Chapter Text
The sleek glass doors of Runway’s executive floor slid open with a quiet whoosh as Miranda stride through, her tailored Prada suit immaculate, her blue eyes scanning the room like a predator, making a point to mark her territory.
She has to, since the board seems to have forgotten who runs this magazine.
With Emily quick on her tail right behind her, she changed her direction and marched towards the conference room instead of her office, where she’d be meeting this new Features Editor. A very much unwelcome variable in her perfect order.
Nigel and Emily avoided Miranda’s impatient eyes that kept moving between her watch and the door. It had been 14 minutes since the meeting had started, only the new addition to their team was yet to show her face. Even Anna Wintour, whom she so dearly, deeply and sincerely, with her whole heart, hated; knew better than to make her wait.
The moment the minute hand had hit the 15, Miranda also hit the conference table with one hand, signaling the end of the meeting that had never started. She got up with her head held high, and right when she was about to push her chair, the doors opened with a thud.
“Sorry! Traffic,” was the only explanation she received as a young woman with chestnut hair and no sense of style contradicting her new work place walked inside; with no rush too, Miranda noted.
“Traffic.” Miranda grabbed her phone, and repeated in that soft, lethal voice of hers. “You do realize this is not some mediocre start-up where tardiness is excused with flimsy excuses? You are at Runway. A workplace which expects from you simple things: Precision. Professionalism. Punctuality.”
Faltering in her steps to sit right across her new boss, Andrea immediately got an insight of how her new employment was going to be. And she was not pleased, if there was one thing she didn’t do, it was to submit.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t realize my new job was in the military.”
Miranda slowly lifted her unblinking gaze from her phone to Andrea’s face. She could smell the familiar arrogance of an alpha the minute she stepped in. If there was one thing she didn’t do, it was to submit. Ideologically, never to an alpha, to be precise.
“Ma'am?” Emily choked, “You will address her as Miranda, thank you.”
Miranda paused just long enough to cut bone-deep into the prideful alpha’s eyes who thought she could assert dominance in her magazine. “Ms...?” She began pointedly, as pointedly as she hadn’t even bothered to learn this woman’s name.
“Andrea. Andrea Sachs, but you may call me Andy.” She winked just flirtatiously enough to piss off the older woman who clearly had a hard time tolerating her presence here.
“Andrea. Since you clearly need orientation on how things operate here at my magazine, let me make a few things crystal clear: first, I expect punctuality from all my employees, I do not like to be kept waiting as I have more pressing issues that need my attention. Secondly, this is a professional environment, not a bar.”
Her judging eyes flickered over Andrea’s disheveled appearance, the wrinkled shirt that looked like she either slept on it the night before or buttoned it on her way here, the messy hair, the unmatching pants.
“And third? If you intend to remain here at Runway, I suggest you learn what discipline is, though that may be the breaking point for you since I have no means to educate you at this point in your career.”
Andrea put her hand in the back of the chair she was supposed to be sitting on, a slow smirk curled at her lips. “Discipline?” She repeated, tilting her head slightly. “Funny you should mention that. Because I do know a few things about that myself.”
Miranda’s manicured fingers tightened on the edge of the arm of her own chair as Emily and Nigel simply stared at each other, then between the two women in a throwdown.
“How amusing for you to inform us of your personal proclivities,” Miranda drawled, “Though I fail to see how they relate to your professional conduct at this magazine.”
She finally pushed her chair back abruptly, and took a few steps to round the table. “As you’re -not so- fashionably late, this meeting is over. My assistant will show you to your office. Do try to get lost on the way.”
She could barely take a few steps towards the door before Andrea was suddenly in her personal space, blocking her way out.
“I really doubt this meeting is over, Miranda. Late or not, I’m here now. So, sit back down.”
It would be an understatement to say Miranda was seething inside. Emily sucked in a sharp breath from the corner of the room while Nigel subtly shifted his weight forward, ready to intervene if this catfight -more of a Rottweiler vs. Husky fight, in their case- escalated further.
