Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  219 days, just over seven months, had passed since Andrea made a decision she would regret for generations to come. It hadn't been very smart of her to abandon Miranda Priestly in the middle of Paris Fashion Week, but her emotions had taken over in the heat of the moment and she was really upset. With part of her savings, she managed to get back to New York on her own. As soon as the plane landed, she went straight to Runway's HR department, where she spent hours negotiating a deal with Cheryl, even if she quit, she would be entitled to her final full salary and, if Miranda agreed, a letter of recommendation. When she arrived at the apartment she used to share with Nate, she found the place practically empty. The man had taken her things and even some of Andy's, leaving only the bed, a microwave, her work laptop and piles of old books.  

   Saving money and using enough for rent and food, she managed to create an emergency fund for two tight months. When the second month after Paris began, Andy was desperate and through a newspaper ad got a temporary job as a waitress to cover for an employee. In general it was a good experience because the restaurant owners were generous and really liked her, she could keep big tips and even take home free dinners some nights. On her last day of work, which lasted 6 weeks, a small farewell party was held which ended with her collapsing in the hospital emergency room, having been sick the whole party with cramps and severe nausea. Her world came crashing down with the doctor's diagnosis: Pregnancy. She hadn't even realized it, too busy trying to survive to notice that the nausea, lack of period and weight gain weren't stress. So her savings, which would have lasted a few months, quickly dwindled into obstetric consultations and basic maternity items such as diapers, wipes and some clothes.  

   As soon as she found out, she called Nate and the chef immediately suggested adoption as the main alternative, since abortion was out of the question at 26 weeks. After a euphoric discussion that resulted in screams and tears, they both came to the conclusion that he would never be a part of the baby's life. That same day, she drew up an agreement and faxed it to him. Two days later, she received the signed document and 1,300 dollars by post with a note saying “There are still places that can do it, you know...”. Feeling sick at the sharp words, she threw the envelope in the bottom of a box of clothes. Not knowing what to do with her life, Andy spent days in bed trying to decide, looking for alternatives. Perhaps she could go back to Connecticut and live with her parents, but would they accept her as a single pregnant woman? She had always been the perfect little girl and neither of them wanted to talk to her after the separation. The couple had known each other since childhood, lived on the same street, went to the same schools and college, in the Sachs' eyes Nate was perfect and if she turned up like this they would think she had slept with several men to end up in this complicated situation, this was not an option.  

   Browsing the internet, she eventually found another way to support herself temporarily, becoming a freelancer who could work without leaving home, but the money wasn't enough to keep the apartment and she had to move into a tiny apartment with a fold-out bed and a bathroom that anyone would think twice about using. The last moments of her pregnancy were spent in front of the window of the housing estate, watching children play by day and drunks party by night while she wrote boring articles for a few bucks. Lily and Doug ignored her calls and emails, still very upset about the end of their relationship and resentful of the time she worked as Miranda's assistant, in the end Andy assumed they were being childish and gave up.  

   Her only outside contact became talking to Emily on the phone from time to time and almost always to Nigel, taking care to hide her current financial situation and giving little updates on her pregnancy, the man always wanting to accompany her to the doctor. He was sure to come to blows with Dr. Marshall, a fifth-rate doctor who even accepts bottles of tequila as payment for his shoddy work, but it was what she could afford. Now, at almost nine months and about to give birth, Andrea Sachs finds herself completely alone, far from her parents, with no close friends and living in an old tiny apartment; her child will come at a bad time, but it certainly isn't unwanted. She's always imagined herself having a baby and believes she'll find a way to raise him or her. As soon as she gives birth, she'll go back to work as a freelancer, save up more money so she can pay for a nanny or nursery, and when the little one reaches a certain age, she'll go back to looking for a formal job so she can give them a stable base and get out of the hole she's gotten herself into.  

"Have you tried these cup noodles?" Andy asked on the phone, going through a whole section of these, Nigel laughed mockingly on the other end of the line answering the question "Okay, I've forgotten who I was talking to, but I really can't cook anything decent with this belly, let alone on that too-high stove the landlord left. "  

"I can help you, Six! Just call me... "  

"I don't want to bother you, you're already overloaded with work." Andy let out an audible sigh as he remembered the months they had worked together, she missed her old routine and, especially, Miranda.  

   As much as she denied that she had fallen in love with the ice lady, leaving her was one of the most rash and difficult decisions she had ever made in life, but how could she continue to face it while her feelings were screaming? Leaving Runway was something that would happen sooner or later. She even thought about going after Miranda and begging for her job back or just telling her deepest feelings, but those plans were changed by the discovery of the baby's existence; if she appeared in front of her like that, she would receive a look of disgust and be ridiculed, probably hearing some comment about her body and how she had allowed herself to end up like this.  

“I think I'll take it.” the brunette ignored another comment from Nigel about her avoiding him and grabbed a couple of different flavored, it would be better than eating cookies “And how is Emily?”  

“As usual, right now she's stuffing herself with cheese.” Andy smiled and wondered what task the redhead had been given to be like this, once again “And the little bundle of joy?”  

“They're very agitated, since yesterday they haven't stopped moving and today caused me a lot of pain in my back.” at this point she was already passing the groceries to the cashier and the money wasn't nearly enough “I'm almost betting it's a boy, kicks my bladder like a soccer player.”  

“I still think it's a girl, a little soccer player that I'd love to dress up, I can already imagine her wearing frilly dresses with bows.”  

“I know you do, I also know that regardless of their gender they'll be spoiled rotten by you.” Andy gathered up the groceries and hurried out of the store, rain approaching.  

“If it's a boy I want his second name to be Nigel and if it's a girl Nigele. I know, exaggerated, but how about Nicole?”  

   The brunette begins to laugh at the name invented by her friend and could say to the point of peeing her pants, as she feels something liquid run down her legs. The air is taken out of her lungs for a second and her hands tremble. Could it be? Taking a deep breath and trying to maintain posture, Andy began to walk again at a brisk pace.  

“Nigel... I think I've just gone into labor, my water broke.”  

“What? Where are you? I'm picking you up now, where...”  

“Calm down, you're more nervous than I am.” she laughs humorlessly, her situation is deplorable “I'm going to the Presbyterian, it's the closest.”  

“You're walking? You're pregnant!”  

“I'm a Connecticut girl, I know my way around.” so she hung up the phone, mentally praying that she would actually manage to reach the hospital.  

Chapter Text

   Runway had been infamous since its birth and rise, of course she knew that, and that was what attracted her to fight for the position of editor-in-chief. Years of dedication, body and soul, to transform the marvelous into perfection, so all the names said behind her back never mattered as long as they kept respect in front of her and did a good job. She has often been called a monster, heartless, even told she should go back to Loch Ness, but the one most known and used by her subordinates is The Dragon, the imposing figure that makes anyone afraid, the name that the trainees learned to fear from day one and still makes the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end for some veterans, those who have had the strength to carry on. The Dragon walks in heels and fur coats, strolling down the wide corridors observing everyone under dark glasses, bright eyes indifferent and judging every little detail with a peck on the lips perfectly painted red, enough to make anyone restart whatever they were doing. That indomitable, dominant nature hanging in the air, making everyone tense.  

   On any other day Miranda would have ignored the stares and whispers as she had always done in her more than ten years there, but the day started strangely, when she woke up she felt that it would be different, a certain tightness in the chest with a bit of expectation, superstition was never in her vocabulary, but the strange sensation took over her body and then her thoughts, reaching deep into her core when she set foot on the sidewalk in front of the building. Something distressed her even more as she passed through the doors, a shivering sensation that made her step back for a millisecond before entering the empty elevator. When she arrived in the hall of the office, she saw Nigel and Emily scurrying around like a couple of silly cockroaches, clearly disoriented, saying incomprehensible things amidst the chaos. Immediately, she thought that perhaps they had missed a deadline and considered who she would fire first, but she was sure that they had reviewed everything the night before and the only thing that mattered was a big fashion show next week, which was also organized. 

“What's happening?” they both stop walking when they hear the velvety voice entering the bubble of confusion and suddenly turn pale, as if they had seen the devil in person. 

“Miranda! We didn't think you'd be here so soon.” the redhead sighed, putting the phone back on her desk, fumbling to put it back on the hook.

“The meeting at the girls' school finished quicker than expected... Now, if you don't mind explaining what's going on.”

“Well, there are rumors that Versace is going to launch a special collection…” Emily spoke quickly, the nervousness hitting her in a way that made her stomach lurch and the words fail to come out, so she waited for support, or at least confirmation, from the man next to her, who didn't even pay attention to his surroundings as he went back to looking up the hospital in the contacts list, too worried about his friend, wanting to confirm her arrival, and how to get there as quickly as possible to give her support “Nigel?!”

“Not now, I need to find the name, contact, address, anything, of this fucking hospital soon. I forgot to ask Six and now she's there alone. I need to check that she has arrived safely. And she doesn't answer my texts or calls.”

“Six? Andrea's in hospital? What happened?” all of the untouchable Miranda Priestly's barriers suddenly came crashing down when she heard the name of the girl who had turned her life upside down months ago, the same girl she had tried futilely to erase from her mind while she was also trying to get over the fact that her betrayal was more painful than any previous marital cheating, it was a stab in the heart to see her walk out of her life like water running through fingers, so easily and quickly. 

“She... had an emergency.” as an assistant for years, Emily knew how to turn things around and lie straight, but she feels anxious every time and when it's about HER, she knows she could lose the head, in a literal sense, for it. 

   Like Nigel, she worries about her friend's condition and wants to meet the little bundle of joy about to arrive. She's avoided touching on Andy's name all these months as she's never had a positive reaction from the editor, so she's tried to get past the subject without any more details.

“What kind? Car accident?” she began to panic, New York can have really chaotic traffic, especially at peak times, and there are so many crazy people on the street who could hurt her “Did someone hurt her?”

“She went into labor.” Nigel mumbled without thinking and sighed with relief when he finally found what he needed. 

“What?” the woman went into a state of shock and came dangerously close to him, pulling him by the collar of the blouse, making him finally pay attention to her presence “Which hospital is she in? Tell me now.”

“Presbyterian. I think it was almost half an hour ago.”

“Emily, clear my schedule and tell Roy to meet us on the first floor. I'll send you instructions, meet us at the hospital.” she let go of the man's blouse and walked towards the elevator, stopping in front of it, signaling that she was waiting for him “And you're going to explain this story to me detail by detail.”

   Andrea always had the dream of being a mom tucked away in a drawer and imagined her life with a baby, all those fantastical stages of watching that life grow inside her, planning its arrival and all the things that seemed beautiful and magical. But she never imagined being punched by fate, finding herself in this particular scenario: Alone in a hospital room feeling pain too terrible to bear, going through every inch of contractions that wouldn't even let her stand up without bending over, and with no one to support her in what would be one of the most defining moments of her life. She thought that all birth stories were overrated until she was in the same situation and realized that bringing a child into the world would be one of the hardest things she had ever done.

   More than half an hour ago, she was admitted to hospital with a few centimeters of dilation but not enough to start labor. This worried her for several reasons, as she had heard several cases of babies not surviving because the umbilical cord was wrapped around their necks or they had run out of oxygen, which became a paranoia after having a dubious prenatal care. In addition to the exorbitant daily rates and post-natal care for every hour spent under medical care, especially given her current financial situation. The bump on her belly barely fits into her hospital clothes and she doesn't want to imagine how clumsy she is, the last few months have been hellish and barely had time or desire to take proper care of her appearance, but every kilo gained, hour slept and sacrifice would be worth it when the little baby she had been waiting for so long was in her arms. She or he was still agitated, trying to let her know that they were more than ready, even if her body wasn't yet. 

“We can take you to the delivery room now.” said the nurse, finishing the dilation check. Andrea was starting to get frustrated that no one had told her anything about the baby or the birth so far “Any companions?”

“No, but my friend should be here soon, I think.” she smiled faintly, trying not to show sadness, and sighed as she settled down between the pillows before getting up, being wheeled by wheelchair into the room that seemed completely daunting with so many people and equipment, she felt small and fragile.

  With the help of the same nurse, Andy lay down on the hospital bed and got into the right position. Her child seemed to realize that it was time, because a strong contraction threw her against the pillow, making her moan in pain, followed by an even stronger contraction. The time had finally come and she was scared as hell to realize how real this moment was becoming. In a few hours or maybe minutes, he or she would be here and would be able to hear her cry, touch their little body and kiss their little forehead. The reason for her battles would finally come into the world and she would no longer be alone, for they would have each other. And yet she felt fear, mixed with anticipation and joy.

“Madam! You can't come in like this…” the voice of one of the nurses was heard behind her, a small commotion that she didn't have the strength to turn around and see, the pain being bigger than her own curiosity. 

“This area is for staff and companions only, please leave.” said the doctor in a firm, authoritative tone, ready to throw the person out. 

“This is my fiancée and this is my child, I believe it's my right to be here.” Andy froze completely when she recognized the voice of her former boss, after months it still had the same effect, the same tone, the same touch that would make anyone fall to their knees easily, which made it no surprise that the doctor and all the staff shut up immediately. Miranda Priestly was there, lying about something she'd give anything to be true, but had always been too cowardly to claim as her own. Now the elegant hands are clutching her own, desperate for a supportive grip, leaned on the bed centimeters from Andrea's face, too close, she crumbles under the watchful blue eyes “A little lie, if you don't mind.” whispered the editor so that only she could hear and winked, receiving a thrilled smile from the brunette. 

   Dragons are mythical creatures, deserving of the symbols of strength and magnificence, gods of destruction flying through the sky as if they didn't care about anything but their own existence, but what many representations have never said is that dragons can be protective and cross boundaries, be multifaceted, which Miranda Priestly does justice to because she has always excelled at commanding Runaway, she has always been the most protective person with Cassidy and Caroline, she would give her life for their happiness and safety, and, although she won't admit it out loud, she would do the same for Andrea and now for this baby. 

Chapter Text

   The first and last time Miranda was in a maternity ward was when her own daughters were born. She still remembers the frightening feeling of walking through those wide corridors filled with other mothers and babies crying in the background. The soft smell that you never associate with hospitals, soft and delicate, fresh and natural, almost sweet. From the minute she found out she was pregnant, right at the beginning of middle age and the peak of her career, she was afraid of the moment that would inevitably come, even though she had her ex-husband and sister by her side. So she can't imagine how scared Andrea was when she checked into the hospital alone, filled out the long admission form, and waited for each passing minute without knowing what awaited her, without the slightest support, with the most excruciating pain known to man. She didn't want to show it, but she could swear to being as nervous as the new mom, the baby of the woman she loves was coming into the world, unexpectedly and dramatically. For a millisecond, between hand-wringing and hoarse moans, she wondered where the father was, but finally pushed the thought away, focusing on the most beautiful scene she could witness and happy to be able to do so. It didn't matter at that point, nothing really mattered, she would protect them with her own life.

   Andrea suffered for another half hour before the baby began to crown, sweat dripping onto brown strands of hair, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, breathing unevenly, hands clasped to those of the editor. They exchanged a few words during this time, still maintaining the farce of brides, and many words of support were spoken before the little being finally decided to meet the world. Black hair contrasting with the blood that covered them tiny body, little fingers stretching lazily in the air as if they had just woken up from a long sleep. Beautiful. Small. Frighteningly silent.

   The younger practically fainted against the pillow, conscious but not quite aware of what was happening around her, a blur on the fine line between reality and reverie. She smiled a small, proud smile when the newborn was placed in her line of sight, held by one of the nurses. But Miranda was more than aware and despaired when she realized that the room remained silent, the baby had not been handed to them, they couldn't even see them up close, and the other nurses were walking back and forth as if they didn't know exactly what to do. The doctor had a concerned expression on his face, almost a look of guilt, and that's when she noticed that little Sachs hadn't cried yet. No loud cry, no soft cry, not even a whimper. When she realized it, she had already been taken away by one of the older nurses, who forced her to wait in the waiting room, explaining that there had been some complications and that she would bring news soon. There was no time or space for protests.

