Fic: Ready or Not (Miranda/Andy, Devil Wear Prada 2/2)

[fembuck]

Title: Ready or Not
Author: Janine
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.

---

Part 2

Andy sighed softly her eyes closed, stretching her still sleep addled body luxuriously. There was nothing quite like the pleasant ache in your body after a night of terrific sex and smiling at the tightness in her body Andy knew it had been terrific. Purring contently Andy rolled over, throwing her hands over Nate’s waist, her breasts pressing against his back as she trailed her hand up his stomach to cup his breast.

Cup his breast?

Andy blinked. That wasn’t right. Nate didn’t have the breasts, she did.

Andy moved her hand again, the appendage stilling again a second later as she confirmed that she was most definitely holding a breast in her hand.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Andy thought as she became aware of a slight pounding in her skull that she recognized as her long lost friend the hangover. The headache wasn’t too bad, but she had clearly had a bit to drink the night before. What had seen been doing? Think, think, think, Andy mentally yelled at herself.

That’s right, she had dinner with Christian.

But Christian didn’t have breasts either.

And no, that was all wrong. She was supposed to have dinner with Christian, but she didn’t because Miranda was upset and …

Miranda.

Miranda …

Miranda!

Andy’s eyes flew open and she found her field of vision immediately filled with smooth creamy porcelain skin, and silver hair.

“Ohhh, fuuuuck,” Andy mouthed freaking out as silently as she could while also remaining relatively immobile. She had sex with Miranda. She was still in bed with Miranda holding her breast in her hand. Sex … with Miranda. Really good, passionate, vigorous sex with Miranda … with multiple orgasms.

Andy bit her lip as images from the night before began to flood her brain.

She remembered her dress up around her hips as Miranda’s fingers plunged inside of her again and again, her silver hair falling over her face as she stared down at Andy intently before lowering her head so that her teeth and lips could nip and suck at Andy’s neck as Andy helplessly bucked and twisted and moaned beneath her.

She remembered Miranda sitting on the couch fully clothed, except for her underwear which dangled around her left ankle. She remembered her head under her dress licking frantically at Miranda’s slit, one of her hands running feverishly up and down Miranda’s thigh as her other hand worked Miranda’s clit while her tongue moved over her again and again as she moaned into Miranda’s sex because she smelled and tasted so good and she couldn’t get enough.

She remembered being naked, finally, on the bed legs spread, Miranda moving towards her, positioning Andy’s legs over her own and around her waist before pressing forward, her pussy rubbing wetly against Andy’s. She remembered Miranda’s head tilting back in pleasure as they ground into each other, and herself falling back against the mattress her hips lifting and thrusting against Miranda, Miranda’s fists clenched in the bed-sheet as they came against each other.

And, oh god, she had spent minutes upon minutes sucking on Miranda’s nipples. They were both exhausted but she was still so hot, and she had turned into Miranda’s body and taken her nipple in her mouth, sucking on it like she was starving, her legs wrapped around Miranda’s thigh as she rubbed herself against her, still sucking desperately on her nipple as she came all over Miranda’s leg.

Andy dropped her head forward, embarrassment, shame and arousal coursing through her body, her forehead landing on Miranda’s back.

Andy tensed realizing her mistake almost immediately, but it was too late and she felt Miranda shift against her.

Everything was silent for a moment and then …

“Andrea?” Miranda asked softly, her voice still tinged with sleep.

“Hmm,” Andy responded, still nestled against Miranda’s back, the other woman’s breast still in her hand.

“What time is it?” Miranda asked as if there was nothing usual about waking up naked with her twenty-something assistants hand on her breast and her face pressed against her back.

“Uh,” Andy said finally removing her hand from Miranda’s chest so that she could twist around and look at the clock. “It’s …” Andy squinted, “it’s eight.”

“I’m meeting with Irv in an hour,” Miranda said sighing softly before sitting up and dropping her legs over the edge of the bed, her back to Andy. “I’ll be heading over to the luncheon straight from there. You may take the car over, but make sure that it’s back at the hotel by ten.”

And with that Miranda stood, the sheets falling from her body leaving gloriously naked in front of Andy. Miranda then took two steps towards the bathroom and stopped, looking over her shoulder at the still dazed woman on the bed.

“And Andrea,” Miranda began.

“Yes Miranda?” Andy asked operating on autopilot.

“I’d go with a scarf today,” Miranda advised seriously, “If you neglected to bring some I have a rather extensive assortment in my Goyard case.”

And with that she was gone.

