"Sans Toi" Part VI" Final Chapter (The Devil Wears Prada Fan Fiction)

Pairing: Andy/Miranda/
Raiting: PG-13
Words: 7,075

Disclaimer: Miranda Priestly, Andrea Sachs, Emily Charlton, Nigel Kipling and any other recognizable character have been borrowed without permission but for pure entertainment and without any purpose of profit or commercial gain. 

~~~

“Ms. Priestly, do you want to stay over..?”

The editor’s snapped her head up surprised by the question.  “Will she wake up during the night?  I don’t want her to wake up alone...” added Miranda once again lowering her eyes to observe Andrea’s unconscious body.

“She’s sedated now and should remain like that till morning when we will assess her again. The bullet fractured the clavicle and inserted itself in the deep Trapezius muscle but luckily, there was no involvement of any major blood vessels or organs and it was extracted without complications.  The MRI showed a minor brain concussion...”

Miranda’s eyes looked up in fear.

“It’s really minimal Ms. Priestly, don’t worry...there doesn’t seem to be any reason to fear fundamental brain injury.  As for the broken rib, further x-rays will be taken tomorrow to see if the left lung has re-expanded and if so, the chest tube will be removed...all in all, considering her injuries, Ms. Sachs is very lucky...”

Miranda nodded not taking her eyes away from the girl.  “Very well then, I’ll come back in the morning...”

“Okay.  You’re welcome to be here as early as 7 am if you want although do remember that I’ll be making rounds at that time and you won’t be able to see her until around 8 am or so...”

“You’re on night shift? I need someone to-“

“Yes, do not worry.  I will call you if anything happens but believe me, it shouldn’t; she’s quite stable...”

“Your diligence and kindness will not go unnoticed, Doctor...” she whispered.  Leaning over she found it impossible to reach Andrea.  She leaned back and looked at the kind face of the doctor standing across the bed. 

“Allow me...” said the man who moved next to Miranda and lowered the bed rail.  “There you go...”

“Thank you...”

“Just make sure you leave in the next 10 minutes Ms. Priestly.  Nurse Corcoran can be rather harsh with unauthorized overnight visitors...”

Miranda’s tired eyes flickered and lips curled into a shy smile; exhaustion was taking over.

“I will...thank you for everything, Dr. Wallis...”

The man nodded and stepped out of the dimly lit room. Miranda turned her gaze to her girl and watched her now in the peace that only solitude can offer.  The monitors and their constant beeping comforted her; an electronic reminder that Andrea’s heart was still beating. 

She stared at Andrea’s still body noticing the bruising and swelling on the left side of her face and the sight made her purse her lips and swallow hard.  Azure eyes then travelled to the traces of iodine solution they had surely plastered around the gunshot wound before the bullet was removed and her broken bones fixed.

Miranda’s breathing faltered; how close to disaster, how close to the end. 

She then placed her hand on the girl’s chest right above her heart and very, very gently, with her index finger barely touching the gown that covered the battered body, she caressed the girl.  “I’m sorry...” Miranda whispered willing the knot in her throat to go away.

She sighed deeply before she finally leaned over and kissed Andrea’s forehead.

***

The door opened and closed and the twins looked up and stared at each other figuring out whether to go down and meet their mother or not.  It was Caroline who finally stood up and Cassidy followed.

Miranda was closing the door to the cloak closet when she saw the girls coming down.  “Bobsies, what are you doing up?  I thought you’d be in bed by now...”

The girls smiled sheepishly and tied their arms around their mother who gratefully bent down to gather her children in her arms.  She tightened her embrace and inhaled deeply, “I love you both so much...”

A few instants later Miranda broke the embrace and smiled down at the twins. “You guys want some ice cream..?”

The twins looked at each other in disbelief but seconds later, their faces lit up in wide smiles.  “Regular or low fat..?”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Regular, regular...” she drawled.

“Yeah!"

They dragged their mother and sat her in one of the chairs around their ample kitchen table.  Minutes later, the three of them ate their portion in silence.

A silence that was broken by the twins.

“Mom?”

“Uhmm..?”

“You don’t look too good...”

For a second Miranda contemplated her standard answer which had served her oh so well through the years but one look at those blue eyes that stared at her with care and she decided to come clean.  “Yes...uh...it was rather a difficult day...”

“We figured that much...” added Caroline with a perky expression that foretold more questions. “What happened, work?”

Miranda savoured the last portion of the rare, indulgent treat and sighed before answering. “No, not exactly work...”

The girls looked at each other and put their spoons down.