“You misunderstand your position here,” Miranda’s voice dropped to an icy whisper meant for Andrea only, although everyone in the room had grown additional ears already to be able to hear the orders from the ever whispering woman.
“You are not my superior. You do not give me orders.” Her chin lifted slightly, the unnatural omega dominance display despite being biologically submissive by nature took Andrea by surprise, rather than angering her. “And you will never dare to do so again.”
Andrea's smirk faltered for just a second, no one had ever challenged her dominance like this before, not even her previous bosses, as it was only natural. Especially not some elegant but clearly narcissistic omega who looked like she could freeze not only her new workplace but hell over with those sharp blue eyes.
Very… captivating sharp blue eyes.
But pride won out.
She leaned in closer, their noses almost touching now as Andrea deliberately invaded Miranda’s personal space further: “Or what?” she whispered back challengingly, but her tone was fiery instead of Miranda’s iciness. “You’ll fire me? Well, you can’t. I know the board hired me specifically to shake things up around here… To keep you in check, would be more accurate.”
The only movement from Miranda was the slow, deliberate lift of her groomed eyebrow as she stared Andrea down like a lioness sizing up an overconfident hyena, almost -almost- covering up the fact that she was evidently shorter than the younger woman.
“Whoever boosted your ego failed to mention that no one can keep me in check, I see. Although you’re correct about one thing, the board did hire you to shake things up, that’s all you’re here for.” A beat of silence stretched between them before Miranda added with deadly calm:
“The same board, however, hired me to run this magazine for the past twenty years. And I can assure you-“ Her hand suddenly shot out and gripped Andrea's chin firmly between her thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact. “-no one shakes me. You are no exception, Andrea.”
Nigel actually dropped his pen in shock at seeing Miranda physically confronting someone like this for what might've been… ever? His oldest friend would run from contact with any living being; especially with an alpha, as if they’re all contaminated. Even if this move was clearly to prove her power over the new alpha, it still was a once in a lifetime sight.
Andrea’s breath hitched the moment Miranda’s fingers made contact with her skin; no one had ever dared touch her in this manner, let alone an omega, as she made up her mind on what she is after she smelled the older woman up-close. Her scent was not strong, which made her think she must be on suppressants.
Shame, she thought involuntarily. She had no doubt the woman would smell deliciously when in heat.
Andrea shook herself from those thoughts. For a split second, her instincts flared: fight back, push her away, assert herself… but something stopped her. Maybe it was the way Miranda held eye contact without flinching despite their biological difference, and height. Or maybe it was how effortlessly she commanded control over the alpha who usually got obeyed in an instant by all omegas on sight.
Instead of reacting violently like most alphas would in that situation, she stayed put, her face still as challenging even though she has long forgotten what they were even talking about.
Miranda didn’t let go immediately; instead, she held eye contact just a heartbeat longer to drive the point home before releasing Andrea with an elegant flick of her wrist. “Now,” She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her blazer sleeve as if nothing monumental had just happened in this room. Mostly… physically.
“As I was saying prior to your rude interruption… I expect you to follow my directions, starting with following Emily to your office. You will report directly to me daily at 8:30 AM sharp regarding feature spreads.”
She took a few steps back before she left. “And you will dress appropriately.”
Emily coughed into her fist proudly. Nigel simply sat there looking like he’d seen God descend upon Runway headquarters personally today.
Meanwhile Andrea looked after the closed door, rubbing her jaw where manicured but still nothing less than claws left faint marks; still reeling internally at how easily Miranda Priestly dismantled any challenge thrown at her by Andrea, without breaking sweat visibly even once.
Andrea shook herself sharply once the shock of the moment passed, irritation replacing it, along with an arousal she tried to suppress. She had never been manhandled like that. And by an omega? Unheard of.
Not that she saw them as beings beneath herself, on the contrary; she always thought they were such blessings. Such blessings that warmed her bed almost every day or two. Every week at the very least, if she was too busy.