“Oh. My. God,” Andy moaned throwing her hand over her head once the bathroom door was shut, lying there for a few moments completely overwhelmed before she managed to force her legs over the edge of the bed and get to her feet.

She had to get dressed. She had to get out of the room before Miranda was finished in the bathroom. It was too much, she couldn’t take notes and discuss the luncheon in a room that still smelt like sex and while memories of Miranda’s tongue in her ass floated through her mind.

Andy looked around the bedroom. Clothes, she needed to find her clothes. Andy began to move through the room, pausing only when she passed the mirror. Turning back to it she stared at her reflection for a long moment.

Well, at least now she knew why Miranda had suggested the scarf.

Between Andy’s neck and collarbone was one of the biggest hickey’s Andy had ever had in her life.

She found herself smiling, and then shook her head.

Clothes, she had to find her clothes and get out of there. She could gloat or fret over the fact that she had aroused Miranda enough for the woman to mark her like a fifteen year old boy later.

-

Miranda tilted her head back letting the warm water trickle over her face, her body finally relaxing under the spray.

She knew that she had not dealt with the situation in the bedroom properly, but after the previous evening and night she simply did not have the energy to deal with the ramifications of what had transpired between herself and Andrea.

Reaching for her scented liquid gel, Miranda began to lather herself up. ‘I certainly need the soap’, she thought to herself, a smile coming to her face as her hands ran over her thighs, her thumb running over a red smudge Andrea had left behind before her finger ran over a sticky patch of skin on her thigh, rubbing it clean before her hands moved back up her torso to clean her breasts.

She hissed slightly as her fingers ran over her nipples. They were still sore from Andrea’s enthusiastic attention.

Miranda sighed at the thought.

They had a good time the previous night, even before they had become intimate with each other. She was glad she had invited Andrea to come along with her. She enjoyed the young woman’s company, much more than she had enjoyed anyone’s company in a very long time; and … when they were intimate with each other … Miranda shivered and breathed in deeply at the thought. She was not a prude in the bedroom, but she could not remember the last time she had been as uninhibited as she was with Andrea. For god’s sake she had even put her tongue … Miranda found herself blushing at the memory.

Miranda sighed again brushing back wet strands of silver hair off of her forehead.

As pleasant as the subject was she needed to get her mind off of Andrea and back on business.

Her personal life was already in shambles, and becoming more complicated by the minute, and if she didn’t pull herself together and focus her professional life it would end up in a similarly shabby state.

---

After the Luncheon …

“So you’re not speaking to me, is that it?” Miranda asked wearily.

Feelings were such a nuisance. She wasn’t even divorced yet and already she had another lover judging her and finding her lacking.

“I just,” Andy said shaking her head sadly, “I don’t know what to say,” she went on glancing briefly over at Miranda before turning away again. “Nigel was so happy when he came to see me yesterday and you … you crushed that, you crushed him in a room full of people,” Andy finished shaking her head.

She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Most people wouldn’t have been. But after what she had seen of Miranda the night before, after what they had shared, she had wanted to think more of the other woman.

“Would you prefer that it had been me?” Miranda asked pinching the bridge of her nose.

Andy looked over at her questioningly. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not so heartless, Andrea,” Miranda said softly looking over at the young woman beside her. “That I would ‘crush’ Nigel as you so quaintly put it, on a whim or for entertainment. They were going to take Runway from me.”

“What?” Andy asked shocked, immediately turning in her seat to face Miranda, her hand moving to rest on Miranda’s thigh. “Miranda, what do you mean?”

“Irv, as you know, has never been comfortable with the amount of power I exert over Runway. I make him millions of dollars a year, yet he has always resented that the credit for Runway’s success falls solely upon me - as it should - instead of upon him,” Miranda began wearily, acutely aware of the heat of Andrea’s palm on her thigh. “He was planning to install Jacqueline Follet in my position, and your … friend, Christian Thompson was to work for her.”

“My god,” Andy breathed out, “I …” and suddenly Andy understood why Miranda had done what she had done at the luncheon. She didn’t like it, and she hurt for Nigel, but she understood. Nigel had recovered from the news with admirable strength and he still had a respected position at Runway but if Miranda had lost the magazine … Andy shuddered at the thought. Runway was Miranda, and Miranda was Runway. She didn’t even want to contemplate what a state Miranda would have been in if that had happened. “I understand,” Andy said softly, her hand squeezing Miranda’s thigh.