“Where's Six? And my godson?” Nigel asked as soon as he found the woman pacing back and forth in the hallway, ignoring her sore heels and the pitying looks directed at her.

“I don't know, I think they're still in the delivery room, they took me out of there... Nigel, the baby... I don't think they cried... they didn't cry.” and the realization of what had happened finally hit her like an anchor pulling her to the bottom of the sea, a sea of sadness and negative thoughts. Miranda's walls finally came down and she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, trying in vain to stop the tears from falling. “The baby didn't cry.”

“Calm down! I'm here, Six will be fine and so will the little bundle of joy, let's try not to think the worst. You know that girl is strong, and her child will be too." he wanted to believe his own words and rubbed his boss's back, trying to calm her down as best he could. One of them had to be sane and psychologically stable. Miranda had always been good at that, even though it was just a mask, but this time she couldn't keep up the act.

   They split up and sat in chairs, anxiously waiting for news about both Andy and the baby. Emily arrived shortly after, with a large white bear in arm and a variety of balloons in the other hand, clichéd phrases among cute colors and patterns, plus a maternity bag slung over her shoulders. Not that she knew much about motherhood or babies in general, but a quick check on the internet and a visit to the department store filled the back of the taxi with bags of essentials and piles of baby clothes. She immediately sensed the tense atmosphere, so just sat quietly next to them. It seemed like hours, even though only half an hour had passed between hurried walks down the long linoleum corridor, worried sighs, and whispered conversations with professionals who had the misfortune of encountering Miranda along the way. The door opens, drawing everyone's attention, and the doctor in charge and the same nurse who had kicked out the editor join them.

“Andrea Sachs' companions?!” Nigel stood up immediately, but he was not faster than Miranda, who seemed to fly the five meters and was in front of the tall man in milliseconds, a pleading look waiting for some news, some light. “Well, mother and baby are doing well. The delivery was difficult, Andrea did not have adequate care, and the excessive effort led to a complicated delivery. The baby...

“What happened to MY baby?” she growled, not letting him finish the sentence.

“She’s fine. You have a little fighter. It’s not easy to say this, but there was a high risk of asphyxia. She wasn’t breathing properly, and our team was quick to realize this. Now she is stable, healthy, and ready to meet her mommies. The baby is already in the nursery, under observation, Nurse Morris will guide you there.”

   The weight of fear and anguish lifted from Miranda's shoulders, as well as from her companions. Andy was safe and so was the baby, that was all that mattered. A huge smile spread across the editor's lips and she could no longer control her emotions. Andrea is a mom. She is now the mom of a little girl, who probably inherited her big brown almond-shaped eyes, full of sweetness and curiosity, and who will one day grow up to have her smile, the one that makes her own heart skip a beat and steals the air from her lungs. It felt like a premonition, deep down, as soon as she entered that room and held the pale hands, that soon there would be another Sachs in the world. She imagined her vividly, in her mom's arms, cradled by her love and showered with affection, and came to the easy conclusion that motherhood suited her former assistant so naturally.

"Your fiancée is sleeping, but you'll be able to see her soon. Ready to meet your daughter?“ the nurse asked, guiding her through the wide corridors. Miranda nodded quickly, not knowing what to say. She was ecstatic and scared at the same time. The baby was now fine after all the scare she had been through, well and so close to her, just a few steps away. “Here we are, she’s the second on the left, in the front row.”

   And there was little Sachs. No more than 42 centimeters long, smaller than the twins at birth, pale and wrinkled, her head full of black hair, her hands and feet small and red. If she weren't moving, anyone could swear she was a doll. And her little face, Miranda knew that all babies are born with knee-like faces, but she could swear she could see every feature, full of traits similar to her mother's, the same nose, marked lips, and thick eyebrows. She was a copy of Andrea Sachs. The older woman couldn't have been prouder, of both of them, of the woman who had made her cross town just to be by her side and of the little being who had won her over with her mere existence.

   Nigel was practically drooling over the glass, admiring his goddaughter, and even Emily seemed to be moved, talking to the baby as if she understood her. The boss was going to scold her for disturbing the baby's sleep, but it was the redhead who managed to wake her up, and Miranda caught a glimpse of the newborn's eyes. They were blue... icy blue.

“You must be so happy, she has your eyes, but she's the spitting image of your fiancée, a perfect combination,” the nurse whispered and blinked at the editor, who could only respond with a big smile.

   It was true, Andrea's daughter had her eyes, so clear and expressive even in her first hours of life, framed by long dark lashes. It was as if fate was throwing open the door to happiness in her face.

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” Miranda asked rhetorically, and they just nodded in agreement, beaming.

   The trio spent almost an hour admiring the baby. The nurses even asked if she wanted to hold her; her gaze seemed to beg for it, but she put herself in the new mother's shoes and decided it was best not to steal this moment from Andrea. She didn't even know if she would allow her to do so.

“Hey!” the oldest nurse greeted them. She thought they were cute; they looked like they had never seen a real baby before. “Andrea is awake now. Let's take the little one to her first meeting with her mommy, or rather, mommies. Your fiancée is waiting for you.”

   At this point, Miranda had forgotten about the little lie and liked how it sounded. She wanted it to be true, just as she wanted to have accompanied the pregnancy from beginning to end. Then she finally asked herself: Did Andrea abandon her because of the pregnancy? Suddenly she was flooded with questions, but she quickly pushed them aside, since she was the one with them. And the girl's father was not.

   Emily had managed to get her friend one of the best rooms in the hospital, of course using Priestly's name, money, and influence. It looked comfortable at a glance, with a hospital bed in the middle, two upholstered armchairs in the left corner, the door to the private bathroom next to the entrance door, a television for the patient's entertainment, and, opposite the bed, a large window offering a beautiful view of New York, illuminating the spacious room when not covered by the large, heavy curtains. Andrea was already settled in and being cared for, a nurse helped her sit up. She looked completely exhausted, her pajamas slightly wrinkled, messy hair, and red eyes, as if she had cried a lot and then had a terrible night's sleep, yet she gave the most genuine smile in the world when she saw the crib on wheels enter the room with her little ray of sunshine.

“Hi, my love...” she whispered as they approached, barely noticing their presence, all her attention focused on the little human being she had carried for months and waited anxiously for.

   The baby seemed to sense she was close to her mom. The moment she was placed next to the bed, she woke up gently and stared at her as if she were the most interesting thing in the world. And the young woman was enchanted by the tiny creature, so small and already turning her life upside down before even coming into the world. She immediately thanked the heavens for inheriting her physical features and not her father's, except for the blue eyes, which, despite everything, did not really resemble Nate's, but were lighter, more intense, and more expressive. Perhaps it was because Nate always looked at her with resentment and superiority, or perhaps it was simply because she was her child. Only hers.

“Is it a girl?” she asked when she saw the pink details on the little cap that barely covered the tufts of black hair. Miranda nodded and exchanged a knowing glance with the younger, who teared up without realizing it. “Can I hold her? She looks so small and fragile..."

“Of course, your daughter is a brave little fighter. She may be small, but she fought hard,” said the young nurse who was helping her get settled, and Nurse Wilson picked up the bundle from between the blankets, carrying her deftly to Andrea, who carefully cradled her close to her chest, as if she were made of glass.

“She's very calm, especially for a newborn,” added the older nurse. “Maybe she's a natural observer.”

“And she didn't even cry when Emily woke her up,” Nigel added. The redhead made no attempt to defend herself, just gave her an apologetic look and approached, holding the gifts, her arms aching from carrying so much weight.

“Miranda sent me to buy the bear and the balloons, and I had to run all over town with shopping bags,” whispered the assistant, winking suggestively, a smile that went unnoticed, leaving the items on the lounge chair next to her and tying the balloons to the foot of the bed. “We are all proud and happy for you. Congratulations, Andrea!”

“The other mom seems a little shy, do you want to hold her too?” the younger nurse asked behind Miranda and pushed her toward them “You make such a beautiful family, do you want me to take a picture?”

“Yes!”

"No!" Miranda shuddered when she realized what she had said and tried to assimilate Andrea's yes "I mean... If it's not too much..."

“No problem, it would be my pleasure.”

   Nigel handed her a camera he had brought especially for this purpose. She positioned herself among the visitors and, standing in the center of the room, took pictures of them, who smiled from ear to ear as the moment was captured. The editor's arms were around her former subordinate, so delicate and affectionate that anyone from the outside could believe in the little theater. Her chin rested on the soft shoulders, and she smelled Andy's body lotion. How she missed that, intoxicating her and permeating every space in the office, which remained in her hotel room until the end of that hellish week in Paris. She stared at the slender, soft hands holding the little bundle of joy wrapped in the white blanket, her finger caressing the newborn's red cheeks, and she caught a glimpse of the biggest smile she had ever seen the younger make, her brown eyes shining, slightly teary, full of love. She was so focused that she didn't notice the sequence of clicks. Then the other two joined in and also took pictures with the baby. Emily wanted to sit in the armchair with the little one, and Nigel felt jealous and wanted one too, which resulted in a fight and both of them being kicked out of the room. The nurses went after them, as they had other things to do, leaving the women alone in the room.

“Thank you for staying with me, for all of this too,” Andrea murmured shyly. The baby seemed to want to feed now, so she had to lower her pajama top to her breasts, and the little girl instinctively grabbed it, sucking eagerly, so naturally that it startled her for a moment. “She's smart.”

“Scary smart!” Miranda would never admit that she felt like a teenager staring at the woman's breasts like one, it seemed so indecent and so wrong, but at the same time the most beautiful scene she had ever seen in her life. “Does she have a name yet? We've been calling her baby for hours.”

"Sorry about that, I didn't even know the gender, but I love that it's a girl. I always wanted to have a daughter." she smiled and kissed the baby's pink little head. "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here, so it's only fair that you get to choose her name."

   The editor seemed to think of a name, even though she already had one in mind, and felt so happy to be able to participate in this moment that she couldn't refuse out of politeness.

“Won't her father mind?” she asked, trying to get rid of that question that had been growing since she set foot in the hospital.

“He's not part of our lives, abandoned us before I even knew I was pregnant. As soon as he found out, he didn't bother to be in her life.”

“I'm sorry about that, but I'm here for you, I promise...” Miranda froze as Andrea placed her hands on hers and gave her a grateful look.

“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I don't know how I'll ever repay you, but I swear I'll try.”

“Are you talking about the medical expenses? Don't worry about that, it's the least I could do for you.“ the older woman took her hand and squeezed it gently, then leaned over to look at the baby closely, practically sitting next to Andy on the bed. ”What do you think about naming her Caitlyn?"

"I think it's wonderful... Caitlyn Miriam Sachs. Perfect, isn't it?"

Chapter Text

   Caitlyn is frightening to Miranda, it's as if the dragon had been defeated with simple curious glances and smiles that were nothing more than muscle spasms. Near her, there were no barriers, not even a mask on her face. She only existed for that little being who now rests in her arms. Of course, she knew this feeling, but she had only experienced it with the twins before. When Cassidy “smiled,” she would spend minutes staring at her, waiting for the next spasm to bring a dose of serotonin. Caroline used to be the quieter and more observant of the two, so she always caught her staring. Now she sees both of them in baby Sachs. The fact that the newborn is a spitting image of Andrea doesn't help at all, the girl wrapped her around her little finger with unbelievable ease and without realizing it.

   The doctor had released mother and daughter two days after the birth, but Miranda insisted that they stay in the hospital for another two or three days under medical supervision, especially after the scare of almost losing Caitlyn. There were no aftereffects from the difficult delivery, far from it. Despite her small size, she is lively and responds to most stimuli. In part, she also wants to spend more time with both of them, enjoy the baby's first days, and try to talk to Andrea about the last year. “Oh...” the editor murmurs with a thrill as she feels Caitlyn grab her finger and hold it with her little hand.

“What happened?” Andrea immediately turned around, half asleep and half alert, and smiled as she watched the two interacting in the corner armchair, the baby nestled in her warm arms. It was a sweet and adorable scene that she wanted to capture in her memory like a photograph, immaculate.

“You have a very strong daughter, look how smart she is.”

“She's even stronger with her mouth, my breasts are still sore.” the younger squeezed her breast, where Caitlyn had decided to feed almost exclusively, and groaned when she realized how sensitive it was. Her daughter was hungry and spared no effort to get what she wanted. The act did not go unnoticed by Miranda, who felt her own face flush.

“And a little stubborn. She doesn't like to stay in the nursery, the nurse had to bring her here because she was restless and woke up the other babies,” she whispered and coughed awkwardly, trying to maintain her composure.

“I don't believe it...” Andrea groaned, pretending to be embarrassed, but she couldn't resist the humor of the situation and ended up laughing. “I'm sorry, it's just that I expected this. She barely let me sleep during my pregnancy. You know, kicks in the bladder, ribs, hiccups, imagine when I ate something she didn't like.”

“I was lucky with the twins, they were calm as babies, but when they grew up they gave me all the trouble I didn't have in the early years of motherhood.” the two laughed, knowing full well how temperamental the pair are, Andy knows this better than anyone. “By the way, they asked to visit you... they miss you and are dying to meet Caitlyn.”

“I miss them too, it was fun chaos. When can they come?”

“In the afternoon, after school. I almost went deaf from their screams on the phone." Andrea's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, realizing that during the almost week she had spent in the hospital, the woman had not left her side at any time, and if she wasn't with her, she was taking care of the newborn, who seemed to only have eyes for the editor, becoming agitated or melancholic when with a nurse or even in her own mom's arms. She simply dropped everything to take care of the two of them, which warmed her heart, but at the same time made her worried. “What happened? Are you in pain somewhere?” Miranda got up from the armchair fearfully and reached her in two long strides.

“Oh no, no, I'm fine, maybe a little tired.” Andy smiled weakly and sighed. “I just can't stop thinking about how wonderful you've been to Cait and me, so suddenly and without wanting anything in return. I just...”

“You doubted I would do something like this.” Miranda's voice faltered, a little hurt at the thought that the girl thought of her this way, a strange feeling that tightened her heart and filled her mind with insecurity.

“No... I mean, I never imagined this situation and you in this position, but I would never doubt you and your character.” the journalist quickly explained herself, not wanting to lose the sweet little moment, and sighed, flashing a genuine smile, still tired, but enough to plant another on the older's lips. "You broke into the delivery room after months of not seeing me just so you wouldn't leave me alone, and now you're taking care of both of us. I'll never be able to thank you enough, but I hope to do my best. I will also make up for the episode in Paris." “Don't worry about it, Andrea.” the editor placed her free hand gently on hers, squeezing it, trying to convey some confidence. “I can take care of you both, and I will, not because I want something in return or to seem superior, as anyone might think. Ever since you walked through those doors for the first time, I felt that there was something different about you, and I'm sorry I wasn't the best person to work with during the time you worked with me..." she stopped suddenly, a little ashamed, mentally slapping herself as she remembered every rude word and situation she had put the other woman through. "I really... like you. And I want to support you from now on. I know you can be proud, but do it for Caitlyn. Think of her. I parachuted into your lives after so long, but I'm willing to keep my feet on the ground."

“Oh, Miranda! I really don't know what to say, especially since I wouldn't be able to pay the hospital bills until I found a job.” she shrugged, feeling bad about being in this financial and emotional situation after throwing away her future in the French capital. “And rebuilding the bridge we were creating in Paris. I still don't know, and it feels strange to have you as a friend now, but I like how it sounds. You were with me during the scariest moment of my life, even after everything that happened to us. Right now, I feel like I could trust you with my life after such a beautiful and unexpected gesture. Thank you, thank you for everything and for being here."

“I'm the one who's grateful for letting me be a part of this and of the life of this cute little creature in my arms.” Miranda pressed the baby against her chest and hummed happily as she watched the little girl attentively observe their interaction, her blue eyes fixed on the editor's face with a certain admiration, and a small smile appeared, the effect of a spasm that gave the older another dose of serotonin. “That's the second smile she's given today.”