She didn’t see their whole being just as means to an end, as sexually gifted as most of them were, but she didn’t care much about their personalities either. She didn’t bother getting to know one, she hardly shared the bed with the same one again, and definitely never her own bed. She’s never once taken one home, this was her way of keeping the desired distance. It also helped afterwards if they wanted to stay in touch, as Andy never wanted to stay in touch.
She knew she was not a saint, but she liked to think she was much better than the other alphas out there who used omegas just as a simple hole, and nothing more. Not even talking about the alphas who slaved, abused, tortured and humiliated omegas out there. Maybe that was why she didn’t have many friends besides Doug and Lily, also omegas, as she herself as an alpha could barely stand the other alphas. Most of them were disgusting beings, and the others were only too good at hiding it, who knew what they did behind closed doors. Andrea only had some idea. She got the whole prejudice of some omegas who didn’t mate with alphas, they were either also disgusted or simply wanted to protect themselves. She respected that decision, and only rarely tried to change one’s mind by showing how much she did.
Overall though, Andrea was simply not bothered by any of it. She didn’t have to try hard to bed one, then she would scratch their name. She didn’t get attached, she couldn’t- even if she tried to. Nothing has ever stirred her insides beyond her little friend down there. She refused vulnerability, that much was true; but not in any situation had she ever faced the control slipping away either, or her heart.
Her alpha instincts were strong, she made the name justice. She has wanted many omegas, and got them all; but she has never wanted to be with one, emotionally.
She was at a point where she thought she was incapable of love, as it never showed up for her in her 29 years of life.
Emily clearing her throat brought her back to the moment. “I’ll show you to your office now, Ms. Sachs.”
Andrea turned her head, and checked the woman out for the first time ever since stepping foot inside the room. To her defense, she was too busy dealing with that white squall.
“Emily, right? Call me Andy, please.”
The thud of the door echoed through her spacious office, making her second assistant flinch slightly outside. Miranda didn’t care about looking calm.
She stormed over to her desk and sank into her chair with a frustrated sigh, rubbing at her temples as she replayed Andrea’s defiance in vivid detail, remembering the infuriating smirk, the smug challenge in those eyes, that irritating alpha confidence. The board had gone unavoidably too far this time- but oh, did they know her too well.
Who did she think she is, undermining Miranda’s authority? That woman had no respect for hierarchy or professionalism whatsoever. Not even a shred of it.
Miranda reached for the intercom on her desk when she saw Emily making her way back- a clear signal to Emily that she needed immediate attention. The door opened seconds later, revealing her first assistant standing there with a clipboard in hand, already sensing her boss’s mood from the previous encounter.
“Yes, Miranda?” Emily asked cautiously.
Miranda didn’t look up as she spoke:
“Find out everything you can and more about that Features Editor. Her background, previous employment history… any scandals or red flags I should be aware of.”
“So, a background check.”
“That’s what I said, Emily.”
“I’m sorry, Miranda. I just meant to say…” Emily whispered conspiratorially, “if you needed me to look for things that are not documented or simply talked about- off the record, I could find out about that also-“
“That’s what I said, Emily.”
Emily knocked gently before entering, holding a thick folder in her hands. She placed it carefully on Miranda’s desk, then stepped back to give her space. “Here’s everything I could find, Andrea Sachs has worked at two different magazines prior to Runway; Vogue for a year as an assistant and most recently Harper's Bazaar where she was the Features Director for three years. It’s all in there,” She points to the folder.
“There are no major scandals or lawsuits against her, nothing bad has been said about her either… but there is something I heard of, though I’m not sure how relevant that may-”
Miranda finally looked up from the papers she’d been skimming through with interest when Emily said that last part. “Go on.”
Emily hesitated for a brief second before continuing, choosing her words carefully to bring this matter up to her boss. “Well... there are rumours that Andrea is somewhat of a... player. In terms of relationships, I mean.”
She cleared her throat slightly. “Several women from the industry have mentioned sleeping with her, omegas specifically. From my conversations with them, what I could gather was that there were no strings attached, purely physical arrangements.”
