Chapter 61: Winter is Coming

[theladyholl]

Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...



Hey! She's back! Only one job layoff, an amazing trip to Europe and two sagas of taking care of grandparents battling heart failure (you know how I love a hospital) later, AND SHE UPDATES! I'm finding these last few chapters quite difficult to write although I have the last two done, so if this feels choppy I apologize. THANK YOU with all my heart to all those who have reviewed and sent encouragement (and threats) for me not to give up (which I won't, I'm just slow :P) Anyways, please accept my humble offering and let me know your thoughts. XO - Holly

Andy had managed to steer Miranda, who was all but catatonic, back to the chairs of the waiting room. They could have waited back in the NICU in their comfortable corner, but Miranda had swiftly countered that suggestion with a single, icy “No”. No more description or explanation came from the editor, but Andy knew, as she always did when it came to Miranda, and as she watched the older woman’s gaze as their son was taken away, even after the doors had shut that she wanted to be as close to him as possible, even if that meant sitting in a public waiting room which thankfully was empty.

Miranda visibly flinched as the clock struck ten, the time Christopher’s operation was supposed to start and Andy knew that Miranda’s mind had drawn a vivid image of the sharp, unyielding scalpel cutting into skin that was the softest she had ever felt, and only God knew the depth of her desire to feel it again, warm and vital underneath her fingertips.

Not like Miranda at the moment, Andy thought. She was so stiff, so unyielding, even to her touch. Even so, Andy kept up the physical contact, brushing her arm lightly hoping that somewhere in her mind Miranda could derive some comfort from the interaction.

Miranda spoke, still staring at the doors intently, and so quietly Andy could barely make out the words.

“Caroline and Cassidy…” She paused. “They didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

Andy’s heart ached anew and she spoke past the lump in her throat. “They didn’t need to say goodbye, Miranda. Because this isn’t goodbye, this is like a new birthday for him. Except you don’t need to spend more than 20 hours in labour, which is a blessing for both of us.” Andy tried to tease the older woman a little, but as she suspected, nothing was going to bring Miranda back, her Miranda that was. Not even she could do it, and she could do anything, right? Everything it seemed depended on the three week old currently on the operating table and his will to live. Andy could only hope and pray that he had inherited Miranda’s spirit. For him to have come so far already, he must have.

Miranda had shut down completely after her initial comment, and more than two hours had passed before she rose to her feet and stalked over to the double doors. “It’s been three hours, surely we should have had word by now.” Miranda hissed, looking at the clock and its hands as they ticked torturously slowly.

Andy didn’t try and reason with Miranda, instead she rose to her feet and walked over slowly, letting her fingers brush Miranda’s, not grabbing, but silently asking permission. There was a long moment of stillness and stiffness before the older woman entwined their fingers. She slowly turned and raised her head to meet Andy’s eyes for the first time since they had taken their son away.

Blue hit brown as brown hit blue, and needing no words, the two women knew what the other was feeling. Andy trusted her gut as she made the choice to pull Miranda closer with their joined hands before breaking that bond and using both hands to cup Miranda’s face and bring it up to hers. The kiss was slow, tender and full of meaning Andy knew Miranda would never voice. But she could feel the pain, the agony and the guilt. She could feel Miranda ask for forgiveness and her lips and tongue both dominant and passive showed the war in her mind and her unsurety of exactly what she needed. What she did know was that she needed Andrea, and she needed her son to be alright and not have to pay for her sins. “Please, just…please, please, please.” Miranda whispered into Andy’s chest over and over as she bowed her head and rested her temple against the brunette’s breastbone, close enough to her heart that Andy knew Miranda could feel it. What she didn’t know was whether that was a comforting sound or a mocking one as they awaited the fate of their son, whose heart would have stopped beating by now. She hoped the former.

Andy wondered how often a heart could break as the older woman finally allowed herself to be held by Andy for the first time since Christopher had gone into surgery, and didn’t cry so much as tremble as Andy’s arms encircled her, sheltering her just for a moment from the outside world and its many harsh realities, and although Miranda was in her embrace, Andy too felt comforted by the presence of the older woman and she listened as a word that rarely crossed the editor’s lips was whispered repeatedly into her chest until Andy couldn’t bear it anymore and tipped her face up to meet hers in a soft, undemanding kiss. And Miranda, eyes still closed, responded, for which Andy was truly grateful as she tried to communicate with her lips what her words couldn’t quite express. Miranda’s eyes opened as they broke apart and Andy was grateful once more to see a shade of blue she recognized in Miranda’s eyes and she was going to try and keep it that way.