“Someone got hurt today and mommy feels rather bad about it...”

“Daddy?” panic laced in the question made Miranda’s heart fluttered.

“Oh good God no, no...you need not to worry...your father is fine...”

“Who then?” asked Cassidy.

The tired woman still debated about what to say; it wasn’t like Andrea had been a friend or anything.  “Girls, some time ago I had an assistant named Andrea...do you remember her?”

The girls shrugged their shoulders and Caroline spoke again. “Mom, no offence but...uh...keeping up with your assistants is not the easiest thing, you know..? You’ve had so many of them...”

‘Point taken...’ thought the editor. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway...this girl, Andrea...she was hurt today...very badly...and I’m still...” she couldn't finish.

“How bad?”

“The details are of no importance, my darling...suffice to say it was bad...”

“So...uh...why did she get hurt?  An accident or something..?”

“Yes...something along those lines, Caroline...”

The girls finished their ice cream but stared at their mother in expectation.  Miranda sensed this to be the case and figured that this was as good a time as any other to say some things she would have to say to the girls, sooner or later.

“Uh...” Miranda cleared her throat. “I have come to realize that uh...that I care a great deal about her, about Andrea. Today...when I got that call...I thought she’d...”

“I thought you were going to cry, mom...” interrupted Cassidy.

The editor’s breathing quavered slightly.  “Uh...”

“It’s okay mom, crying is not a bad thing...look at Cassidy, she does it all the time...” added Caroline who purposefully joked about her sister which in turned made their mother smile.

“Hey!” promptly the other twin.

Miranda smiled at the good natured tension reliever comment and stretched out her arms, grabbed her 

daughters’ hands and whispered, “Thank you...”

“How much do you care for her..?”

Miranda inhaled and pulled her daughters to her.  The girls stood up, walked around the table and stood by her.

“Perhaps...” Miranda cleared her throat again but went ahead, nonetheless. “...more than I should...”

It was Caroline, as always, who blurted out the obvious comment. “How can you care for someone more 

than you should..?”

“What I meant to say is that...” Miranda grunted again. “Uh...I really feel for her...”

“You love her...” added Cassidy, boldly.

It was not a question, it was a statement.

Miranda closed her eyes at the word being uttered; its meaning overwhelmed her. “Perhaps...I don’t know, maybe...I do.”

A minute went by when no one made a sound.  Miranda kept rubbing the pads of her fingertips against her closed eyelids anxious about facing her children again.

“Does she love you..?” asked Cassidy again.

The woman exhaled.

“I don’t know...hopefully...” she added as she smiled sadly.

“Does she make you happy..?” added Caroline, this time.

The editor smiled coyly while a sequence of images rushed quickly through her mind.  Andrea had certainly tried her hardest to make Miranda happy. Miranda had simply not allowed herself to accept it.

“She tried...” answered the editor with a sheepish but rather remorseful smile. “But I was rather a bit of a mule, I’m afraid...too stubborn to see it...”

Cassidy, the less rational of the two but the one who was incredibly more adept at perceiving moods and emotions, laced her thin arms around her mother’s weary neck and hugged her tightly before whispering, 

“Maybe this time mom, you should try to...see it..?

Closing her arms around her daughter, Miranda answered.

“You’re right Bobsie...maybe this time I should try to see it...”

***

She walked to the ICU suite area slowly, pacing herself.  Her night had been rough filled with anxious dreams of doom woven with a few scenes of the previous days.  She had agreed to testify later in her office and had managed to clear the day until 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

For now, her sole concern was Andrea.

“Miranda...”

She turned and saw a very distressed-looking version of the John Hagerty she’d grown to know.

“Good morning John...are you okay?”She asked with concern. “You look awful...”

“I’m alright...just a rough night...”

Suddenly the ruffled up hair, the morning stubble, the wrinkled shirt made sense. “Did you spend the night here, John? Is Andrea alright?”

“Andrea is fine, don’t worry and no, no, I did not spend the night here but I was up for most of it...I couldn’t sleep...I came here about 2 hours ago...She woke up...”

“What?  How come no one called me? I would have come!”

At that moment Miranda felt a hand on her shoulder.  It was Dr. Wallis.

“I didn’t think it was appropriate to call you for five minutes during which Andrea was only semi-conscious, Ms. Priestly...”

“I was just going to explain that to you, Miranda...”

The editor turned to face one of her newest employees.  “Then, why did you stay..?”

