Up To The Test (1/5)
Author: Coleen /musicinferno
Rating: PG-13 / M (Mature, like Miranda. Later on)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy, Jacqueline/Andy (Gasp!)
Summary: We've all heard of misunderstandings, yes? Well that word only goes so far. Three women. One long friendship. One blossoming love. One big misunderstanding. Oh yes, Jacqueline has her ways.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story that are related to The Devil Wears Prada. No, I don't make money off of it so no infringement is needed. I just want to make people happy, thank you very much.
Author's Note: Inspired by the song Speechless by Lady Gaga. One of the prompts I am working on. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as I have when writing it.


“What's happened to you?” The four words escaped Miranda's pale lips, looking at the person in front of her with disbelief. She covered her worry with disdain. The moving figure said nothing, but in response, freed the stack of boxes from their grip, letting it drop to the floor.

“There.” They turned, walked out, never looking back.

Miranda sat back into her seat, folding the arms of her glasses in, all the while musing to herself. This was not normal. More so, this was just not supposed to happen. What happened? She thought. What has happened to my Andrea? She froze. Did she just call her my Andrea? To her dismay, Miranda came to care for her second assistant. Her faithfulness since Paris Fashion Week had proved her worthy of Miranda's acknowledgment. Of course she didn't show her keen liking towards the girl like a tween did with the whole Twilight rage, but let herself think it was okay to be nice around her. And only her.



“Oh don't be ridiculous, Andrea. Everyone wants this. Everyone wants to be us.” Miranda swept the sepia tinted shades on her face, smiling with her rose petal lips. Stepping out of the car, blinding flashes came from all directions, illuminating her already perfect skin and snow white hair.


Did Miranda just say what she thought she said? Did Miranda just refer to the two of them as us? But Andy didn't want this.. she didn't want the “life” of sacrificing your life for your work. She didn't want to be coming home late nights to her husband and children, barely spending anytime with them. She didn't want –


The seat next to her was empty.


Had she been thinking for that long? When Andy had finally composed herself, she quickly stepped out of the car, closing the door rather hard. She watched Miranda mount the steps, her head at a downward angle trying to focus less on the bright lights. Fuck this. She didn't want this life. She didn't want to be like Miranda, or have any traces of her even being seen in her blood. She wanted to go back to her old, simple, life where she didn't have to know the difference between two identical looking belts. She continued to watch the older woman saunter her way through the parting sea of paparazzi.


Andy was ready to leave, ready to turn away from this unnecessary life. But then, at the exact moment when she decided she would do so, Miranda brought her head up, turned it to the left where camera's were flashing, and gave a curt nod, a small, gloomy smile accompanying it. That wasn't even a smile. Even Andy knew how hard Miranda was trying to cover up her miserable state of being.


Honestly, how many photographers are there in the world? Miranda thought. They could be doing something more important, she admitted. Maybe covering world news or something along the lines of that. Speaking of photographers, Meisel had been quite disappointing with his work lately. He was scheduled to shoot next month's issue for Runway. She'd have to change that. Turning around to remind Andrea of the task to do when they came back to New York, she was surprised to find nothing but concrete steps. Her mouth that was open to speak had closed shut, and her head suddenly cocked from side to side, stretching past the crowd.


“MOVE!!” A voice stated clearly from the rising noise. Miranda dropped her gaze down to the foot of the steps and found Andrea, squeezing her way through a wall of photographers and news reporters. Unacceptable.


Andy was frustrated. For crying out loud, she was the woman's assistant and she couldn't even get to tag along behind her because of her infamous reputation? She tried once more. “MOVEEEEEEEEE!” She dragged out the word. No luck. Getting tired, Andy slid her right arm through to part a way for herself, but felt a small tug at the other end on her hand. Odd. The tug became stronger, eventually breaking the wall of sleazy french reporters. “Honestly, Andrea. It's becoming a habit that you seem to leave my side every now and then.” Miranda realized she was still holding the brunette's hand. She dropped it, flared her nostrils and continued her stride up.


“I would never leave your side, Miranda.” Andy took a step forward, paving a clear path for her employer, shouting out an occasional “move!” when needed.


The mindless response made Miranda stop stepping up, silently pondering the thought of never being left alone; she wanted that very much. Miranda was so used to people moving out of the way for her, running away from her out of sheer terror. But all she wanted.. in all honesty.. was for someone to just grab a hold of her and hug her. Yes, hug. She couldn't remember the last time she felt an embrace so real. She couldn't even remember the last time a hug lasted more than a second, or to be honest, when she last hugged someone.



