Incomprehensible Desire: Mounds by Eveh

Part 15

Villainy
Chapter 17

Miranda hadn't wanted to meet with Alain, but she couldn't avoid it. When she had failed to return his phone call he had simply called again, and then again, and again until Miranda considered changing all of her phone numbers, Emily's included. Her first assistant had always proved competent in fielding the calls Miranda wanted to avoid, but she failed miserably when it came to turning Alain away. Miranda supposed that Emily's lack of ability may have had something to do with Miranda having given specific instructions to put Alain's calls through. She didn't trust Emily to know which calls from Alain to take and which to ignore. She was at times overly enthusiastic in the role as gatekeeper between Miranda's personal life and professional one, and Miranda didn't trust her to not go insane with power.

So, when Alain wasn't acting like an immature dolt, he limited their contact to important conversations that would usually involve pertinent information about the girls. And she didn't mind personally taking his calls. However, since he was currently acting unreasonable, and because Miranda was tired of deleting his voicemail messages, she told Emily to cancel everything on her schedule that afternoon, and she finally returned one of Alain's many phone calls.

The last time she had sat down and had a meal with Alain, he had informed her that he had asked Rayne to marry him. It hadn't been a particularly enjoyable meal for her, but she had sat through it and listened to him go on about how he needed her help with the girls. She had given in then with little protest just as she was giving in now and finally meeting him in person. She was not completely unreasonable.

Alain sat down across from her and immediately laid out his demands. He wanted the girls for the rest of the summer. He wanted them all, including Miranda, to have a least one dinner with Rayne so as to "make a god damn effort". He wanted Miranda to support his relationship with Rayne. He wanted just so...many things. He wanted them, but he was in no position to demand them. His little plush toy had seen to that when she had proven to be as uselessly ignorant as Miranda had always suspected she was.

So, Miranda sat back in her chair after having finally removed her sunglasses and simply told Alain, "The girls have already made plans for this summer that do not include you. It is in your best interest you allow them to pursue their own agendas, and just because you enjoy Rayne's nauseating company doesn't mean others do. Unless the girls explicitly request it, there is no chance of me sitting down to share a meal with that child." She then turned away from Alain only to be met with Andrea and some girl being seated a few tables away. Alain was trying to say something, but she chose not to listen. Her attention stay focused on Andrea until the girl she was with stood up and started walking towards them. She saw Andrea try to stop the other girl, but she wasn't quick enough.

"Miranda, god damn it listen to me!" Alain viciously whispered, but still she ignored him. There was nothing he could say that would sway her opinion.

Soon enough, Andrea was standing in front of her and Miranda more than welcomed the company. The girl, Aquarius, offered Alain a reasonable diversion and allowed her to focus on Andrea instead of an argument she wanted to take no part in. She engaged Andrea in conversation about work and was sure to make no mention of the phone calls they had shared or the time spent in each other's company. Alain was thoroughly smitten with the young Aquarius, but he was still watching her. She could see his curiosity about Andrea written clearly in his eyes, making her very aware that she could make no mistake of showing any familiarity with Andrea beyond their professional ties.

Perhaps once she leaned in too close to Andrea. Perhaps once Andrea leaned in too close to her, but Miranda knew Alain had missed it because Aquarius hadn't, and Miranda knew she hadn't because the silly bit of a girl winked at her. Miranda knew nothing about Aquarius, except for what Andrea had mentioned in passing, and she didn't really care to know anything about her, but she could see that Aquarius clearly had talents that could be put to her use. That's why she had offered her a job.

When Alain left, he promised Miranda that he would give her a call and Miranda knew that he probably would, but eventually he would give up. He would realize that she wasn't going to give in, not when giving in meant that she had to tell the girls that their father had bested her again. She had given Alain his chance, and he had failed miserably. Miranda hardly ever offered second chances, and Alain should have known better than to expect one.

"Do you want to...talk about what was going on with your ex-husband?"

Miranda didn't know why, but she had allowed Andrea to leave with her. They were sitting in her town car, headed towards her home and Andrea had apparently grown tired of the silence. "Of course not, Andrea." Miranda never wanted to talk about anything. Talking had never made her feel better. More often than not, it made her feel like a villain, like the one who was always doing the wrong instead of being wronged. That was exactly how Alain had approached their conversation earlier, and he had even managed to walk away like he was the victim while she had been the one to cancel her entire afternoon so that he could yell at her.

