Title: Memories

By: Brithna

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Pairing: Miranda/Andy

Disclaimer: I don't own them and that's a real shame.

Summary: Miranda deals with the memories of her past and finds a way to make new ones.

"Mom…Mom, wake up." Cassidy poked her on the arm until she opened her eyes. Miranda looked at her daughter and wondered when a twelve year old had suddenly become her designated alarm clock. It was becoming clear that Cassidy slept less that she did. There was probably something wrong with that picture.

"Alright. I'm awake. What time is it?" Miranda stretched and pulled Cassidy into the bed with her.

"Six-thirty. I made coffee." Cassidy snuggled in close and Miranda took a deep breath inhaling the scent of girls' hair-strawberry's.

"Of course you made coffee. Cassidy, you really shouldn't be drinking coffee. You're too young." Right. It had been going on for two years. That's how long it took for Miranda to notice that a few sips of coffee were always missing from her first cup in the morning. For someone who was paid millions to notice details as small as a fleck of dust in a photo, Miranda definitely missed that one by miles. Now Cassidy made her own cup of coffee every morning and Miranda laid down her sword and gave up the battle.

"You always say that Mom. I still love you though." Cassidy kissed her cheek and slipped out of bed. "Don't go back to sleep. I have to wake up Caroline now and I don't have time to come back and check on you."

"Yes, dear." She fought the urge to salute. "I'll be down stairs shortly." Miranda sat up and took a sip of the coffee Cassidy left on her bedside table. There were certainly worse ways to start the morning. She could have had no one there to wake her up at all.

At eight-thirty the elevator door opened and Miranda stepped out ready to face all the incompetence the world had to offer. But of course, there was always Andrea to greet her. That at least took some of the edge off.

Andrea took the book out of her arms and started down the hall, leaving Miranda behind. Someone obviously woke up early and in a very good mood. "Andrea, is there a fire? Must you race down the hall-way?"

Andrea slowed down, finally realized she had not even said anything yet. "Sorry, good morning!" Ah, and there's the grin. Thank God. Miranda hated to miss that. It made her feel invincible.

"So, what's for breakfast this morning?" Andrea gave her a sideways glance and spoke in a low voice. Caroline felt the need to slip something into Miranda's bag every morning that was suppose to resemble breakfast.

"Today's fare is a granola bar and a banana." Miranda pulled it out of her bag as they rounded a corner and gave it to Andrea. "I'll take the banana; the granola bar does not interest me in the least. What's on the agenda?" Miranda threw her things onto Emily's desk and marched into her office with Andrea close behind. Since Miranda had acquired a Blackberry, there was little need to begin spitting out a string of orders as soon as the elevator door opened. Now Andrea and Emily simply received no less than ten e-mails before Miranda even arrived.

"Call Annie first. She wants to schedule a session with the twins. She said to consider the pictures an early birthday gift to them. I left a list by the phone for the others; you can make those calls whenever you wish. You have a nine o'clock with the art department and a meeting with accounting later today…and of course we're working on the e-mails you sent this morning. Do you need more coffee?"

"No, Cassidy is trying to make me go into cardiac arrest with that Jamaican Bold blend she buys on eBay. God knows what's in it." Miranda rolled her eyes and sat down. The list by the phone wasn't too long and Miranda could knock it out in no time along with her emails before the first long and uninspiring meeting on the schedule.

She heard Andrea chuckle and looked up. A catalog of imagines flashed through Miranda's mind. She saw every outfit, every glance in her direction, every smile. Did this girl even have one tiny clue how beautiful she was? Obviously not; which only served to deepen Miranda's attraction for her.

"I'll get you some water. Is there anything else?"

"No. That's all." Miranda never took her eyes off Andrea as she left.

After scheduling the girls' birthday photos and listening to Annie go on and on about a new project she was working on, Miranda tried to focus on the magazines spread across her desk but five minutes later her mind was already off in another world. Miranda took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Closing her eyes briefly she saw another flash of images. Her hair, those dark brown eyes with flecks of gold, those legs, the lips, and the freckles covering her face that you would only notice if you looked close enough…and often. And Miranda looked close enough, and often.

Ah, but there was no time for day-dreaming. Dreaming about her assistant was reserved for the deep, dark hours of the night, when it was safe and quiet. If she waited until then there was no need to worry about anyone seeing the panic, grief or any other emotion you could look up in the dictionary, written all over her face.

Why grief? Because she knew full well she couldn't have what she wanted. Too many ugly and evil deeds marred the way. Andrea knew her for what she was, which meant there was no chance. Andrea marched through life with a moral compass that would not withstand the likes of Miranda in a relationship of any kind. The only reason she was still here was because Nigel talked her out of leaving over a year ago in Paris. Miranda wanted to thank him for it but couldn't bring herself to do it. He already knew how she felt. There was no need to say it out loud.

