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aNd ThEy WeRe ROoMmAtEs
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Published:
2015-02-18
Completed:
2015-03-15
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12,236
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3/3
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Mentorship

Summary:

Andy makes a mistake. Miranda makes a decision.

A prequel to Risk.

Notes:

I mentioned that I was thinking about doing a prequel for Risk and I've finally managed to find time to write some of it down. Unbeta-ed so there may be some bumps on the ride, but I sincerely hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter Text

Twenty-five seconds was the amount of time it took for Andy Sachs to get out of the town-car and let herself into the townhouse, as she juggled dry-cleaning, The Book and putting the key into the lock.

On a good day, twenty-seconds.

On a bad day, twenty-five seconds in an editorial meeting was all it took for Miranda's mood to plunge into subzero temperatures and proceed to stay there. At least until the entire team was ready to throw themselves through Elias-Clarke's polished windows onto the busy New York streets below.

Today was a bad day, and Andy's nerves were so frazzled, the split ends in her hair on the first day she joined Runway couldn't even come close.

So when she received an internal memo in her inbox from HR on some stupid mentorship programme they were implementing for "talent development", Andy totally ignored it. It meant that her mentor would be randomly assigned, since she didn't choose from the list contained within the Excel sheet attached but Andy couldn’t bring herself to care. There was no way in hell Miranda Priestly's assistants had time for things like "personal development" and "career growth" anyway. In between trying to confirm Liebowitz and Miranda's lunch appointment with Irv (Miranda had cancelled the last three appointments at the very last minute so dealing with Irv’s assistant was no small feat either), Andy had to squeeze in a hunting session for several missing samples from Michael Kors as well. So yes, the damn mentorship programme could very well proceed without her.

She had completely forgotten about it until the very next day, when HR emailed again - this time personalised - assigning Andy her designated mentor: Cathryn (affectionately known as Cat to everyone in the world except Miranda), a senior graphics and layout editor from the team, well-versed with the publishing industry and her editor-in-chief's verbal take-downs. Not bad. Andy actually liked Cat, and felt that she was one of the few people on Miranda's payroll who knew what she was doing. She might learn something new from this and Andy knew to take her opportunities when they came. Well, if Cat even had the time to do any mentoring.

Feeling oddly buoyant about the whole thing, Andy opened her mouth to ask Emily who she got as a mentor and instantly regretted it when the redhead narrowed her eyes at Andy.

"Miranda, of course." Emily actually looked offended that Andy thought it could be any other person.

"What? They assigned Miranda to you?" Andy couldn't hide her surprise and the significant envy in her voice. Wouldn't HR assign someone more senior as Miranda's mentee? Wasn't that how things worked in programmes like these?

"You are aware that you are allowed to request, right?" Emily looked at Andy with something that said: Are you an idiot?

"Um, yeah. But I didn't really have time to do it yesterday. I mean, when did you find the time?! You were barely at your desk!" Totally true. If Andy had been frazzled yesterday, Emily had been on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Emily sniffed. "You make time."

"Right," Andy said, trying hard not to let the disappointment show. She had missed out on a bigger opportunity in the long run simply because she had been too focused on her task at hand - the short term goals. Damn it. It wasn't like her to let something like this slip past. Cat was great, but to be mentored by Miranda herself was a whole different ballgame, Andy was willing to bet. But there was nothing she could do now, not after HR had sent out those emails. They were inflexible like that. "I doubt HR would have assigned Miranda to be anybody's mentor anyway, not if they want to improve retention rates," Andy snorted, turning back to the blue glare of her computer screen.

"Don't piss on my parade because you're regretting your life choices," Emily said, just as Miranda's soft voice carried from her office.

"Andrea."

“I’m not,” Andy lied, and made her way to Miranda’s office, notepad in hand. She should have spent five minutes replying to HR yesterday. A ball of regret was starting to form in her chest. She had fucked up her one chance at gaining more insight and useful experience at her current job, things which would count and matter on her CV later on. Emily would now have extra time with Miranda and Andy really didn’t want to ponder on the reasons why that morsel of information was driving her nuts.

But with the rate Miranda was going, Andy doubted she would actually be much of a mentor to Emily, especially since the only sort of feedback their boss ever deigned to provide were never very encouraging or even remotely constructive to begin with. Good, Andy thought, spitefully.

“Yes, Miranda?” Andy tried not to stare blatantly at the blouse left unbuttoned because a lacy navy trimming was making itself known that it was there. Not that Miranda had even looked up at her second-assistant – but Andy could never be sure as to what Miranda saw even without looking.

“I trust that you have read HR’s email today?” Miranda said, softly clacking on her keyboard.

