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Andy was brimming with anticipation in her seat, tapping her fingers in an errant rhythm against her leather notebook, her eyes flitting from Miranda to the clock mounted on the wall. Normally, she would have her attention completely focused on Miranda, but after that series of messages where the editor admitted that she had thoroughly enjoyed making Andy work hard to get that date with her, it had driven Andy to distraction and made her mad with want. They had been dancing endlessly around each other, flirting here and there, touching each other when they shouldn’t, and yet nothing happened for months. If she were being honest, she’d readily admit that this attraction has been ongoing for twenty years, so Andy had decided to gamble everything in this series. It’s not every season where your home team gets to be in the finals, and she just upped the ante by letting it decide the course of her love life, or lack thereof.
Her breath hitched when her wandering gaze landed squarely on Miranda, who was watching her instead of looking at the presentation in front of her. Andy gulped as the corner of Miranda’s lips twitched to form into a smirk that rendered her frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
Soon after Miranda dismissed the meeting, Andy scrambled to get out of the room with all her stuff intact, then she hurriedly shoved them all in her bag as soon as she crossed the threshold of her office.
“Andrea.”
Andy looked up, hands stilling as she met Miranda’s piercing blue gaze. She tilted her head in question, knowing that there was literally nothing else scheduled for the remainder of the day, and that she had to leave, like leave right now at exactly the next minute, if she didn’t want to get caught up in the traffic leading to Madison Square Garden. Most importantly, she had to burn some sage and kick the bad vibes away to ensure the last and final 25% that would get her laid – er, a date with Miranda.
Miranda simply held out her hand, holding two familiar tickets between her fingers, then she waved it over a stunned Andy, who was having all sorts of realizations as the seconds ticked by.
“By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills –”
Before Miranda could even finish her sentence, she was already being pulled over to the elevator by her features editor, who resembled an overly excited golden retriever.
They rode the elevator in comfortable silence. There was a huge grin on Andy’s face, and that probably freaked out some of the people who saw them inside when the elevator stopped on some floors, because who in their right mind would have a smile plastered on their face as they ride the elevator side by side with Miranda Priestly? Only one Andy Sachs, apparently.
The elevator dinged when they reached the ground floor, and as soon as it opened, Andy was already walking ahead with Miranda in tow behind her. It was a bizarre image that they’d painted, but everyone in the lobby still gave them a wide berth, which Andy appreciated as she made a beeline to the S-Class parked right outside.
“Hey, Roy,” Andy greeted Miranda’s longtime driver and her friend with a huge grin. She even got ahead of him and opened the door for Miranda, depositing the editor inside in a gentle manner that clashed with the excitement she was barely able to contain. Then she went around the back in quick steps, opened the door to her side, and slid right into her spot at Miranda’s left.
The ride to Madison Square Garden was filled with incessant chatter from Andy and Roy as they discussed statistics and predictions for today’s game. Surprisingly, Miranda didn’t stop them, but she did let out a hum when Andy’s hand found hers and threaded their fingers together.
Miranda was currently pressing her thumb on the pulse point of Andy’s wrist when she asked, “Are you not going to go around like an Etsy Witch? There’s still some time before the game starts.”
“I don’t need to,” Andy declared, squeezing Miranda’s hand in hers, which was returned with a squeeze from the editor. “I have my lucky charm right here.” She brought their joined hands up in the air and pressed her lips firmly on the back of Miranda’s palm.
Miranda rolled her eyes, but Andy observed with delight as her words and actions caused the woman’s ears to redden. “Suit yourself.”
Roy dropped them off at a secluded entrance that Andy assumed the celebrities who came to watch the game also used. She patiently waited for Miranda to finish giving her instructions before taking her hand again. This time, it was Miranda leading the way, and Andy was silent as she took in the unfamiliar hallways because she had never been on this floor before. When she had watched the game before, her seat was on the upper floors, and she used the entrance that the general public used.
Her jaw went slack when she realized that they were being led towards the court.