Andrea had stayed, Miranda got a divorce, Runway survived and everybody carried on as usual. There were changes underneath the surface though but those where not spoken of, just like her thanks to Nigel.

"Miranda, I have Caroline." Emily called out from the outer office.

Miranda looked at the clock. Eleven-fifteen. It was their lunch time. "Put her through."

"Hey, Mom. What are you doing?" Caroline sounded out of breath.

"The same thing I'm always doing, darling. Why are you so out of breath and why did you not call me directly?" Miranda got up and shut the door. The older the girls got the less and less Miranda cared for other people hearing her conversations with them.

"I wanted to talk to Andy. We're dissecting frogs. It's gross. I came outside before lunch. Cass says hi."

Miranda could hear Cassidy in the background saying something about dinner. "Tell Cassidy I said hello as well and I will be home for dinner. Do not worry. Shouldn't you be going to lunch, darling?"

"Yeah, okay. Is Andy back at her desk?"

Miranda leaned over enough to see out of the glass wall that separated her from the best part of her day. She was back. "Yes, would you like to speak with her?"

"Yep. Bye, Mom."

"Alright, thank you for breakfast by the way. Let me transfer you." Miranda put Caroline on hold and transferred the call. She saw Andrea pick up the phone and listen for a moment before bursting out into laughter. No doubt, Caroline was recounting her frog adventure.

If only she could come on vacation with them everyone, including Miranda, would have a better time. Going back to her mother's old house was never something Miranda was excited to do. The actual house was not the problem. It wasn't where she grew up; but merely a gift purchased for her mother some years back. Yet, every piece of Miranda's childhood, even so far back as her parent's childhood, was in that house stored away for safe keeping. That was the real problem. Miranda remembered every item and every story that went along with it and because of her exceptional memory, sometimes everything was overwhelming. If Andrea went with them it might somehow ease some of the anxiety, but no, inappropriate and foolish were only two of the many words that could be used to describe that idea. Miranda would just have to get over the emotions and countless images all on her own.

"Andrea."

The beautiful smile that came through the door washed away the heavy feeling in Miranda's chest. Tonight she would allow herself to think about what it would be like to have Andrea there with them but right now there was work to do.

"Is Nigel attending the meeting with Nathanial for me? The man has a promising future but I am not in the mood for hearing more about his love for Anna. It turns my stomach. If he loves her so much he needs to knock on Vogue's door instead of ours."

"Nigel will be meeting with Nathanial and your meeting with accounting is in thirty minutes."

"Fabulous. Just what I was hoping for. I expect coffee when I return. That's all."

"Yes, Miranda."

As always Miranda watched every step she took. Sometimes she wondered if Andrea knew she was watching her. Andrea was eerily attuned to Miranda so yes, she probably knew. Yet she never said a word about it.

Miranda shook her thoughts away one more time and gathered her things for this meeting that would go nowhere as usual. At least they were consistent.

Miranda tossed her pen on the table and flipped to the next page of notes. Her chest was pounding. Would there ever be a day when these meetings didn't make her want to beat her head against a wall? Apparently not. Why she ever hoped for better was beyond reason.

There was a knock on the door and Miranda's ire instantly rose another notch. No one ever interrupted a meeting unless the building was about to fall down and even that was a sketchy thing to consider. Miranda ripped off her glasses and beckoned whoever the idiot was to come in.

"Yes, what is it?" Miranda bit back the many insults she was preparing to launch as Andrea came through the door. Something was wrong, very wrong because Andrea knew better.

"You need to take this call." Andrea held out the cordless to her. "It's James…your cousin James." Andrea swallowed hard and stepped closer when Miranda didn't lift a hand to take the phone. "Take the phone, Miranda." Andrea gave her a hard look as if she was silently commanding Miranda to move. It worked. Miranda took the phone and walked out of the meeting into the hall. She was only vaguely aware of Andrea's hand on her back as she went toward her office.

"Miranda, it's James."

"What is it James. What has happened?" James had never called the office directly so there was no need for small talk.

"It's the house, Miranda." She stopped in the hallway and Andrea practically ran right into her. "It caught fire. You need to come. I'm not home right now but Celia called. I'm on my way and will call you back soon. You need to be quick about it. Understand?"

Making statements out of what would ordinarily be questions ran in the family. Miranda understood exactly what she needed to do. "Yes, I will call you with my arrangements. James is it…" Is it gone? All her memories? Were they lost?

James hesitated. "I…Mia I don't know for certain. Just come." Mia? Instantly her mind was flooded by the memory of her cousin James in his infancy, reducing Miriam to Mia of all things. Much to her disliking the name stuck and for a long time everyone referred to her by that name. Now it seemed in James' heightened emotional state, she would have to get used to hearing that name again.

"I'm on my way." Miranda ended the call and realized Andrea's hand had been on her back the whole time and remained there as they walked the rest of the way down the hall.

"What do you need us to do?"