As she thought of what to say, immediately her mind brought up a topic that she had only been reminded of today much to her own shame and embarrassment. Christopher’s name. Andy couldn’t believe her son was nearly three weeks old and she didn’t even know his full name. But Miranda had been keeping it secret while she was still pregnant and with all the excitement and drama of the birth and consequent events, it had simply been one thing that had slipped her mind, at least until now.

“So, I saw you’d finally signed off on the babies’ birth certificates before Chris went into surgery, are you going to tell me what our son’s middle name is?

“Christopher,” Miranda corrected the younger woman as Andy knew she would, but she wasn’t prepared for the next words to come out of her mouth.

“Christopher…Andrew.”

Andy jerked back. “What?”

Miranda’s voice was soft, almost entreating. “You knew about him before I did. You protected him. You deserve to be recognized for that. I want the world to know that you are as much a part of these babies lives as any blood relation. You are as much their mother as I am, and I know,” her voice faltered. “I know that without you I wouldn’t have been strong enough to carry them. Without you they wouldn’t exist, and I am in such debt.”

“No,” Andy broke in, tears already streaming down her face. “There is no debt, Miranda. I was selfish, I didn’t want to lose you, any part of you.”

“I’ve nearly lost myself so many times since the assault. But you’ve brought me back every time, returned my children’s mother to them. Been a mother to them when I was unable and been a better one.”

“You’re wrong, Miranda. You don’t see it, but I do. I see you. I can see the shifting colour in your eyes and the set of your shoulders and I know how you’re feeling. I see you touch the babies, and I know, because of the way you touch me, that they can feel that love. Your children adore you. You are the moon and sun to them and your influence is in every word and action of those two beautiful girls you brought into my life. I see you in Christopher’s cheeks and Cora’s lips, and it makes me fall in love with them all over again because I can see you so clearly in them. You are my everything, and that began long before the birth, long before the assault, before anything. Above all else, Miranda, I want you. I am only ever going to want you, and now because of this, because of us, I know you are the only one I truly ever wanted.

Miranda let her head lay against Andy’s chest again and she spoke quietly as she listened to the steady thump. “I remember the first time I heard his heartbeat, how I yearned to hear it at every doctor’s appointment, telling me he was alright, and now although I know there is a reason for it, all I can think of is the fact that the heart I was so desperate to hear for 9 months has stopped and won’t beat again.”

Now Miranda hid her face in Andy’s shirt and now the younger woman could feel the hot tears seep through even as the editor remained silent and motionless. Andy hugged her even tighter and pressed her lips against the silky snow beneath her chin. Several minutes passed before they became aware that they were no longer alone.

Miranda stiffened in Andy’s arms as they heard footsteps approach only for her shoulders to sag slightly when she saw it was only Julie and John, the only other people in the entire world who really had any idea at all of what they were going through. Anyone else would have been eviscerated after walking in on a crying Miranda Priestly.

As it was, Andy could see Miranda was slightly uncomfortable so she decided to step forward and greet the pair while Miranda had a moment to collect herself.

“Julie, John, it’s good to see you.”

“Are you sure it’s all right? We stayed away initially, but we wanted to be here to hear that Chris made it through the surgery okay. I just need something good to come out of this.”

“I get it. Really I do, and so does Miranda.” Andy glanced over her shoulder but all she could see was the stiff back of the older woman.

Moving back towards the chairs and cramped sectional, Andy gently guided Miranda with a hand on her waist, leading her to sit down even as she was still lost in her own thoughts.

Julie spoke next. “The hospital released Jason’s body.” Her voice caught. The funeral is on Saturday. It’s going to be a small ceremony, I couldn’t bear anything larger. As it is, I can feel people staring at me with this pity in their eyes, not knowing what to say.”

“We’ll be there.” Miranda broke her silence although her voice was barely audible.

“I didn’t mean…I mean you’re more than welcome, but, don’t you want to stay with Christopher?”

