Gun Brooke MirAndy/J7 Fanfiction Advent Calendar

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Below the Surface

There are two hidden links so far (not behind any of the doors) that will lead you to two manips. Search with the cursor until you see it change into a hand. :-)


Door 12


Andy watched Miranda’s eyes grew wide. It took her mind a little while to scramble and catch up with what she just said to her boss. Something…something about a…kiss? “Oh, my God.” Gripping the armrests of the recliner, Andy pressed her legs down to fold in the leg rest. She sat up, looking around the room as she couldn’t quite remember where the escape route was…e.g. the door.

“Andrea?” Miranda placed a hand on top of Andy’s. “Calm down. Just—calm down.”

“But—why…why would I say that? Just like that? I was holding down the fucking balloon and then…then…”

“And then I brought you back from the feeling of holding a bucket and a balloon.” Miranda spoke with her usual measured tone and she seemed unfazed about Andy’s embarrassing, not to mention inappropriate, words.

“But why would I blurt something like that out? I thought you couldn’t make someone do something they didn’t want to with hypnosis.” Angry now, Andy glared at Miranda.

“You generally can’t. I have to say you are one of the most susceptible people I’ve ever done these exercises with. Makes me wonder what would happen if I sent you deep into—a”

“No. Not a chance. Uh-uh.” Andy wanted to get up, but her legs felt funny. Were they still hypnotized? Could you even hypnotize individual body parts?

“Of course not. As for what you said while on the border between the exercise and normal focus, it’s quite possible you have entertained some fantasies that surfaced just in time to—”

“Embarrass me. And you! Oh, God. I’m sorry for even agreeing to this.” Clasping her forehead, Andy slid forward on the chair, determined to make her legs cooperate. “It’s getting late—”

“And you are a bit unsteady. Let me assist you.” Standing up, Miranda extended both hands. “After all, we cannot have you fall and break your neck.”

Reluctant, Andy allowed Miranda to pull her out of the recliner. It went better than she thought and she knew she should let go of Miranda’s hand, but she wanted to feel the silky-smooth skin under hers for just a moment longer. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank you.” Miranda placed her other hand at the small of Andy’s back. “Did you find your bearings now?”

“Yes.” Andy let go of Miranda’s hand, but was acutely aware of the one on her back. It literally should scorch a hold in her shirt where it pressed against her.

Miranda opened her mouth to say something, hesitated, which was totally out of character, and then closed it again. She raised her free hand and pushed a lock of unruly hair from Andy’s face.

Andy gasped softly. What was going on? Had Miranda hypnotized both of them? No, that could hardly be done. How silly. Still, for Miranda to look at her with such—well, if she didn’t know better, she would read that as hunger.

“You’re a peculiar woman,” Miranda murmured. “Every time I think I have you figured out, you do, or say, something to throw me off.”

“I wasn’t aware I spoke aloud.” Andy cringed. Was Miranda going to fire her now?

“I know. Though, hypnosis brings you to clarity of mind well with some, and I would say, removes the filter which most of us use.”

“Oh, God.” Andy whimpered and knew there was no way out of this. Miranda was brilliant and, but brilliance wasn’t required to figure out that Andy had daydreamed of kissing Miranda Priestly…and on several occasions. Sometimes, nightly dreams had gone much further, leaving Andy a hot mess on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Don’t panic.” Miranda patted Andy’s shoulder. “I’m not going to hold anything you said against you. I realize that tapping into a person’s subconscious, however brief, can stir things. Had I known how sensitive you truly are, how responsive…I should’ve been more cautious.”

Andy knew this was Miranda’s way of dismissing Andy’s words when coming out of the ‘balloon and bucket’ thing. She still kept her chin up, not about to let on how deeply the dismissal cut. “Hey. No big deal, right?” Andy felt her smile wobble, but remained casual.

“Everything about you is a ‘big deal’,” Miranda said. Her voice was low, just above a whisper; perhaps she tried to put less emphasis on what she said that way. “Don’t sell yourself, or your words, short.”

Andy blinked repeatedly and then pinched her thigh, thinking she may be even deeper hypnosis than she thought. The pinch cleared that up, the pain made her wince. “What do you mean, exactly?” Andy knew she was bordering on certifiable right now. Miranda strongly disliked questions. That was what her previous assistant had told Andy when she showed her the ropes. “If there is something you don’t understand or don’t know—do not ask Miranda. Google it. Ask a friend. Even call me, if you really need to, but don’t bother her with questions. She’ll take your head off.” Well, tough. There was no way for Andy to google this, or call Emily and ask her. This was the ultimate exception to the ‘do-not-bother-Miranda-with-questions’ rule.

Miranda frowned, but not in an annoyed way. More in a ‘damn it, I’m caught and I don’t know what to say’ way. “Very well. What I mean is, don’t panic about what you said after the exercise. I wasn’t offended, far from it.” With that, she yanked her hand away from the small of Andy’s back and rounded her desk. “You’re off the clock. By the way, who is escorting me tomorrow night?”

“Uhm. Christian Thompson will get back to me tonight or tomorrow morning. James Holt is going with someone named Jaqueline Follet.” Andy was relieved to resume her assistant role and finally able to breathe. Still part of her was mulling over the ‘I wasn’t offended, far from it’ comment from Miranda.

“That’s cutting it close.” Miranda held up her hand. “I know, I know. I procrastinated.” She tapped her lower lip. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” She eyed Andy with narrowing eyes, her head tilted to the left.

“What? Me? Er…nothing. Laundry, I suppose.”

“Do your laundry tonight. Go to my friend Nigel Kipling at Vogue and have him find a dress for you. You’re a size four, right?”

“Size four? Uh. Yes.” The room span. “Are you saying…I…eh do you mean…”

“Oh, do keep up, Andrea.” Miranda gave her barracuda smile, but her eyes glittered with what looked like mischief. “You’re going to the Met Advent Ball as my plus-one.”


Door 13 will open on Dec 13, 2016