"Okay...then what do you have planned for Aquarius?"

Miranda turned away from her window. "I'm in need of a new second assistant."

Andrea smiled. "Still?"

"Don't act so smug, Andrea." Miranda held back her smirk. "I'm often in need of a new assistant."

Andrea nodded. "Okay, but Aquarius is still in school. I don't think she'd want the job."

Miranda waved away Andrea's information. "It'll be an internship, then."

Silence descended on them again, and Miranda was thankful for it. She really had no idea what made her agree to have Andrea tag along beside her. There was no point in it; they had nothing they needed to talk about. Any conversation that could have occurred between them had already been used up during their lunch. So, Miranda turned her attention back to her window and tried to concentrate on the images passing her by, but found that she couldn't look past Andrea's reflection. "Why are you here?"

"What?" Andrea sounded confused, but Miranda had expected her to be. She hadn't even really meant to ask the question, but she couldn't quite help herself. It had been a long week, and as Miranda thought of all the things she had accomplished and all the things she still needed to take care of she realized that Andrea had been in her office on Monday, then she had returned on Tuesday, and she had been around, in some way or another, every day since. She had seen more of Andrea than she had her girls, and last night Andrea had said that they were friends. It was absurd. It was all just so...absurd.

"I'm here because..." Andrea began to answer even though Miranda hadn't yet repeated her question. She had intended to repeat it, change it a little so that it didn't sound so ridiculous. "I'm trying to be your friend."

Miranda slowly turned away from the window, but didn't dare look at Andrea. She looked straight ahead at the seat in front of her, and at Roy who was no doubt pretending like he had suddenly gone deaf. "Then, you've misunderstood my intent. My only interest lies in your talent as a journalist."

There was silence again, and Miranda basked in it. This conversation was hurling dangerously towards her being the villain again, and she didn't want to delve further into it. Andrea was hopefully smart enough to understand that it was important she clear up whatever misconceptions Andrea was beginning to allow herself to believe. They were not friends. They would not become friends. She would not talk to her about Alain, as Andrea had talked about Nate. She would not show up on Andrea's front door looking for a place that would conceal her from her horrific solitude. And by all means, she would not allow Andrea to look upon her as she slept, making sure her sleep wasn't too overwrought with nightmares.

She heard Andrea take in a shaky breath, but still refused to look over at her. "I..." Andrea took another breath. "I don't believe you."

"Well, Andrea, believe what you like." Miranda adjusted her sunglasses. Some days, she couldn't quite believe herself either. "It changes nothing."

"I think," Miranda heard Andrea swallow. "I think I should ask you again about Alain."

Miranda slowly turned to face Andrea. "What?"

Andrea was staring down at her hands, her left thumb running over the back of her right hand tracing the veins that seemed more prominent than before. "The men in your life make you act...differently."

What? "What on earth are you talking about?" This conversation had nothing to do with Alain or any other...man. This was about Andrea and her incessant need to invoke the word 'friend' as if it were the word of the day, and she was trying to brand it to memory before she forgot its meaning.

"They drain you." Andrea's thumb continued to trace the veins of her hand. "Nate did the same to me, at least while we were still living together and I was working for you."

"Roy," Miranda called to her driver before Andrea could say anything else. "Stop the car and then get out and return in exactly five minutes."

"Yes, Miranda." Roy answered, and then immediately found a place to double park.

As soon as he exited the vehicle Miranda removed her sunglasses. "Andrea, this conversation will go no further. Do you understand?"

Andrea looked up from her hands, and Miranda forced herself to not react to the tears she saw forming in the younger woman's eyes. "When I was around him, I always felt like something was wrong with me just because I was doing something with my life that I wanted to do. Every conversation turned into a fight I couldn't win, no matter what I said or did. I was always wrong and he was always right."

Miranda turned away from Andrea and then put her sunglasses back on. She had already said she was not going to continue this conversation, and she refused to repeat herself. She was not going to participate in this delusion Andrea was manufacturing.

"That time I walked in on you and Steven arguing, I saw a look on your face that I didn't understand, not then. But a few months and a few arguments later, I was looking in the mirror and I saw on my face the exact same expressions I had seen on yours."

Miranda wasn't quite sure what she should denounce first: Andrea's insinuation that their experiences were similar or the fact that Andrea had for some reason thought it was acceptable to move closer to her like they were sharing some intimate secret. "I think your mother must have digested a harmful chemical while she was pregnant with you."