“We likely won’t stay for the reception, however providing Christopher is stable I believe stepping out for a few hours should be possible. It’s the least we can do, unless…” Andy glanced at Miranda and Miranda nodded for her to speak.

“Julie, John…like Miranda said, there is nothing we can do that would be equal to the gift you’re giving us, but we’ve spoken, and we would be honoured if you would agree to being Christopher’s godparents, and Cora’s if you are willing.”

“I understand if it’s too difficult…to see him after losing Jason, and to take this on so soon.” Miranda added softly.

Julie shook her head. “I am so grateful Jason’s life will mean something to someone other than us. Chris is a reminder of Jason, yes, but although it’s painful I don’t want to forget. I want to hear his heart beat and watch your son have a chance to grow, even if I can’t watch mine. So yes, yes we accept.”

“We would be honoured,” John added gruffly as he grabbed his wife’s hand.

Echoes of her past life as Miranda’s assistant often coloured her thoughts and emotions, and it was no different now she was engaged to her. As she looked at her watch to check the time she realized it was Cora’s feeding time or at least enough time had passed since she last nursed that Miranda needed to express her milk. If there was any, Andy was chronically worried Miranda’s physical state of health combined with the stress of their situation would be enough for her health to degrade to the point where she would stop producing milk. She knew the babies could live off formula of course, but she didn’t want Miranda to see herself as a failure for not being able to provide their children the one thing that sustained them.

She leaned over and took Miranda’s hand. “Miranda, you’ve got to eat something.”

“I can’t.” Miranda whispered. “I feel ill. But I’ll go and feed Cora.”

Andy took a moment to look at Miranda, and when she did so she noted the weariness painted across the older woman’s pale, too pale features, making her look her own age for once. But she was no less beautiful to Andy whose heart ached for her and their son.

Andy’s lips pursed, when they left the house this morning she hadn’t packed any snacks thinking they wouldn’t be at the hospital this long. It was now hours past lunchtime and Andy knew by the grumbling state of her own stomach that the older woman’s was similarly empty if not moreso.

“I’m still running down to the cafeteria to get you something. I didn’t pack anything because I had no idea we’d be here this long.”

“No.” Miranda’s answer was swift and her tone of voice left no room for argument.

Still, Andy pushed. “Miranda…”

“I said no…Someone needs to stay in case there is news about Christopher.”

The blonde woman who had been sitting silently across from them stood. “How about I run down and grab us all some snacks and coffees…for those of us who can drink it.”

“Julie, no, I couldn’t ask you that.” Andy interrupted.

The blonde woman smiled. “And you didn’t, I offered. And it’s the least I can do other than just being another body sitting here waiting and worrying.”

Andy closed her eyes, telling herself to accept the help and let someone else other than her help Miranda, which it turned out was exceedingly difficult.

Finally, she opened them and the warmth in the brown eyes was genuine. “That would be great, Julie, thanks. I’ll eat anything, but I’d kill for a cup of coffee, and for Miranda maybe some fruit and yogurt? A protein bar if they have any in the vending machines?”

Miranda shot her a less than pleased look but remained silent as she rose from the chair gracefully, albeit stiffly, preparing to leave for the NICU.

“Say hello to my girl for me,” Andy called out before her stomach dropped.

“Miranda, wait!”

Miranda looked annoyed as she turned around until Andrea finished her sentence.

“The girls.”

Guilt washed over Andy as she realized they’d forgotten about the girls and she ran her hands roughly through her hair as she turned to look at Miranda. The older woman showed less emotion externally, but the dull, flat colour of her eyes and the set of her lips and shoulders told Andy in painstaking detail how Miranda was already blaming herself for not thinking of how their current situation would affect the girls, even just in their day to day schedule.

“I’m going to call Cara and make sure she’s there when they get home from school. She can either put them to bed or we can send them to Jeremy’s for the night.”

“They won’t understand why we’re sending them away again.”

“Yes, they will. They’re smart girls and they know how sick the babies are.”

Miranda still looked defeated. “Give them the choice.”

She turned to walk away, but Andy couldn’t bear the look on her face, so before she had taken three steps, Andy was up from her chair in a flash and striding over to the older woman, catching her by the hand and turning her body into her embrace.

“Andrea, this is neither the time nor place.”