“She's always happy when she's with you. I get the grumpy side. Yesterday she hardly stopped crying when you went out for coffee.“ the brunette laughed and leaned over so she could reach the girl, stroking her thick black hair with her index finger. “I was, well, I'm a bit afraid to ask, but why did you come running even after everything I did?”

“Because I care.” that was the only thing the editor could think of, short and to the point. There were so many things she wanted to say, but no words could describe how she felt at that moment. In fact, she never knew, but this was a start for someone who could be considered an ice queen. And the ice queen left her speechless, but with a shy smile on her full lips and red cheeks. “You look so beautiful when you blush.”

“What...” Andrea blurted out, and her facial expression suddenly changed. “Are you flirting with me?” then she burst out laughing when she noticed her ex-boss's face quickly becoming hard and serious.

   And then that same face turned red, as red as hers, something she had never seen before. Brown eyes fixed on blue ones, faces close together due to the proximity of their bodies, as if they were getting closer and closer, and then a sea of white covered Miranda's red blouse. Caitlyn vomited on both women and seemed to enjoy it, another small smile appearing after the deed. It was simply hilarious and both exploded with laughter, a little bewildered by what had just happened, the baby had simply ruined a cute moment and still laughed at them.

   Andrea thought the woman would walk away or hand the girl over quickly, but Miranda just settled her on the lap and started unbuttoning the blouse with her free hand, slowly revealing black lace lingerie, a paradise in Andy's eyes, who could barely take in the situation and choked on her own saliva, stunned.

“Give her to me, you don't have to do that,” she whispered and reached for her daughter, bringing Caitlyn to herself, wrapped in a fluffy blanket and looking anything but pleased to have been taken from Miranda's arms. “I told you, this little girl is a traitor. I carried her for torturous long months and her favorite person is you. How poetic.”

“Well, in theory and to the hospital, I'm her other mother,” Miranda whispered as if it were a big secret and proud, with a desire deep in her soul that this scenario were real. Andy was stunned to see her completely without her dirty shirt, losing sight of the paradise of the editor's sculpted breasts and collarbone when she put on a plain T-shirt that was in her purse as extra clothing. “Half of this hospital has commented on how she has my eyes and your face, I'm starting to believe it.”

“I gave birth to a mini Miranda and only now realized it.” they analyzed the newborn's face, losing the essence of a knee face, coming to the silent conclusion that what they say is a fact. “Then the name Miriam is appropriate.”

“I'm going to kill Emily for telling you my birth name.”

“She didn't tell me anything, I saw it in the paperwork. Or would you prefer Caitlyn Miranda? There's still time to change it.”

“I'm not sure now. Can I think about it?” she gave her a mischievous smile, and before she could answer, the door opened abruptly, Nigel followed by Emily, excited, and Serena timidly entering behind them.

“Hello! We brought something other than bad hospital food for the new mom to eat,” the man said quickly, practically throwing the tray on the hospital bed. “What happened in this room? It smells like sour milk.”

“Your goddaughter's doing,” Andy laughed and grabbed a wet wipe from the side table, cleaning her own clothes and the baby's little pink jumpsuit. “And I think we'll have to change her. Poor thing.”

“That girl knows how to put on a show,” Emily commented amusedly. “Look, Serena! I told you, she looks just like Miranda.”

“Oh, that's true, and she's so cute, those chubby cheeks...”

“I'm still hurt that she didn't name her Nigele, you know, I could have walked into that room and said I was the father.” Nigel began to ramble and show indignation while all the women in the room began to laugh. “What?”

“Not even homophobic old ladies would believe that you and Andy are a couple,” Serena commented, eliciting more laughter.

“And you would have fainted if you had witnessed the birth. Even Miranda, who is already a mother, almost gave up.” the editor, who is still standing next to Andy, immediately began to deny it, not wanting anyone to know about her brief moment of weakness when she saw the baby's head crowning, at the nurse's insistence.

“In my defense, I had a C-section, so I didn't have to see anything. But it was very graphic... and bloody,” she confessed, embarrassed. “Caitlyn is so adorable now that she doesn't even remind me of that swollen, bloody little thing.”

   The rest of the morning passed quietly with the quartet assisting the new mother in everything she needed. Emily didn't want to show it, but she was completely enchanted by the little baby, and Serena teased her about it throughout the visit, also enchanted by little Sachs. Nigel continued to insist on various names that referred to his, going from Nigele to Nicole in a last frustrated attempt to convince her to change the name before leaving the hospital the next morning. Miranda just laughed and joked that she was offended that he was criticizing the name she had chosen for the child. Then they took turns having lunch, and the editor was able to go home to take a proper shower and get things ready for the next issue of Runaway. There was a lot to organize after neglecting her work for a few days, doing only what was strictly necessary on her laptop. She had never done this before. Not even when the girls were born. Miranda had never put an issue aside until now. Emily and Serena left in the early afternoon to go to work, and only Nigel stayed with his friend, feeling comfortable to finally be able to talk alone after months without continuous contact.

“I brought this little dress for when we leave the maternity ward. I read somewhere that this moment is very important.” He took the tiny baby pink garment out of his bag along with a mini fur coat and white ballet flats. “It's getting cold, and I don't want my goddaughter to be cold. She'll leave looking like a fashionista princess, worthy of the cover of Runaway.”

“People will think my daughter is the heir to some Manhattan tycoon. What if they decide to kidnap her?” Andy joked and turned to the girl, kissing her on the forehead. “You couldn't stand being away from your mommy, could you?”

“The only person who would kidnap Cait would be me, and you know where I live. Maybe Miranda, she's fascinated by this little doll, she's like a doting mother who can't stay away from her baby. I'm pretty sure I saw her doing a mini photo shoot of her in the nursery.”

“She's barely left the room since we were sent here,” the journalist murmured, almost embarrassed by all the attention and affection the two had received in recent days, as if she weren't worthy of it, especially coming from the woman she had abandoned at an important moment and who had every right to give her a hard time in New York. She looked at the little creature in her arms and observed every feature, admiring her carefully for the first time since the craziness of the last few days, with friends, Miranda, or the nurses always nearby, full of concern and care. “She's so beautiful, so perfect, with such pretty eyes and so much hair. I swore she would be born bald, but we can put bows in those little tufts.”

“I can even guess who those eyes remind you of.” Nigel was quick and astute in his comment, sitting down next to them and admiring the little bundle of joy about to fall asleep, even though she had already taken at least three naps earlier. “Did you tell your ex-boyfriend?”

“No, Nate doesn't care about us and made that very clear when he sent me a check to have an abortion,” she whispered, trying not to let the hurt in her voice show. It had been a difficult few months with moments she never imagined she would go through, an unplanned pregnancy and completely alone, but now she has her friends around and it's not something she wants to get used to. "And she'll be better off without him. He had the best ham and cheese sandwich in town, but no parenting or partner skills. We once tried to take care of a plant and he let it die, he didn't even try. I would just be a solo mom with a boyfriend."

“I still can't believe that rat dared to send you that.” he sighed and left a tender kiss on his friend's temple, not knowing what to say. “Now you have me and all of us. By the way, who will take you home tomorrow?”

“I can take a taxi.” Andy doesn't want them to see her real situation, much less feel sorry for her. None of them would dare enter that cubicle she calls home, and suddenly she was overcome with fear that they might take Caitlyn away from her if they saw the state of the building. She knows her daughter deserves better, but there is still much to do and achieve for that. “She has to get used to life in the lower class of New York, the sooner the better,” she joked, with a hint of truth.

“You talk as if you live in a dangerous suburb.”

“Almost.”

“Six!” they started laughing and the little girl fidgeted uncomfortably in her lap. “I'll put her in the crib, give me that princess.” Nigel took Cait from the journalist's arms and carefully carried her to the crib next to the bed. “I think she'll sleep soundly now. I foresee many sleepless nights in your future.”

“She's temperamental, sleepless nights and days, I'm screwed. And so are my neighbors... thin walls.”

“You know you can sleep in my loft. I'll have to sleep on the couch, but it's probably more spacious and comfortable than your apartment.” he began to speak, a little anxious and hoping to hear a yes to the invitation he was about to make. “Do you want to live with me? Think about Caitlyn. You could stay there rent-free and devote yourself to journalism without worrying about bills.”

“Nigel, I...” she murmured, not knowing how to refuse in a way that wouldn't hurt the man's feelings or ego, but she didn't have enough courage to say a definite no. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure, I hope as soon as possible and the right decision.” Nigel sighed, feeling defeated. It wasn't the first time they had brought up the subject, which Andy had always managed to sneak away from. "Since you didn't give me your address, I had to get some clothes from last season's collection so you could go out.

“What's wrong with my clothes?”

“The doctors had to practically cut them off to start labor immediately, and you can't go out in hospital clothes.” Andrea frowned, not remembering this fact, but everything was so confusing and fast that she wasn't surprised to have lost it among her jumbled memories of the birth. “Besides, I taught you how to dress better. If they hadn't destroyed those clothes, I would have done it myself.”

“But they were normal clothes.”

“Clothes from before Runway.” Andy snorted and decided not to continue the conversation so that it wouldn't escalate into an argument that would lead to a fight, the last thing she wanted right now. “Tell me about you and Miran...” before he could bring up another subject, which he was very curious about since he almost got beaten up in the elevator, the door suddenly opened and two little redheads burst into the room, excited.

“Andy!” the girls shouted in unison and practically threw themselves on the bed, one on each side hugging her. “We missed you so much!” Cassidy murmured between smiles and almost suffocated the brunette in a tight hug, while Caroline let go of her a second later and ran to the crib, where the baby was still asleep despite the commotion around her.

"She's so beautiful, she looks like a doll, Cass! She has such tiny hands!“ the girl whispered in awe. She had never seen a baby in person before; the twins had grown up surrounded by adults, their only contact with children being at school and with distant cousins. ”Is it true that her name is Caitlyn?" Andrea nodded in confirmation, and a knowing smile spread across the sisters' faces.

“I love it, it's like she's our little sister with the matching name, or a third twin.”

“Girls...” Miranda scolded them as she entered the room, shocked by what they were saying, their boldness. “Calm down, Andrea is tired and you'll wake Caitlyn, she's very small and a light sleeper. So stop poking her, Caroline.“ the older twin moved away from the baby and Cassidy approached to admire her too.

”Are you okay?" the editor turned to the younger and held her hand, squeezing it to convey some kind of confidence, something she suddenly realized she was doing frequently.

“Yes, I am. She was restless, but she finally fell asleep.”

“I wasn't asking about Caitlyn. I want to know how you are.”

“Oh, I... I'm still scared, and in a little pain too." Andy confessed in a low voice so that no one but them could hear, since Nigel was taking care of the twins so they wouldn't disturb the newborn's sleep. “It's surreal that she's here.”

“That's how it is, don't worry, motherhood is a little scary, but I'm sure you'll know how to handle it like no one else.” Andrea's eyes meet Miranda's and she can believe for the first time in 72 hours that everything will be okay.

“Thank you for everything.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, always remember that. Well, now I'm going to spoil Caitlyn before taking the girls home.” Miranda joined the trio who were watching the baby slowly wake up.

   The brunette watched them closely and saw how kind and welcoming they were being to them even after so much time and the situations they had been through. She couldn't help but smile genuinely, but her chest tightened when she thought about the original plan, which still persisted, that she would move away, for her sake and theirs. Cait and she would be fine being independent and living the life that their circumstances allowed them. She would hate to ever see Miranda's pitying look or hear Nigel's harsh criticism, let alone Emily's look of disgust. Maybe they could see each other again when she managed to get her life in order and untangle the mess she didn't want to bring into her friends' lives. So the next day, before anyone could protest, she would return to her apartment, not her home, and rebuild her life on her own, for herself and for Caitlyn. For her pride.

Chapter Text

The little girl's eyes are curious and impatient as she stares at the white ceiling of the hospital room while waiting for her mom's full attention. The next day she will be two weeks old, but is already as smart and active as a one-month-old baby. After minutes of waiting for someone to pick her up, as Miranda always does, Caitlyn finds the lack of physical contact and attention strange, preparing her lungs to vent frustration in the form of crying. Before she could do so, she recognized the strands of dark brown hair above the crib and Andrea's sweet smile directed at her, which immediately calmed down.

“Already awake, my love, you really are a morning baby.”

Andy feels guilty, she wants to pick up her daughter and rock her immediately, but there is no time for that. By the calculations, she has about half an hour before Miranda or Nigel arrive at the hospital. She is immensely grateful for everything they have done for them and doesn't want to cause anyone any more trouble. She felt like a child having to stay in the hospital for so long, even though she felt reasonably well, and doesn't even want to imagine the extent of the medical bills. Performing an emergency delivery and keeping a newborn under supervision for so long is not cheap, especially when you don't have health insurance, as in her case. The young woman sighs and puts some clothes in the bag Emily brought a few days ago. The last items she packed were the gifts Cait received from all her friends and even the twins: teddy bears, clothes, and basic baby items. A single tear rolls down her cheek as she imagines their reaction when they realize she is gone. It would be painful, but necessary for her to move on with her life as planned, in search of independence so she can take care of her daughter her own way, not wanting to be a burden or an extra responsibility in anyone's life. Just as her parents taught her.

“We're going home, my little one,” she whispered as she approached the crib. The baby stirred, moving her little arms, and the mom could swear she saw a smile form when the baby realized she was about to be picked up again. “You're a little creature who likes attention, aren't you?!” Andrea lifts and lays her against breasts, the little girl relaxes in the softness, about to fall asleep again. "Now we're going to dress you in the outfit Uncle Nigel gave you, you're going to leave this hospital like a little princess. We're going home,“ she repeated, and this time Cait stirred, seeming to understand the meaning behind the sounds. Her moans and whimpers betrayed her impending tears. The brunette sighed and began to rock her slowly in her lap. ”You know, you have a very strong personality for someone who was born from me. I'm very diligent, your... father... or sperm donor was an imbecile, you're nothing like that. God, you're a clever little girl, and I'm afraid of when you start talking." she laughed when caught her daughter calming down with the compliments and took advantage of the low guard to start dressing her.

Caitlyn had been very calm throughout the whole process and in a matter of minutes she was ready, wearing a soft pink dress, warm tights, white flats and a mini furry coat. Lastly, she added a woolen hat with a pompom on top. This was the important moment Nigel had mentioned so often, and she understood why. The idea of taking her little girl home, away from that sterile, unnatural environment with white walls, gave her an incredible feeling and filled her heart with joy. Although there wasn't much waiting for them on that empty street in a forgotten suburb, it was their home. A small second-hand crib next to her bed where she already imagines the baby sleeping and growing up to become a little person, the harbinger of a better future, praying that she will soon be able to give her the ideal life of her dreams. Andrea slung her bag over her shoulder, wrapped the baby in a warm blanket, then heard a soft knock on the door. For a moment she thought it was Miranda and felt her soul leave the body, the plan falling apart for crucial minutes, but she was relieved to recognize the blue uniform of the nurse assigned to her room.

“Are you leaving already? Your fiancée didn't tell us...”

“She's been very busy! She forgot,” she tried to explain quickly and smiled weakly, feeling guilty for lying. “I feel much better and want to take Cait home as soon as possible, you know... Miranda is just overprotective.”

"After the scare that little girl gave us, it's no wonder. Well, it's rare to have same-sex couples in the maternity ward, but you two are an example. Ms. Priestly is always so attentive and kind, a natural mother. And your older daughters are adorable, they couldn't stop talking about Caitlyn after their visits.“ Andrea wanted to correct her, to say that the twins weren't her daughters, only Miranda's, but she didn't see the point and smiled at the thought of a small family, which soon dissipated under the weight of reality. “Would you like me to take a picture of you?”