Immediately, Andy’s brain went into overdrive. Which HR email? They received HR emails all the damn time, and everyone ignored them. Was Miranda talking about the mentorship programme? Oh, Jesus Christ. Was she fired? She tried not to sweat in her (or rather, The Closet's) Chanel.

“Yes,” Andy said, because there was no way she could ask for clarification and she didn’t want to give Miranda the upper hand, not if she was getting fired.

“Do you have some interest in graphic design and layouts which you would rather pursue?”

“Huh?” came out of Andy’s mouth, and she cringed inside. The no-question rule applied to single-syllable expressions of confusion as well.

The clacking had stopped, and she guessed that Miranda had sent the email she was no doubt writing when Andy entered. Finally, blue eyes looked up to observe her with the customary once-over and then settled on Andy’s face.

“I was under the impression that you wanted to be a writer,” Miranda said, neutrally.

“I do.”

“Your mentor is Cathryn,” the editor intoned, and Andy almost fell on her ass knowing that Miranda had willingly clarified something with her.

Andy pressed her lips together to prevent a whoosh of relief from escaping. The damn mentorship programme. Andy fought hard not to squirm underneath Miranda’s pointed gaze.

“Um, yeah,” Andy said. “I mean, I do want to become a writer. But I’m sure I could learn a lot from Cat – Cathryn too.”

Miranda wrinkled her nose. At Andy’s slip with the nickname, or something else entirely, Andy couldn’t tell. It wasn’t as if Andy had chosen Cat as her mentor. HR had randomly assigned her one – wait, did Miranda think Andy had made that decision? Did Miranda want –

“Send Emily in,” Miranda said, interrupting Andy’s internal debate on whether she should correct Miranda’s assumption or not.

“Miranda –”

For some unknown reason, Andy felt it was important for Miranda to know that but the damn woman obviously wasn’t going to give Andy a chance to explain (did she even owe Miranda an explanation for that matter?), was she?

“That’s all.”

No, she definitely wasn’t.

“Yes, Miranda,” Andy automatically said, feeling strangely bereft at her dismissal.

“You’re up,” Andy said as she passed by Emily’s desk, dropping into her seat with little grace. She woke her computer from the sleep mode it had settled into, and started going through her emails. Seeing HR’s email again made something twist in her stomach unpleasantly, and she dragged it into the MISC folder just so she didn’t need to see it in the main inbox folder.

When 3PM rolled around, Andy had almost forgotten about Miranda, until the sharp staccato of heels alerted her that the devil herself was leaving her lair and made Andy all frustrated again.

“Coat. Bag,” Miranda ordered, but Andy was already standing by, holding Miranda’s coat up. It had taken a while, but Andy had the process down like a well-oiled machine. Miranda slipped into the vintage Dior smoothly – only the fashion maven herself would match the colour of her outerwear to her lingerie – and took the bag Andy offered briskly.

“Have a good day, Miranda,” Andy said, like she always did.

Miranda pursed her lips. “You are coming,” she said, in a way that made it seem like Andy’s accompaniment this afternoon had been in the works for weeks.

“Of course,” Andy said, immediately shoving her notepad into her tote. From across the room, Emily shrugged apologetically, and Andy sighed. Once Miranda made a decision, there was no questioning it or changing her mind. Nevermind the domino effect it had on the rest of the prepared schedules and the backlogging of tasks – those things were for people like Andy and Emily to figure out.

Miranda had already started walking to the elevator, and Andy took the opportunity to put on her own coat and smoothen out her bangs.

“Could you –” Andy began but Emily was already waving a hand to shoo her away. “Thanks, Em!” Andy said, and felt the irrational envy against the British woman melt a little. It was stupid to hold her own slip-up against Emily, she knew.

Andy reached the elevators, just as Miranda stepped into one, and waited for the next while firing off a text to Roy. By the time she made it down to the lobby, she could see a silver-bob parting the human sea and Andy struggled to keep up. She wouldn’t be surprised, if it turned out Miranda could run marathons in stilettos.

She made it to Miranda’s side the exact moment the silver-haired woman turned to say something, and Andy mentally patted herself on the back. It was all about timing. She knew Miranda’s tendency to spew a last minute command just before entering the car, and just before exiting it. She knew that if she hit the elevator button three seconds after Miranda got into one, another would come just in time for her to reach the lobby and catch up with Miranda at the car before she got in.

“Tell Nigel I will not return to the office today, and to chair the four-thirty meeting,” Andy heard, as Miranda slipped into the town-car. Okay. Not returning to office, Nigel chair meeting, she mentally recounted, sprinting to the other side of the car – Miranda Priestly never slid across seats.