“Miranda–”
“You have a little something here,” Miranda said in a calm tone tempered with mischief as she pointed to the corner of her own mouth, which prompted Andy to raise her free hand to check on the same spot in hers and found it bereft of anything. Her eyes narrowed as she realized that Miranda played her. “Don’t drool, Andrea. It’s just courtside seats.”
“Just courtside – Miranda, do you know how insane that sounds?”
“Surely, it’s not as insane as leaving your fate in the hands of sweaty men passing around a ball or taking home an entertainment news reporter’s microphone?”
“Hey, that was one time,” Andy grumbled, arms crossing defensively over her chest, then she leaned in. “I bet you just wanted a front row seat when I finally got that last 25%. So where’s our date going to be? I know I promised you Italian, but I can cook for you instead, or you can just have me?”
Miranda shook her head in amusement. “Your unchecked confidence will be your downfall, Andrea.”
“You say that, but you do love every single time I’ve proven that my confidence wasn’t unwarranted,” Andy muttered in a low register as she stepped closer to Miranda, their bodies touching, breaths mingling in the small distance between them.
Miranda broke the trance they were in as she sat with the grace of a swan, crossing her legs, then placing her hand on her lap before tugging on Andy’s to join her, to which she complied with no hesitation. She found herself seated on Miranda’s left as usual, but she did pout for five minutes when Miranda let go of her hand as she busied herself with exchanging her glasses for her shades, then typing something on her phone.
The stadium began to fill out, and the atmosphere was charged with anticipation and tension from both sides. Some people stopped by their seats to greet Miranda, to which she only responded with a nod and a small, polite smile before turning her attention to Andy to show something on her phone. Andy had to bite her lip when she saw that the thing Miranda wanted her to see was just a cute photo of Gio sleeping on the new bed they bought during their weekends spent together. Then she realized Miranda was actually using her as a shield so people would stop approaching her, so Andy scooted closer to Miranda, placing an arm around her and letting it rest on her chair before leaning in closer.
“You know, there are other ways where you could use me,” Andy whispered in her ear. It took everything in her to resist taking in the reddening earlobe in her mouth and biting and tugging on it.
“Behave,” Miranda muttered as she reached over Andy’s left hand, holding it in hers and placing their joined hands on her lap.
It was insane. The position they were in was so intimate that it made Andy forget where they were at the moment.
Anyone who could see them now would assume that they were in a relationship, and maybe that’s okay since that’s Andy’s end goal, but it didn’t stop her from glaring when she saw a camera flash at them. She was still overly protective of Miranda, and there was that disdain for the paparazzi that would never disappear, even if they were going to provide the future wallpapers for her phone in the next few days.
Still too busy sending death glares and glowering at the invasion of their privacy, Andy missed the first time Miranda pressed her lips lightly to her cheek. She did a double-take at first, and only became more confused as to which Miranda chuckled at before kissing her again, but this time it was right at the corner of her mouth, and if she had only turned her head a bit, then that kiss would’ve landed squarely on her lips.
“Miranda, what – why?”
“I don’t like sharing.”
Andy felt her mouth go dry, then she shook her head, still bewildered from the sudden display of affection Miranda showed. It boosted her confidence to press her own lips against Miranda’s temple; she smiled when she felt Miranda lean into her.
Very much like a fool in love, Andy spent the last peaceful moments pressing kisses on Miranda’s face and nuzzling her nose in soft, silvery white locks.
It didn’t take long for the game to start. Andy smiled as she placed one last lingering kiss on Miranda’s temple before disentangling herself from the editor. She slipped on her shades over her eyes and watched the players gather around the referee holding the ball for the tip-off.
The shrill sound the whistle let out was immediately drowned by the shouts and hollers of the crowd, which only grew louder as the Knicks took possession of the ball. Andy was among the crowd that enthusiastically cheered and stomped their feet.
At one point, Andy was on her feet, whooping and pumping her hands up in the air as the Knicks took the lead once more, with the crowd chanting, “Jalen Brunson sank another three! The Knicks are in the lead!”