"Do you remember the conversation we had the other night? The one where you refused to let me hang up the phone?"

She couldn't forget the conversation, especially since she was still living to regret it. "Of course I do, Andrea."

Andrea's hand shakily reached out, and Miranda looked at it as if it were an alien object creeping closer to her person. "Miranda." Her hand made contact with Miranda's. "You've already made the decision to answer my phone calls. You've decided to let me into your home. Don't back out now."

It was obvious that Andrea was on the verge of calling her a hypocrite, but that threat didn't mean much. Miranda already knew that she was a hypocrite. She didn't need to hear it from Andrea to know. "I'm not a good person, Andrea."

Andrea held tighter onto Miranda's hand. "I don't believe that."

Miranda laughed at how ludicrous this entire moment really was. "I'm keeping the girls away from Alain because his fiancée insulted me," she confessed as her laughter disintegrated. "I've allowed Nigel to take control of the December issue, not because he deserves it, but because I need time to focus on Men's Runway, a publication Irv considered handing over to Nigel, but I objected to because despite how many loyal years Nigel has worked for me, I wanted the opportunity for myself.

"Emily is still my first assistant because she does an adequate job, but once she's promoted she'll be stuck in middle management because she's too stupid to exceed much further, but I continue to string her along because she is still useful to me. Stephen is trying to evade the IRS because I turned over some of his more questionable investments and..." She reached down and grabbed onto the hand Andrea had attached to her own. "And I told you your article wouldn't be published despite it being very well written." She removed Andrea's hand, separating the contact she did not want to sustain. "So, Andrea, believe what you want, but the facts remain the same. I am selfish and at times petty and cruel for no discernible reason."

Roy opened the driver's door then. It had been five minutes.

"Roy," Andrea called out to him before he got fully back inside of the car. "Could you give us a couple more minutes, please."

Roy looked at Miranda and she felt inclined to not give him the permission he was seeking, but she gave it anyway. Andrea would get her minutes to get the inevitable yelling over with. Roy closed the car door once again, giving them what privacy they could get from backseat of a car, double parked on a busy New York street.

"Thank you," Andrea told her. "You didn't have to do that."

"Get on with it," Miranda ordered.

Once again, Andrea's hands were tentatively reaching out towards her and Miranda found she had nowhere to escape to. Andrea's hands reached up and she then removed Miranda's sunglasses. "I'm not going to defend anything you've done. I don't know how to do that."

Andrea's arms dropped, but her eyes kept their focus and Miranda felt the need to look away. In less than a week Andrea was managing to tear her apart by one absurd little conversation after another. "But I do know that you're a very methodical person. You don't do things without reason; sometimes the reason is convoluted, but you have your reasons, and when all is said and done, your decisions are usually the right ones."

Miranda closed her eyes. "I don't want this, Andrea."

A warm hand came to rest on her cheek. "This is why you decided it was time for me to leave Runway, isn't it? You didn't want me around anymore, not after what I saw at the hotel that night."

Miranda kept her eyes closed. "Yes, partially."

"Okay," Andrea whispered, her hand still resting on Miranda's cheek. "So here's the thing, you've sort of become my anchor in life right now. I'm not sure how it happened, but it did and that's just the way things are. So, we're going to be friends because I'm crazy enough to think that we both need each other. That's got to be the reason why I ended up standing in your office instead of standing outside of Auto Universe."

Miranda's eyes fluttered open. "You are very much like a viral infection, Andrea."

Andrea laughed, and she finally let her hand drop away from Miranda's face. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Miranda shook her head, but grinned nonetheless. "You would." She reached out and grabbed her sunglasses out of Andrea's grip and then put them back on just as Roy was once again opening the driver's side door.

Andrea moved away from Miranda, her hands safely within her own space. "So," she said with a smile, "do you want to tell me what's going on with your ex-husband?"

Miranda couldn't stop herself from laughing. She should have seen the question coming. "I thought you'd prefer to talk about your writing."

Andrea shrugged. "If we talk about my writing, then you might ask me what I'm working on and I'd be forced to confess that I'm not working on anything else yet."

"And why aren't you working on something else?" Miranda controlled her tone, forcing herself to infuse more criticism than she actually felt. Roy was listening to their conversation once more, and she was very mindful of his presence. "You'll need something else to give to Keyshia."