“Six!” The three lettered nickname made Andy pivot on her heel. “Why in such a rush? Are you being summoned by Queen Elizabeth or someone from high up?” Nigel caught up with his co-worker, grabbing hold of several bags that hung on each of her fingers.


“Nigel, did you get hit by a camera from the paparazzi or something? We leave tomorrow morning back to New York, and I'm nowhere near finished these errands for Miranda.” Andy quickened her pace to Miranda's suite, hoping Nigel wouldn't ask her what the 'errands' she had been told to do. It had been a long day today. It was the evening before the flight back, the evening where an awkward dinner would be held between Runway employees, and the evening where Miranda gave Andy a slip of paper, instructing her to do more ridiculous errands that were just down right.. ridiculous. “Just when I thought I was done everything and could relax a little, she goes and gives me another endless list of tasks.” Andy covered up.


“Oh, honey. Have you learned nothing? Miranda's unpredictable. Always. Everywhere. Anywhere. Anytime.” He stopped at the woman's door and handed all the bags over to Andy. “Go.” He instructed, and within a second was walking to the elevator doors. “That dinner is in an hour, see you then, Six.” The elevator doors opened and her bald fairy godmother was gone.


She silently kicked herself in her mind. Andy forgot the dinner was going to be this soon, and she'd have to find another ensemble suitable to wear, considering the one she was now wearing smelled like smoke and rain, running through the blocks of the city to find whatever it was Miranda wanted. But no matter how impossible the woman was, Andy could not and would not ever leave her. It was weird to say, but she knew in her heart of hearts that Miranda needed her. She hadn't yet realized it, but she knew it to be true. Her free hand swiped the card, a green light flashing in acceptance.


A muffled cry floated around the dimmed room. A quiet sniffle followed shortly after, and an even quieter, “Andrea..” became audible. This was getting creepy. There was someone in Miranda's suite crying, and they pronounced her name the same way as Miranda. Wait. Was it possible that it was Miranda crying? About what now? As much as she wanted to run away from this drama, Andy didn't. Instead, she located the sound of sniffling, making her way to the kitchen.


Miranda was there, hunched on the kitchen stool, hands tucked over one another on her lap. “Oh.. Andrea.” Miranda turned her head weakly, noticing the girl's arrival; she was caught off guard, and she couldn't care less. Andrea had already seen her breakdown before, what more would she expect this time?


“I.. uh, have all the things you wanted picked up.” Andy raised up the clumps of bags that clung to her right arm, all the while stepping closer to leave them in front of her employer. Miranda gave a curt nod and continued to stare in space, her profile elegantly lifting up. Andy quietly took out a pad and pen, ready to take notes. She stood there waiting.


Silence. A good few minutes passed by without a word spoken.


“For everything I've got...” Miranda finally said.


Andy furrowed her brow.


“Stephen wants to take me for everything I've got.” She unclasped her hands to reveal her phone. She pressed a key, the dial tone echoing out into the quiet space. Miranda placed the phone on the island and pushed it in the brunette's direction. By instinct and by fear, Andy took the phone, placed it to her ear and listened.


“To replay the message, press 1.” The automated voice message spoke loudly causing Andy to pull the phone away rather quickly. She pressed 1. “Message received October 25th, 2006. 3:58PM. From...” Andy listened in mindlessly to the voice, her gaze intent on Miranda. The naming of the date made the woman cringe. October 25th. Miranda's birthday.


Stephen's voice came on.


“Everything.” Was the first word that was breathed out. “I'm taking you for everything you've got. Do you hear me, Miranda? This is the only way to get you, considering you've been ignoring my calls ever since I told you wanted a divorce. You bitch. You're probably there.. fucking some French man, aren't you? You conniving...” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. Andy's eyes widened at the inane statement. She saw Miranda's jaw tremble in agony; never had she seen someone so hurt, in her life.


Sure, Stephen was her husband.. but come on. This dickwad couldn't possibly make her feel so much pain. Miranda had the power to fight him, didn't she? Another deep breath followed on the phone, and Andy soon realized why Miranda had been so upset. “..And when I mean everything, I mean everything.. including the girls. They're better off with me...” Suddenly, the sound of a door opening became audible in the message, following the voice of what was probably some bimbo Stephen called his mistress. The sound of the mic being covered was heard, and the message was ended. “To replay the message, press 1.” Andy shut the phone, her eyes shooting down to the floor. So much for fidelity.


“He can take my money..” Miranda admitted. “He can push for financial benefits..”


Andy shot her head up and stared at her in disbelief, shocked to hear this coming out of the older woman's mouth.


“But he cannot take my girls.” Miranda finally met Andy's gaze, a jumble of uncertain emotions flashing across her face. She looked away. Great. Miranda had done such a good job at building this icy reputation, and she was now about to ruin it by crying in front of this girl. Unacceptable.