The doctor interrupted yet again.  “I’m sorry for interrupting, my shift is almost over and I need to go home and try to rest since I’m on tonight too...uh...we just finished rounds...”  The man paused for a moment. “Ms. Sachs is stable, Ms. Priestly. We’ll take her down for some x-rays and another MRI in a few minutes.  If everything clears as it should, we will remove the chest tube later. She should start regaining full consciousness throughout the day...”

“Oh thank God...” whispered Miranda.

“But...uh...don’t expect her to be her usual self upon waking...Her body has sustained some considerable abuse and she will be in some degree of discomfort, okay?  She will probably experience pain for which she has a drip but the meds will not completely knock her out...just bear with her and try to support her but, the two of you, please...you both need to be patient...her injuries were considerable so you need to stay put and let her come around on her own...”

John nodded.

“Yes, of course...” Miranda mumbled.

“Oh and another thing...she may be somewhat agitated...try to reassure her as much as you can.  Victims of traumatic incidents often experience some degree of emotional unsettlement so, bear that in mind...”

“Thank you Dr. Wallis...really...thank you...” added Miranda.

He finally said goodbye and left. 

Miranda closed her eyes and let her head dropped back as she rubbed her right shoulder.  She felt nauseous and unwell.

“You look like I feel.  Have you had coffee yet?” asked John.

Miranda shook her head, unable to say much.  

“Come with me, there’s an actual, honest-to-God Starbucks in this place...well, at the corner...”

Miranda gave him half a smile and nodded.  “Let’s go, then...”

Forty five minutes later, both editors were staring at Andrea from a corner of the nurses’ station as they waited to be allowed in.  Both the MRI and the x-rays confirmed that there had been no brain injury of any kind and that the lung had re-expanded.  Removal of the chest tube had just taken place and the nurses were making the girl more comfortable before allowing visitors to come in.

John turned his head and glanced intensely at his boss who seemed unable or unwilling to peel her eyes away from her -ex-assistant.  For a second he pondered the wisdom of stepping into personal territory but throwing caution to the wind, he pressed on.  “You really care for her, don’t you..?”

Miranda, unconsciously, wrapped her thin arms around herself, smirked painfully and exhaled.  “You know John...last night I was asked almost the very same question...one of my daughters...”

She cleared her throat with a grunt.

“...asked me how much I cared for Andrea and I answered...” She hugged herself even tighter. “...I answered that perhaps I cared for her more than I should...”

Lips pursed, Miranda dropped her head forward and closed her eyes.  “And I do...”

“Is there ever a measure, Miranda..?” asked the kind man standing next to her.

“My other daughter sort of asked the same thing...”

“I think we just love in whichever way we can...that’s all...” The kind man paused and smiled, gently. “You have very smart daughters...”

At that moment, one of the nurses that had been tending to Andy stepped out of the room.  “You may go in now but please, just one at a time...”

Miranda looked at John.  “You go in first John, you need to go home and rest...I can go in after...I have all day...”

John nodded.  “Thank you...”

“No John...thank you...”

***

About 10 minutes later John came out of Andy’s room, hugged Miranda goodbye and left.  Miranda gathered her purse and coat and entered the room.

Before leaving the nurses had closed the blinds on the windows and once again the room had become dimly lit and more comfortable for Andy, who lay motionless in bed.  Miranda dropped her bag and coat onto a nearby chair and approached the side of the bed silently, as if suddenly...afraid.

Gently she brought her left hand to Andy’s naked arm and grabbed it, careful not to startle the girl.

“Miranda..?” whispered Andy’s broken voice.

The older woman got closer.  “I’m here...”

Unfortunately for Miranda, the two words uttered in a very tender manner, instead of pacifying Andy, actually made her cry.  That same arm that Miranda had touched so gently just seconds before, now snaked around her own, grabbing and pulling her desperately.

“I’m sorry, Miranda...” sobbed Andy as her face crumbled in a multitude of painful wrinkles and contorted features that sliced Miranda’s heart in two.

She gathered the younger woman in her arms as softly as she would hold a baby, being careful of the lines and bandages and the broken bones and the shattered spirit and brought her girl as close to her chest as she could.  “Shhhhh...it’s okay...I’m here...I’m--“

Miranda could not finish.  Again, that gripping sense of dread took hold of her insides and choked her voice.  She cradled Andy for a while, rocking her gently, holding her head close to her and kissing her forehead softly until the girl fell asleep again.

For about two hours or so, Andy slept.

Miranda remained next to the bed and worked on her laptop. Nurses came and went, residents and interns checked up on her until around midday, when Andy seemed to awake more fully from the drug-induced stupor.

“Miranda..?”