Andy could feel she was dangerously close to ‘losing’ the older woman again to herself and her thoughts so she threw caution to the wind with her next actions. “Yeah? Well screw it. If today’s taught us anything it’s that none of us knows how much time we have left or what’s going to happen, and I need you to know that whatever happens, I still plan on loving you for the rest of my life, and nothing, nothing is going to change that. We are in this together. Every good day, every bad day. Just know that all my days belong to you. And I swear that if I have to make dramatic, heartfelt speeches on the hour I will o so if it means I get to keep you.

In what now felt like it was becoming a pattern, she tipped Miranda’s face up to meet hers with both hands and tried to imbue every ounce of feeling and emotion she couldn’t find a way to express vocally and knew Miranda wouldn’t ‘hear’ her if she did. Miranda responded softly before placing a hand on Andrea’s chest, gently pushing her back, her gaze still downward.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Miranda winced as she heard the familiar cry outside the nursery door, but she swept in as imperiously as ever, her face stony until she was next to Cora’s bassinet.

“Is it standard practice to let babies cry themselves into respiratory failure?”

“Ms. Priestly…Miranda, we weren’t sure whether or not to feed her since you said you were coming at one o’clock.”

Losing her patience but remembering her promise to Andrea that she would try and be ‘nice’ to the nurses, Miranda remained silent until she turned her back to the two nervous women and focused her attentions on the baby girl.

“It’s alright darling, mummy’s here now. Shhh, I know baby, I know, we’re almost there.” Miranda used one hand to lower herself into the well worn rocking chair and tucked the infant into her wrap blouse, finally offering what she wanted.

Miranda winced as Cora latched on fiercely, but the shrill cries had stopped and now the only sound that could be heard were the quick little puffs of breath through Cora’s nose as she nursed. “There, that’s all better now isn’t it?” She leaned back.

Miranda remembered the times she would lean back in her chair in her office at Runway, closing eyes that burned from examining photographs or other documents and running her hands over her growing stomach, picturing what each baby would look like, designing them in her mind and living on the hope that she would get to hold them outside of her body.

Now she hoped for the same thing, to hold both of them once again, and to please God, finally bring them home and put them to sleep in their own bassinets next to the bed, to not be here, where it felt so exposed and so public.

It took awhile for Cora to settle and drift off to sleep, even with Miranda’s quiet songs and humming that usually did the trick. Instead, the infant just seemed restless and Miranda couldn’t figure out what she wanted. She had just been fed, she was clean, she was being held as was her favourite position. Then it dawned on her what else, or who else, was missing from the picture. At least once a day they would take both babies and let them interact. And more often than not, they soothed each other in a way even their mothers couldn’t.

As the baby’s eyes finally blinked sleepily shut, Miranda murmured something as she pressed her lips to Cora’s forehead. “We’ll bring him back, my love. I promise.”

Miranda ignored the sick feeling in her stomach that came from doubting the words she had just spoken and breathed in slowly through her nose to ward off the nausea induced by that same panic she had started feeling the moment Christopher was taken out of her arms and out of her sight.

Collecting herself once more, Miranda replaced her ‘mask’ and began briskly making her way back to the waiting rooms outside surgery. Not that she was likely to admit it anytime soon, but the panic was less when she had the brunette around her. Truthfully, Andrea made everything better.

As anxious and overwrought as she was feeling, Miranda took a minute after she came back to the waiting room to admire the younger woman’s beauty, which was multiplied a thousandfold as Andy looked in her direction and a brilliant smile came to her features once she spotted Miranda.

It still made Miranda’s heart skip a beat when she realized that smile was for her. True, the younger woman smiled at everyone, but she soon realized that dazzling, megawatt grin was reserved only for her. That smile soothed her emotions somewhat but also made her wonder how the brunette could smile at a time like this. She felt terrible for thinking it, but she wondered if the younger woman was taking this seriously enough. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind though as Andy rose to greet her and led her to sit down.

Miranda opened her mouth, but Andy beat her to it.

“No news yet. It has to be soon though.” Then she changed tack completely. “Come on, eat something. Do it for me.”

Miranda rolled her eyes, too tired to fight about not being hungry and knowing she had to eat to keep herself healthy and permitted into the NICU and around the babies. “If you really insist.”

“I do.” Another eye roll ensued, but under Andy’s watchful eye a banana, a container of greek yogurt and half a protein bar were eaten by the fashion icon in that order who then raised an eyebrow archly.