“Oh, yes! Please!” the brunette took her flip phone out of her bag, handed it to the nurse, and adjusted the baby in position, placing her in the best possible way to capture their departure from the maternity ward. The nurse took a few photos and smiled at the results. “Thank you, Samantha!”

“You're welcome!” The nurse returned the device to her and gestured for permission to approach the baby. Andy allowed it. “Bye, Caitlyn! We'll miss you bossing us around.”

“And she'll miss you, especially you. I have to admit, you're better at calming her down than I am.” she snorted and laughed to herself at that annoying twinge of silly jealousy.

“It's years of practice, and you're a young mom. I imagine it was difficult to enjoy all these moments as a first-time mom of twins, but you'll soon get the hang of it with her. Oh! You have to stop by the front desk to sign the discharge papers, pick up the doctors' results, and the birth certificate.”

“Certificate? But don't I have to do that separately?” she was genuinely confused.

“The document you signed yesterday. Your fiancée is very busy, we know that, she asked us to arrange whatever was necessary to facilitate the postpartum period, including documentation.”

“Oh... that sheet... was it the certificate? I thought it was a standard hospital document.” the nurse nodded affirmatively and Andy sighed, it would be one less thing to worry about. At the same time, she wanted to kick herself for not reading the document properly, but there was no way she could have without her reading glasses. She put on her best smile before asking the woman a favor. “Could you give this paper to Miranda, please? She'll be coming later to take care of some things... and I'll be with Caitlyn on the other side of city.”

“God, I'm a terrible liar!” Andrea thought, and almost let her smile fade amid her desperation for an almost immediate agreement. She said goodbye to the nurse after handing her a letter addressed to Miranda. Mother and daughter passed through reception quietly, all the papers were already ready and organized, all that was needed was her signature next to that of her former boss, the person financially responsible and also the one who made most of the decisions regarding her stay, which seemed to be deliberately extended. When she turned to put her bag on the shoulder, she recognized at a glance the elegant silver hair among a dozen heads circulating. Miranda Priestly entered the hall looking distracted by something on the phone, and it was as if fate had chosen to give her this moment to sneak out the other side, covered by one of the pillars and a legion of moms about to give birth.

“For God's sake, don't turn around... Please, please...”

Caitlyn tensed and squirmed in her mom's lap, little hands clenching the fabric of her own coat, a grimace that would have been funny in another situation. Andy thought she was going to start crying and ruin their plans to escape the hospital with just a little push from her lungs, so recognizable to the other woman's trained ears, who had already witnessed her recognizing that sound from meters away, a hidden talent. The little girl just gave her a scare with the false alarm, soon melting into the arms and yawning lazily, finally feeling comfortable enough to go back to sleep. Andrea sighed with relief as she watched the little one settle against her and close down, heavy eyelashes and rosy cheeks, she was ready to cry until laziness hit harder.

She turned again to watch the editor walk toward the room she had occupied until minutes ago, a gentle, anxious smile on her lips, rare, too ethereal for her mortal eyes. It destroyed her inside. Consumed by guilt and shame for doing this to Miranda, who had helped her so much and was like a second mom to the baby, to the point that Cait was more attached to her than the person who brought her into the world. Although it warmed her heart, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that Priestly had to take care of her daughter, had to pay the hospital bills and put her important work aside to accompany them, when she could be living her reality as a social predator at the top of New York's fashion elite instead of dealing with the consequences of Andy's misguided choices. She doesn't see Caitlyn as a mistake, never, her daughter is the best and also the most certain thing that has happened in her life so far, however the circumstances in which she was conceived and brought into the world were not the best, one could say they were troubled. She didn't imagine herself being a parent so soon, much less alone, and here she is.

Deep down, the young woman simply didn't feel worthy of Miranda's care after everything she had done. It was a series of mistakes that led her to leave Runaway and, as soon as she glanced at the editor that ironically sunny morning, she realized what she had done. The huge mistake of breaking the woman's trust and abandoning her at the biggest fashion event, when she needed her most. And in the end, she was surprised by Miranda's actions despite everything that had happened. Andy was afraid to let the other woman get close, to hurt her again or to get hurt in the process. She was afraid that Cait would get too used to her presence and that the editor would leave their lives when she had already taken root in both their hearts, which would hurt too much. So she nipped it in the bud and walked away before any more damage was done. Before Miranda realized that Andrea didn't deserve her in her life.

“And this is your city, my love. At least they won't be able to call you a country girl.” she whispered to her daughter as soon as they walked out the hospital doors. The sounds of the metropolis instantly snapped Cait out of her drowsy state, and she opened her little blue eyes, hating the noise pollution around her just as her mom had hated it years before, getting off at a bus station not far from there. "And you didn't like it very much, did you? I think you would like Connecticut.“ the baby squirmed again and shook her head, as if denying it. Andy smiled and covered her as she felt a strong gust of wind, the temperature suddenly dropping, reminding her that the cold season is slowly approaching. ”It's very boring there anyway. So let's go home, little princess."

Andrea walked to the curb and raised her free arm, hailing a taxi. After two men ignored her, a car finally stopped and she gave the address. In half an hour, they were in front of the housing complex. She gave the man the last change she had, and he felt sorry for her, ignoring the cents that were missing to complete the total fare. After a week in a comfortable hospital room with kind company, the flat seemed very cold in comparison. In many ways, there was no one to talk to, share fears, expectations, and daily life with. Talking about Cait. There is no one to take care of her or give her little scoldings about self-care. For a second, she wondered if the decision to run away was the best one, coming to the conclusion that it wasn't, but it's already done and it's not as if they didn't expect something like this from her. Andrea sighs, trying to put all these thoughts aside and focus on the little human in her arms, Caitlyn finally fell asleep.

“You're tough, my love,” she whispers to the baby, praying she won't wake up in her arms as she opens the noisy door. Even though she's calm and doesn't cry as much as other newborns, putting the little girl to sleep can be difficult and tiring. A real challenge.

She settles Cait in the crib and covers her with the fluffy blanket, protecting her from the cold in the apartment, as it was sadly discovered that the old heater in the building broke while she was away. Andrea sits on the bed and looks at her daughter with admiration, running her fingertips over her little head and cheeks, the fine features of her face beginning to define themselves little by little. She can say with certainty that she inherited almost nothing from that miserable man except for her light eyes and hair color.

During her pregnancy, she avoided thinking about Nate. He had been a complete jerk and didn't care about the baby. That last attempt to convince her to have an abortion was the last straw. That's when finally realized that there would be no connection between them anymore. Giving up his rights to their daughter was the best thing he could have done for her. Even though they had been in a relationship for years, most of which were good until they moved to New York, she couldn't imagine a future where they could share and care for a life together. If they were still together, he would probably just be watching her do all the work and complaining about something. That's what their relationship had become over the years. And only now, after holding her little girl in her arms and feeling a love so intense she can't even describe it, does she realize what it was doomed to be, because it wasn't love. It probably was at some point, but it wasn't the overwhelming love she had read about in romance novels or anything like that. It was a youthful love that became a commitment. They started dating in their late teens, and when the new phase of their lives, college, began, everyone expected them to be together in it, so they did. And they ended up together. She never questioned the relationship or where it was going, not even when everyone around her seemed to be growing up and putting down happy roots while she had to return to her lifeless apartment and a long-term relationship without passion or dedication. So it was no surprise that she was easily enchanted by the world of Runaway, where she felt more alive than ever before. Nate noticed and didn't know how to deal with his girlfriend experiencing something more in life than the monotony he offered her, hoping she would accept it willingly.

Despite all the bad, something beautiful and wonderful came out of this failed relationship. Caitlyn Miriam Sachs.

“Well, this is your home, my love,” Andrea murmurs and begins to unpack the bag. “It's not as good as you deserve, but you know, it's hard. This is our home... Or not... I don't know yet, I hope I can find a better home. Maybe with a garden,” she began to ramble, a little excited by the idea.

Soon everything is in place, Cait's toys and souvenirs arranged on the separate dresser to be a personal corner for the baby. Finally, she folds the clothes, admiring each one, and stores them in the same dresser with great care and affection. She prepares the next change of clothes for her daughter, a printed romper that Miranda gave her. It was baby pink with floral prints, so simple and cute at the same time. If it were up to Nigel, he would turn his goddaughter into a mini model and dress her gracefully like a doll in a shop window. Finally, she decided to organize Caitlyn's documents, putting them in a folder. She skimmed through the medical reports, shuddering as she remembered the seconds that could have meant her daughter's death and how lucky she was that there were no lasting effects. The last sheet was the birth certificate, printed on heavier, textured paper, with her daughter's name in large letters at the top.

Caitlyn Miriam Priestly.

“Priestly? What the hell?” she almost shouted and reread the entire document, reviewing every part she hadn't read when she signed it. Under second parent, next to Andrea's name is Miranda's. And below are both their signatures.

Andy felt dizzy, as if she were about to faint, staring at that set of letters that made Caitlyn Miranda Priestly's legal daughter.

“Priestly...”

Chapter Text

Miranda smiles genuinely as she looks at one of the photos Nigel gave her that morning, a Polaroid of the two women with Caitlyn in the middle, wrapped in a fluffy blanket that makes her look impossibly small. The record of her first day of life is yet another photo she keeps in her wallet alongside one of the twins as babies and one of her mother, which she has carried for decades. She quickly put it away before entering the hospital room, looking up for the first time since arriving at hospital, only to find the bed empty. Somewhat disbelieving, took a few steps back to check the number and frowned because she was in the right room. She had memorized the layout of the large building and could find her way around blindfolded. The only thing there, besides the lifeless materials and furniture, is the nurse who had been supporting them over the last few days, changing the sheets. Upon noticing her presence, she smiles and stands up excitedly, but the editor does not smile back. Samantha steps back, confused by the change in mood and the tension that builds in a matter of seconds.

“Where's Andrea?” she whispered, trying to hide the anger behind the usually controlled voice. She could rip someone's head off without feeling remorse if it gave her plausible explanations for Sachs' absence.

“Oh, your fiancée and little Cait have already been discharged.” she knew that very well, being there to take them home. “She said you’re very busy, so asked me to give you this.” the nurse shrugged and handed her the paper that was in her pocket.

“Why the hell didn't anyone tell me?” Miranda let out a growl. In addition to anger, she began to be overcome with indignation. How could they not have told her? How could Andy leave and take the little being she had learned to love without even saying goodbye? In one swift motion, grabbed the damn piece of paper she already hated without even knowing what it contained. "Gather any belongings they left here. My fiancée can be a little careless; she didn't even tell me she was going home."

“Of course!” Samantha perked up again and began to gather all the forgotten items belonging to the mother and daughter, finding a couple of changes of clothes on top of the wardrobe and a baby blue blanket that had been sent to the laundry after the newborn vomited. She was happy to have found it, as the little girl doesn't sleep very well without it, almost like a favorite toy. “Ma'am...” She turned to hand her the things, finding the door empty.

Miranda hates running. She still remembers the arguments with her physical education teacher when he wanted her to run laps around the track, and when she had to make sure she was in French class after work, she hated the feeling of being in pursuit of something or racing against time. That's how she felt as she took long strides to the reception desk, racing against time, feeding a glimmer of hope that Andrea would still be there, perhaps busy closing the hospital paperwork, only to be disappointed when the receptionist told her that the young woman had left a few minutes ago. Then there was a second marathon between the floors that separated her from the sidewalk. Instantly, she hated herself for wearing heels; she could have caught the taxi in a matter of seconds. She wanted to scream, to kick, but suddenly the words escaped and a knot formed in the back of her throat, stuck on Andrea's name. She stopped at the curb, watching the yellow vehicle drive away and disappear into the busy city traffic.

She sighed in defeat. Desperate. Sad. With a sudden emptiness in the chest. Then threw her bag on the floor in exasperation and pulled her hair back in sheer frustration. Unable to do anything, she watched Andrea Sachs leave her life again, this time after taking deeper root in her heart and bringing light with the arrival of that baby. She already imagined a near future, one in which she was part of their lives. Andrea had won a place in her heart, bigger than anyone before, bigger than Hunter or Stephen. And she had cultivated this feeling in the editor's heart since she walked through the doors of the Runaway office, not only in hers, but in the girls' as well, who found themselves liking an assistant for the first time in their lives and missed her as much as their mom did. Deep down, what she wants most is just to be close to the two of them, as if she needed their presence for life to function properly.

Priestly returned to the hospital, finding Samantha waiting for her, smiling without realizing what had just happened, with the bag of belongings in one arm and the blanket in the other.

“Mrs. Priestly...”

“That's all, Samantha!” She quickly grabs the items and turns around, determined.

Miranda put on her usual, long-forgotten sunglasses, covering any sign of her impending emotional breakdown, not wanting anyone else to see her in this vulnerable state. Turning on the heels, she lifted her gaze, turned up her nose, and walked down the hall, trying to ignore the painful image of other moms with their babies, families taking their little bundles of joy home together. She also tried to ignore the growing urge to cry as she remembered the moments shared in that hospital room for two weeks, the “staged” fantasy of two moms with their new baby, sharing the joys of motherhood.

“Roy, do you remember Andrea’s address?”

“She changed her address, ma'am.” he sighs and starts the car as soon as his boss settles into the back seat. “Miss Charlton and I went there when we went to pick up clothes for her…”

“… And that's why you had to buy them.”

“Yes, but these apartments usually ask former residents for their new address when they sign the termination of their lease.” Miranda's face lit up and she immediately contacted the substitute assistant, demanding Andrea's current address within a couple of minutes, which she received in less than a minute after ending the call. Frowning, she found the address strange. “Ah... I think today you're going to see the other side of town.” Roy smiled and started driving.

Miranda took a deep breath and accepted her fate. Anything to get them back seemed small now. She took the Polaroid out of her wallet and admired the smiling face of her former assistant. How, even after a complicated delivery, did she look so radiant holding their little bundle of joy? Her big brown eyes filled with emotion, skin slightly flushed, hair poorly combed giving her an almost wild appearance and so beautiful at the same time. But her focus went straight to the full, red lips, extremely inviting, the lips she fought against her own desires not to take in a warm, passionate kiss, to make her hers once and for all and finally taste sin. She smiled and traced the young woman's face with her fingertip, appreciating every little detail. Leaving the photo under her legs, the editor picked up the letter Samantha had given her as soon as she arrived at the hospital. She was afraid to open it, even Miranda Priestly, who is afraid of nothing, but she is afraid of losing them both permanently, of every handwritten word expelling her from their lives. Carefully, she opened the paper, quickly scanning the perfect handwriting and reaching the top, where her name is engraved, taking a deep breath before beginning to read.

"Miranda,

I have no idea how to start this letter, nor do I know if there is a correct way, but it is necessary. I am grateful for every second you were there and every gesture you made. I will never be able to repay you for all the dedication and affection you showed us. Someday I will be able to repay the financial debt, but I cannot say the same for the emotional one. You turned my days, which were destined to be dark, into days full of light. I feel a little guilty saying this, because Caitlyn's birth should have brightened my entire miserable life, a miserable life that only made sense when I held her in my arms for the first time, felt that it was real, and had you by my side. Imagining this moment without you seems to make it less full of flourishes and sweetness. I had someone to share it with. Someone to support me. Someone to love her besides me, and for the first time in almost a year, I felt protected. God, I've never felt this way before and I wanted to live immersed in this feeling, but I can't, it doesn't belong to me. After much thought, I came to the conclusion that I don't deserve any of this, I only caused chaos and abandoned you when you needed someone by your side the most. I owe you a thousand apologies and to this day I regret the stupid things I did. I'm just not good enough. I hope that someday you will forgive me. Caitlyn and I will miss you. Soon I will send you updates about our little princess. I can't wait to see her grow up, and I hope she continues to have your beautiful eyes. See you soon!

With love, Andrea Sachs."