“They were never his to begin with.” Miranda heard the soothing voice step closer. She brought her head up to find her assistant sitting on the stool across from her. Andy didn't know where this courage suddenly came from. She never knew any assistants or anyone, to be honest, who had the guts to go up to Miranda when she was in this state.


“Excuse me?” Miranda was taken aback.


“They were never his to begin with.” Andy repeated. “They are yours. You raised them. They love you. They don't love him.” She assured. Suddenly Miranda became uncomfortable with this. She wasn't used to being assured by anyone, for anything. She did the only sensible thing and closed up her heart.

“Leave.”


Andy widened her eyes. “L-lea-leave?” Okay.. what a mood swing.


“You don't even want me to contact your lawyer or anyone to prepare him for your arrival tomorrow?” Andy insisted.


“I asked for no such thing.” Miranda slipped off the stool and began to walk away.


Oh fuck no. Andy didn't like this opening up and closing up one bit. Quite frankly, it pissed her off. “You asked for no such thing, but you do need such things, Miranda.” It surprised Miranda the courage this girl suddenly had, but it surprised Andy even more when she grabbed hold of the walking woman's arm and stopped her.


Miranda pulled away.


Andy grabbed her again. “Let go of me at once.” Miranda breathed through her teeth, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Andrea didn't budge. “Do not make me repeat myself, Andrea, or you will lose your job.”


“I will make you repeat yourself. I will not let go of you and I don't give a flying fuck if you're going to fire me for this.” Miranda tried to pull away in response, but Andy's grip became tighter. “Just as long as I know you're alright, I don't care about anything else.” Andy felt Miranda's arm lose its tension. Just when she thought she got through the woman, Miranda abruptly pulled away from Andy's loosened grip and continued walking, faster.


Stubborn woman.


“Miranda!” Andy called, she caught up with the woman and reached out for her shoulder, ready to turn her around, but Miranda had pivoted on her bare feet and took a predatory step forward, causing Andy to take a cautious step back.


“Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. Don't think about me. It is not your job to care this much for me. It is your job to do what I say, not what I -” Miranda's throat began to fill with.. something. Could it be more pain? She thought she was invulnerable to the emotion, but apparently not. Not after all the fluster of emotions that came the past few days, Miranda began to question many more things about herself. Go away. Her mind pleaded. Go away, before you see the mess I will become.


She didn't understand the way her assistant's mind worked. Miranda had pushed Andrea away, – more like threw her and rejected her – and she was still keen on comforting her? Was the girl on drugs? Was she given some special 'brownie' while running errands for her? Still, Miranda didn't understand. No one should care this much for her, and she wouldn't allow it without working for it. Her eyes threatened the younger woman, a stare so icy that even the arctic would go down 20 degrees further.


Please. Her heart said something else. But she couldn't show Andrea how she truly felt; she couldn't show her that she needed her. So she continued to stare at her with threatening eyes.


Thinking she finally instilled fear in the veins of her assistant, Miranda became baffled at the action to come. Andrea had grabbed her, and wrapped her arms around her. A hug. Miranda froze in terror. She was being hugged. And what was worse was that she needed it, but she didn't want to admit it.


“You don't need to say anything, Miranda. Just please, please, let me do this. You don't want it, but you need it. Please.” No. Miranda shouted in her mind. No, you need to stop, please, before I make a fool of myself. Apparently, Andrea had been so good at her job, she could even read her mind. “No one ever said expressing what you felt was against the law. No one ever said it was weak. It means you're strong, because you couldn't care less what others think. You do it at Runway when you find something unsuitable for the magazine. Do it here, for your benefit, and just let it all out, please.”


Miranda finally gave in to the comfort she hadn't felt in so long, and cried.. a real cry. Her arms automatically wrapped around the younger woman, and her mouth fell on her shoulder, her soft cries finally being heard. Miranda's knees felt weak, and Andy noticed. She slowly leaned on a wall and began to slide down it, all the while holding Miranda tighter than ever.


They sat there against the Victorian walls in each other's embrace. “As long as I'm here, I will not let anyone hurt you like he has. Do you understand, Miranda?” Andy felt the nodding of the silver head. She sighed into the dark room. “I promise.”


It was Miranda's birthday, and she deserved a good present. Gucci and Prada didn't have anything on what her assistant had given her. What Andrea had given her was intangible. She had given her hope. Not to live on, but to live for.



♥ To Be Continued: Thoughts, anyone? I was in a really.. down mood and decided to just let it all out with this particular scene. I'm quite the Debbie Downer.

Part 2, anyone?