Thank you so much to everybody who has stuck with my story and given me support and love and feedback throughout the chapters. We've come to the end! I loved writing it, even though it was difficult at times. So, last chapter awaits you. :) (Also, not trying to give anything away, but I kind of drew inspiration from the ending of Les Mis, so just mentally prepare yourself for perhaps another character death.)

Epilogue

It was chilly downstairs, but Miranda didn't care. Her head was swimming with emotions and memories, as it often did at that late time of night. Her head pounded with an oncoming migraine, and she had to leave her bedroom to clear it. Her old bones protested as she stumbled down the stairs, but with her famous Priestly determination, she made it down without any pause. Her Christmas tree was lit up, all decorated by Cassidy and her husband, Collin the evening prior. Cassidy had come home a few days ago to spend the holidays with Miranda, and the older woman couldn't remember the last time her heart felt so peaceful. Just watching her daughter and her son-in-law glow with happiness had made her own spirits lift. Miranda took a second to admire the tree before she limped slightly to the kitchen and stopped by one of her windows to notice snow that was lightly falling. Resting her forehead against the cold glass, she welcomed the contrast of temperature to her fevered skin. Her breath made a steam puff fog up the window and her lips tugged up in a small smile when she thought of how Andrea would have loved watching the snow fall. Andrea. Her smile faded, and she turned away from the window to pour herself a glass of ice-cold water. Swirling the liquid in her winkled hand, Miranda slowly ambled over to one of the armchairs in her living room. She winced when the arthritis in her knees cracked as she sat down, and closed her eyes and sighed with relief when she felt herself melt into the soft fabric. It was one of the few, simple pleasures she still enjoyed at her old age. Miranda could feel her body shutting down as she aged and try as she might, she didn't care anymore. She felt weak, and even now, she could feel her energy draining just from climbing down the stairs. Miranda finally realized what Andrea had felt all those years ago when she too had been faced with the realization that the tasks that had once been so simple were now the hardest hurdles she had to overcome on a daily basis. Miranda's breathing picked up, and she tried to think of other things to focus on instead of her burning lungs. Her girls.

The twins had grown up into beautiful young women, and attended colleges that made Miranda proud. Cassidy had opted to stay close, studying at the Fashion Institute of Technology to train herself to do what her mother did best, and Caroline had gone to San Francisco to attend Stanford to study law. They had both met charming young men, and gotten married within a month of each other. Miranda had never been so happy to see that her daughters were entering the next stage of their lives, happy and well-protected by their husbands. Her only regret was that Andrea was not there to witness such joyous occasions. Tipping her head back, Miranda's closed eyes filled with unshed tears.

There was no denying it. The past forty-some years had been more than difficult. Miranda had to face each day without her love, and she would be lying if she said that she had grown stronger with each passing day. Truth was, Andrea's death had devastated her. The young woman was Miranda's other half, and, as corny as it might have sounded, her one true love and soulmate. Being without her had made it almost impossible for the Editor to breathe each day. To help try and ease her soul, Miranda had donated graciously to the American Cancer Society, and had even dedicated multiple issues of Runway for cancer-stricken models, writers, and designers. Yet, she went to bed every night with a hole in her heart. She missed everything about Andrea. Her sweet smile, her gorgeous eyes, the way she lit up whenever she saw Miranda, the way her pillow-soft lips would kiss her after work and ask how her day went, the way she always remembered the birthdays of the house staff, her strong points of views on things that had provided hours of intelligent and thought-provoking conversations, the way that Andrea's spirit couldn't be dampened no matter what the situation, the way Andrea had loved her unconditionally...the list was endless. Above all, Miranda missed Andrea's company. She felt old and lonely. Sure, she had Nigel and Emily and Serena and occasionally Donatella to converse with, but they were no substitute for an empty, cold bed at night. She had never once even thought about dating another.

After another eleven years of hard, dedicated work at Runway, she had resigned, giving her position to her young daughter. Cassidy was young, but not as young as Miranda had been when she had taken the position of Editor-in-Chief. She had no doubts that her daughter would impress her, and she was right. Sales had increased, the magazine became fatter, and even Irv Ravitz was gone, having retired shortly after Miranda had. Miranda had helped Cassidy in the beginning, but the young woman had quickly picked it up, and soon was making wise decisions about spreads and photoshoots on her own. Miranda couldn't have been prouder. And Caroline had become a very successful lawyer, graduating in the top 2% of her class. She stayed in San Francisco and had gotten an internship at one of the most elite law firms in the city. Miranda was overjoyed for her other daughter as well. The twins had both worked so hard to get the best possible grades in school, and it was finally paying off. Miranda had also worked hard to not let her depression show in front of her girls, although she sometimes caught them staring at her with concern etched in their faces. She pulled herself together, wanting them to become a close family again, and had succeeded.