“Yes, Miranda,” Andy said, as Roy started driving.

She knew her boss had an appointment at 3:30PM, but it had been vague on the calendar and Andy had presumed it was personal. On hindsight, she should have known it unlikely, since Miranda rarely used official working hours for personal matters. She messaged Nigel and then forwarded a few emails she couldn’t personally deal with, being out of office, to Emily.

“We will be meeting a new designer today,” Miranda announced after a few brief moments of silence, to Andy and the back of Roy’s head.

“Okay,” Andy said, frowning slightly. Normally, Miranda liked to have Nigel around when she explored the freshest talent on the market, along with several different editors on the team. And there would normally be someone around to take pictures too. But Andy was pretty resourceful, and carried around a little compact camera in her bag (it had become a habit to discreetly snap pictures of things Miranda seemed to not dislike just for future reference when it would inadvertently be requested for later on) so she may actually survive this afternoon unscathed.

“I haven’t decided if I like the work, but we will see.”

Andy tried not to gape. Was Miranda actually making conversation with her? Was she expected to contribute to it?

“Yes, Andrea. You may ask a question,” Miranda said, sounding annoyed but if Andy was to be honest, she could have sworn that there was amusement mixed in there, somehow.

“Um.”

“I’m not sure if writing is a good career path for you, Andrea.” Miranda raised a condescending eyebrow, and it took five whole seconds for Andy to realise that the older woman was not entirely serious. Unchartered waters, Sachs, Andy mentally briefed herself. She had no idea how to navigate this and Miranda seemed to realise the effect she was having on her second assistant. Maybe this was a test. It had to be, because Miranda enjoyed putting people through hell for the fun of it. Andy was sure.

“Sorry,” Andy mumbled. Then taking up Miranda’s offer, because it will probably never come again within the next million years, she asked: “Why isn’t the team going too?”

“At times, I like to visit them myself. Before I am sure.”

“Sure?”

“Gut-feeling, if you will, tells me there is potential. But I have yet to make up my mind as to whether the potential is worthy of Runway’s time. A preliminary survey is necessary. And I find, that without the entire team, they are less afraid,” Miranda said, explaining her actions in such uncharacteristic detail that Andy was floored. Nothing made sense. Miranda talking to her didn’t make sense. Miranda explaining herself didn’t make sense. The explanation itself didn’t make sense. Less afraid? What the hell? Was Miranda even aware of the petrifying fear she invoked in mere mortals? How could someone be less afraid when trapped in a room with only Miranda Priestly? More importantly, Andy’s beating heart at Miranda’s full attention didn’t make any fucking sense either.

But Andy schooled her features, and said: “Okay. That makes sense.”

“I certainly hope so,” Miranda said, still watching Andy.

Unwilling to betray her nervousness, Andy settled for what she knew. “Yes, Miranda.”

Miranda’s gaze grew more intense, like Andy had said something she shouldn’t have, or didn’t say something she should have. Shit. But there was no way she could go back and edit her response… and to babble on now indecisively would annoy Miranda further. Shit.

“Perhaps your decision to go with layouts is the right choice then,” Miranda finally said, seemingly having lost interest in Andy and going back to her phone.

Which completely irritated Andy because for one, writing was the career path for her, and two, Andy didn’t even choose Cat as her mentor. And why was Miranda so intent on bringing it up every damn time she saw Andy anyway? Did it bother her ego that, unlike Emily, Andy hadn’t fallen all over herself to be mentored by Miranda?

“Yeah, I’d like to think so,” Andy said, feigning indifference. And to think it had been so important that Miranda knew Cat hadn’t been Andy’s choice – well, Andy wasn’t going to give Miranda the satisfaction of knowing that yes, Andy would have fallen all over herself to get herself Miranda’s mentorship. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let Miranda know that she was indeed beating herself up having lost that chance.

“I’m sure HR would be happy to hear that,” Miranda said, without missing a beat or looking up from her phone.

Andy sighed internally. Of course, Miranda couldn’t care less. Why would it bother Miranda who her unimportant second assistant chose as a mentor? Why did she even think that Miranda would be interested in any explanation Andy had to give? She was probably just enjoying the power trips induced by making Andy quake in her Manolo Blahniks.

As it turned out, whatever doubts Miranda had carried about the new designer’s work was confirmed at the meeting and it only lasted a grand fifteen minutes. Andy didn’t even have the opportunity to learn the designer’s name and didn’t have the guts to ask Miranda. Still, she took a lot of pictures with her crappy compact camera, just in case.