Andrea sighed. "I know, and I am working on something."

Miranda didn't respond, and the car fell into silence once more. Part of Miranda was waiting for Andrea to break it with another one of her personal questions, but she remained quiet. She didn't try to bring up Alain again and didn't mention anything else Miranda had so readily confessed in her effort to turn Andrea away. That had been the closest Miranda had come to an emotional outburst in a long time. She wasn't quite sure why she had even let the conversation go that far.
She shouldn't have told Roy to stop the car. She shouldn't have let Andrea reach up to remove her sunglasses. She shouldn't have let Andrea get in the car with her in the first place, shouldn't have let Andrea and Aquarius join her and Alain for lunch. The list of things she should have stopped herself from doing while in Andrea's presence was growing almost exponentially and Miranda was beginning to think that there was no way she could stop it, and she was starting to wonder if she even should.

Whatever dysfunctional association that was forming between her and Andrea had been forming for a while. Miranda had already mounted her offense and it hadn't worked. Andrea came back and for whatever reason, Andrea just wasn't willing to let go. And, truthfully, Miranda wasn't completely prepared to let her go. It wasn't everyday she could have a conversation with someone and not end up feeling like the villain.

Miranda once again, focused her attention on the man sitting in front of her. She looked into the rear-view mirror and saw his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. Slowly, she slid her left hand across the seat until she made contact with Andrea's.

Andrea jumped, but she didn't yell out. Her eyes jumped down to her hand and she seemed uncertain about what was happening, but she didn't say anything, didn't ask Miranda to explain herself.

Miranda curled her fingers around Andrea's, trying to remember the last time she had held another adult's hand. She couldn't recall the memory, but refused to dwell on its absence. "Thank you," she softly whispered so that Roy wouldn't overhear her.

Andrea nodded, but still said nothing.

Miranda kept her hold on Andrea's hand, and she knew that she had just officially given in.

Idle Lies
Chapter 18

Andy followed Miranda into her home, still trying to figure out exactly what brand of crazy had taken over her body in the car. All she could clearly remember was Miranda telling her that she was essentially ending whatever relationship that had been developing between them, and then Andy just freaked out. Her hands had begun to shake and she could feel her breathing become erratic. She felt like she was falling into the merciless throes of a panic attack, and right when everything was getting ready to fade to black, she was talking to Miranda about her relationship with Nate, was removing Miranda's sunglasses and was refusing to let Miranda cast her aside.

Roy had probably thought that she was extremely brave or supremely idiotic, most anyone knowing Miranda probably would have thought that Andy had finally snapped, and Andy didn't think that they would have been wrong to think that. She had snapped, had completely lost it. Her words had been fueled by her desperation, because Andy knew that if she let Miranda get rid of her again, then she wouldn't have the strength to come back. That would have been the end, and she'd be forced to move to some developing nation so that she could escape Miranda's overpowering ability to draw her back in.

Even now, as she walked into Miranda's home she was still riding out the pendulous emotions Miranda had evoked. Andy couldn't completely calm herself, not while Miranda did spontaneous things like reach out to hold her hand for no obvious reason.

Andy watched as Miranda locked the front door behind them. When she turned back around, her eyes traveled over Andy's body. "I need a drink," she muttered.

Andy looked down at herself, not quite sure what on her body had provoked Miranda to seek out alcohol. She was wearing the True Religion jeans she had gotten from a clothes resale shop a few blocks from her apartment and a red crew cut t-shirt that was the only clean item of clothing she currently owned. Andy knew her appearance didn't meet Miranda's standards, but then again she sort of got the feeling that Miranda hadn't been looking at her clothes. "I'll take one, too." She said and then followed Miranda to the small bar that occupied the sitting room.

She watched as Miranda methodically poured out two vodka tonics, and was glad when she finally had the glass in her hand. The crazy haze that had been sustaining her bravery was wearing off and with its absence she was starting to feel more insecure and was starting to wonder exactly why she had followed Miranda home like a doe-eyed puppy who just didn't know any better. Andy couldn't help but laugh at herself. Miranda had fed her, and now she was following Miranda home. Apparently it was true what people said about strays.

"What's so humorous, Andrea?" Miranda was looking down at her near empty glass.

Andy looked down at her own glass, realizing that as glad as she was for the alcohol, she hadn't yet taken a sip of it. "My life is funny...humorous," she softly laughed again. "It doesn't make sense." She found the nearest tabletop and then laid her drink down. "You held my hand in the car," she accused but made sure she wasn't looking at Miranda when she said it.