“Satisfied?”

“Yup!” There was that megawatt smile again, aimed in her direction and feeling both like a benediction and a weapon meant to dissolve her defenses.

After what seemed like an eternity, the grey double doors opened, and Miranda and Andy eyed the familiar woman coming through them.

Andy and Miranda rose to meet her, and Miranda, of course, was the first to speak but she contained it to a single word that held much implied meaning.

“Well?”

“He did very well considering everything working against him.”

“What about the procedure did NOT go as planned?” Miranda correctly read between the lines of the other woman’s statement.

“You have to remember how small he is, even being the bigger twin.”

“You think I am not familiar with every inch of my child? That I would have forgotten the challenges facing him?”

“Miranda,” Andy’s voice was low and the older woman’s temper flared at the interruption before she realized what she was doing and what the younger woman was trying to keep her from doing.

Miranda let a moment pass as she inhaled and exhaled, willing to let the offense pass but not willing enough to actually apologize to the doctor. Instead, she merely let the subject drop and moved on instead of eviscerating the woman who had seen them through the last 9 months and seen Miranda delivered of 2 live, breathing children. She wasn’t so foolheaded as to forget that and forget the debt that she owed her for bringing them all through this, regardless of their current condition.

“So what went wrong?

“Let me stress once more that he’s okay and we’re comfortable moving him back to the NICU with certain precautions.”

“Part of the transplant procedure involves ‘unplugging’ the heart and attaching the body to a heart lung bypass machine which keeps blood flowing and maintains breathing. Chris…” She saw Miranda’s lips purse. “…topher’s heart continued to get worse instead of better as we’d hoped following the birth. Right before he was born his heart had enlarged to the point where it was 30% larger than it should be if going by normal fetal growth markers. At the time his heart was removed it had enlarged to 35% so it makes sense to figure it was compressing organs nearby. The amount of blood flowing through them at such a high pressure had essentially corrupted the walls of his veins and arteries to where they were so unstable it’s a miracle he didn’t go into arrest during the long labour Miranda had with him or right after. But trying to reattach a heart to an area that had suffered that kind of trauma during the actual formation of the organs is tricky, and the first time we tried to take him off the heart-lung bypass machine it didn’t work.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that he was without vital signs for about 30 seconds until we could get back in there and figure out what the problem was.”

Miranda was faintly aware of the brunette’s gasp beside her as the younger woman covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut as tears began running down her cheeks. She reached out for Miranda’s hand but the older woman flinched and jerked away without thinking.

Miranda breathed in and out slowly through her nose. She could feel the yogurt and the banana she had eaten rise up in her throat in a wave of acid and the room seemed to be going in and out of focus as she commanded herself not to faint. She turned away without a word and headed towards the single woman’s washroom, determined to make it there before the contents of her stomach were forcibly ejected, but not 3 steps from the group she faltered. Andy saw the sway and moved towards her but John was faster and managed to catch the older woman before she hit the floor.

“Miranda!” Andy yelled as she watched the editor’s step falter unnaturally - Miranda never faltered, even in 5 inch heels.

She ran to her fiancée who was coming to in John’s arms, a look of horror flashing across her features before she corrected it to its typical expression of disinterest as she tried to downplay what just happened.

John had set her down on one of the waiting room chairs and Andy was by her side in an instant.

“Miranda, what if you’d actually gotten to the bathroom and you fell and hit your head when you fainted?”

“I didn’t need witnesses to my discomposure,” Miranda comment was murmured almost silently as her eyes remained downcast and to the side, her back ramrod straight, Andy noticed, as she dealt with the humiliation of being carried, having appeared so weak and so feeble in front of the others, to the point where she was now nearly ignoring them completely, pretending they weren’t there and that the events of the last few minutes had never happened. “I’m fine, I just turned too quickly.”

Frustrated, Andy resisted the urge to roll her eyes and counter that comment with ‘Like hell.’ Instead, she used one hand to turn Miranda’s face back towards her. Seeing the tension in the older woman and the brightness in the younger woman’s eyes, the remaining three members of the group moved away to the corner of the room where they continued to discuss the surgery while Andy tried to bring Miranda back even as she watched the older woman totally shut down.