“I was happy for him,” Miranda replied her eyes focused on Andy’s. “I never would have stood in his way … I simply … I had no choice,” she continued something fragile and yearning in her tone as her eyes held Andy’s almost beseechingly.

“I know,” Andy said softly, instinctually realizing that Miranda needed someone to believe her, to believe in her. That she needed someone to look at her and not see a monster. “So does Nigel,” Andy added assuredly a second later taking Miranda’s hand gently into hers.

Miranda breathed in deeply and then nodded, turning her head to look out the window. It would soon be time to paste on another series of smiles and charm a room full of sycophants that she couldn’t stand. It was almost time to be “Miranda Priestly” again when all she wanted to do was sleep. Or, to her surprise, she realized that she would have been perfectly happy to continue riding in the car with Andrea to Montmartre or wherever else the girl wanted to go as long as there were no cameras and CEOs.

Andy stared at Miranda for a few moments, taking in her wilted shoulders and melancholy eyes and then leaned over pressing her lips against Miranda’s cheek, keeping the silver haired woman’s hand securely in hers.

Miranda sighed and turned to face Andrea, feeling stronger than she had a moment before, wanting the girl to kiss her again.

“Andrea,” Miranda said softly, her hand moving to cover the brunette’s.

However before she could say anything else the car pulled to a stop and the driver got out.

Miranda sighed and turned her head to look out the window, lifting her sunglasses to her face a second later, a look of determination coming to her features.

“Stay close,” Miranda said turning to look at Andy once more through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. And then she was out of the car smiling and posing as Andy got out behind her, the brunette’s features pinched and worried for Miranda who could not afford to let it show, following close behind her the whole way.

---

Andy knew Miranda was exhausted when the other woman got into an elevator occupied by two other people when they returned to the hotel in the early evening. Miranda quite peacefully tucked herself into the back corner upon finding the elevator occupied while Andy was the one agitated and glaring at the other passengers.

If the elevator had been empty she would have been able to hold Miranda’s hand.

When they entered Miranda’s room, the older woman carelessly tossed her coat and jacket to the side. By the time Andy made it into the other room after picking up the items and hanging them, Miranda had her hands braced on the edge of the table in front of a large brass framed mirror and was staring at her reflection intently.

Andy made her way over to Miranda and after only a seconds hesitation wrapped her arms around her waist, and rested her chin on Miranda’s shoulder, hugging her into her body.

“I could cancel your evening if you want,” Andy said thinking that she knew how this conversation was going to end but needing to make the offer anyway.

Miranda sighed and relaxed into Andy’s embrace, her head dipping down as the warmth of Andy’s body seeped into her back, doing the impossible and actually relaxing her a measure.

“Yes,” Miranda said surprising them both with her response. “Cancel,” she continued, “whatever it is,” she went on turning around in Andy’s arms so that they were face to face, Andy’s arms still lightly looped around her.

Miranda lifted her hand to Andy’s cheek and brushed the backs of her fingers gently down it.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her fingers lingering for a moment, and then her hand dropped and she stepped to the side breaking the light hold Andy had on her. “I’ll be in the other room.”

When Andy finally made it into the other room after being on her phone for what felt like hours, she found Miranda curled up on the couch in the same robe she had found her in the day before, sleeping.

Andy stopped in the doorway and allowed her eyes to travel over Miranda’s sleeping form. She had woken up with Miranda that morning, but her back had been turned to her and she had been too busy freaking out to really take stock of Miranda in slumber.

She looked peaceful asleep. Andy had thought that perhaps she would have a cute little frown on her lips, her mind planning and buzzing even in sleep, but she liked Miranda’s actual tranquil expression more. She was glad that at least in sleep the older woman was able to find some peace.

Andy turned behind her to look at the front door, contemplating leaving Miranda to her rest, but she found that she really didn’t want to leave the other woman’s presence. They had been together almost constantly for twenty-four hours, and to her dismay and delight she found that that wasn’t enough.

Moving over to the couch, Andy perched herself on the arm of the chair and reached over, her hand hovering above Miranda’s head for a moment before she finally lowered it, sighing softly as she ran her fingers through Miranda’s luxurious silver hair.

So soft, she thought to herself, her eyes closing as she continued to pet Miranda’s hair.

“Andrea.”

Andy’s eyes snapped open and she looked down at the softly uttered word.

“Sorry,” Andy said lifting her hand, an apologetic look on her face. She hadn’t meant to wake Miranda she had just wanted to be connected to her in some way.

“Don’t be,” Miranda replied, staring up into Andy’s face for a long moment before shifting into a sitting position on the couch, clearing enough space so that Andy could move from the arm of the chair onto the cushion beside her.