She could hear Miranda divvying up another vodka tonic. "Do you absolutely want to talk about this?"

Andy shook her head as she slowly turned around. "No," she honestly answered. "I don't." She moved to the nearest chair and then sat down. "So instead, tell me about Alain."

Miranda finished making her drink. "Okay."

Andy's eyes widened. "Okay?" Miranda wasn't supposed to say that. She was supposed to refuse, and then guide the conversation to another subject matter that didn't have anything to do about ex lovers or spontaneous bouts of human contact.

"Okay," Miranda said again as she sat down across from Andy.

"You don't have to..."

"I am well aware I don't have to," Miranda interrupted, "but this is the fourth time you've mentioned him."

Had it been the fourth? Andy couldn't remember. She wasn't even sure why she had insisted on asking in the first place. She didn't know why she thought to tell Miranda that her ex husbands tended to make her act differently. She knew it wasn't a good idea to point out Miranda's weaknesses. Miranda didn't seem like the type to appreciate being told she was fallible, and that the fallibility had been noticed. "I guess I just figure that if I get a chance to know more about them, then it'll give me a chance to know more about you."

"You're being entirely too honest, Andrea," Miranda said, her tone even and calm making Andy feel even more unstable.

She didn't think she suffered from committing excessive honesty, especially since she'd been living in a state of half truth since she had left Runway. She had never been completely honest with Nate, her parents, her friends, her self. Nate had gone back to Boston not knowing that if he had bothered to propose a week ago she would have said yes even though it would have been a mistake. Her parents had gone back to Ohio not knowing that she had re-associated herself with Miranda. Her friends had thought that they actually knew her, and Lily was just now acknowledging the fact that Andy wasn't the same person she remembered. Even now, Andy was lying to herself as she kept on telling Miranda she was trying to be her friend. She didn't want to be Miranda's friend, not really.

Andy had already learned that she couldn't be friends with someone she was secretly in love with. She couldn't be around them and act like being their friend was enough. Maybe she wasn't mature enough to handle it, and maybe she would never be, but she knew that if she continued to actively seek out Miranda's friendship, that eventually it wouldn't be enough. Instead of reaching out to touch Miranda's cheek, she'd end up reaching out to kiss Miranda's lips. Instead of accepting Miranda holding her hand, she'd end up demanding Miranda slip an arm around her waist.

Yet, despite knowing all this, she still needed Miranda to believe they could be friends. "I know I am," she lied. "But I can't help it. It's the impulsive...thing, I guess." It wasn't impulsive to want to know about the person who had become an obsession. Andy knew she was beginning to mold her life around getting small scraps of knowledge about Miranda that she knew Miranda didn't release to just anyone. She wanted to see the parts of Miranda that Alain, at one time, had the privilege to see. Because really, Andy asked herself, who was Miranda underneath the glamor? And could that Miranda love her?

Again, Miranda's eyes roamed over Andy's body, and Andy tried her best to look wide-eyed and innocently naïve. When Miranda turned away, she took another sip of her vodka tonic, and settled her attention on the wall behind Andy's head. "Alain is a...estimable man, Andrea. He was fantastically supportive when I started furthering my career, and was one of the few individuals in my life that helped propel me to my current success, without me having to step over them first."

"So..." Andy blindly reached out for her own glass. She didn't really want to hear about how great of a person Alain was, especially when she was so ready to gouge his eyes out because Miranda had given him her love. "What happened?"

"What happened." Miranda's eyes dropped down. "His ego, or perhaps it was mine." Her head lifted and she released a short sigh. "Either way, we found that we were no longer compatible and the marriage was over."

"You make it sound so simplistic." Andy's voice was strained. Miranda's words had made her think of Nate, made her remember how much she suddenly missed his presence in her life. He had been a constant for so long, and now it was over. He was gone, and now she was sitting with Miranda coming undone over something as juvenile as holding hands.

Miranda sought out and then met Andy's gaze. "It is simplistic, Andrea. Actions are always simplistic. It's the emotions that make everything complicated."

Cold hard logic-Andy could at least always rely on Miranda to provide her with that. "So, why were you meeting with Alain today?"

"I've already answered that," Miranda responded as she stood up. "Did you want another drink?"