The editor put her laptop aside and approached the bed.  “I’m here...”

Once again, Andy’s eyes filled with tears.  Miranda, who had by now learned how to lower and raise the rail, lowered it and sat on the bed.

“Oh Andrea...there is no need for you to cry...everything is fine...” she whispered as she wiped the tears off the brunette’s cheeks.

“You okay, did they hurt you..?” whispered Andy in a coarse voice strained with pain as tears flowed slowly down her cheeks.

“I’m perfectly fine, Andrea...”

Miranda ran her thumb gently over Andrea’s face, over that flawless skin that now looked inflamed and purple. Breathing in, she managed a sad smile. “How much do you remember..?

Andrea’s eyes closed and her body stiffened slightly while Miranda let her hands drop. “Not much...I cannot remember anything after they grabbed me to take me out of the warehouse...I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to get you involved...”

Miranda hushed the girl once again by holding her softly.  She remembered the doctor’s words and did her best to reassured Andy that all was fine, that there was no reason for her to feel any anxiety.

“My face...it hurts...my chest...my shoulder...”

“I know, I know...I’m sorry...those bastards...” whispered Miranda as she let her right hand run through a few stray hairs and tucked them delicately behind Andy’s ear.

The girl smiled, sadly.  “Did the police..?”

“Yes...they caught them both, no need to worry...like I said before, all is well.  All you need to do now is rest...”

Andy nodded and winced as she tried to get more comfortable in the bed.  The editor observed her closely wanting to be more helpful.  Andrea tried to shift her position and unable, she cursed under her breath.

“Wait, let me help you...” Miranda offered and walked to the other side of the bed to have better access.  She leaned forward offering her arms for Andy to grab.  “Move your good arm over my shoulders Andrea...” whispered Miranda.

Andy did as she was told and Miranda held her carefully for a few seconds until the girl was able to sit up more straight in the bed.  When the manoeuvre was over, the brunette let her head drop on the pillow with sadness.

Miranda sat on the edge of the bed once again watching the girl closely.  Despite Andrea’s injuries, her very apparent pain and that dejected rictus that adorned her mouth, Miranda felt immensely happy and grateful.

Unfortunately, she also felt incredibly inadequate and incompetent to show what her real feelings were.  Breathing in, she just watched.

“I really did not want to get you involved...I am really sorry, please forgive me...”

Miranda did not acknowledge the comment.  That was a matter for a later day, for a future moment when Andrea felt stronger.  For now, all that mattered was the girl’s full recovery.  Leaning closer, Miranda spoke very quietly.

“Are you in a lot of pain Andrea..?”

Andy opened her eyes and locked them on blue irises that stared at her intensely, full of something she dared not decipher.  The expression on those eyes and the nearness of that body made Andy tremble slightly and divert her gaze.

It was too much and suddenly it all seemed too soon.

The editor noticed the tremor and held Andy’s face forcing the girl to look up once again.  The gesture was tender but not devoid of power.

“Are you frightened of me, Andrea..?”

The second after Miranda uttered the demanding question, she regretted it.  It was not the time for confrontations regardless how good the intentions had been behind the question.  Still holding Andy’s head in her hands, she let her own head dropped and whispered, “I’m sorry...I...”

“A little, yes...”

Miranda snapped her head back up and imagined her own face seen through the girl’s eyes.  She removed her hands off Andy’s head and stood up.

She could not go on.  At that moment, as she stared so hard at those eyes that showed her a glimpse of the girl’s beautiful heart, Miranda realized -perhaps for the very first time in her life- the enormous dread she felt.

In seconds, no, in fractions of seconds, Miranda remembered the fright of not having a mother, the coldness of an emotionally distant father, the covert disdain of all her older siblings who had silently blamed her for the death of their mother, the cruelty of teenaged kids that used her for sex when all she sought was kindness and closeness.  Suddenly, she remembered Francois, Elaine, Gerard, Isabella, Sandra.  She remembered the twins’ father and she remembered Stephen.

But most of all, she remembered black taffeta flapping in the wind.  She remembered a skirt that partially hid the legs of a figure that walked against the flow of the rest; when everyone was trying to get in, 

Andrea...Andrea wanted out.

And with an enormous weight on her heart, Miranda remembered that all she did to scare the girl away had been the only gesture she had actually made to bring her closer.

She brought up the rail to where it was supposed to be and walked to the chair, bent over, closed the lid on her laptop, placed it on its case, picked her coat and ready to leave, unceremoniously, opened her mouth to speak again.

“I’ll send the nurse in...”

And then, like that, she was gone.