“Miranda, look at me. You could ask me nearly everything in this world, and I would give it to you if it was within my power. But it is not within my power, so do not ask me to act in any other way than as though you aren’t the single most important thing in my life. I told you I left my heart with you when I went to Tehran, and I’m telling you now, I never took it back and I know now that I can’t. And if that means coming here every day staying in a tiny, windowless room until we can bring our children home, I will do it. And if that means waiting an entire year to touch you again until you’re healed I will do that. I will wait as many days or weeks or years as it takes to marry you because the only thing on this earth that has the power to tether my soul to it is you. So you can hide, and you can pretend, in front of our daughters, our friends, your doctors, but don’t think for a second that I don’t see the real you, Miranda, and that the real you is the only thing I will ever want, and the only thing I will ever ask you for. Don’t ask me to let go, or to lose you again, or pretend that I can’t see your pain. That’s happened too many times and as a result you’ll have to forgive me if I’m overbearing or overprotective, because I can’t help but protect my heart and it lies with you. And if you try to send me away for my own good, it won’t work, because it will only mean leaving my heart behind. So please, please Miranda I am asking you, please take care of my heart.

Andy looked up and caught Dr. Jansen’s eye to signal she could come back and Dr. Jansen nodded, coming back over. “He’s incredibly strong, Miranda. And you made him that way. And I cannot imagine a fiercer protector for all of you than Andy. You made a baby who was strong enough to get through this. Hell, you made two babies who are facing and winning a harder fight than you or I ever will, and I know without you telling me, Miranda, that your life has not been without hardship and without fighting. Right now I imagine it feels like you’ve been knocked down, yes, but you’ll get up again. I don’t need to tell you that because I imagine you always have, and you have the support you need around you if you’re willing to take it, and from more people I imagine than are in this room.”

Miranda was silent through Dr. Jansen’s pep talk, her expression inscrutable.

“They’ve done an absolutely beautiful job and his new heart is working perfectly. They’re moving him to the restricted section of the NICU now, so in ten minutes or so you’ll be able to go in and see him.”

Julie and John said their goodbyes, leaving the family to be together, but with the promise from the two women that in a few days they were more than welcome to come back and see the babies, when they could hold Christopher and hear their son’s heart beat in the chest of the other tiny baby whose life they had spared.

“Keep us updated, alright? On both of them and let us know when we can come visit.”

Back in the NICU, waiting for Christopher, Miranda was silent as she looked through the incubator’s plastic walls at the tiny girl, nearly naked under the harsh lights and kicking her legs.

“That’s a good sign,” Dr. Jansen’s voice came from behind her. “It means we might be able to take her off the ventilator soon if she’s trying to breathe on her own the majority of the time and fight the tubing.”

“There’s my girl,” Miranda whispered, stroking the infant’s skin through the armholes, not wanting to disturb the tubing by taking her out. A few more moments passed and the trembling limbs quieted.

“She’s worn herself out,” Dr. Jansen chuckled.

Miranda slowly moved her hand away, careful not to wake her and nodded across the room to the section of incubators without armholes and with wheels so that they could be transported quickly into an operating room if necessary. It was here that Christopher had been moved post-surgery and for several minutes, the silent couple wordlessly watched the tiny, bandaged chest move up and down.

“When will I be able to touch him?”

“In a day or so, we just need to give his heart time to heal and to keep a steady rhythm. Even the gentlest touch is a major stimulus at the moment.”

Miranda watched the little chest rise and fall, the wires of the electrodes glued to him that monitored his heart rate coiling outwards like snakes and she had the sudden urge to tear them away from her son.

Miranda shook her head, trying to speak past the lump in her throat. “I don’t, I don’t want them on bottles for so long. I’m breastfeeding them.” She insisted lamely, using the same argument she had given directly after their birth when she saw the machines and telemetry and realized just how long it would be until her children could come home.

“And you still can,” Dr. Jansen knelt next to the wheelchair Miranda had been all but forced into as she’d only given birth hours ago. “As soon as they’re strong enough , and you can pump so that they’re still getting your milk and we may only need to supplement with formula if you’re not producing enough - which wouldn’t be uncommon for twins, and preemies at that. I promise you’re not going to lose any bond with them because the first few weeks of their life they were fed from a bottle. I guarantee you will still be spending enough time skin to skin with kangaroo care that they will know your scent and your heartbeat over anyone else’s. This doesn’t make you a bad mother, Miranda, it only changes the circumstances a little bit. Soon enough, they’ll be home and the NICU and all these temporary problems are goings to be nothing more than a bad memory.” The doctor lay a hand on Miranda’s shoulder and stepped away.