Andy felt a familiar touch land on her wrist, then the lithe fingers she’d often dreamt of in the depths of the night encircled her wrist. She let herself be pulled back to her seat under Miranda’s gentle guidance. She looked at Miranda, completely enthralled by the curious tilt of her head, and Andy responded with a grin, knowing that Miranda’s eyes were crinkled with amusement.
With a small nod from Miranda, Andy finally breaks their shared moment and turns her attention back to the game. Neither of them noticed that Miranda hadn’t let go of Andy’s hand, nor did she even try to move it away; both of them were quite content with the position they had ended up in.
As the game grew more intense, Andy found herself leaning forward; her arm was placed right in front of Miranda, acting like a shield just in case a wayward ball came their way or a player from the other team decided to act stupid and trip themselves on purpose. Her hand was resting on top of Miranda’s knee, which she would grip tightly whenever the game was in their favor or when her favorite player scored.
“OG!!!” Andy shouted at the top of her lungs as the player successfully got past the opposing team’s defense and landed a layup.
Or in such cases, where she would almost act out the murderous intent to throttle the referee for an uncalled foul or an unjust ruling.
“Are you fucking blind, ref?! That’s clearly a flagrant foul!”
Her whole body was fraught with tension, brows furrowed in annoyance, but her body went still when a hand landed on top of hers, lacing their fingers together while Miranda’s thumb traced patterns over the back of her hand. Andy inhaled sharply when she felt Miranda’s other hand clutching her arm, fingers pressing on her bicep with enough pressure to get her attention. Then Miranda tugged while Andy willingly scooted closer to her.
“Andrea, pull yourself together,” Miranda whispered in that low register of her voice that sent shivers down her spine.
Andy gulped audibly, knots twisting in her stomach as Miranda grounded her once again.
“What was it you said with confidence in the car?”
Andy racked her brain; images of their interaction during the car ride vividly flashed in her mind. Then it clicked.
“I have my lucky charm right here,” Andy said, quite breathless as she repeated the same words. “You’re my lucky charm.”
“Then stop worrying,” Miranda said in a tone filled with such finality, and Andy resonated with it. It was reassuring to hear; it gave her the same comfort Miranda’s touch had been providing ever since they sat together in proximity.
“Yes, Miranda.”
They both turned their heads back to the pandemonium in front of them, dread settling in as they took in the harrowing fact that there was a huge gap between the two teams and that the Knicks were the team that needed to catch up.
The second half began with a run-and-gun from the Knicks. The strategy sets the tempo of the third quarter, and while they were scoring multiple baskets, there’s still a gap to close. It soon ended with a seventeen-point gap.
With the final quarter about to begin, the atmosphere of the stadium changed from having an explosive collection of high-strung emotions to a pin-drop silence right before the sound of a shrill whistle. Andy watched from the corner of her eye as Miranda leaned forward, her shoulder tensing for the first time that night, and she couldn’t help but squeeze the knee beneath her hand, to which Miranda responded by gripping her hand tighter.
Andy sighed as a different kind of anticipation settled within her, whatever happens in the next ten minutes would be life changing; Andy decided right there and then that whatever the results are she would continue to pursue Miranda because goddamn it, imagining a life where she wouldn’t get to have Miranda like this was quite impossible now that she’s had a taste of what it feels like to have her in her arms, to be able to kiss her whenever she wanted amongst other things.
So yes, win or lose, she wouldn’t back down. Of course, it would be so much better if the Knicks won because she wouldn’t have Miranda doubting her belief that she’s Andy’s lucky charm. With her renewed determination, Andy turned her focus back for a final time to the game with a steely gaze.
They did it. They fucking did it. The Knicks were finally in the lead with only three minutes remaining, and that was the last straw for Andy. She spent the next two minutes on her feet, desperately shouting for them to keep it up, her heart sinking every time they came close to losing their hard-earned lead.
“Oh my fucking god, please don’t go into overtime,” she mumbled as the ball made a clean swoosh in the opponent’s ring. A timeout was called, but Andy was busy biting her fingers nervously to see who called it.
They were tied at a hundred and six points with only twelve seconds remaining. A lot can happen in twelve seconds. Twenty years ago, in Runway, twelve seconds was enough for her to hang Miranda’s coat and follow her to her office to brief her for the day's agenda.
