DISCLAIMERS/NOTES

1. I DO NOT OWN THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. This is just for fun.

2. Sorry for the unimaginative title.

PART 7

There was a distinctive knock at the door and Irv Ravitz halted the conversation he was having. Recognising the knock, he smiled. "Come in, please." He and his companion watched as a young, curly-gingerhaired woman tentatively entered. "Hello, Jezebelle," Irv said. "I trust you have... something to report."

Jezebelle, second assistant to Miranda Priestly-Sachs, nodded as she approached the chairman of Elias-Clarke's desk. "Something happened yesterday, Mr. Ravitz, that I think you might be interested in." She paused as she looked at the third person in the room.

Jacqueline Follet grinned from her sitting position at Jezebelle's right. "Do tell, little one," she said. "We're all friends here." Nodding again, Jezebelle went about explaining everything that happened in the Runway offices that day. Unbeknowst to her superiors, the second assistant witnessed it all from a sneaky hiding place in the nearby restroom. Jezebelle revealed it in every detail: Emily's breakdown. Andy's reaction. Miranda's rage. To say Irv and Jacqueline where fascinated would be an understatment.

They were particularly interested in hearing about what occurred in Miranda's office between the editor and the Brit. By then, Jezebelle had returned to her desk - feigning ignorance, not that anyone ever noticed her presence anyway - and used her ability to read lips to glean every word that came from the Dragon. Although even a soundproofed room would not have stifled her brief explosion of rage when she slammed down on her desk and screamed. Jezebelle nearly had a stroke at that, so God knows how Emily felt.

Once the second assistant had finished, Irv nodded in approval. "Thank you, Jezebelle. I'll make sure you get your little 'bonus' in your pay packet this month."

"Thank you, Mr. Ravitz," Jezebelle said with a smile.

"Now, you best get back, before your absense is noticed," the chairman said. "But come back here after your workday ends. You know what to wear."

The young woman nodded slightly. "Yes, Mr. Ravitz." She turned to leave, but as she did so, the editor of Runway's French branch smacked her on the backside.

"I'll be here too, sweet thing," said Jacqueline with a wink.

Jezebelle's eyes widened and she visibly gulped. The second assistant left hurridly as all the colour drained from her face.

Chuckling, Jacqueline turned back to Irv. "Good news, it seems."

"Great news," Irv said. "I knew it was just a matter of time before Miranda's armour started to crack."

"Still a way to go, Irv," said Jacqueline. "It's too much to ask for the bitch to quit of her own accord." Ever since the deal with James Holt fell through, Jacqueline Follet had been determined to usurp Miranda as editor of US Runway. "But at least we know she can be hurt. In her... delicate... state, her defenses are finally down."

Irv rolled his eyes as he went to his private drinks cabinet. "Taking the metaphor abit far, Jackie - but yes, it's now clear Miranda's weak spot is open. And we've always known what that weak spot is, haven't we?"

Jacqueline quirked an eyebrow. "Andy Sachs?"

Irv smiled as he poured two glasses of wine. "Andy Sachs."

"Leave that fun for me," the French Runway editor said as she took the glass held out to her.

"What's Andy to you?" Irv asked.

Jacqueline wiggled her eyebrows. "Let's just say... Runway isn't the only thing of Miranda's that I want."

"Fair enough," sighed Irv. "But let's make sure we don't go too far - they're both carrying, remember. We want Miranda gone from the magazine, that's all." Irv meant it. He hated Miranda, but hardly wanted dead babies on his conscience. He shivered at the thought... not noticing Jacqueline's casual shrug.

"Details, Irv, details," she said nonchalently. "Let's just take this moment to enjoy the good news. And we can celebrate properly when that pretty little assistant comes back."

Irv held out his glass. "Andy Sachs... more important to Miranda Priestly than Runway - in her own words." His eyes widened. "We finally have her."

Jacqueline smiled. And she would have everything Miranda Priestly held dear. "I'll drink to that... "

THE END