Andrea was fooled by Caitlyn's half-hour nap. She is about to open her laptop to look for something to work on and pay the month's rent when the small room is filled with little grumbles that soon turn into loud cries. She immediately picks up the little girl, rocks her and tries to feed her, checks and changes diapers, tries all the tricks the nurses taught her to relieve colic, but nothing works. The baby continues to cry, sometimes almost closing her sleepy eyes as she is rocked back and forth, then suddenly opening them as if something very serious is wrong. She wondered if it was the environment, so different from the one the baby had been accustomed to, a calm, quiet, and safe environment, to suddenly be in a shoebox with possible mold on the ceiling and street noise that penetrated the thin, fragile raw brick walls. After a while, the neighbors started complaining through them. Andy rolled her eyes as if she had never put up with worse noises from them, such as the fights of the couple downstairs, the sexual encounters of the woman in front who seems to have a different partner every week, or the bratty children of the building manager, who lives right next to her flat.Once, while searching for maternity items late at night, Andrea read about skin-to-skin contact and its importance for babies, calming them, reducing crying and stress, helping to stabilize blood pressure, heart rate, and breathing. It also keeps the baby warm. She took off her shirt and bra, leaving only sweatpants on, and laid her daughter's little head against the chest. Cait quickly snuggled up, liking it better than the strange feeling of being in the crib. Soon she returned to low, tearful grunts, which was already progress considering the crying minutes before, and the woman smiled when she realized that she was almost giving in to sleep. Andy smiled when she realized that even when tired, her daughter could be extremely stubborn, born to contradict and get what she wanted. She should have imagined that it would be like this, because even in the womb she always bossed Andy around. In the sixth month, she wanted to eat fries and the baby made her throw up everything in seconds. If she wanted to sleep a certain way, the little girl would force her to change position. She could hardly count how many nights she had spent awake trying to please her so she would let her sleep. Caitlyn grumbled and kicked, wanting her mom to adjust her position. She quickly laid her down, still keeping her snuggled against her bare chest, and took the opportunity to cover her with the blanket again.

“I still can't believe you're a Priestly, literally." it's still strange to think of her daughter with her former boss's last name, and at the same time it seems to fit so well, so natural. “Caitlyn Priestly... Sachs is acceptable, it's hard to find any Sachs lost out there. But Cooper? I can't imagine you as Caitlyn Cooper, neither can I. Imagine if I had married that idiot... now I would be Andrea Cooper, very common, isn't it?! And ugly..."

Talking and physical contact slowly calmed the baby down. Andy was grateful for all the articles she had read, even though most of them weren't very useful. Some websites contradicted each other or said extremely different things that only made her even more confused about pregnancy and raising babies. She was happy that at least one of the tips actually worked and thought the little girl would finally go to sleep, but her big blue eyes stared at her, letting Sachs know that none of that would happen anytime soon. Defying her own mom. She came to the conclusion that it would be better to give up this battle with the baby, knowing that her stubbornness would easily win.

Andy sits down in front of her laptop and turns it back on, opening the website where she usually looks for freelance work. She is relieved to see a good number of open proposals, including some college students looking for someone to do boring work for them. She applies for projects she knows she can do, satisfied that her resume meets the expectations. About to apply for another one, she is interrupted by the noise of the door, loud knocks taking the little girl out of the calm state that took so much effort to achieve after much crying. Caitlyn starts kicking again, grumbling sleepily and irritated by the insistent noise. The knocking continues and she forces herself to get up as she is, unable to risk another crying fit that would end with the building manager with a dozen written complaints in her hands.

“I'm coming!” she shouted and ran, with the baby still lying against her chest, not caring that she was naked from the waist up, feeling terrible even though she had only been back for an hour.

Andrea opens the door expecting to find the building manager, a hypocritical neighbor, or some random salesperson, but not in a million years would she imagine the glorious Miranda Priestly standing in front of her door, at the end of the world and in an area considered dangerous.

“M-Miranda?!” she stammered clichédly, in disbelief.

“I forgive you!”

“What?” she whispers, confused.

“Actually, I don't think I have anything to forgive you for, but if it makes you feel better and convinces you... I forgive you!” the editor continues calmly, trying not to sound out of breath from climbing five flights of stairs in high heels. "And you are more than enough. Andrea, you can't just disappear from people's lives, no, I'm not talking about Paris or anything from the past, you know you don't have to do this alone, all I want is to take care of you and Caitlyn..." Miranda loses her words and chokes as she points to the baby in the young woman's arms, finally noticing her nakedness. Her eyes instantly landing on the barely covered mounds, the protruding belly marked with stretch marks that seem so attractive to her eyes that they almost make her tear up, the pale arms that hold her daughter tenderly, it looks like a scene from a living work of art. Caitlyn senses her presence, squirming for attention, practically throwing the blanket away and leaving her mom more exposed than she already is. The editor swears she could faint right there and wonders if she's staring too much. “Um... your breasts...”

“Oh, it's nothing, it's something I read on the internet. She wouldn't stop crying and refuses to sleep.” Andy stumbles over her words, still shocked by what she had just heard.

“Skin-to-skin contact?” the other nods affirmatively, a little embarrassed. “It worked with the twins, but I don’t think it will work with this little girl.” she takes the blanket out of her bag and approaches, a little apprehensive, before covering the baby and Andy’s body as well. She can't concentrate properly with the privileged view of the young woman's partially exposed breasts. “I don't think you noticed, but she's a creature of habit and is almost obsessed with this special blanket. She can only sleep with it.”

“I think she's spoiled too.”

“A little, I'll admit I'm partly to blame for that.” they both laugh and Andrea makes room for Priestly to enter, suddenly regretting the simple dwelling, smaller than most of Runaway's offices. “I got something on the way for us to have for lunch. We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do.” Andrea agrees and closes the door behind her, not knowing what to think of her former boss wandering around the flat, with a small smile on her lips, without judging her or looking at her with scorn. It's still hard to get used to this version of Miranda Priestly. A version she's starting to fall in love with and is afraid of.

And now there is no escaping this growing feeling. Not when the reason for the feeling has crossed her own comfort zone behind her and is lifting bags, asking what she wants to eat.

Chapter Text

   Miranda's cold eyes wander around the apartment, still trying to get used to the size and the idea of having an entire home in a small room, a room smaller than her own office or even the reception area. Her expression momentarily falls as she imagines the two of them living in this extremely limited and uncharming space, the noise from the street invading the thin structure of the building, an inconvenient noise for those with a newborn. Especially a light sleeper and difficult baby to put to sleep like Caitlyn. She composes herself and turns to the mom and daughter, remembering why she is there. The editor flashes a gentle smile and leaves the bags on the empty space on the desk, wasting no time in taking out the tupperware containers, prepared by her cook, still warm.

“I asked Olga to make you some pumpkin soup with chicken. I read that it's very good for the postpartum period and breastfeeding,” she says quickly, not giving Andy time to say anything. “Give me Caitlyn and eat properly. At the hospital, they told me you barely ate today.”

“Miranda...”

“And no Miranda, I'm not asking for myself, but for Caitlyn. You have to provide her with nutrients.” the brunette sighs and nods positively, a little embarrassed, still not knowing how the older woman can act so naturally and caring even after everything she has done. She adjusts her daughter on the lap and hands her over, immediately placing hands over breasts. “I'll turn around so you can get dressed.”

“Okay.” Andrea agrees and runs to get the shirt she was wearing earlier, putting it on in seconds. “Okay, you can turn around now.” Priestly turns, gaze fixed on her, cheeks red. “Is... am I dirty? If so, I haven't had time to take a proper shower yet.”

“No, no! I was, I mean... you're fine and you smell good, don't worry, and even if you weren't, it's okay. Motherhood is hard.” Miranda backtracks, trying not to stumble over her words as she feels, once again, like a teenager. She can't help but stare at Andy and her structured body, her body covered in small freckles scattered across the back and stretch marks around her waist, marks of love from carrying the little being between them, a beautiful body to admire, and she did not refrain from this privilege. She doesn't want to admit out loud that she was staring at, and drooling over, Andrea Sachs.

"More than I imagined. I'd say it sucks."

"Yes, it sucks." they both laugh and the brunette sighs. "How are you?"

“Tired, a little nauseous, and I feel bloated. Nothing I didn't expect.” the journalist shrugs and opens the tupperware, smiling as she smells the soup, which looks delicious. “Thanks for lunch, I hadn't even thought about eating yet. I lost track of time tidying up Cait's things and making the place minimally tidy. And then..." she stops talking for a few seconds, realizing that she was about to drop the bombshell about the birth certificate and decides to omit this part of the day for now, believing she can solve it on her own, without stressing the editor and getting her into yet another mess in her complicated life "And then, well, you saw how she dominated me."

“Move in with me.”

“What?” Andy asks reflexively, as when one hears something impossible, improbable, or simply something one knows the other person would never say, when one doesn't hear correctly and the question is automatic. And she couldn't believe what she heard in a thousand years.

“Move with me,” Miranda repeats confidently. "With us, the girls and I would love to have you there, they can't stop talking about her. I can take care of you, you don't have to go through this alone, and I won't tire of repeating it." the older woman approaches slowly, trying to read the expressions of a thoughtful Andy. The brunette looks at the baby and reflects deeply, analyzing the situation around her. As proud as she was, she had to admit that the crumbling apartment she had been renting for months was not the most suitable place to care for a baby, where she would not have all the things other children have while growing up, not even a nice and reliable neighborhood to form bonds. "Please."

“All right, for Cait. But I'll pay you back somehow.”

“Don't worry about that, or anything else but her and your health.” Miranda smiles and celebrates internally for finally getting Andrea to give in on something. “We have a deal.”

“We have a deal.” the younger whispers, trying to process what just happened.

“Now eat this soup, I'll get Caitlyn's things and we can pack your bags. Roy is waiting for us in the car.”

“Okay...”

   The cold hits Andrea's face hard and she shivers, realizing that this is only the beginning of one of those freezing New York nights she has had the displeasure of experiencing before, followed by raw snow and blizzards in the dark hours that accompany them. Roy rushes out of the car, holding his hat so it won't be blown away by the wind, and grabs Andy's shoulder bag first, then the two carry-on bags. The young mother presses the blanket against her chest and checks on Caitlyn, who has once again fallen asleep. Who could not fall asleep when Miranda rocked and indulged her every whim, putting her to sleep in a matter of minutes with a few gentle rocking motions, sweet words, and caresses. These moments between them had become natural, something that Andrea realized they would both miss, and it was not fair for her to deny them that. The wind picks up as a warning that she has to go inside soon, and so she does, walking quickly to the car door, where Miranda is already waiting for her and opens the door for both of them, then getting in, joining mom and daughter in the comfortable back seats. Miranda thinks about saying something and breaking the thin layer that has formed since the she agreed to live with her, deciding to give her time as Andrea still seems to be reflecting on the decision. The driver quickly puts the bags in the trunk and also gets in, commenting on how bad the weather is and that a storm is approaching. And so it was the whole way, a silence, not entirely uncomfortable, and the man finding new trivial topics to fill the short trip.

“We're here!” he announces, as if the brunette were unfamiliar with the Priestly residence, and, knowing what his boss wants, he doesn't open the car door for the women as he usually does, going straight to the trunk to get Andy's things.

Miranda thanks heaven for hiring such an observant person and sighs with relief that Roy has picked up on all her little signals so she can have more moments with Andy. She opened her own door and walked around to open Andrea's side, giving her a hand so she could step out onto the sidewalk safely. Andy thanked her and smiled slightly, looking up for the first time since they left the building. The small, unpleasant part of her story, well, she realized she should be grateful to leave it behind, even if only momentarily, and that the second chance she had been given was to be used in the best way possible. And so she would. She also intended to regain Miranda's trust once and for all, to prove herself worthy.

“I've already sent a message to Emily and she'll take care of the pending issues with your old apartment. Your rooms have also been prepared, in the same hallway as mine, in case you need anything.” Miranda begins to speak, quickly leading her to the entrance of the house, noticing the sky darkening in the late afternoon.

"Rooms? Plural?"

"Yes, two rooms. Caitlyn's is attached, an old closet that has been renovated." she replies simply, trying to ignore the shock on the journalist's face.

   It had been almost eight months since Andrea had last entered that house, and the fact that almost nothing had changed did not surprise her. Despite being a revolutionary woman in her field and a true social ace, Miranda Priestly is a woman of habits with a safe place to be herself, and that place is her home. Where she sits in front of the fireplace at the end of the night with a glass of wine in her hand while reading and reviewing the book, where she can spend time with her daughters, having dinner while listening to them chatter for hours about Harry Potter. And she was invited to this personal and sacred den, an honor for anyone who knows or has heard of the Dragon's fame. Without even realizing it, she finds herself climbing the stairs following the older woman while Roy carries the bags behind them. Caitlyn's room is the first one they visit. It is larger than the apartment she lived in until an hour ago, with a white crib in the center, pink and lilac pastel blankets, a small stuffed bunny in the corner of the furniture, a changing table in the corner, an open wardrobe with hangers for dresses, some already hung up, and in the corner, a nursing chair, apparently soft and comfortable. What caught her attention were the two doors, one at each end of the room. The editor couldn't help but notice the question on her face.

“The door on the right is your room and the other is mine, so we can both take care of Caitlyn.”

“Oh.”

   Andrea would never get used to all the support she receives from Miranda, the person who has no commitment to her but acts more like family than her own family, the people who ignored her because of a breakup and don't even know their granddaughter exists. Months alone and struggling to survive have accustomed her to having everything on her back, to not sharing responsibilities, to not knowing how to share what she goes through or what she feels. Miranda takes the baby from her lap and puts her in the crib, so naturally that she can't help but admire the scene, warming her heart as she finally realizes and accepts that she is not alone and that there is someone who loves and cares for the girl as much as she does. Caitlyn's sleep was not disturbed; she just continued to sleep as if she had not taken a car trip through the city and climbed three flights of stairs, all in her mom's arms, with whom she had fought earlier. Perhaps it was Miranda's mere presence that made her calm and content.

“God, she prefers you and doesn't even hide it.”

“What can I do if children adore me?” the editor laughs and shrugs. “And now I'll show you YOUR room.”

   Miranda leads her to the adjoining door, looking somewhat apprehensive, unsure if everything is as planned, and she is right to be suspicious, because as soon as she opens the door, she is confronted with two redheads running back and forth. And Roy in the middle, trying to put the bags somewhere, but too lost in the twins' mess to find his way. Andy laughs at the situation, remembering when she was in his place dealing with the girls who seem to run on batteries, it was so tiring and fun at the same time.

“ANDY!” they shout in unison and receive a shhh from their mom, reminding them of the baby in the other room. “Is Cait here?” Caroline quickly adds, her eyes shining with anticipation at the prospect of seeing the baby again.

“Has she grown?” Cassidy asked next, without giving the women time to answer, and continued, “Can we hold her?”

“Did she like the bunny? I picked it out.”

“That's so sweet, girls,” Andrea whispers and wraps them in a triple hug, holding them tightly against her body. “Did you get everything ready?”

“Uh-huh!” they chirp proudly. “Roy picked us up from school early to help.”

“It looks beautiful! I love everything, absolutely everything!”

   She looks around and smiles at the overly colorful decorations they made, with vibrant colors and random character stickers scattered across the furniture, even on the headboard, where she counted at least a dozen Barbie stickers. Above it is a white banner with her name in large hand-painted letters with a heart next to it. Plushies are scattered on the double bed, where they had started to tidy up for the brunette's arrival.

“Girls, now let Andrea rest, please. Later you can spend time with her, with Caitlyn too.” the twins obey their mom and break free from Andy's embrace, each receiving a pat on the head before running out, disappearing into the immensity of the residence.

Roy leaves the bags at the end of the bed and withdraws with a quick wave, leaving the women alone. Silence hangs in the air again, a thin layer of tension and hundreds of unspoken words. They can hear the girls' footsteps on the stairs, the open windows banging against the wall, and the clouds rumbling a mile away. Miranda takes a step forward, approaching slowly, looking for any sign of retreat before continuing her small steps until she is just a few inches away.