As she walked the hall and then pushed the button to summon up the lift, Miranda panted like an animal that had been caged for far too long and was running scared even from the slightest act of kindness. 

She needed out and away and she needed it soon.

Minutes later she sat in the comfort of her car.  She stared at hundreds of unknown bystanders whose faces meant nothing to her and wondered what their lives were like and for an instant, a feeling of envy overtook her.

But the escapist thought lived for just a few seconds.  With a sigh that spoke loudly about her sadness and her bottled up fears, Miranda picked up her blackberry and called Emily to ask her to cancel the appointment with the detectives; she couldn’t face them today.

“Roy...forget what I said before...just take me home...”

“Yes, Ms. Priestly...”

***

Very gently Nigel opened the door only to find Andy asleep. He realized at that moment he had not prepared himself for the extent of the girl’s injuries; the purple-bluish bruising on her face, the padded sling protecting the site of the operation, the lines, the monitors.  Taken aback, Nigel breathed in and closed the gap between himself and Andy.  As he stepped closer, Andy opened her eyes.

“How do you feel, Six..?”

“Like shit...”

“I’m sorry sweetheart...” He smiled as he leaned on the rail. “I’m really sorry...we were hoping that they we would be able to get to you before but...”

Andy smiled but was unable to hide her discomfort.  “The effect of the painkillers is running out, crap...”

“You want me to call the nurse..?”

“No, no...they won’t give me anything until after dinner which should be coming soon...”

Nigel took in the comment.  His mind imagined Andy having difficulties feeding herself and thought it would be nice to do that for her.

And suddenly wondered where Miranda was.

He leaned over, pulled the ledger to lower the rail and sat, careful to give Andy the space she needed. 

“Where is Miranda?  I thought she’d be here...with you...”

The girl closed her eyes and smirked bitterly.  “I think I pushed her away...either that or she’s really angry at me...”

“What?  Why you said that?”

Andy moaned quietly and her face morphed into a grimace of pain.  She closed her eyes and exhaled willing the pain to go away.

“Because she left and she looked either pissed off or in panic...”

Nigel pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Do you think she’ll finally fire me, Nige..?”

The man took hold of the girl’s hand and squeezed it gently.  “No...she won’t...she won’t fire you...”

“How can you be so sure? She really didn’t look happy earlier...I...damn, I don’t ever seem to do anything right, do I?  All I wanted was for her to be proud of me, to...uh...I dunno...like me...I wanted her to...”

Nigel smiled and caressed the back of Andy’s hand with his thumb.  “She does...”

‘If only you knew how much she does...’ he thought.

“Well...” Andy grimaced again. “...I really hope you’re right...”

Over at the townhouse, Miranda had taken a shower, had dressed up more casually and was having a cup of wine to pacify her shattered nerves.  The girls were to stay over at a friend’s home since Miranda had decided to stay over at the hospital and now, in a way, she sort of regretted having made that decision.

Just as she inhaled deeply, her Blackberry sprung to life.

“Yes, Nigel..?”

“Where are you?”

“If you must know...I’m home...”

“When are you coming over?”

“Over where?”

Miranda knew exactly where Nigel was calling her from.

“The hospital Miranda, the hospital, where else?”

“Nigel...watch your tone...”

“She’s not well...”

“What?  What happened?” asked Miranda anxiously.

“Nothing has happened...she just thinks you hate her...”

Miranda inhaled in search of patience.  Nigel did know how to push her buttons.

“Don’t ever do that again.  You just scared me.  I thought something was wrong with Andrea...”

“Well, something is, Miranda...she’s heartbroken...not to mention, in pain and afraid...Mostly she’s afraid you’re angry at her...”

“But...why?  I haven’t done anything for her to feel that way.  I was there today...I was nice and, and...I was even gentle...”

“Why are you like this? She’s frightened of you not liking her and I find this absurd when it would be so easy for you to make her -and may I add- yourself...happy!  Miranda when are you going to stop running?  You love Andy, and please don’t deny it, and while I don’t know if she exactly loves you...isn’t it about time you find out? What are you gonna wait for, the next incident?  What if she doesn’t make it the next time, huh?”

Miranda collapsed onto the nearby chair.

“Well?”

“Stop talking to me like I am a child, Nigel Kipling!  It’s neither funny nor is it a behaviour I will tolerate for 

long...”

“Miranda...please...this is your chance...you said that yourself...she’s frightened...”

That did it.