Andy looked down at the cold glass she was holding in her hands. It had suddenly become a lot more barren than she remembered it being. "Yes." She offered Miranda her empty glass. "Thank you." She followed Miranda's movements, trying to remember exactly what Miranda had said about Alain in the car. She said that his fiancee had insulted her. She said she was keeping the girls from him.

Before she could wrap her mind completely around everything Miranda had rapidly confessed to, not even a full hour ago, Miranda was handing her back her glass and sitting back down. "I don't believe that you'd keep Caroline and Cassidy away from their father just because his fiancee insulted you," Andy told Miranda.

"And what makes you believe that?"

"Because I remember sitting at your breakfast table." Andy ran her finger along the rim of her glass. "I might not have been at my best then," she laughed self-deprecatingly, "but I think I'll always remember my first breakfast with you and your girls."

A small smirk made an appearance across Miranda's features. "Ah, yes. Caroline told me, 'no'."

Andy smiled. "Yeah, I think that's the first time I've ever heard anyone say that to you."

"I can assure you that it doesn't happen often, but..." Miranda leaned back and then kicked off her stilettos, "the girls are getting older and determinedly more defiant." She curled her legs up under her, looking more relaxed than Andy had ever seen her before. She suspected that the alcohol was starting to grab hold of Miranda, making her less defensive and more talkative.

"I was horrible to my parents when I was a teenager," Andy confessed. "They worked so hard to give me a quiet, normal life and I did everything to change that."

Miranda leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "I'm not terribly surprised by that. You've always seemed intent on causing me problems."

"How?" Andy asked, trying to not be offended by Miranda's accusation. Her entire job as Miranda's assistant had consisted of doing her very best to make Miranda's life easier. She solved Miranda's problems before Miranda even knew that she had them. She had always been up before dawn to make sure that everything was ready for Miranda before she walked into the office. She went to bed often well past one in the morning most nights working on whatever last minute project the girls had needed to turn in for school, or Miranda had needed done. She had hardly ever got a chance to sleep or eat, and still Miranda thought that Andy caused problems?

Miranda's eyes opened. "You really don't know, do you?"

Andy felt like there was so much she didn't know, it was hard for her to try and grasp onto the specific thing Miranda was talking about. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her head dipping towards the ground. "I um...I don't know what you're talking about," she softly admitted.

"You're quite self-centered, Andrea, you realize that." Miranda's conversational tone sent another wave of righteous anger through Andy's body. The most self-centered person Andy had ever met was calling her self-centered?

Andy decided she didn't like Miranda after imbibing alcohol. "I should probably leave," she laid her glass on the coffee table in front of her. "I have some writing to do."

"If you walk away now," Miranda warned as Andy began to stand up, "I'll never let you into my home again." She suddenly sounded very sober, although Andy could tell by the slightly glassy look in Miranda's eyes that she wasn't.

Andy sat back down, reached for her drink, and then gulped down what was left in the glass. "Can I get up to make myself another drink?" She held up her empty glass.

"You may."

Andy nodded as she got up. She made sure to grab Miranda's glass, quickly deciding that perhaps she should just give in and get as drunk as possible so that she could make all the emotion she had building up inside of her disappear. She assumed that the girls weren't home, and if Miranda was going to drink herself into oblivion then Andy was going to join her. "So, why am I self-centered?" She asked as she poured the Grey Goose into their glasses.

Miranda laughed. "There are times, Andrea, when you really do remind me of myself." She laughed again. "And in case you're curious, no; that wasn't meant as a compliment."

Andy turned around to face Miranda. "I think you're drunk."

Miranda's eyes once again, closed. "Not yet I'm not."

"You just insulted yourself." Andy picked up the drinks she had just made and then walked back over to Miranda. "I'd say you're drunk."

"I often insult myself," Miranda's head fell into her waiting hands. "I just never do it loud enough for other's to overhear."

Andy set the glasses down, and now that the vodka was running through her veins, she fell on bended knee in front of Miranda. "You're being entirely too honest, Miranda." Andy said, thinking that perhaps using the same words as Miranda had used on her would sober Miranda up just a little.

Miranda slowly raised her head. "Everyone thought I was crazy for hiring you, and they thought I was crazy for letting you go unscathed. I've protected you, Andrea, even when it wasn't in my best interest to do so. You've always been too self-absorbed to realize it, always too preoccupied with your personal dramas to see beyond your own misery. Have you realized yet, why you couldn't be happy working at The New York Mirror?"