The trip back to the office – the editor had decided that yes, she would be returning to the office – was a bit less eventful. Whatever it was that had prompted Miranda to start speaking to Andy earlier had disappeared and she actually felt disappointed that Miranda was mostly leaving her to her own devices. Andy wondered if Nigel and the rest were even aware about Miranda’s little field trip. Likely not, Andy realised. And Miranda had taken Andy along. Did she make it a habit to bring her assistants with her whenever she felt inclined to visit a designer alone? Emily had never mentioned anything like this before. Suddenly, it was really important that Andy spoke to Emily.

They arrived back at the Elias-Clarke building at 4:17PM sharp, and Andy sent a text to Nigel and Emily to alert them that Miranda was on the way up. Preparing for a meeting with Nigel and then having to face Miranda instead was something Andy would never wish on anybody in the team. At least Miranda wasn’t in any discernible mood – neutral to mild annoyance on the Miranda-scale was a very good day for most employees of Runway. It was odd that the meeting earlier had not dented Miranda’s mood more, but Andy shrugged it off. The older woman was nothing if not unpredictable.

“Hey Em,” Andy said, the moment she laid eyes on blazing red hair.

“What?” the redhead snapped, by way of greeting.

“Did Miranda ever make you attend meetings with new designers before?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She brings an entourage to those things. You have been to a few,” she said, pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah I guess,” Andy said, and pretended to laugh at her absent-mindedness.

Shit.

Evidently, Miranda had never taken Emily with her to private meetings.

And of course, Andy had to fuck it up because she couldn’t shut her mouth – though nothing had been said or implied, Andy knew that today would be the first and last time Miranda would have Andy accompany her on something like this. From the easy (on Miranda’s part) banter they had started out with, to the disappointing silence following the very brief meeting, Andy was sure she had ruined any chance of the former ever happening again within her lifetime. The worst thing was, she didn’t even know what she had done –

No, that wasn’t entirely true.

Deep down, Andy knew what.

It was the how and why which didn’t make any sense at all.

But Miranda wasn’t someone who inspired sense-making. She demanded the outrageous and performed miracles nobody else could even dream to pull off.

Ignoring the constant dull thrum of regret and disappointment in her chest, something which had been lodged there since they left the unnamed designer’s studio, Andy threw her attention to work, and making the most out of her current situation. There was no point now, was there? She was only going to drive herself insane if she continued on, the rational part of her mind thought.

So she emailed Cat, ticked off ten items on her to-do list, and even managed to pop into the pantry for a quick coffee break while Emily was out running some errands she hadn’t been able to do earlier covering for Andy’s absence.

When Miranda reappeared after the meeting, Andy had managed to convince herself that everything would be okay. Even if Emily got to spend more time with Miranda than Andy did. Even if Cat wasn’t Miranda, which could be an advantageous point all things considered. Nothing had actually changed, Andy reasoned. Miranda being vague and quiet was classic, and it wasn’t as if they had started out as best buddies and then ended up with this gaping distance between them. No, the distance had always been there.

Her phone pinged with a new message, just as Miranda strode past her desk, and Andy couldn’t help but smile when she read it.

“Hey Andy, don’t email me, or I’ll think of you as work. Let’s have coffee tomorrow to talk about your growth plan. Believe it or not, I actually have a form to fill out on you.”

“Do I pay you to smile mindlessly at your phone?”

Andy’s back straightened at once.

“Sorry, Miranda,” she said, in reflex. Not that Andy had done anything wrong at all. The mentorship programme was management mandated, so Andy hadn’t been doing something personal. “It was Cathryn,” Andy explained, the same time her brain screeched at her to shut up. “We’re going to meet for my growth plan,” she continued, volunteering more information than what Miranda probably wanted to hear, because her mouth had a mind of its own.

Miranda looked like a giant, towering over Andy’s seated form in her heels, and she looked obviously displeased.

“Feel free to do as much growing as you’d like when you have nothing else to do, but it would do you well to remember your priorities, Andrea.  I happen to know just how much you have to do right this instant.” Andy caught an imperceptible shadow cross Miranda’s regal features but it was gone before she had time to process and read what it meant.

Andy swallowed. “Of course, Miranda. It won’t happen again.”

Without the Dior coat, Andy also found that she could see teasing glimpses of the navy lace she had forgotten over the course of this afternoon. Aware that her face was heating up, Andy averted her gaze, only to find Miranda staring back at her.

Andy’s heart started pounding. She had been wrong. Something had definitely changed. The ground had shifted somewhere, sometime today and Andy Sachs was in trouble.

But without a single word, Miranda turned and stalked into her office, leaving Andy staring after her like an idiot.

Shit.