“Andrea is frightened...frightened? Why is it that her fear, her fright, seems so much more important than what I feel?  Have you, for just a moment, stopped to think how much more frightened I may be?  Who stands to lose more in this, Nigel, huh?  Tell me!  Who do you think would suffer more if this -whatever this is- doesn’t work out? I am a middle-aged woman whom everyone admires and almost everyone is afraid of.  What’s going to happen when she realizes that she’s made a mistake, that I am not the person she thought I was? What’s going to happen when she finds out the real me? Remember Paris, Nigel?  All I said was that I saw part of myself in her and that was enough, enough to send her running to the hills!  Who’s going to be more devastated when she leaves again as I’m sure she will? Can you understand, Nigel? Can you understand that not everything is destined to end like a bloody fairy tale?”

Miranda felt the sting of tears in her clouded blue eyes.  She couldn’t hold them inside her heart anymore and they had started to flow freely the moment she had started to ask those horrible questions that had been tormenting her for days.

There, she’d said it. 

Finally.

Once she was able to control herself, she breathed in.  “I’ll be there soon...”

And she cut off the call.

***

Andy did her best to stay awake.  She turned on the TV but found nothing worth watching.  The pain meds were starting to work and minutes later, she fell asleep.

Miranda walked through the door the nurse held open for her.  “I pulled the sofa bed for you Ms. Priestly.  Call me if you need anything...”

“How’s she..?”

“She’s alright but in a lot more pain today than she was yesterday.  Dr. Wallis raised the dosage of the meds and hopefully she’ll have a good night but...she may wake up in pain.  We’ll be checking up on her but call me if you find her too agitated...”

“I will...thank you...”

Miranda dropped her small bag and approached the bed.  Like she’d done several times by now, she lowered the rail and sat silently. 

For some unfathomable reason, Andrea shook her head and opened her eyes as if in panic.  “Uh...you okay? You okay?”

“Yes Andrea, calm down, I’m fine...it’s okay...”

When Andy’s eyes focused on Miranda instead of crying, the girl just clung to the older woman impulsively. “God, I thought something had happened to you...” mumbled the girl in a quiet voice muffled by the way she pressed her forehead to Miranda’s shoulder.

“Shhhh...it was a dream...I’m fine...”

And there was only so much of a breaking Andrea that Miranda’s heart could take. 

Closing her eyes, the editor inhaled very deeply, taking in the smell that she would forever know as Andrea’s and wrapped her arms around the thin frame of her ex-assistant.  “It was just a dream...” whispered Miranda once again.

 “Please Miranda, please...don’t be angry, please...”

“Andrea...I’m not angry...”

“All I wanted was to do something that would make you feel proud of me...that would make you-”

“I am proud of you...”

At that, Andy moved back. “You are..?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I thought...I thought you...”

Miranda felt the all familiar pain of being considered someone people could not trust.  As always, she inhaled deeply in an effort to appease her wounded heart. 

It didn’t work.

It never did.

“What did you think, Andrea...did you think I was that myopic? Did you think I was incapable of objective analysis? What?” mumbled the older woman with a broken edge on her voice.

“Uh...no, no...”

“Then what..?”

“I don’t know...I just...”

“Is that why you didn’t call me?  Is that why you asked your friend to call Nigel, instead of me?” insisted Miranda.

Andy nodded.

“Why?  You thought I wouldn’t help you then...”

“No...well...I don’t know...”

Miranda shook her head in defeat and turned to stand from the bed when Andy’s hand on her arm, stopped her.  

“Please Miranda...please don’t leave me again...” mumbled the girl whose eyes had started to fill with tears the moment she realized that her actions had somehow, hurt Miranda.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to think that once again I was nothing more than your greatest...” Andy gulped. “...disappointment...” finished Andy with a sigh.

And at that very instant, right as the young woman finished that sentence, whatever had started to dislodge inside Miranda’s heart the moment Andy walked away from her in Paris, had finally and completely, broken off.

Silver strands of hair trembled as Miranda’s head snapped quickly revealing blue eyes behind heavy lids.  Slowly she took hold on Andy’s hand still perched on her arm and slowly, very slowly, she grazed the skin that lay underneath the pads of her fingertips. “Andrea...” She said.  “Please listen to me...”

Andy was much too enthralled by the feeling of Miranda’s fingers on her skin to say anything.

“Do not confuse my quest for perfection with sheer cruelty or heartlessness...please don’t...not you...” she whispered in a puff of breath as her fingers trailed ever so softly the skin on Andy’s left wrist. 