“Andrea...”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

Andrea sighs and before she can start another argument about how she doesn't deserve it or gets more than she deserves, the editor silences her with a simple glance, sensing what she was about to say. And finally, she just smiles shyly.

“I want to and must thank you for everything. What you have done and continue to do for Caitlyn and me is incredible. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.“ she takes advantage of their closeness and takes Miranda's right hand, bringing it to her. ”And for forgiving me."

   Miranda smiles and affectionately squeezes the other woman's hand, thumb stroking the top in gentle circles. She loses herself in the moment for a few seconds, distracted by the texture and softness of the pale skin. Just above, on the wrist, there is a mark from the IV, still reddish. She wonders if Andrea left the hospital too soon. She had to replenish fluids and glucose days before practically fleeing the hospital. This worries her, and her protective instinct takes over. Without even realizing it, she brings Andy's wrist to her lips and kisses it, leaving a perfectly defined mark of red lipstick. Then she kisses the palm of her hand and looks up to find two chocolate-colored eyes fixed on her with pure admiration, lips parted, shocked by her sudden actions. Miranda smiles and moves even closer, as if drawn by a magnet, a magnet completely in love with Andrea Sachs. Andy feels the same way, moving toward her without even realizing it. So close that they can feel each other's breath, their eyes meet as they admire each other thoroughly, and in a single movement, Priestly seals their lips together.

Chapter Text

   Andrea doesn't react immediately, her mouth frozen in pure shock. Never in a thousand years would she have imagined she would be there, in Miranda Priestly's house, kissing her. Perhaps in her deepest dreams, which always seemed extremely utopian before this moment, it was because it seemed so utopian that she doesn't react. The contact lasts a few seconds until the editor notices the young woman's lack of reaction and pulls away, overcome by the fear of having taken too big a step for the short time she managed to get close. Before she could get away from Andy, she was pulled by the wrist by her and stared into chocolate eyes, confused and pleading, staring, then she is pulled against her, feeling the softness and sweetness again, this time not a clumsy peck but a deep kiss, passion making itself present in every movement and moan. Miranda asks permission with tongue to enter and makes the kiss more intimate when it is granted. She runs her hands through the dark locks, intertwining her fingers in the strands and leading them to the edge of the bed, where she sits with Andrea on her lap, never leaving her lips. The Miranda of almost a year ago would have found this scene impossible and her actions too adolescent for a woman approaching fifty. A woman clinging to a much younger woman as if she were in high school, her hands possessively holding another body, one on the back of her neck and the other on her waist, as if letting go would mean she would be gone forever and the moment would end completely.

   And when Miranda blinks, everything ends as she feared, realizing she is in a waking dream, deliberately still staring. The moment completely falls apart like a big crash back to reality, a bucket of cold water thrown directly in her face. She looks away to the probably sore wrist, struggling not to kiss the spot, contenting herself with just caressing it.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, running her thumb over the red spot. Andrea shudders and doesn't need to answer. “I'll get some ointment.” she practically runs through the hallways to find some in the bathroom cabinet, relieved to still have some left over from when she burned herself cooking weeks earlier. Meanwhile, Andy remains static in the same place, staring at the spot where she was being touched moments before, the sensation of touch still lingering, warm and familiar, as if it were something normal between them. “Here you go, sit down.”

   Miranda guides her to the edge of the bed, helping her sit down on the soft mattress, and doesn't miss the surprise on the younger's face at the softness of the furniture, smiling at her cute little reaction. She had chosen that bed for this very reason, knowing that softness can help her sleep better. The first months of motherhood can be stressful, marked by sleep deprivation, and a quality bed can make those few hours more comfortable. They exchange a simple smile before the editor kneels between the taller's legs, taking the wrist in her left hand and opening the tube with the other, applying the cold cream to the needle mark and the small bruise around it. Andrea shudders again, this time in a good way, relief washing over her skin. When she left the hospital she barely noticed the small bruise and didn't pay much attention to it while cleaning the apartment; being cared for is something strange. Despite growing up in a loving home, the Sachs barely saw their daughter as she grew up, becoming more present in her teens, when she met Nate, it wasn't much different. It was as if they were roommates who had sex from time to time, each with their own lives, problems and goals. And the woman, whom she never imagined would one day worry, is taking care of her in small details, not only her, but also Cait and her whole life, providing her with shelter and a stable environment for this delicate moment in life that is the postpartum period and the adaptation of a new mom.

“Thank you...” she whispers, holding back a moan of pleasure at the refreshing sensation of the ointment against skin. “That feels good.”

“I know, I used it for a week after burning myself in the kitchen, it also has healing properties.” Priestly finishes rubbing the cream and reluctantly leaves Andy's wrist, but remains in the same position, losing her gaze in the autumn spheres that stare at her with admiration. “What is it?”

“N-nothing, I was just staring?” she laughs nervously to herself, trying to avert her face from the editor's eagle-eyed gaze so she won't notice how flushed she knows she is, suddenly more shy. “Sorry, I still have to get used to this Miranda Priestly.”

"Oh, and is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Well, it's just strange to go from being a subordinate who came and went unnoticed to a guest in less than a year." Andrea shrugs and looks the woman in the eye again "I'm surprised."

“Me too.” Miranda whispers and stands up, feeling her knees cry out for help after spending so much time crouching and wearing high heels. “Well, there's a bathroom connected to the bedroom, you can take a bath and a nap if you want. Don't worry about Caitlyn, I'll keep an eye on her, I'll call you if anything happens. Tomorrow you can unpack."

"I can..."

"An-dre-ah." the woman interrupts her and uses the tone she used when they were boss and employee, reproachfully "You need to rest, sleep is important for peaceful breastfeeding, Caitlyn is a demanding baby."

"Okay, I'll try to rest."

   The editor smiles with satisfaction, mentally noting to use this tone again when trying to convince her, as it seemed to have an easy effect and announces her departure to give her privacy, which she agrees to, still unsure how to react to all the situations. As soon as Miranda leaves, she practically throws herself on the bed, letting out all the air she didn't even realize she was holding near the woman who makes her embarrassingly nervous, just like 10 years ago when she was a teenager discovering her emotional life, as well as all the stomach-churning feelings that are part of being in love. Andrea feels sickened by the conclusion, her feelings have been swept under the rug for months and in the last few days she has tried to ignore that obvious little pile, she can no longer deny that her heart feels something very strong for her former boss and beats faster when she is near her. And, for God's sake, this scares her a lot, mainly because she doesn't know how Miranda would react if one day these feelings came to the surface, that she wouldn't see her in that way, beyond a friendship, she wouldn't desire her in the same way that she desires her. These thoughts take over her mind as she bathes, washing the sweat and fatigue from her body. The hot water makes the brunette feel so relaxed that sleep overtakes her under the shower, like a reality check for her muscles and brain, which have been working overtime for the last few days after bringing a human being into the world and with all the worries about the future haunting her.

   Andrea wakes up with a start at the loud noise of a phone call, the annoying ringing echoing in the dark room. She can't find her bearings in the dim light coming from the street. After a few minutes and many bumps into the edges of the furniture, she turns off the phone when it comes up as an unknown number, the screen transformed into a makeshift flashlight to find the light switch. The first thing that crosses her mind is to check on her daughter, worried that she practically fainted and didn't hear any crying or movement, full of guilt for feeling so reckless, even though Miranda assured her she could rest, but she thinks she overdid it by sleeping from early afternoon until early evening. The sky, once dark blue, is now painted gray, decorating the metropolis. She runs to the adjacent room, still unaccustomed to the new, safe, and large environment, and doesn't know what to think when she sees the empty crib. In the corner of the room, the changing table appears to have been used, with ointment and talcum powder left there, and the newborn's dirty clothes placed in the laundry basket next to it. Caitlyn's scent dominates the room, like a persistent and soothing perfume for the young mom's heart. Knowing that she has been changed and probably already fed comforts her, easing some of the internalized guilt and anxiety of the few hours of separation.

   The Priestly house is remarkably quiet for a place with two temperamental children and a baby who seems to share the same personality. The brunette descends the stairs carefully, as she used to do when she worked at Runway and had to leave the book at the end of the night. The two upper floors seem completely empty, with no sign of life, not even Cait's grumbling or the chatter of the talkative twins. If the hallway lights were off, she would have cried out of fear; it would seem like a fancy version of a haunted house. But when she reached the ground floor, there was an immediate sense of relief upon hearing the girls' voices, a little lower than usual but with the same excitement, talking to each other and their mom. She concluded this upon hearing Miranda's response that dinner was almost ready. Andrea sneaks into the kitchen, knowing the way by heart from so many times she has walked through it on her nightly walks, and a smile appears on her full lips as she witnesses the cute scene, her eyes tearing up with emotion. She blames the hormones running high, knowing that she would probably cry anyway, at any moment.

   Caroline and Cassidy are sitting at different points on the counter, notebooks on the surface as they help each other with their homework, and, to Andy's shock, the powerful Miranda Priestly is in front of the stove stirring the pot, Caitlyn on her lap strapped into a cloth kangaroo, sleeping comfortably without caring about the movement around her. A scene she never imagined would happen during pregnancy, a support network that resembles a family, a scenario as natural as if it were a routine to which they were all accustomed. It squeezes her heart, the fear of losing them spreads through her being, the morning's events replay in her head like a movie, she had run away and almost deprived her daughter of the attention and affection of the three. Miranda doesn't see her, her back to the door where Andrea leans against the frame, humming a few lullabies to the baby. From time to time, the girls ask their mother a few questions.

“Andy!” Cassidy almost shouts when she notices the brunette's presence and gets up, followed by her sister, to hug her. “I wanted to wake you up, but Mom said you were tired. You even snored. I'm sure the noise woke Cait up.” she pouts as she wraps her arms around the young woman's waist.

   Miranda laughs behind them, analyzing the scene and noting the obvious: her daughters can be dramatic.

“Cait woke up because she filled her diaper, don't worry, Andrea.” she reassures and turns off the stove, turning her full attention to them. “But you really did snore, you sounded like you were sleeping well, I was a little jealous.” Andy and the girls laugh, Caroline has to hide her face against the journalist's body to hold back her laughter. “Girls, set the table, dinner is ready.”

“Okay, Mom!” they reply and run to the dining room to set the table, eager to eat pasta with meatballs, their favorite dish.

“It smells good,” Andy compliments and approaches, standing a meter away from the eldest, analyzing the bundle of joy clinging to her, lying quietly against her chest, using her as a pillow. “Did she give you a lot of trouble?”

“None, she's an adorable, well-behaved little girl.” and there's no lie in that. At no point, except when she woke up, did Caitlyn cry. She just enjoyed the afternoon in Miranda's lap, receiving attention.

“Close to you.” she adds. “I'm sorry, I overslept. I didn't even know I was that tired.”

“It's normal, you just had a baby, you were still on alert like a lioness, but we're here to help you. Don't feel guilty for being human.” she whispers the last part and puts her hand on her arm, comforting. They exchange gentle glances before the baby between them decides to wake up, grumbling as she awakens from a good night's sleep.

“Hello, little lady.” Andrea approaches her daughter, who instantly starts crying, fully awake. “Calm down, my love, Mommy's here. Do you hate me that much?”

“She doesn't hate you, dear. She's just hungry. You know, refused the bottle after a few feedings. She realized it wasn't you. See, she misses you." the affectionate name slips by, both trying to ignore the word and the tenderness with which it was said. Andy smiles at the small victory, while Miranda manages to reassure her, omitting the information that the baby drank two full bottles in the middle of the afternoon.

“This girl is a opportunist, that's for sure.” the two work together to undo the kangaroo and the editor helps her sit down so she can position Caitlyn for breastfeeding. She passes the fabric over the younger's body, tying it in the same way so she can breastfeed peacefully. “Thank you, she seems to like that.” Andrea notices when her daughter seems to calm down a little when she is secured in the kangaroo and feels the bulge of her mom's full breasts. Andy pulls her shirt down, revealing her breast, and the baby instantly latches on, remaining completely calm in that position while she feeds.

"Um, what would you like to eat?" Miranda looks away from the scene, her face flushing as she realizes that she is wearing nothing but her shirt. "I made pasta Bolognese, but there are leftovers from lunch soup and some steaks. I also made Caesar salad in case you wanted something lighter."

"Pasta is perfect for me. I didn't realize you cooked, everything smells and looks wonderful."

“It's not like I have a lot of time, but I enjoy it and the girls love to eat, it's become a special moment.” at that instant, as if they knew they were being talked about, the twins appear, smiling from ear to ear.

“Cait is also having dinner.” Caroline jokes and opens the refrigerator, grabbing a jug of orange juice. “Table ready, mommy.”

“Let's have dinner, Andy. Today is a special day.” before she could ask them about the special day, the editor kicks them out of the kitchen, telling them to wait at the table and that dinner would be served soon.

   The girls sit side by side at the six-seat table, placing napkins on their laps and eagerly waiting to eat. Andrea sits across from them, next to what she assumes is Miranda's place based on the arrangement. In less than a minute, the woman appears at the door with a medium-sized pot in her hands, held by colorful protective gloves, a Mother's Day gift from last year. Andrea smiles at the homely sight of the famous Ice Queen. Miranda serves her daughters first, both of whom were eager for dinner and probably hungry, then Andy, asking how much she wants and insisting on putting a little more on her plate when she sees the small portion she has asked for, then serves herself. In the meantime, Caitlyn falls asleep while eating, but remains in her mom's lap, showing signs of restlessness when they try to take her away. The twins drink fresh juice and offer some to the brunette, while their mom limits herself to drinking water. Her meals were always accompanied by wine, but she refuses to drink near the baby and out of respect for Andy, who will have to stay away from alcohol for months. The atmosphere is calm, light, and familiar. The girls talk about their day, their plans for the next day, how perfect Caitlyn is.

“I'm pretty sure she smiled at me." Cassidy boasts to everyone, telling them how it was to hold the baby. “She knows I'm her older sister.”

“But I was born first! You're the middle sister.” the sisters begin to exchange barbs and stick out their tongues until their mom scolds them, reminding them of the brunette's presence at the table, along with a lecture on manners.

“Sorry, mommy. She really smiled at me, she's so cute."

“She loves you both.” Andrea ends their dispute with that, peace returning as everyone goes back to eating. “What special day were you talking about?” she asks, remembering the quick conversation in the kitchen, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, today, you and Cait came to live with us.” Caroline replies as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and she were silly for not knowing. “It's our special day.”

“Oh...”

“I know, it's very exciting to be a Priestly.” the other twin jokes and cups her hands under the chin.

“I don't know what to say, thank you so much for letting me stay with you and for this special welcome.” with difficulty keeping her voice from breaking, Andy manages to thank them and wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes.

   Miranda reaches under the table and places her hand on the younger's free hand, holding it gently, thumb caressing her palm. Once again that night, they exchange soft glances, now full of affection, as they finish their meal. The same thought in their minds, shared by similar insecurities and hearts beating faster than normal from a touch exchanged for the rest of the night. Hope blossoming in both of them.

Chapter Text

   Even after living in the metropolis for so long and being used to crossing streets amid a swarm of people, Andrea feels strange as she stares at the pedestrian signal across the street, red, signaling that pedestrians are not allowed to cross, which some hurried and distracted people seem to ignore, risking their lives among taxis and luxury cars. For a second, the brunette wonders if she should renew her driver's license, which is about to expire, obtained when she left high school and never used since leaving her hometown. Except for the times she had to take Miranda's sports car when she was still her assistant, either to pick up an urgent collection or to pick up Patricia at the pet shop. And that's what she's doing now, this time without the pressure of the schedule and the possibility of losing her job over a mistake. During breakfast, something she is still trying to get used to seeing the editor so comfortable drinking tea at the kitchen counter and eating baguettes before work, Miranda commented that she had forgotten to tell the assistants to have one of them pick up the family pet, about to call Emily since Patricia hated the new girl and even threatened to bite her when she took her to an appointment. Mother and daughter have been staying at the Priestly house for exactly a week, having all their needs met and more than she thinks she really deserves. It's hard for the young woman to feel useful when breakfast is served before she's fully awake, dirty clothes magically disappear and reappear clean and ironed, all the housework is done by the two maids while Andrea tries to run after them trying to help with something. Olga sometimes lets her help in the kitchen in a limited way, without knives, without getting too close to the stove. Even though the owner insists that she doesn't need to do anything but enjoy motherhood, something Andy also has constant help with, they just can't stay away from the temperamental little doll. So this was her chance to feel useful for at least one day, asking, no, begging to be able to pick Patricia up since she has the mornings free, using the argument of lightening the workload of Emily, who has barely recovered her right leg after that accident, and only convincing her by saying that going for a walk could be good for the baby. Deep down, she has no idea, but took a chance and succeeded using her best begging face.