Andy's immediate response was to say that she realized she had been unhappy there because a void had been created in her life and the only person she knew that could fill it was Miranda. But she suspected that wasn't the answer Miranda wanted to hear. "I was bored," she said instead.

"No," Miranda replied as she stood up.

"Okay." Andy stood up as well. "Then why?"

Miranda picked up one of the drinks Andy had made. "You couldn't be happy, because I already made you better than that place." She greedily drank from her glass. "I had already taught you more than the Mirror ever could."

Miranda had taught her? No. Miranda had demanded and somehow Andy had figured out how to swim instead of giving in and drowning. But, Miranda had given her the chance to swim in the first place. "Why do you want to talk about this, Miranda?" She didn't want to deal with this. It was becoming too much, and she knew that if she didn't leave then she would do something or say something that she couldn't take back, but Miranda wasn't going to let her walk away. Miranda always made her stay and deal with where her impulsiveness got her.

Miranda looked suddenly lost. "I don't know." She had finished her drink. "Perhaps, you should leave." She turned away and Andy got the reprieve she was looking for, but she wasn't at all thankful for it. Miranda was shutting her out again, and Andy was discovering that her endurance to fight her way back in no longer existed, and in its absence all she could feel was the raw marks of emotions that Miranda always made her feel.

"If you kick me out," Andy stepped closer to Miranda, "then I'm never coming back." It was a lie, but it was the only threat Andy had. She couldn't hurt Miranda like Miranda could hurt her. Andy knew she didn't have that kind of power over the other woman. All Andy had were idle threats.

Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Don't challenge me, Andrea. You'll lose."

"Well," Andy threw her hands helplessly up in the air, "I already feel like I'm losing. I don't even know how this conversation even started." Her body was on fire and she let her anger give her the strength she needed to stay. She took another step closer to Miranda. "You're acting like I suddenly disgust you."

Miranda's hands went to her hips. "You do."

Andy didn't know Miranda well enough to know what to do or how to respond. It wasn't every day someone told her that they were disgusted by her. "Why?" She choked on the word, but she needed to ask it before she left.

"Because," Miranda's right hand ran up from her waist to the base of her neck, "Andrea, you're breaking me."

Andy had only ever seen Miranda cry once, and she remembered that night very well because it had been the last one she had spent with Miranda. Finally, Miranda had been showing that she was human and Andy felt compelled to defend her against Christian because of it. She never thought she would ever see Miranda cry again, and she never thought she'd see Miranda crying because of her. "I won't let you fall apart." She reached out for Miranda, placing her hand on the exact spot Miranda's right hand had vacated.

Miranda looked down at Andy's hand but didn't remove it. "You should leave."

"I know," Andy whispered before she leaned forward and in her final act of desperation kissed Miranda. She felt Miranda stiffen in her grasp, but she wouldn't let Miranda pull away. The alcohol she had so readily consumed was giving her baser instinct a free pass, and she couldn't force herself to rein it back in. Miranda tasted like Grey Goose and lime, and her lips were soft, and since she knew she was already making the biggest mistake of her life, Andy held on and wouldn't let go of the suicidal moment.

Miranda's lips started to move against hers and Andy didn't think as she pushed the kiss further. Her tongue slid over Miranda's lips and she groaned as Miranda's mouth slid open. When Andy finally pulled away, both her hands were on Miranda's hips, teetering on the edge of exploring the curves underneath her fingertips. And since she knew she would never have a chance at this again, Andy let her hands wander, and she again covered Miranda's mouth with her own.

She felt Miranda's hands on her body, but she ignored them because she knew they were probably going to make her stop. So, she kept on. Her hands slid under Miranda's blouse, and when they didn't have enough room to maneuver she tore the blouse open. She knew every decision she made was bringing her closer and closer to ultimate disaster, but she wasn't going to stop because then she'd have to deal with the eventual consequences. So, she kept on. She kept on exploring Miranda's body; she kept on running her mouth over Miranda's skin. She kept on until she was leaning over Miranda, somehow having found a solid surface to support them, and was plunging her fingers into Miranda's center, the smell of sex permeating the air around them. And as she felt Miranda's inner walls contracting against her fingers, she finally stopped and looked down into Miranda's eyes.

That's when she realized her mistake. They had both been too drunk to fuck.

To be continued