“I am the product of my history...like we all are...and my history was not always a kind one...” she continued as her digits caressed the edge of Andy’s hand and her breathing, quavered.  “I was taught that life was always a fight, a competition.  Even within my own family, Andrea...nothing, nothing came easily and because of that...-” Miranda closed her eyes willing painful recollections to go back to the memory hole they had crawled from.  “...I have lived my life in a fine balance between mastering my craft...and having my ass whipped by those that I have allowed to come close to me...” 

Miranda’s hand shifted and now the back of her fingers brushed upward causing shivers all over Andy’s body who willed her hand to remain as still as possible.

“I know I can be cruel but it’s never without a reason...and the reason has very little to do with others and almost always; it has to do...with me.” 

She paused and breathed in again.

“I am not someone well versed in relationships.  I am not the perfect friend or the consummate lover...I have one friend -really-...Nigel...and as for being a lover..? Three failed marriages speak loud enough of the kind of lover I am...”

The editor entwined her pinky finger with Andy’s index digit and turned the pale hand downward, playing it delicate as if it had been a Viola de Gamba or a Harpsichord or some other Baroque instrument so rare and exquisite, that deserved veneration and reverie. 

Andy’s eyes closed and her head leaned back on the pillow.  It was the only way she found to relish the moment; to feel every nerve ending come alive, to experience how the fibres of her being tingled right underneath her skin.

“A good lover is not someone who is good at sex.  A good lover is one who knows how to love well.  Sex?  Sex I was always able to do...” Miranda whispered in a seductive tone knowing perfectly well the effect she was creating in the girl. “But sex is not love.  Love is much harder.  It requires faith and knowledge and respect and even...even...a goodness that I do not know I possess...”

Miranda cleared her voice and continued.

“But one day, a while ago, I started to feel this fastidious...pull...this obstinate need...this...this....and I cannot stop whatever ‘this’ is...”

Miranda stopped. 

Language failed her.

Andy sighed loudly.

“So fire you? No, no...nothing further from my aspirations than to fire you or push you away...nothing further from my feelings than anger...no.  I am -yes- somewhat hurt by your actions...I would have wished you had chosen to trust me more...but anger? No, there’s no anger...”

Miranda closed her fingers over Andy’s and again brought the hand she had been toying with upwards, exposing the pink palm with its deep lines.  Miranda’s fingers extended but only the ring finger was called out to explore.  It did.  The pad charted the Health Line, then the Life Line followed by the Heart and finally the Fate Line, all the way to the fingertip of Andy’s middle finger.

“Oh God, Miranda...” whispered Andy in a choked breath, having succumbed to the sensations and the force of her own repressed feelings.

Now Miranda turned to Andy; diatribe over.  She leaned closer to the girl who pouted and sobbed softly.  

Once more, she took Andy’s head in her hands, again with a bit more force than what she had intended.

But with a lot more love than ever before.

“Andrea, I am only going to say this once so pay attention...”

Andy opened her sleepy eyes and forced them to lock to Miranda’s blue orbs.  Unconsciously, she synchronized her body to Miranda’s as she had done so many times before.  In the past, learning to read Miranda’s breathing pattern, facial gestures and walking rhythm had served the purpose of keeping a job.  It had been an exercise in precision she had learned to master out of fear.  Now though, it was very different.  She tuned her intakes of air to Miranda’s because she wanted to breathe the same air.  She studied and memorized every crook, cranny and pore on that face, because it was the face she knew she would always love till the end of time.  She surrendered to her because there was no point on pretending that surrendering was something she did not want to do.

But surrendered she had from the fateful day Miranda had first called her... ‘Andrea’

So she looked and she listened as Miranda’s hands slightly trembled.

“What I am feeling is not anger or contempt.  What I am feeling is not just respect or admiration.  What I feel for you, Andrea, it is something that confuses me and in a way...frightens me.  Your presence in my life, directly or indirectly, forces me to be something I do not even recognize, much less understand...But it is there...and it was that feeling that propelled me to take risks that I have never taken before...

The moment I saw that man aim his gun at you, everything became clear to me...” mumbled Miranda as if talking to herself.  “I realized that I would be damned for all eternity if I let you walk away from me again...I could not...I cannot...”

With a sigh, the older woman breathed in deeply with fear but breathed out with hope. 

To leap in faith, she was destined.

“Andrea...I love you...I do.  I have no idea how it happened or why it happened but the pain I felt when you left me in Pars and the terror I felt two days ago when I thought you were going to die were enough to make me accept my own feelings...”

Andy’s eyes widened in awe.  “Oh God, Miran-”

Miranda stopped her with her hand. “Please don’t say anything Andrea...please...” The editor breathed in again as if tapping into an invisible well of strength.

