Chapter Text
Miranda Priestly did not tolerate incompetence. She constantly surrounded herself with people that could keep up with her - albeit while being a step behind, but still - while she was in their presence. As such, she ensured that her First and Second Assistants fit the aforementioned criteria.
And they did. Emily Charlton and Andrea Sachs had proven constantly that they were competent in every aspect that Miranda's world needed them to be competent in.
Well, every aspect except one, it seemed.
Miranda had noticed the shift in the atmosphere between the two women first. Because of course she had noticed. She had established an entire empire on noticing the most minute of details. If she didn't notice everything, she would not have reached where she was today.
She had noticed how their conversations, which had started out as Andrea hesitantly rambling and Emily responding with clipped, single-worded answers had morphed into longer, much more friendly exchanges.
She had noticed the way their touches lingered when they handed each other folders, itineraries, and all the likes. She had noticed the way heat crept up Andrea's neck when she realized Emily was staring for far too long at one of her newer and infinitely more stylish outfits.
And much to her absolute dismay, Miranda had noticed how both women seemed unconsciously deadset on efficiently ignoring the fact that there was an increasing lack of heterosexual explanation for some - if not all - of their interactions.
The Editor in Chief had found this final observation stupendously irritating. And unfortunately, this final observation had been the case for almost months now. Miranda didn't have enough fingers to count how many times she had entertained the minor urge to shriek 'JUST KISS HER' at the top of her lungs whenever Andrea deposited Emily's exact coffee order on her desk after delivering her own or whenever Emily spent several seconds gazing over at Andrea's clothes with all the subtlety of a teenage boy.
In short, Miranda was not sure how much longer she could tolerate this abhorrent pining. Something needed to be done about it.
Now any regular person that happened to find themselves in a similar situation would simply be straightforward about it and just tell Andrea or Emily that they needed to stop being blind cows and recognize their feelings.
Evidently, Miranda Priestly was not any regular person. Therefore, she would be addressing the matter in her own way. Emily and Andrea were grown, functional adults. They surely had the capacity to recognize their feelings on their own and act accordingly, they just needed a nudge in the right direction.
A nudge that the Editor in Chief was more than willing to give.
《♡》
1. Conveniently Coincidental Task Overlap
If you asked Miranda why her assistants were suddenly handling her dealings within much closer proximity of each other (close proximity being arranging seating charts on the same desk and reviewing documents from the same computer screen), she would glare at you from over the rims of her glasses and declare that if her upcoming events and meetings were so logistical that they required the mental force of both her assistants, then so be it, because after all that was what she had two assistants for.
In reality, the Editor in Chief had deliberately begun to allocate the same tasks to both assistants simultaneously, resulting in Andrea and Emily occupying one desk space as they worked through the material that Miranda handed to them.
She sent documents that both women needed to only one of their desks, forcing one of them to stoop well within breathing space of the other to handle the task. She gave them singular copies of files, meaning the assistants had to share as they mulled over itineraries.
Her plan seemed to be working well. She'd observed with indifferent blue eyes the way Andrea's breath visibly caught when Emily leaned in close to collect papers or review notes. The way Emily's entire body froze when Andrea handed her folders and their fingers remained in contact for far longer than what would be considered professionally appropriate. The way both women sometimes (a lot of the time) got far closer than was necessary, yet neither made the initiative to move away.
So Miranda allowed herself to be satisfied in her scheme. Because it really, truly, genuinely did seem to be working.
For a grand total of one week.
For it was after a week of flushed exchanges, painfully un-subtle stares, and far too many violations of personal space boundaries in the name of work that Miranda realized with silent yet consummate horror that the awkward oblivious yearning atmosphere had been effectively replaced with an unbearable layer of silent sexual tension that manifested itself in all of the interactions between the assistants.
This realization had arrived at the forefront of the Editor's mind with such ferocity that she had physically pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long suffering sigh. Unfortunately, she had been in the middle of a brief meeting with some junior editor, and Miranda's outward expression of violent frustration at her assistants had resulted in said junior editor going sheet white in blatant, unparalleled terror.
Case in point, these emotionally clueless women were beginning to aggravate her enough to express physical exasperation. Absolutely and completely unacceptable. A different approach was in order.
《♡》