A tear slipped out of Miranda's shut eye and she let out a shuddering sigh before brushing it away. She often became reflective late at night, thinking about her life and of course, Andrea.

"Hey Mom," a soft voice broke her thoughts, and Miranda snapped her eyes open.

"Hello Cassidy," she relaxed.

"It's late," Cassidy reached over and took the full glass of water her mother hadn't touched.

"I know," Miranda looked to the side before turning back to Cassidy.

"And it's cold," Cassidy said gently, and grabbed the blanket laying over the back of the couch. She wrapped it around a shivering Miranda, who thanked her quietly.

"Is Collin still sleeping?" Miranda questioned, pulling the blanket tighter around her small frame.

"Yeah," Cassidy said with an affectionate smile on her face. "He sleeps-and snores- like a log during most nights."

"One of the wonderful traits about men," Miranda said dryly, making a small chuckle escape from Cassidy's lips. Changing topics, she asked, "When is your sister coming in again?"

Smiling sadly at how age had impaired her mother's usually impeccable memory, Cassidy sat down in the chair next to Miranda's and grasped her mother's freezing hands in her own, trying to warm them up. "She'll be here tomorrow with Mark."

"Good," Miranda smiled.

"Let's get you up to bed," Cassidy urged gently, offering a hand to Miranda.

As much as she didn't want to go back up and face her empty bed, she allowed her daughter to lead her back up the long flights of stairs and into her bedroom. Cassidy helped ease her down on the bed, and then kissed her goodnight and left the room. As Miranda laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, she thought about what Andrea would say if she knew that the older woman had been drowning in her grief and misery the last 40 years. Andrea would probably be heartbroken to find that her lover had been struggling with her depression and sorrow for so long. Her headache returned.

"I miss you so much Andrea," Miranda whispered and closed her eyes.

The next day, Cassidy and Collin left to pick up Caroline and her husband at the airport and Miranda was left by herself. Skimming the surface of her books, she closed her eyes and picked one at random. Surprisingly, when she looked at it, a familiar girl with long wispy hair pushed a huge mop in her small child-like hands, and her large eyes seemed to stare back at her from the cover. Miranda's heart dropped and she rested the book back on the shelf, intent on pushing it back to its place between the other books before hesitating and pulling it back out again. She hobbled over to her favorite armchair and sunk into the seat before opening the book and reading. Soon though, her eyes became slightly hazy and painful from the strain of reading, and her head started to hurt. Angry at the ever-present deterioration of her aging body, Miranda put her famous determination to use and skipped to the part that had convinced her to read it in the first place.

Jean Valjean took Fantine's head in both his hands, and arranged it on the pillow as a mother might have done for her child; then he tied the string of her chemise, and smoothed her hair back under her cap. That done, he closed her eyes.

Fantine's face seemed strangely illuminated at that moment.

Death, that signifies entrance into the great light.

Sighing, Miranda closed the book with one hand and tipped her head back. Death that signifies entrance into the great light. She snorted at the words, finding that they angered her. Miranda tried to raise her left arm to rub at her tired eyes when she realized that she physically couldn't. She didn't feel too startled though, since it had probably fallen asleep from her time reading, and tried to raise it again to no avail. Frightened, she looked down at her limp arm and focused all of her energy to lift it again and panicking when it wouldn't.

"What the..." she muttered.

She cautiously poked at her left arm with her right pointer finger and panicked even more when she couldn't feel the harsh jab. The 93-year old woman stood up quickly, and promptly fell back on her butt when the room started spinning. She squeezed her blue eyes tightly and focused on not passing out. Her headache pounded insistently in her forehead and she could hear the front door opening and closing with echoes of laughter floating into the living room. Miranda opened her mouth, intent on alerting her children about her...condition, before blackness slowly creeped along the peripherals of her sight, and she finally succumbed to it. Her snowy white hair fell back and her head slumped to the side, her mouth still open.

"Miranda," a soft voice called through her dark abyss. "Miranda, sweetheart, it's time to wake up now."