“In a week, Chris is going to look so much better, and based on his test results we can talk about finally setting a tentative,” she stressed the word knowing the editor would take her words verbatim and as law, “a tentative date to send both of them home if Cora’s scores keep improving like they have.”

Just then, Miranda’s cell rang and Dr. Jansen raised her hand in a silent farewell.

The phone rang again and Miranda glared at the offending object.

“Emily,” a voice that was dangerous in its soft-spokenness caught Andy’s attention and she wandered back over to Miranda’s side.

Miranda exhaled through her nose, quickly losing the patience she hadn’t had in the first place. The Brit was babbling on about being sorry to call when she had been told to let through no one and that she thought in this instance it was justified etc. etc.

“Emily,” the word that had brought on the rambling now quickly stopped it.

“In light of your birthplace, I would expect you to have excellent command of the English language, and as such, understand my meaning when I say I am not to be disturbed.”

Andy winced, the older woman and the Brit had developed a much closer relationship over the last year, but she had really picked the wrong time to call.

“He’s managed to do it, finally, I don’t know how, I…”

“Who has done what, Emily?” Miranda’s voice was deadly quiet and Andy could feel Emily’s courage faltering on the other end of the phone. .

“What’s up, Em?” Andy jumped in quickly to try and save the redhead about the receive the full icy blast of Miranda’s wrath, that given the stress and frustration of the day would be infinitely worse than usual. Little did either woman know it was about to get worse with the next words Emily spoke.

“Irv”. Emily managed to get out in a slightly strangled voice before clearing her throat and attempting to speak in her usual clipped tones albeit with a nervous edge. “He’s, well I don’t know how he’s managed it, I mean I’ve heard absolutely nothing and…”

“Emily,” again the softly spoken word was enough to get the redhead to get a handle on herself and snap back to attention.

“Yes, right. Somehow, he’s managed to arrange a formal meeting of the Board for today at 4pm. It’s the entire Board, I’ve had security confirm as each one has entered the building and they’re all here.”

Miranda’s face was impassive during the first part of her first assistant’s revelation, but when Emily mentioned all ten Board members were currently at Elias Clarke, Andy watched as Miranda’s face whitened, much like it had when Dr. Jansen had told them of the complications during the transplant.

“Why does that matter?” Andy questioned, not understanding the significance.

“The Board members only ever appear in full for two reasons, both of which are quite rare in occurrence.” Emily explained before Miranda took over.

“A termination with cause at the highest executive level or a formal hearing to discuss either criminal misconduct or misappropriation of the budget granted by the Board at the beginning of every fiscal year.” Miranda’s voice was still soft, but the sharpness and annoyance had disappeared from her voice and Andy, having been with the older woman through so many terrifying experiences over the last 9 months recognized the undercurrent of fear in her voice when she spoke.

“But, in either case, you should have been notified of the meeting!” Emily burst out.

“Obviously, Irv has found a way to circumvent that.”

“What would you like me to do?”

That question seemed to stump Miranda for a moment, a rarity in and of itself before she spoke aloud once more, talking partially to Andy, partially to herself, and partially to the Universe in general as Emily waited on the other end of the line, poised for whatever action Miranda directed her to take.

“Miranda, I know you love these babies. I could never doubt it, but let’s be realistic. You won’t even be able to touch Christopher until tomorrow anyway, and he’s stable for the moment. If you don’t think you’ll need me, I’ll stay here with the babies so you’re not distracted by thinking they’re alone.”

Miranda said nothing, and the younger woman could see the conflict behind her eyes.

Miranda’s eyes narrowed but she took it anyway.

“You’ll call me immediately, even if I’m in the meeting if…?”

“Yes, I promise. Now go get’em.”

Miranda quickly met Andy’s lips and then brushed her lips gently against the top of the head of the very sleepy baby in the brunette’s arms, looking once more at the incubator on the other side of the room before stalking out the NICU doors, already mentally putting on the armour she would need to do the war that was coming.