“Breathe, Andrea.”
Miranda’s voice cut through the haze in her mind. Andy looked up, eyes widening at the sight of Miranda standing up beside her. “Let’s see this through till the end, shall we?”
It sounded like an instruction she needed to follow, but Andy only heard the reassurance that she was not alone in all of this. She was never alone in the feelings she had felt between them. Miranda has always been there with her, and she would still be.
It all happened too quickly for anyone, but now they were holding their breaths as the Knicks were awarded two free throws, with them being two points behind. 106-108. The crowd was silent at first, but when the ball went through the hoop with a clean swoosh, there were distinct cheers and boos from both sides.
107-108. Six precious seconds remaining.
The Knicks could make a free throw and push for overtime, but with everyone almost running out of fumes, it wasn’t an ideal option. Or they would risk it and purposely miss the free throw instead, so they could turn this into a three-point play and end the game.
Andy watched with bated breath as the blow flew in the air in slow motion. It didn’t enter the hoop in a clean swoosh this time; instead, it bounced off, and there was a flurry of colors colliding, and the ball was still in someone else’s hand until a layup was attempted. Only for it to bounce back, and just when all hope was lost with the seconds going down to two, a hand shot up to tip the ball back into the ring. It fell in effortlessly before the clock turned to zero.
The scoreboard changed to 109-108.
The Knicks won in five.
Andy was crying and spinning repeatedly on her feet when she realized that she was literally spinning with Miranda in her arms and up in the air. Somewhere in her excitement, she turned to Miranda to hug her and ended up picking her up.
When the realization caught up to her, she met Miranda’s bright blue eyes that were tinged with affection and exasperation as her shades slipped to her nose with all the unwanted spinning she had endured.
Andy gently put her back down to the ground, her hands found purchase at Miranda’s hips, steadying her, and just wanting to hold her close.
“Well?” Miranda tilted her head.
“Well, what?” Andy rasped. Her heart was drumming in her chest. She knew what Miranda was asking about, but she could feel her throat closing up as she opened her mouth and nothing else came out. She lowered her head, hiding from the woman she loved most.
Miranda took a step closer in her arms; there was hardly enough space between them, and Andy could feel her breath against her collarbone, goosebumps rising on her skin.
“Ask me, Andrea.”
Miranda’s hands came up to cup her cheek, making Andy look at her.
“Miranda Priestly,” Andy began, her voice shaking, but somehow looking at Miranda, who was waiting for her, bolstered her resolve. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“How juvenile,” Miranda chuckled, and only then did Andy realize that she had blurted out the question she was supposed to ask after their date, but before she could take it back, Miranda was pulling her down and leaning upwards to meet her halfway.
Then their lips were pressed together in the softest of kisses until Miranda decided to bite her lower lip in retaliation for Andy’s lack of response, which worked too well since she deepened their kiss on her own. She slipped her tongue inside Miranda’s parted lips, who accepted her readily. Miranda pulled back, and Andy chased after her, and their lips were pressed together again. When she felt Miranda push her lightly on the shoulders, Andy reluctantly let her go, but instead of pulling away, her lips moved to her jaw before trailing downwards to the elegant column of her neck.
“Take me home, Andrea,” Miranda whispered directly in her ear while Andy smiled as she placed one last lingering kiss at the base of Miranda’s throat before straightening up.
“Oh, baby, you’re not getting any sleep tonight,” Andy declared, her voice low as she eyed Miranda with a hunger she no longer needed to hide.
Miranda rolled her eyes, but she let herself be pulled in as Andy’s arms embraced her again, lifting her in the air like she was some sort of prize she was taking home. It made Andy giddy; she couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd they must have looked.
“The Knicks can have their trophy. I get to take you home and have you in my bed!”
“Technically, it’s my bed since we’re going to the townhouse,” Miranda muttered, then added in an afterthought, “Baby.” Which caused Andy to falter in her steps.
“Baby, please, I’m trying to get us home in one piece.”
“Excuses, excuses…”