Andy looked down at the space Miranda had cleared for her and blushed.

“A-are, um, are you hungry?” Andy asked quickly slipping into the space Miranda had cleared, trying to dislodge the memory of Miranda pining her down on the couch the night before as her fingers moved inside of her. “You barely ate anything at the luncheon. I could get you something from …”

Miranda placed a finger over Andy’s lips silencing her.

“I’m not hungry,” Miranda breathed out softly a moment later, her thumb tracing over Andy’s bottom lip.

“No?” Andy breathed out, Miranda’s thumb slipping between her lips momentarily as she spoke, causing a shiver to run through Andy’s body.

“No,” Miranda replied softly, and then slowly she leaned towards Andy, her finger falling away from the brunette’s lips to be replaced by her mouth.

Andy gasped then sighed at the press of Miranda’s lip against hers, her hand immediately reaching out for the silver-haired woman, cupping her neck, pulling Miranda closer to her as they continued to explore each others mouths.

The kiss was different from the ones they had shared the night before. It was softer and tender where they had been heated and passionate and frenzied the previous evening. The gentleness of the kiss made Andy’s heart pound rapidly in her chest and she heard herself moan into Miranda’s lips as she shifted on the couch, moving closer to the older woman, seeking more contact with her until she was practically sitting in Miranda’s lap.

“Andrea,” Miranda said, her voice quivering as she spoke, her fingers moving to trail over Andy’s cheeks as they both breathed deeply, plastered against each other.

Miranda found that she was quite at a loss as to what to say after that however, and lapsed into an uncharacteristic silence. She never found herself at a loss for words, and yet one kiss from Andrea Sachs had rendered her mute. She wasn’t really one for hand holding either, or someone who sought validation in the opinion of others or a number of other things that she found herself being and wanting around Andrea. When Andrea was around her, she felt quite unlike herself and yet in some strange and uncomfortable way more like herself than ever before.

Shivering a little as her fingers fell away from Andrea’s cheek, Miranda realized that somewhere along the way she had come to not only depend on Andrea, but to genuinely like her. She … cared about Andrea’s opinion of her. She … cared about Andrea’s feelings. She … cared about Andrea.

Miranda’s hands fell to rest limply on Andrea’s hips, her eyes drifting away from the brunette as they did.

She was Miranda Priestly, the Demon Editor of the Garment District. She was indomitable, unstoppable, and unconquerable. She was always ready to face any challenge, to face anything. Only, she wasn’t sure she was ready for this, she wasn’t sure she was ready for Andrea Sachs and what Andrea Sachs seemed to be doing to her. She had lost her husband, she had nearly lost her job, she was certain that the twins were going to hate her for losing them yet another father (figure), and she wasn’t sure how much more turmoil and change even she could handle.

“Hey,” Andy said softly, her fingers moving up to rest under Miranda’s chin which she then gently nudged up until she could see Miranda’s eyes once more. “I’m not hungry either,” Andy continued once Miranda was looking up at her, a playful smile ghosting across her lips before she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Miranda’s once more, kissing her slowly, the caressing simmering with passion.

Miranda wrapped her arms around Andrea’s body more tightly, returning the kiss, opening her mouth to Andrea a few moments later allowing the brunette to deepen the kiss.

She wasn’t ready …

Andy’s hands brushed up Miranda’s sides as they kissed, her fingers trailing up her torso before lightly skimming over her breast, her lips curving up in a smile against Miranda’s as her thumbs brushed over the silver-haired woman’s rapidly hardening nipples.

“I could help you slip into something more comfortable, if you want,” Andy whispered against Miranda’s lips, her thumbs still moving across Miranda’s nipples, teasing, as she spoke.

Miranda smirked, before pulling back from Andy’s lips and leaning back giving the brunette better access to her body, her robe already parted giving Andy a tantalizing view of what lay beneath.

“By all means,” Miranda began to drawl as Andy stared at her, biting down on her bottom lip as her eyes roamed over Miranda’s body. “Move at a glacial pace,” the older woman continued her lips quirking slightly as Andy peered over at her with an amused expression. “You know how that thrills me.”

“I do,” Andy responded smiling. “I do,” she repeated again before leaning forward attaching her lips to Miranda’s as her nimble fingers slipped beneath Miranda’s robe and went to work at a pace that was anything but glacial.

Miranda didn’t know if she was ready for Andrea Sachs and all that she promised, but it seemed that she was going to find out, ready or not.

The End

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