With a lot of effort, she managed to peel open her eyes, only to immediately recoil when a harsh, bright light hit her retinas. She snapped them shut again, taking comfort in the darkness.

"Come on Miranda, that's it. Just a little bit more darling," the calming voice continued. "You're so close to coming back home to me."

Miranda timidly cracked her lids open again, and it took a minute for her to adjust. When her eyes finally could see again, all she saw was white. She pushed herself up from her laid-down position, and looked around. There was nothing in sight-something that both relaxed and frightened her. Miranda looked down at herself, and sighed when she saw her shrunken, elderly body.

"Hello?" she timidly called out before she pulled herself together. The Miranda Priestly she knew wouldn't have shown any fear against the unknown. "Who's there?"

"Sweetheart, you can't see me because you are caught between life and death."

"A-Andrea?" Miranda gasped, and spun around in hopes of catching a sight of the beautiful brunette.

"You can't see me because somehow, you've been given a choice," Andrea's voice repeated gently. "A choice whether to stay on earth and live to see the next chapters of your girls' journeys, or a choice to come with me to the next life."

"What?" Miranda gasped. How could she choose between being there for her girls or selfishly leaving them? Andrea was silent, knowing that it would be wrong to alter Miranda's choice in any way. "Um, I-I don't know," Miranda said after a long pause and hung her head in shame.

She felt like the worst mother ever, but what was left for her? She had lived a good life. She had left Runway in good hands. She had seen her beautiful daughters get married to wonderful men, and she had the glorious opportunity to watch them grow and mature under her nurturing care. Most importantly though, she knew that they knew that she loved them more than life itself.

Andrea's sweet voice caressed Miranda's ears, somehow knowing exactly what to tell her. "You passed by an extremely large stroke. The symptoms came fast, and the oxygen leading to your brain was quickly cut off. Your body couldn't handle the pressure of losing the blood cells in your brain, so it shut down. At your age, it would have been almost impossible to survive such a large stroke." she paused to allow Miranda to fully absorb everything.

"So it was my time to go," Miranda mused and her hand came up to run through her hair.

"Perhaps," was all Andrea replied with.

"Well, I probably would have died sooner or later," she said quietly.

"I can show you them if you would like," Andrea offered softly, knowing that seeing her girls one last time was what Miranda needed to make her decision.

"Y-yes please do," Miranda's frail body shook. Whether from fear, worry, tension, or love, she didn't know.

There was no response, but the emptiness surrounding her began to recede, leaving her standing in her own living room. She gasped when she saw her dead body slumped over in the chair, and tentatively reached her fingertips out to touch herself. Deep wrinkles lined the face of the woman in the chair, and Miranda couldn't help but feel disgusted at how old she looked. A sob broke her thoughts, and she turned to see Cassidy holding the Dead Miranda's hand, crying at her side with Collin silently offering her support by resting his hand in the middle of her back. Caroline was clutching her other hand and also pouring her grief and sorrow into it. Miranda's heart ached at the sight.

"She's probably up in heaven with Andy," Cassidy sniffled and a weak smile appeared on her lips.

"She probably is," Caroline agreed, silent tears streaking down her face. She reached over and clutched her sister's hand tightly.

They were silent, drawing comfort from their hands connected with each other's, and with their mother's. Miranda stepped behind them and stroked their hair, sadly knowing that they couldn't feel it. She hoped that they could feel her presence, even if they couldn't feel her physical touch.

"My Bobbyseys," the affectionate nickname from their childhood slipped out, and Miranda smiled at the warmth and familiarity the name brought.

"I love you so much Mom," Cassidy whispered and pressed a kiss to Dead Miranda's palm.

"I love you too Mom," Caroline murmured, copying Cassidy's actions and pressing her lips to Miranda's other palm. "More than words can express."

"I love you two so much too," Miranda said with tears in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you both."

Finally, it was clear to her what her choice should be. It was her time to go. She could feel it. It wasn't just because she could see Andrea again-her whole being knew that her time on Earth had passed. She had left a legacy behind. She had touched souls through Runway, guided her daughters through life's hard courses, and fell in the most passionate, deepest love she had ever experienced. While many biographies might be written about the great Miranda Priestly and her accomplishments, struggles, and relationships, nobody could write about her personal life that happened behind the closed doors. Only her family and closest friends had the right to know that side of her. Miranda allowed a true, genuine smile to grace her face. Finally, she felt at peace.