"He…he told you?"

Andrea pulled her hand away from Miranda's back "Yes, he did. Now tell me what you want to do."

Miranda sank into her chair and tried to think but it was almost impossible. "Uh…I…My mother's house is…" She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "I need a plane…London. Private. Call Jeffery and be sure to put it on my account. Tell him it's an emergency. Get Meryl to pack some things for me…a few days worth and my passport. I need her to stay with the girls. I'll call her later myself as well. Once you get the flight settled we'll go from there. If James calls put him straight through and obviously cancel the rest of my day…the rest of the week. That's all."

Andrea retreated and instinctively closed the door behind her. The tear running down her cheek was not missed by Miranda. As she watched it flow down gracefully and hit the floor, Miranda knew it was caused by the emotion of sympathy. What a waste.

n less than an hour and a half Miranda was on a private jet headed home. How ironic. It took a fire to get her to go back. Had this happened on purpose? Miranda lifted her hand away from her eyes and stared at Roy. She had no idea why he was here but he was here nonetheless.

He had simply met her on the runway with her bags and climbed aboard with her. When she turned to ask him if he'd lost his mind, he simply interrupted her and said, "Get on the plane Miranda. I'm going with you whether you like it or not and then I'm going straight back home. Just get on the plane."

Miranda got on the plane. For once in her life she didn't have the strength to argue.

Honestly it shouldn't have surprised her. Since Stephen left Roy had slowly been working his way in. Miranda let him, she couldn't help it. Everybody needs someone to talk to, right? The conversations were never deep and philosophical but they were enough. He knew how she felt about Andrea. Granted she'd never said a word to him but he didn't need her to. Roy was a good detective.

One night after a dinner party Roy saw Miranda's face once Andrea was out of sight. He turned in the seat and said "You should do something about that Miranda." Part of her wanted to fire him, part of her wanted to cry and part of her wanted to just tell him everything. Instead she did nothing and Roy got the hint and drove her home.

"Miranda?"

Miranda looked up at him in a daze. "Yes Roy, what is it?"

Roy shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. "So it's gone? The whole thing?"

"Yes, the whole thing, Roy." Miranda sniffed and looked out the window. "James let me know just before I got on the plane."

"What are you going to do?"

"I really don't know." She envisioned walking up to it, looking at it for five minutes then getting back on a plane but she seriously doubted that's how it would go. Miranda waved her hands in the air "This will likely be one of those situations I hate to find myself in."

"The fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of situation?" Roy chuckled softly then cleared his throat.

"Indeed. Why are you here Roy?" Miranda turned her gaze to him.

"Because you shouldn't go all that way by yourself. Not now. This is different." It always amazed Miranda at how firm Roy's voice could get in the blink of an eye.

"Hm. Well…thank you."

Roy coughed. It wasn't like he heard those words every day. "It's no problem. Andy said she'd go to the girls' recital tomorrow night…in case she forgot to tell you."

Miranda rolled her eyes. Of course she would. "I see. Well that's acceptable I suppose." Miranda looked out the window again. The girls' would be thrilled.

Roy fidgeted in his seat some more and Miranda knew what was coming. Roy always fidgeted when he was about to swim into what he considered dangerous waters. "You're lucky to have her…I mean in whatever way you can…she's good to have around."

Miranda smiled bitterly at her reflection in the window. Yes, she was lucky. She reminded herself of that fact even when she wanted to wallow in self-pity. She was lucky.

Miranda detested the weakness she felt inside right now. In an instant this whole event had drained her dry and just thinking about Andrea made that weakness even worse. If she made it through the flight without baring her soul to Roy it would a miracle.

Roy read her thoughts and retrieved two Coke's, a handful of those tiny little bottles Miranda was sometimes fond of along with two glasses of ice. One of her private guilty pleasures was a simple Jack & Coke.

Miranda distributed the Coke and Jack Daniels as if she was working on a science project. Perfection, even in the middle of utter chaos, made her feel better in some small way.

After insuring the drinks were perfectly equal Miranda downed half of hers and finally decided to respond to Roy's statement. "I know I'm lucky Roy…in whatever way I can have her, I know I'm lucky." Well, here we go. Let the soul barring begin.

"Have you ever thought about telling her…you know?" God, Roy was certainly brave today.

"Every day."

"Well then?"

"I can't. It's not that simple." There was no way. Too much had happened.

"You're wrong." Too bad he was wrong.

"Oh?" Miranda took a long sip of her drink.

"Yeah, you're wrong. As a rule you're never wrong but you are about this. Sorry boss but it's the truth. I think she…you know? Feels the same way."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Roy." Miranda put down her now empty glass and traded in her seat for the leather couch. Oh, the joys of a private jet. Roy brought her a pillow and blanket from a storage bin and she was quickly lulled into a deep sleep. In her dream Andrea was sitting in a chair nearby watching over her, making her feel safe.

TBC