“You love to sleep, don't you?!” Andrea whispers to her daughter with a small smile on her lips, stroking the tufts of hair peeking out from under the woolen hat.

   It's a particularly cold day, the wind blows against her body and almost makes her take a step back at times. Andy is grateful that she dressed warmly before leaving home and put extra layers of clothing on Cait. The fabric of the baby carrier also helps keep her warm in the freezing New York air at 9 a.m. When she saw Miranda wearing it, she loved it. It's practical and comfortable for breastfeeding, and she can keep her close while doing other things. The carrier gradually became a great ally, and the editor noticed, showing up with dozens of different colored and patterned ones the day before. One of them is baby pink, the perfect size for carrying a newborn. Although she is already a few weeks old, Caitlyn has not shown significant growth or fast weight gain.

   Suddenly, Andrea feels herself being dragged along by the crowd and only then notices the open sign, having to pull herself together so as not to fall when she bumps into some of these people. Instinctively, she hugs the baby close to her body, afraid that something might happen to them because they are there. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to walk; Roy was going to pick her up to go to the pet shop after dropping off his boss at Runway, but Andrea couldn't wait and left a few minutes after the pair. Stubbornness comes at a price. In a few seconds, she is on the other side, in front of an internet café, which is the reference point for where she should go. In two blocks, they will reach their destination. The rest of the way is smooth, with no more incidents or rude people who could easily knock them down.

   Andrea feels vulnerable and ten times more alert than usual, slowing her pace at every corner to check on her daughter, relieved that she is so sleepy and well-behaved. At a slow pace, they arrive in a few minutes and the receptionist remembers her, chattering excitedly about how everyone missed her, claiming that Emily is very impatient and Sarah, the new assistant, is too inexperienced and Patricia doesn't like her. They talked for a few minutes and she quickly introduced the girl, until the groomer appeared with the pet. She dragged him by the leash and managed to knock him over when she saw Andy after so many months, running towards the young woman and sniffing something he found strange, Caitlyn. Tension hangs in the air, everyone ready to intervene if the worst were to happen in this interaction that no one had thought about, but the Saint Bernard smells her guardian on the little creature and sits in front of them, wagging her tail in approval, drooling with delight at finally going home after spending two weeks away. Previously, the dog had been staying at Nigel's house. Miranda wanted to ensure that Patricia and Caitlyn could live together in the same home without risk, which meant training and adaptation to the structure of the house in the meantime, since the pet is energetic and somewhat too affectionate with children.

"Come on, big girl! You did a great job with her." Andrea smiles as she sees the big, furry adult Saint Bernard wearing a pink bandana around neck and a little gold glitter star on head, just like in many of the photos from when she was a puppy.

   Patricia is used to the way home, having made the journey dozens of times, so it's easy to guide her through the streets. It's also a relief that people avoid approaching them because of the dog's frightening size, and she clears a path through the crowd, making the previously terrifying and torturous walk peaceful and safe.

   Andrea takes advantage of the outing to see those places she hasn't been to in months, important and fragmented parts of her past life, the bakery where she used to get fresh bread for breakfast, the internet café where she printed her resumes, and the newsstand where she saw the Runway ad and sent two copies. A month later, she was walking through the glass doors of the luxurious building, wearing her blue sweater, her hair tousled and her hopes high. Now she walks in Louboutins, her hair is a little longer, and she has new hopes, a new future to be written. When they pass in front of the local coffee shop, the baby squirms against her chest and threatens to cry, grabbing her wool sweater in search of food. Even though she is only a month old, the girl already seems to know how to say what she wants, and this type of communication makes it easier for her needs to be met as soon as possible, because in addition to being demanding, bossy, and temperamental, Caitlyn Sachs (Priestly) is impatient. Just like Miranda Priestly. Andrea laughs at the thought that she stopped working for one and started working for a smaller version of the former.

   The new mom sits in one of the outdoor chairs, tying the leash to the table leg. Patricia understands and lies down at her feet, enjoying the break to rest, while Andy runs to feed Cait, awkwardly pulling out her breast so the baby can latch on vigorously. Being in the hospital and then at Miranda's house, she never breastfed in public and never thought about doing so. Even though she is covered by the baby kangaroo and a blanket placed over Caitlyn's head, nothing in sight, some people who pass by give her dirty looks, as if she were committing a crime and lacking modesty. Another moment when she feels vulnerable. Soon the waitress appeared, ready to take the order that Andrea hadn't even thought of asking for. For convenience and to stay at the table, she ordered a natural juice and sweet bread, even though she had eaten well in the morning, a hearty breakfast that the hostess had practically forced her to eat. In a few minutes, the waitress returns with the order, asking if she would like anything else, and leaves when Sachs declines, grateful for the service.

“Well, what is the chic Andrea Sachs doing in these parts?” her body freezes as she recognizes the voice behind her, full of scorn and condemnation. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was after living together for many years.

“Shouldn't you be at some fashion show running after your boss like a little puppy? Or, I don't know, climbing the career ladder like you swore you would?” another voice continued, completing her nightmare. Her hope was that in a city like New York, she could live without having to meet these people again. It was a big mistake to doubt the traps of fate.

“Lily, Doug, I... Please...” she tries to speak, to beg, the words strangled in her throat.

   The two stand in front of her, sitting at the table without invitation. Andrea avoids looking at them, focusing on the little girl in her lap, still feeding without caring about what is happening around them. The man's eyes are immediately drawn to the baby, surprised at her presence in the circle. Lily was more successful in hiding the surprise, avoiding looking at her in her mom's lap. Andy swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at the varnished wood. The juice had been sipped and a third of the bread was left. She can't even finish her meal in peace, she noticed how determined they are to make her morning miserable. Those who were once her friends, Nate's friends actually, but still hung out for years and shared a lot.

“Nate went to Boston months ago and you didn't even have the decency to try to apologize. He was really upset. I don't know how you could be so selfish.” Lily uses an accusatory tone to address her. “Don't you have anything to say?”

“Lily... I don't think this is the best place to talk, nor the best time.” the brunette sighs and tries to control her breathing. She feels her heart beating faster in her chest, and it hurts. It's a distressing feeling she's already used to. “Please...”

“Oh, are you too busy with your super job as a junior assistant?” Doug says ironically, recovering from the shock of seeing his ex-friend with a baby in her arms after months of no contact, the next sentence being thrown out as bait for the question that hammers in his head. “Now you're a nanny too?”

“I want to be left alone, this isn't the best time for this conversation.”

"I knew it, it's yours. How old is this baby?" he stands up in excitement for a split second and sits down again, leaning toward mother and daughter. "How many months? One?Two?"

“Wait! One month?” Lily finally looks and observes the baby in Andrea's lap, a small tuft of black hair visible between the baby carrier and the blanket, her pale little hand clutching the sweater. “You were still together, it's his baby, isn't it?!” no answer. “For God's sake, Andrea! Now you've outdone yourself, hiding his child!?" she gets angry and Andy closes her eyes, nausea taking over her body and a feeling of dizziness. She needs to concentrate, otherwise she will give in. This whole situation is too stressful.

   They continue to accuse her, before it was just for ruining their relationship and friendship, but now also for parental alienation, without imagining what really happened behind the scenes, how cruel he was when he found out they were having a child and how cowardly he was in insisting on an abortion during the phone call that sealed any kind of connection they still had. Even if she tried to tell them, even if she screamed and cried the truths about how everything really happened, neither of them would believe her. Like her parents, they also have an immaculate view of the Chef and would never imagine Nate acting this way. In any case, at the end of the story, she is the villain, according to them, worthy of that title for dedicating herself to her career more than to Friday night dates and her boyfriend, who should support her just as she has always supported him. Due to this lack of communication and excessive judgment, she decides not to even try to explain, too tired for that. Not even her parents listened to her; they haven't spoken to her for at least four months, shortly after the pregnancy was discovered, and Andy tried, giving up after hours of fighting while listening to lecture after lecture. They didn't even ask if their granddaughter or grandson was healthy.

   The Saint Bernard lying at their feet seems aware of the tension in the air, immediately becoming alert, slowly getting up as she watches the movement, sniffing out the threat. Andrea squeezes her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears welling up, painfully charged with fear and anguish. Her hands tremble, becoming increasingly sweaty even though it is cold and windy. The pain in her chest gradually increases in a way she has never felt before. The dog starts barking, drawing their attention. Andrea opens her eyes to find Patricia very close to the couple, both of whom are standing back, dismayed by the animal's sudden change of mood. Now, instead of insults, they yell at her to control her, making the scene even bigger than it already was. The people around them stare at them with curiosity and disapproval. Andy gets up a little awkwardly, struggling to get herself together and get out of there as soon as possible. Caitlyn grumbles in displeasure, already comfortable in her feeding position, and in a matter of seconds begins to cry, screaming her distress at the top of her little lungs. Everything happens very quickly. The dog tries to attack Doug, and Lily lunges forward, pulling the table with her body, which is strong enough to move the furniture. The baby cries louder and louder, deafeningly. Andy fumbles among the fabrics, trying to pull her sweater from under the extra fabrics to cover herself.

   She is about to let the tears fall freely, unable to take any more of the pressure and stress of the situation, when a hand is placed on her lower back, a soft and protective touch. She doesn't even need to turn around to know whose it is. Andrea doesn't even have time to question her presence, too absorbed in the drama.

"Miranda, please, get me out of here. Please!“ she manages to whisper, struggling to breathe properly. ”She's not well. Did I hurt her? Look at her for me." Patricia's barking ceases with the presence of her guardian, everyone around can sense her fear as she looks at her daughter. Deep down, Andrea feels helpless, guilty for not being able to cope and for this affecting Caitlyn.

“She's fine, dear. Don't worry, Caitlyn is just a little agitated.” the woman tries to reassure her, putting her arms protectively around Andy and Cait, and whispers words of comfort as she leads them to the car, leaving her in the back seat where they will be safe. “Stay here, I'll be right back.”

   Andrea realizes she can finally breathe, the confinement of the empty car somehow comforting her, the heat bringing her back to reality, and she dries the tears, relieved that someone has taken her away from that place. The baby stops crying hysterically, leaving only a few whimpers and dry tears on a reddened and desolate face. Andy's heart aches at the sight of her daughter in this state. She gently rocks Cait until she calms down completely, which takes only a few seconds, and then settles her on her lap to breastfeed again, knowing that the milk will help her achieve her goal.

   At a glance, she catches an almost unbelievable scene: a very angry Miranda arguing with the two of them. Lily has her arms crossed over the chest, trying to act scornful, just as she does with her, but she can't keep up the act for long. Doug tries to interrupt the editor a few times without success. In the end, the pair find themselves defeated, like children being scolded by their teacher. Patricia is sitting next to her, still attached to the leash, now in Roy's hands. The man watches the scene with amusement, for the first time without pity for the target of his boss's fury. Miranda ends the argument by throwing money on the table before turning away and ignoring the two trying to respond, followed by the driver and the pet. Andy didn't even realize she was staring, only when she finds that pair of icy blue eyes full of anger melt into tenderness when they see her.

“An-dre-ah.” the reproachful voice doesn't match the woman's expression, confusing her a little. “I told you to wait for Roy, it's dangerous to walk these streets alone, especially with Caitlyn.”

“I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't wait,” the brunette replies between sobs and settles herself on the padded seat, embarrassed. “Everything was fine, I swear, but then they showed up.”

“Those two? Who are they?” the car starts moving, the driver takes one last look at them in the mirror and strokes Patricia's head as he drives to the Priestly residence.

“Friends of...” she refuses to refer to Nate as a father, so she pauses, thinking about how to describe him without using swear words. “Caitlyn's biological... hum, progenitor. We were friends until we ended the relationship, they didn't know about the pregnancy, so they accused me of horrible things.”

“They won't bother you again, I promise.” Miranda wraps her in a warm hug, letting her lay head on her chest and strokes the brown hair, imagining that this will comfort her somehow, since it works with the twins and with herself in situations like this. It does work. Just feeling her touch calms Andy completely, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, all the nausea dissipating. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I think so. Before, I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to faint.”

“I'm pretty sure you just experienced an anxiety attack.” the editor says knowingly, familiar with the symptoms. “I'm here with you.” she moves a few inches away to meet the young woman's dark, still tearful, eyes and gently wipes her face with thumbs, caressing her lightly.

“Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you,” Andrea whispers and gives in to exhaustion, slipping back into the comfortable place she was in before, lying against her ex-boss's chest. “Why did you come after me? And how did you find us?”

"Well, when I got to Runway, I looked up going outside with newborn babies and found out it's only recommended after three months! I didn't know that either. I called Olga to tell you to stay home, she said you had already gone for a walk, I was worried and we used Patricia to find you." Andy stares at her, not understanding exactly how they did that. "She has a tracking chip."

"Oh! I should have guessed."

“Maybe so. So we went after you, I couldn't leave her alone. Besides, the air in this city must be horrible for Cait.” both women smile, and only then does Andrea realize they are almost there. Shortly after, Roy parks in front of the house and gets out of the car, guiding Patricia. “She's almost asleep again, the little girl is sleepier than usual today.”

“And irritable. Cait got frustrated because they interrupted her meal.” the baby seems to know they are talking about her and wakes up, alert. “Her eyes are getting bluer and bluer.”

“That's how it happens, they either darken or lighten, they never stay the same color.” Miranda comments, secretly happy that the baby has eyes as light as hers. She likes the idea that Caitlyn has something of hers, just as the nurses described her, a copy of Andrea with her eyes. "The twins were born with green eyes and gradually turned brown. Their hair was strawberry blonde, but months later it took on orange tones, which was a lovely surprise."

“They must have been such cute babies. But I can't imagine Caroline and Cassidy as blondes.” Miranda agrees, unable to imagine her Bobbseys with any other characteristics than their striking red hair and mischievous brown eyes. “I can't wait to see this little princess grow up.”

“Me neither,” the editor whispers, staring at the bundle of joy curled up against Andrea's chest, so small and so smart. “I love her so much.”

“Me too.”

“And you too.”

They speak at the same time.

“What?”

Chapter Text

“What?”

   An awkward silence falls over the situation. Andrea wants to believe what she just heard and tries to differentiate it from some daydream resulting from her anxiety attack, while Miranda bites her tongue, not wanting to believe she said that and let her thoughts fly higher than they should have. The two stare at each other for a few seconds before the older woman breaks the silence.

“And you too.” she sidesteps the situation, using the fact that the phrases are double meaning to her favor. “I just repeated the obvious. You love her too.”

“Oh!” Andy laughs awkwardly, her hopes crushed faster than they were created, cruelly deceived by her ears. “Well, I think we’re making you late for work, sorry.”

“It's okay, Andrea.” the editor reassures her and moves away a little to fix her hair behind the ear. “You are more important, I would never forgive myself if something happened.”

“Neither would I, honestly, I hadn't thought it through before leaving home. Now that I'm a mother, it seems very dangerous outside.”

“I understand the feeling, it's as if the world isn't safe enough, isn't it?!” Miranda smiles sympathetically when the younger woman agrees, then sighs in frustration at being so close to her and having this kind of sentimental conversation, unable to move forward due to a lack of courage. “Come on! I'll walk you to the door to make sure you don't run away.”