“I have no idea how to do this.  I have no idea how to love anyone besides my children.  I am frightened, and frankly, not very hopeful that I can make you happy...but I need to try...”

Miranda’s left hand cupped the girl’s right cheek delicately.  Gently, she lifted Andrea’s left hand and brought the open palm to her lips, kissing it lightly as in worship, seconds before she placed it on her own forehead in a silent gesture of penitence and remorse.

“Forgive me Andrea for everything I have done and for everything I am sure, I will do...I love you and if you think you can love me back someday then pe-”

***

Lachesis and Atropos stared at Klotho who sat upright from her perching station.

“What?”

The sisters did not answer but opened their eyes wide and with their lips gestured down to Miranda, the subject of Klotho’s concentrated attention.

“Again I repeat, what?”

“Don’t you think she’s paid her dues..?”

The fate looked down, stood up and laced her arms in front of her chest in quiet thought.  “Dunno...”

“Come on Klotho...Miranda has never, ever asked anyone for forgiveness...”

Again the fate doubted and stalled.  She looked down at her pristine toga and pulled the golden thread around her waist buying time.

“Klotho...”

“Fine, fine..!” protested the entity who was perhaps too embarrassed to admit how much she had been enjoying Miranda’s perils. “Fine...as you wish...”

***

“Stop, stop, please...stop...” The girl breathed in with effort and exhaustion. “You don’t need to say anything else...stop...”

Andy felt like her head or heart or both, were about to explode.  In an instant she had forgotten not only the dull ache she had been experiencing on her shoulder and chest but every single moment of grief and anger Miranda had ever caused her.  She removed her hand quickly off Miranda’s forehead and leaned closer, grabbing hold of the editor’s blouse, pulling her closer.

Miranda took a sharp inhale of breath and again, held Andy’s head between the palms of her hands. 

“Andrea...I...”

But no sounds came out.

“Miranda...”

Miranda nodded, not missing a beat.

“Please...”

Andy pulled her by the blouse even closer.

“Kiss me...”

And Miranda did.

***

The kiss was desperate, rougher than what either had imagined or intended.  It was full of longing and sorrow and fear and joy and hope. It was short but palpable enough to convey all Miranda could not really bring herself to say in words and what Andy had not even had the chance to ponder on.

Seconds later, it was over.  Andy let her forehead drop on Miranda’s shoulder, chest heaving with too much emotion pent up. Miranda smiled coyly and laced her arms once more around Andrea’s torso while burying her face on the girl’s soft mane of hair. 

Inhaling deeply, after a few instants had passed; Miranda leaned forward and pushed Andy onto the pillows.  Whispering very softly, she uttered, “Please, rest now...rest...I’ll be here...”

Andy nodded slightly, smiled shyly and closed her eyes with a sigh.

In minutes, the girl was asleep.

***

Two weeks later, Andy rested on the first floor study in the townhouse.  Perched on an ample sofa, soft and plump like a nectarine, she drifted in and out of sleep.  The pain had subsided but had not left her entirely and she felt incredibly tired most of the time.

At some point she opened her eyes and finally focused on the figure of Miranda smiling down on her.  Andy smiled and the editor leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“Are you cold..?”

“No, no...I’m fine...”

Miranda smiled softly and sat next to her with care.  “Good...”

Andy closed her eyes and leaned towards Miranda who opened up her arms and brought her closer.  As she nuzzled into the other woman’s chest, she breathed in the deep scent of Miranda’s perfume and remembered an image she was not sure she had dreamed.

“Miranda..?”

“Yes..?”

“Did you take my socks off earlier on..?”

“Yes, you were sweating a bit under the blanket but your feet were sticking out so I thought that perhaps you were too warm.  That’s why I asked you if you were cold...Why you ask?  You want them back..?”

“You kissed my foot...” whispered Andy as she yawned.

“Yes...”

“I thought so...I wasn’t sure if I had dreamed it or what...”

“Did you not like it?” asked Miranda with a small edge of anxiety in her voice.

“No...I loved it...”

The older woman paused, smiled and kissed Andy’s head tenderly.

“Miranda?”

“Hmm..?”

“You remember that thing you said about not knowing if you could love me..?”

A slightly embarrassed Miranda breathed in deeply. “Vaguely...”

“I love you too...”

And Miranda smiled as her heart fluttered inside her chest.  She brought her girl closer to her and rubbed her back gently.  

“That is wonderful to know...”

FIN.