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“…That no longer includes Emily,” Miranda says with the casualness of someone discussing the current weather. Her fingers continue going through the pages of the Book as her gaze observes every single detail.
Meanwhile, Andrea’s world is being rocked. Slightly. Not much by the fact that Miranda wants her to go to the Paris Fashion Week as by the fact that New York will be left without Spider-Woman for a whole week. The probability of a lethal alien villain appearing and destroying the whole city isn’t exactly high, but it certainly isn’t equal to zero. Which means she simply cannot let this happen. Which means she’ll have to say no to Miranda Priestly.
Might as well just kill herself right now. On the spot. No, first leave the townhouse and find a quiet alley. Miranda wouldn’t want a bloody mess on her probably-super-expensive-rug.
“Miranda, I can’t—“ stick to Emily! “Emily would die. Her whole life is about Paris! I can’t do that to her,” and she isn’t necessarily deceiving Miranda. Emily would, in fact, shoot herself in the head if she heard that Miranda was replacing her with Andy. Andy really wouldn’t like that. And when they were just starting to get along, too!
Sachs finally earns a glance from Priestly. It looks like there is something about Andrea Miranda can’t yet put her finger on. At least not fully.
“If you don’t go, I’ll assume you’re not serious about your future at Runway. Or any other publication,” Miranda gives a brief shrug, “Is your fondness for her enough to make such a statement?” she raises an eyebrow sceptically, clearly indicating her opinion on that, “Or is there.. another occupation stopping you from accepting my offer?”
Andrea frowns, “What? No, no, it’s just.. It wouldn’t be fair to Emily. That’s all.”
“Is it, now?”
Maybe at this particular moment Miranda isn’t a threat enough to induce Spidey sense to tingle, but her icy voice did succeed to freeze Andy’s boiling blood. And all of her thinking processes with it, too. What is she implying?
“Well, yeah?” Andrea lets out a small, confused chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sound nervous because she has absolutely no reason to be nervous. None.
Miranda narrows her eyes at something in the Book, biting her lips, pensive. Andrea sighs internally with relief, taking it as a sign that she’s dismissed. Although she doesn’t make a move to leave because she hasn’t yet heard the infamous ‘That’s all’.
Priestly speaks again and does, indeed, sound rebuffing and almost bored (bored, however, she sounds half the time… the other half she sounds irritated), “Surprisingly, Runway seems to attract an unusual number of insects. And a spider.”
Andrea wishes she could fly instead of shooting out webs out her wrists so she could fly to whatever is the furthest place on Earth from Miranda’s townhouse right now. Miranda doesn’t know. How would she know? But why is she talking about spider all of a sudden? Maybe she’s arachnophobic?
“Do you— Do you want me to get rid of them?” Andy looks at her boss, as if the latter is a patient in a psychiatric institution.
Which, inevitably, annoys Miranda.
“Why would I want that? You still have to go to Paris with me,” Priestly tilts her head to the side, “That is, if you’re as smart as you claimed to be on your interview.”
“What do you mean? How— What do the spiders have to do with me?” Andy lies on a regular basis, surely she can convince Miranda that she is absolutely wrong and Andrea just couldn’t possibly be a superhero even if she really wanted to. Right?
“You are a much better assistant than you are a liar, Andrea. Which is something you should work on, really, considering it’s a necessity in your case,” Miranda purses her lips in disapproval, carefully watching Andrea’s reaction.
The reaction in question is a dumbfounded expression that Andy right now is using as a protective shield while she contemplates intensely on her next actions.
“Miranda, I really don’t—“ Not smooth, Sachs. Really not smooth. Somehow, Miranda is making her feel as if she just came out of the surgery room and anaesthesia hasn’t yet worn off.
“Oh, please. Do not keep embarrassing both of us. While this act may continue for as long as you wish, I can’t stand it anymore.”
It works and Andrea shuts up. What does Miranda want? For her to use her webs as transportation for Priestly twins, so they don’t have to be stuck in traffic? To show up on their birthday party? Either way, they’ll have to find an arrangement.
“This is ridiculous.”
Miranda raises an eyebrow, “You’re able to fetch coffees and shirts either under five minutes or thirty. Your outings for Calvin Klein skirts just happen to coincide with every Spider-Woman sighting in Midtown. Or your poorly hidden bruises after the said superhero faces another..” she winces, as if the next word physically hurts her to pronounce, “supervillain. Nigel firmly believes you spend the nights in boxing rings to get a relief after work.”
“Well, firstly, Starbucks can get very busy very fast, which is why sometimes it takes longer. Secondly, it’s a coincidence! Thirdly, I… bruise easily. It’s hard to walk that fast on heels,” You’re screwed, Sachs. Bravo.
At that, Priestly simply rolls her eyes. A silly girl.
“I admit that New York has become rather dependent on Spider-Woman. However, Paris is only a week. Whatever you may imagine, I’m afraid the city won’t collapse in your absence.”
And how can you say no to this impossibly stubborn woman? Not that Andrea is any less stubborn.
“Miranda, you don’t have any proof. Literally anybody could be Spider-Woman,” which is why she keeps denying everything, “And how could I even be her when I’m working for you?”
“I have excellent observational skills, there is no need for any evidence. As for your second point, I think we’ve established that you can do anything.”
Second time Andrea hears this phrase from her boss, which may have been the biggest compliment for any other person, yet both times she feels more crushed than grateful.
“I can’t go to Paris.”
“You can.”
Andrea groans.
“What if something happens?” she says, accusingly. When had she become this bold?
“I assure you, Andrea, the Paris Fashion Week is much more important than some criminals New York is flooding with, with or without you.”
“You do realise that no one can know about this, right? Matter of fact, go ahead and tell Nigel that I do, in fact, box at night.”
If Miranda was feeling a bit insulted before when Andrea was playing dumb, now she is definitely offended, “Do you think you work for an idiot, Andrea?”