She took one last look at her family crowded around her body, and took some comfort in the fact that she had people who loved her, and would mourn her. Turning away, Miranda began walking out of her living room. She somehow wandered into her kitchen, and paused when she saw the snow still falling outside the window. Miranda made her way to the closed door, and walked straight through it. Pausing when she reached the middle of her yard, she rested her hand on the single tree that resided there, and let out a genuine laugh. She was finally free.

"Miranda?" That voice again made the older woman melt inside.

Slowly, she turned around and was faced with the most beautiful sight in the world. Her Andrea, no longer sickly-looking, was standing in the middle of snow flurries with her signature smile on her face. Miranda's breath caught in her throat when she saw that wonderful smile being directed at her again. "Andrea," she breathed reverently. The younger woman had her long, chocolate locks back, and her pale skin shone with a healthy glow. She was wearing the gorgeous Prabal Gurung gown she wore to the Oscars, yet she was not shivering in the winter air.

Andrea's dark eyes, so full of love, hungrily stared in Miranda's crystal blue ones before she started to walk closer. Miranda felt rooted in place. It felt like a ghost was walking to her. After what seemed like an eternity, Andrea finally stood close enough to her that if she even twitched her hand that was resting limply by her side, she would touch the beautiful brunette. She stared deep into chocolate pools, not daring to breath, for fear that she might break the wonderful spell she was under. Andrea was really with her again. In person.

"Oh Andrea," Miranda cried, putting all of her pent-up despair, grief, and love into the name before launching herself in Andrea's arms.

Strong arms caught her, and wound themselves tightly around her back, providing physical proof that the brunette was really there with her. After 40 plus years of not feeling the beautiful woman's arms around her, Miranda's eyes leaked with tears as she rested her head on Andrea's strong shoulder. She buried her face in Andrea's neck, as if she was trying to bury herself in Andrea's body. Dark brown hair tumbled down around Miranda's face, shielding her and enveloping her in Andrea's delicious scent and solidifying her very presence. Somehow, she could feel the younger woman's embrace, and it helped validate the fact that it wasn't just a hallucination or a crazy dream. The warm arms encircled her even further, pulling her closer to Andrea's body, and closer to home. A gentle pressure on the back of her head startled her before she realized that it was just the other woman's hand holding her close, much like a mother would do to her child. Slender fingers tangled in Miranda's hair, making the older woman shiver at how exquisite the feeling was.

"My dear sweet Miranda," Andrea breathed, tears streaming down her own face.

She kissed the smooth skin on Miranda's cheek before resting her head on top of the soft hair and holding the older woman tightly, savoring the feeling of having her love in her arms again. Gently, she started rocking them back and forth, hoping to calm Miranda's gulping hiccups down.

"Shh," she murmured in Miranda's ear. "You're safe. I'm here Mira."

"I missed you so much," Miranda whimpered into Andrea's soft neck.

"As I missed you," Andrea said sadly, gently stroking the soft white hair as she spoke. "I saw how it was killing you after I left. I wanted so badly to return, but of course, that wasn't possible. So I stayed and watched you spend endless nights by yourself, crying. It shattered me, seeing you in so much pain. As you know, the dead can't touch the living, so even though my hand rested on top of yours throughout all of your grief, you could not feel me. I stayed with you every day and every night, hoping against hope that somehow you would be able to sense me, or somehow find happiness with another person again." She cut off with a gasp when Miranda tightened her arms painfully.

"No," the older woman whispered, her lips brushing against the smooth skin of Andrea's neck as she spoke. "No, there could never be somebody else. There was only you."

"But I wanted you to be happy," Andrea dropped her fingers from Miranda's hair and started running her hands up and down Miranda's back soothingly.

Miranda's own hands were locked around Andrea's waist, holding tight, fearing that if she let go, the brunette would leave again and never come back. "I could never be happy without you."

Andrea sighed and then gently nudged Miranda's forehead up with her own. Staring deep into watery blue pools, Andrea slowly leaned in and kissed her. Their lips instantly recognized each other, and started moving in sync. When Andrea soft tongue swiped at Miranda's bottom lip, she suddenly jerked away, but remained in the brunette's loving embrace.

"Andrea, you do realize you're kissing an old woman, right?" Miranda was appalled that Andrea still found her attractive at 93 years old.

"Darling, when you had the realization that you were free, you changed back into the age you unconsciously loved the most. Your 50-some-year-old self, which I assume means that you chose it because it was the age you met me," Andrea giggled and rubbed her nose against Miranda's.

