~ Incomprehensible Desire: ~
by Eveh

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada.
Rating: PG - 13
Summary: Miranda let Andrea go.
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Part 2

Impulse

There are an odd bunch of physical technicalities that merge together to produce realization. Technicalities Andrea Sachs would never bother to learn and cared very little to learn. Ironically, as an individual who made a living asking 'why' she did not often inquire as to the reasoning behind the actions in her own life. She lived off of equal parts adrenaline and equal parts of caffeine. Life was supposed to be spontaneous and no decision was to be made after careful consideration. Decisions were made based on what felt right in the moment. Anything left to be decided after making a list of pros and cons lead to things like her trying to become a lawyer to satisfy her family's will.

That's the only reason why Andrea had ever taken the job offered to her at Runway. It had also been the only reason why she had left it. She thought little of the consequences that might befall on her and thought even less of the circumstances in which she left. Her youthful self-righteousness carried her through any of her doubts, and accompanied her through the arduous task of apologizing to friends who she had isolated and who in turn had isolated her, starting up a new job at the bottom of the ladder, and actively pretending that ultimately she was the same person she had been before Miranda Priestly had changed her forever.

It was a late night at the New York Mirror and Andrea had gotten a case of writer's block while writing an article on a subject matter she ultimately cared very little about. Her mind had begun to wander and somehow the wandering had lead her to an entertainment news website that headlined the fall of Miranda Priestly's newest ex-husband. He would leave the marriage with nothing, and was for some reason being investigated on suspicions of embezzlement. His personal and professional life were in the last stages of effective ruin.

Andy stared at the picture of Miranda featured on the site, looking absolutely glorious from her recent victory, and suddenly all those technicalities that Andrea never bothered to learn came together. No one walked away from Miranda Priestly?she let you go or she buried you alive. There was no such thing as rejecting her and being left to stand unless Miranda Priestly willed it.

"Holy Hell," Andy muttered under her breath. "Holy Hell."

Miranda had let her go.

Her unfinished article forgotten, Andy gathered up her notes and shoved them into her laptop case. Her laptop quickly followed her notes, and then she was on her feet and hurrying out onto the busy streets of New York City. She maneuvered her way around the people and maneuvered her way around the city until she was standing on Miranda Priestly's doorstep.

Impulse had shoved her towards the one person who had managed to get her interested in fashion beyond the newest offerings at Old Navy, the one person who had driven Andy to become someone who went beyond getting a job done, towards having the ability to conquer a job. It was a subtle difference to many, but it was the most important lesson Andy could ever recall being granted.

She was after the Mirror's editor's job. She would take what lessons she could from him, but she would eventually take his throne or move on to another opportunity where she could further her own goals and satiate her own ambition. Miranda had shown her that she did not need to grow the thorns Miranda had, but she did need to have an escape strategy so that she did not drown at the bottom of the sea of mediocre talent.

Andy rang Miranda's doorbell and was not at all surprised when Miranda answered her own front door, looking as untouchably perfect as ever.

"I never asked you for your help," she calmly told her former employer. "I never asked for you to let me go."

"Silly girl," Miranda's cold blue eyes devoured the bit of flesh that had the audacity to come in the middle of night to her home.

Impulse thrust Andrea forward into the face of Miranda's mocking countenance. It forced her mouth to convey words despite having convinced herself over, and over, and over again that she hated Miranda Priestly. "I'm a big girl, Miranda. I can make my own mistakes."

"That's glaringly obvious." Miranda took a step away from the door. It wasn't a retreat from Andrea's willful invasion of her space. Miranda never retreated. "I, however, fail to see why you are prostrating yourself on my doorstep."

Impulse. "You let me go."

"No," Miranda's fingers curled into a fist. "You left all on your own."

"But you let me go."

Miranda had no problems with lying and Andy had no problems with being lied to. Lies made things easier, transformed the complicated into reasonably uncomplicated affairs, but Miranda would not lie to a silly, willful girl as if she were threatened by Andrea's impulse. "I will devour you until there is nothing left."

She would take Andrea's youth, her ambition, her guilelessness, her everything. She would claim it as her own and would leave no room for Andrea to abscond. Miranda only knew how to possess, she had never and had no intention of ever being possessed.

"I won't let you."

"Silly girl."

Andy knew that Miranda was right. She knew that her youth was making an unfashionable appearance doing its best to make her look 'silly', but she would not back away. Instinct pushed her fears of being insane away. "I want you to rehire me, but I don't want to be your assistant."

Miranda's eyes widened. "You want what?"

A better opportunity was in front of her now, Andrea realized. She didn't need the Mirror or the editor position there, when she had Miranda standing in front of her concerned with her welfare. "Find me a place where I can write. I'm done fetching coffee."

"Clearly, Andrea, you have mistakenly come to my home drunk." Andrea suspected that it had never occurred to Miranda that they would ever be standing in front of each other again. Andrea guessed that Miranda had just figured she would walk away and never care to return. She figured that Miranda never thought she would have developed insight.

"I'll report to you Monday morning." Before Miranda could respond Andy hurried away from Miranda's home. If she stayed for too long then Miranda would have her way again and Andy would be relegated to staying at the Mirror. She had been fooled before by the cunning editor. Miranda had effortlessly convinced Andy that she walked away from Runway on her own terms, when that was in actuality far from the truth.

In all its technicalities, realization was exceedingly simple. Andy would not let Miranda beat her. She couldn't fathom what Miranda's motivations had been for letting her go, and Andy had not yet found it within herself to care. Miranda owed her a lot more than offering her pity. She owed her a lot more than a false goodbye.


Continued



Eveh's Scrolls
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