“Fair enough...” Andrea is embarrassed, realizing how reckless her previous actions were.

   Miranda helps her out of the car, making sure she can do so safely with the baby in the carrier. Her gentle hands are everywhere, helping her up from the seat, protecting the baby's head from the wind, and ending at Andy's waist, guiding her down the stairs with extra care. She asks questions to make sure they are really okay after everything they have just been through. Andrea's heart melts with all the genuine concern, not knowing exactly how to react, just keeping a shy smile.

“You still remember the office number, right? Anything, just call me.” anyway, Miranda writes down the contact information on a piece of paper and hands it to her. “Olga will make you some hot soup to warm you up, it's very cold. The girls will be home from school early today, you can do something together, maybe enjoy the garden if the sun comes out in the afternoon.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” the brunette is immediately excited by this. The Priestly residence’s garden is huge and beautiful, located at the back of the house, with a delicate gazebo, flowers, and a few trees. She never dared to go there, trying not to overstep boundaries. “And maybe Cait will like it.”

“I'm sure she will. It's peaceful and healthy for the little one to be in touch with nature.” she approaches mother and daughter, crouching down to pull a little of the fabric from the carrier, finding a very attentive Caitlyn refusing to sleep after everything she's been through. “Bye, Caitlyn. See you later.“ she kisses the top of the girl's head, smelling the pleasant scent of baby shampoo. ”See you too." on impulse, she approaches Andy and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. Only when she turns her back on the two finally realize what she has just done, unable to believe it.

“See you later...” Andrea whispers in response, unheard, a small smile spreading across her full lips, cheeks immediately flushing and the kiss burning her face like an invisible tattoo.

   Half an hour later, Miranda is back at Runway, walking through the corridors without caring about the curious glances because she is late, soon to be the Dragon, the one who could fire someone just for being late for a fitting. Behind her, Emily runs in really high heels and the jingling accessories are the only noises to be heard, until Nigel appears, snapping his fingers for them to get back to work as if nothing were happening, even though he himself finds the rare event strange, and the magazine returns to normal, coming out of its state of shock. Her coat and purse are thrown roughly on the junior assistant's desk, almost knocking over the notes the girl was taking, and the editor's faithful duo is summoned to the office. The redhead shudders, trying to imagine what on earth could have delayed her boss and what her mood might be like in relation to it. To her surprise, there is a gentle smile on Miranda's usually neutral face. Despite her good mood, the woman soon begins giving orders as usual, reviewing the day's schedule before dismissing her.

“Okay, anything else?” she asks anxiously, pen tapping energetically against the notebook in anticipation, curiosity beginning to gnaw at her, knowing she will probably have to wait for Nigel to find out anything.

“That's all. ” is her only response, without looking at the assistant a second time.

   Emily rushes to fulfill the agenda, immediately distributing tasks with Sarah, taking on the administrative ones, since the broken leg she has been avoiding doing work outside the office. Her leg still hurts if she walks too much, mainly because of the high heels she usually wears, and there is still the trauma behind the whole situation. She trembles when she sees taxis, stopping before crossing the street or anything related. But, in addition to these factors, the redhead wants to feed her own interest.

“Is the pain worse today?” Serena sneaks up on her after Sarah leaves and accidentally gives her a scare. “Or did you not want to go out?”

“Oh, no, no... I’m fine today, but...” she leans in, as if telling a very important secret. “Miranda is smiling, you know how rare that is.”

“I have theories.”

“Theories?” Emily steps back and frowns, confused. She is the one closest to her boss at work and had barely come up with a plausible reason.

“Yes, theories.” this time it is the Brazilian who approaches, leaning over the table until they are a few inches apart. “It has something to do with a certain brunette with big eyes. Here’s a big hint: she used to work here.”

“Andrea?” there is pure shock in the assistant’s voice. She stares at Miranda through the glass, focused on her work and with that smile still lingering on her lips. “But... how?”

“A little bird told me they’re together. Engaged.”

“What? Who?” this time she thinks she might faint with the direction this conversation is taking. “Andrea? Give me a break.”

“It was in the newspaper this morning, didn't you see? Society column, highlighted.“ the taller woman looks surprised, she thought they were on the same page about it and Emily was just pretending to be ignorant. ”Here!“ among the gray pages is a highlighted photo of Miranda and bold letters in the headline. ”I think they fabricated some things, but they may be together.“

“The Priestly family welcomes a new member.”

   Emily begins to read, laughing because she is sure it is a misunderstanding related to the birth of Andrea's daughter. She looks up mockingly, and Serena just waves for her to continue.

"According to a reliable source, two weeks ago (September 16), the previously unknown fiancée of the editor-in-chief of the renowned Runway magazine was admitted to Presbyterian Hospital in labor... She gave birth to a healthy baby girl, whom they named Caitlyn Miriam Priestly, following the family tradition after her older sisters, Caroline and Cassidy... No one knew of this woman's existence. Could she be the reason for Miranda and Stephen Tomlinson's divorce months earlier?"

Silence. The redhead trembles, clutching the papers in her hands. It's impossible to tell if it's anger or shock, perhaps both.

“Em?”

“Shit! Miranda is going to kill me. And I'm going to kill Andrea.” she straightens up and stands abruptly with sudden determination, newspaper still in hand. “Get the number for the hospital and the newspaper, I'll be right back.”

   She runs to the office, forgetting to announce her presence, and immediately receives a deadly disapproving look, as if she had interrupted something very important that she shouldn't know about, because complete silence hangs in the air. Emily suddenly feels unsure, not knowing whether she should really tell her what she has just discovered or take matters into her own hands before it gets to them, so she begins to gesticulate, words stuck in her throat and sentences rephrased in a stammer. Nigel, who was going over the final details of the collection, raises an eyebrow and mimics her stammering, until she finally manages to formulate the sentence again.

“Miranda, you're in the newspapers."

“I'm always in the newspapers." she replies casually, focused on the book in front of her.

“It's different this time, it's not about Runway, nor about the new collection, it's about your personal life."

“Stephen? He can't say anything to the media." Miranda shrugs, still unconcerned with any gossip or malicious rumors they've made up about her.

“No... It's about Andrea and Caitlyn.” so the redhead gets her boss's attention, blue eyes now fixed on her, waiting for her to continue, lips in a thin, serious line. Imagining the worst “Someone at the hospital revealed her birth, as your daughter.”

“Oh!”

“And that Andrea may have been the reason for the divorce with Stephen.” she adds, hesitantly.

“Did they disclose her name?” is the only thing the woman asks, ignoring the rest for now.

“No, but they disclosed the baby's name. It was published as Caitlyn Priestly, even with her middle name. And her date of birth too. Private information.”

“What about Andrea?”

“They didn't mention her name.”

“Find out who released it, make sure Andrea's identity is preserved, as well as any photos or other information about my daughter. Use our contacts if necessary.” Emily understands what she means, but finds it strange that she has no further action on this, as if she doesn't care about being associated with the baby's other mother. “That's all.”

   As soon as she leaves, Miranda goes online and searches for her own name, coming across a selection of news titles with similar headlines and articles posted using Ctrl + C, a sign that they came from a single source. The editor rests chin on hand and analyzes the details of one in particular, one that even gave the baby's time of birth, which irritated her. Not only with the hospital, but with herself for not transferring Andrea to a better and safer one. As a public figure in New York and in the fashion world, she should have taken precautions to ensure that the woman did not have to face the hell that is the press, knowing how malicious and hypocritical they can be. Having said that she was Andrea's fiancée caught the attention of a more attentive employee, and now the two Sachs will be exposed to the journalistic sharks. All it takes is for someone to open their mouth and the peace of anonymity will be gone. There will be many malicious comments and people who will try to attack them on behalf of her ex-husband, to defend him, or even at Stephen's behest as a form of retaliation. It is irrational for him to believe that they were planning to have a baby together when they had not even decided to divorce.

“What are you going to do about it?” Nigel asks, approaching to read the news. “Poor Andrea, if anyone knows who she is, they will hunt her down mercilessly like the deer she is.”

“I'm going to find out who leaked Caitlyn's information. Any journalist, with a little persuasion, can get the baby's file from that hospital.” Miranda snorts and throws herself back in her chair, frustrated at the idea of not being able to protect them.

“You're not thinking straight right now, why don't you take a break?” he is stared at in confusion, never in all her years as editor-in-chief has Miranda Priestly taken a day off without a good reason. “Today your schedule is light, the new collection has already been sent out, I don't think you can do much with that on your mind either.”

“Nigel...”

“And you can spend time with your girls, Caroline, Cassidy...” the man raises one eyebrow before continuing, provocatively, “Caitlyn and Andrea. Maybe you can distract them from the news.”

“I can't believe I'm saying this.” she sighs and stands up. “You've convinced me.”

“Using Andrea always works.” Nigel teases her shamelessly, following her to the office door, then helping her put on the coat and handing her the purse. “And don’t forget to give her a welcome kiss, since you already gave her a goodbye kiss.”

“Shut up!”

   During the way back, the weather suddenly changes, the sky closes in between the buildings, it gets dark and heavy rain clouds form, the drops quickly turning into a typical late summer storm, even though the season ended a week ago, it still has its characteristics. In a few minutes, thanks to the rare quiet traffic, Miranda returns home, running inside without waiting for Roy with the umbrella. The house is silent, except for the noise coming from the kitchen, where Olga is whispering to the second maid, probably giving her instructions. No one notices her arrival, and she makes no effort to announce herself, just leaving her coat in the closet before quickly going upstairs. The hallways are equally silent. Deep down, she hoped to hear Andrea's voice talking to the baby or the sound of a TV, which would be a sign that she is enjoying the house, something the youngster seems to have refused to do since she arrived. Instead of going straight to her room to change clothes, Miranda heads to Caitlyn's nursery, surprised by the baby's absence, once again hoping to find Andy and her daughter, to witness the scenes of affection she loves so much to witness and record in her memory with love. A huge dose of serotonin.

“The documents...” she whispers, remembering that whoever disclosed the birth information was close to them, probably appearing in the medical records and documentation.

   She knows exactly where Andrea keeps Cait's documents and hospital papers; soon they would have to use them at the newborn's routine appointment. There is a pile of them in the first drawer of the cabinet. Miranda carefully reads the names of the professionals most closely involved during their stay in the hospital, their two nurses and the doctor appearing constantly, document after document. She spends a good few minutes analyzing names until all the papers are fully read, then there is the baby's first and only document. Miranda caresses the paper and smiles, those little letters creating a precious name, and that's when she finally realizes what they form. Instead of Andrea's last name, there is hers. Caitlyn Miriam Priestly. Purely, without being complementary, there isn't even Sachs. And below Miranda's name, next to the other woman's, as second motherhood.

“My God!” she lets the paper fall through her fingers, in shock.

   Caitlyn was officially registered as her daughter, her third child. And it all made sense. During Andrea's stay in the hospital, they had to sign so many papers that at some point she didn't even see what she was signing. It wasn't easy to take care of the magazine and spend hours at the hospital as a full-time companion. Andrea was also constantly tired. It was a difficult delivery and recovery, in addition to having to take care of the baby. She doesn't even consider the possibility that it was done on purpose, concluding that the Andrea may not have seen the complete registration or noticed the “mistake” in the documentation. Caitlyn was registered accidentally, and yet reading her full name warms the publisher's heart, making her feel good just looking at it, imagining that this is legally real secretly satisfies her. The feeling only gets better when she reads Andy's name next to hers, as if they were a couple, moms of that cute and lovable creature they are taking care of, in fact, Miranda hopes they are raising together. Her smile widens, dimples forming on her cheeks, a rare sight reserved for big, limitless smiles and those she loves, previously given only to her daughters.

   But soon the reality of her goal in searching through the documentation returns. Miranda lists the professionals who could have disclosed the baby's birth data, taking this as something even more personal. She was already naturally protective of the two, but now she has an official duty to protect them from anyone who is trying to harm them, anyone who puts the integrity of mother and daughter at stake.

“Girls?” she hears Andrea moan from the other room when she accidentally closes the drawer a little too hard. “Olga?” her voice sounds too sleepy, almost groggy.

“No, Andrea. It's not noon yet.” Miranda speaks softly, opening the door and immediately melting at the scene in front of her. Lying on the bed, between soft blankets, Andy is wearing sky blue pajamas with Caitlyn in the middle of the bed, nestled on a flat pillow. “Is she still sleeping?”

“She just fell asleep. She got a little moody when you left, and I just now managed to...” a big yawn interrupts her before she can finish the sentence. “Well, she put me to sleep.” they both smile, and the editor approaches the bed carefully, sitting on the edge.

“You must be tired, it was a lot of effort today.”

“Please, Miranda, you made me run much more when I was your assistant, it was almost like a gym.” she rolls her eyes and adjusts herself to be face to face with the woman, surprised by the time on the clock behind her. “I thought I had slept much longer. What are you doing home so early?”

“Headache,” Miranda says quickly, her face impassive as she lies. “Go back to sleep, apparently the rain will last all afternoon. I'm sorry you didn't get to enjoy the garden.”

“You can't control the weather, maybe we can do that tomorrow.” the brunette smiles weakly and returns to her previous position, half lying down, her eyes attentive to the baby, at the same time Caitlyn seems to wake up from a dream with a sudden jump, followed by the beginning of crying. “Oh, my love, mommy is here...” she begins, but her daughter seems to stop crying as quickly as she started when she sees Miranda right there beside her, now staring at her "I'm sure now, she prefers you."

"Well, it's not my fault." she shrugs and strokes the baby's black hair, noticing the abundance of strands for a few days of life "She'll have your hair, lucky thing."

“She has to inherit something from me,” Andrea jokes and strokes the baby's tummy, but even that doesn't get her attention. Caitlyn is obsessed with the other woman's presence. “I don't think Cait will let you leave.”

“So what do I do? Sleep here with you?”

“Yes?”

"Seriously?" her heart stops for a millisecond and, like a teenager, she feels her ears burn from being close to someone she likes, as if she were about to do something very intimate. Andrea just nods positively and points to the pillow next to the baby to lie down. “Caitlyn is the boss." and she lies down there, in front of the brunette with the little girl between them.

“Thank you...” Andy whispers and settles into the blanket, offering some to her, then closes her eyes for a second to rest and ends up falling asleep before saying anything else she was planning to say.

“You're welcome, dear.” the editor whispers when she realizes that she has actually fallen asleep, then turns to Caitlyn, almost falling asleep again, struggling to keep her eyes open and alert. In a few minutes, she loses the battle against Miranda's lullabies. “Sleep well, my Sachs. And my little Priestly.”

   Not long after, both are fast asleep, Andrea even snoring a little, confirming the twins' theory. This makes Miranda smile, making a mental note to tell them. The baby, meanwhile, is in her thirteenth sleep, lying still in bed, looking like a doll, small and delicate. She wonders if she should get out of bed, but any movement could wake one of them, and she would have to stay there until the baby fell asleep again, that is, if the trick of watching her worked again. Finally, she surrenders, taking off her high heels and throwing them at the foot of the bed, and covers herself, admitting that she is getting cold as the rain grows heavier outside.

   The sound of raindrops against the window calms her from the problems that surrounded her morning, too much information for just the beginning of the day. With that, sleep quickly comes, and the woman understands why Andrea fell asleep so fast, surrendering to the power of a rainy morning. She hasn't enjoyed a day like this to rest in years. At this time, she would probably be at the office giving orders and insults without even noticing the weather, seeing the storm as a mere drizzle. The warm and comfortable feeling in bed suddenly makes her feel tired. Miranda fights the urge to sleep, but in less than half an hour of watching mother and daughter, she also surrenders, finally letting her eyes close in the immersion of drowsiness, ambitious thoughts unconsciously taking over, the perspective that she now has a mission to transform what they have into something much greater. She, Andrea, the twins, and the little bundle of joy as a family. This picture takes over her deepest dreams.