The older woman gasped and looked down at her body. She was wearing one of her favorite outfits-a creamy white wrap-around blouse with a matching chemise underneath, and a simple black pencil skirt. Oddly, her signature 4-inch heels and hosiery were missing, and she was both barelegged and barefoot. Not that she minded of course...it felt rather liberating not to wear them.

Andrea leaned in and her cool breath flitted against pink lips. "Although, I saw you when you were an old lady, and must say, you aged well."

Miranda chuckled and rested her forehead against Andrea's. "Honestly Andrea." She slung her arms lower across her love's back and then bit her lip. "You're right by the way."

"About what?" Andrea's arms also slid lower.

"My favorite age period is my 50s because it was when I first met you," Miranda smiled and Andrea leaned in to kiss her lips again. "And, you were right about another thing."

"And what's that?" Andrea grinned against Miranda's lips.

"You really were always with me," Miranda said, her voice sounding slightly vulnerable.

Andrea tilted her head up and gave her a breath-taking smile. Her dark eyes held so much love and expression when she replied tenderly, "Of course I was. I love you Miranda."

"I love you too," Miranda almost sobbed again. "So so much."

"Hey now," Andrea gently wiped some errant tears away from the silver-haired woman's face. "No more crying. We are together, and that's what matters."

Miranda smiled blissfully at her, and then tilted her head to the side and noticed the snow again.

"It's beautiful," Miranda said.

"I love it," Andrea squeezed her arms gently around Miranda's slender frame.

"I knew you would," Miranda grinned.

They fell in silence for a while, just enjoying the peace and comfort their souls felt at being reconnected. Their foreheads were resting against each other, and their closed lashes cast long shadows on their cheeks.

"Andrea?" Miranda said quietly.

"Yes Miranda?" Andrea replied just as softly.

"What's next?" she bit her lip at the childish question.

"You mean for our future?" Andrea lifted her head and brushed her lips against Miranda's forehead.

"Yes."

"Who knows?" Andrea grinned and shrugged adorably. "I suppose another life. As long as we're together, then everything will turn out fine."

As corny as it sounded, Miranda felt a sense of reassurance with Andrea's words.

"All right then," she exhaled and finally leaned back, the farthest amount of space she had put between them since they had embraced.

"All right," Andrea echoed with a smile.

She held both of Miranda's hands in her own, and leaned in to kiss her again. Their lips brushed each others softly before the kiss deepened, and their tongues came in play. Miranda wrapped her arms around the taller brunette's neck, tangling her hair in the brunette locks she had missed so much, and Andrea cupped her face in her hands. Andrea sighed blissfully into Miranda's mouth when she tasted the sweet flavor of her love. Oh, how she had missed Miranda. Without realizing it, Andrea somehow had Miranda backed up against the tree. Flushed, they both pulled back before it become any more passionate, eyes sparkling and their hearts lighter than ever. Andrea rested her hands on Miranda's slim waist and touched her forehead to her love's before erupting into hushed giggles. Heart full from hearing that lovely sound come out of her Andrea, Miranda ran her hands down soft bare arms and rested her hands on top of the brunette's. Then, with a small smirk on Miranda's face, she tangled her fingers with Andrea's, and spun them around so the younger woman was pushed against the tree with her arms hanging above her head. Andrea's eyes sparkled, and Miranda let out her own beautiful laugh. She leaned in to kiss those plump lips again, and then leaned back with a contented sigh. Loosing her grip on Andrea's hands, she allowed the other woman to lower her arms and tightly grasp her fingers.

"I love you my Mira," Andrea smiled and reached up to cup Miranda's cheek affectionately as her other hand drifted down to a slim waist. Blue eyes closed and cherished the contact. "You were-and still are-everything to me. Mira, you were with me during my darkest hour, and took care of me, no matter how hard it was for you. Words cannot express how much your love means to me. I love you so much. Always have, and always will."

"I love you too Andrea," Miranda returned the smile and pressed her soft lips to Andrea's warm palm. "Never has a day gone by where I haven't thought about you, and wished more than anything else that you would be back by my side. I've missed you so much, but now, standing here with you holding me, my soul is finally complete again."

They kissed again, slowly this time, and then Miranda tugged Andrea away from the tree. Their hands found each others quickly, and held on tightly as if they would be lost without the contact. Then, with loving smiles directed at each other, they both started walking, not caring where they went as the snow around them fell heavier and heavier until they disappeared in a sea of white.