Miranda's expression didn’t change visibly, although that information made her nauseous for some reason- which she dismissed as disgust. To make her interest unnoticeable, she tried to save face. “So, you’re telling me my new Features Editor has no issue using people for casual sex?”
When Emily nodded, she continued: “And how is that relevant to my magazine?”
Emily’s mouth fell open, didn’t she just say it was in no way relevant beforehand. She should be getting paid way more than she is for simply putting up with this woman’s amnesia.
“Let me know only if she brings any drama into the office, I will not let that revolting alpha establish a harem in Runway.” Miranda clarified, though there was an odd tension in her voice that even Emily caught onto.
“I will let you know if there are any complaints or gossips but… knowing alphas like that, it might just be a matter of time.”
Miranda nodded stiffly and dismissed Emily with a wave of her hand. “That’s all.”
Once the door closed behind Emily, Miranda leaned back in her chair and exhaled deeply. She rubbed her temples again, but this time not just from frustration. The mental image of her new Features Editor sleeping with random omegas was… irritating, to say the least.
No, worse than that. It made her stomach twist unpleasantly for reasons she refused to examine too closely.
Heavens, why did she even care…
She told herself it was purely professional concern, Andrea’s personal life could reflect poorly on Runway if scandals surfaced. That had to be it. In no way did she care for anything else besides that, she could freely say she already hated the woman. Put her right under Anna and Irving on the list type of a hate.
She knew alphas like that all too well, spent all her life avoiding them. They were all sad excuses of people who got off on belittling Miranda’s kind. She has always been careful and guarded to not let one overpower her, and managed doing so quite well. Now, at this point in her career, she was an omega with many alphas working under her; they all feared her, she made that possible on her own.
Never once has she been interested in an alpha in her 50 years in this life, she found them all to be extremely disgusting beings, that was her chosen way of describing them. She promised herself to never let one even get near her, let alone touch her body, she would never stoop to that level. Her two previous husbands have been betas, she deliberately picked them herself. She didn’t even have alpha friends, truly despised them all. They all were the same, never cared for anything but themselves, and definitely not for omegas.
Just so she would never be in need of one, she had started taking suppressants three decades ago, before even getting married. Betas could hardly please her or help her get through her heat, and she was not willing to go to an alpha for help. Best way to solve the problem was avoiding her whole nature, she would not be driven by biology. She was a woman of her own.
Whenever she was in heat, she would feel it coming a week before- thanks to her suppressants it never happened out of nowhere, then take a couple days off until it would pass on its own with minor inconveniences such as tiredness, shortness of breath and fever. She never needed anyone to help her through it, never had been desperate enough, and she thrived on it.
With that reminder, Miranda picked up her phone and dialed the pharmacy, ordering more suppressants. She had enough for two months already but she preferred to always be prepared, never risk running out when needed most.
As soon as that was done, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small pillbox with today’s dose inside. She dry-swallowed it without a second thought, this routine was as natural to her as breathing by now.
The faintest twinge of discomfort prickled at the back of her mind; not from taking another pill, she barely noticed those anymore, but from earlier thoughts… about a certain alpha.
Why was she even sparing a thought on that annoying woman, she didn’t know. It also shouldn’t matter who slept with whom outside Runway walls, it didn't affect business unless it became messy publicly.
She shook off whatever weird feeling lingered, quickly dismissing her every thought of the alpha who slept with every female fly that flew her direction, reasonably so- she involuntarily thought, that smug face was attractive enough to not let it go to waste…
Miranda didn’t do this, didn’t entertain fantasies about alphas, and clearly this one was no different, had no respect for omegas. The woman didn’t even care for her boss- only because Miranda was an omega, and she was bold enough to make sexual innuendos. There was no reason for Andrea to occupy her mind like this, she was being ridiculous. Obviously, the previous challenge had affected her body in an unexpected way that she was shaken up a little bit, even if she told Andrea no one was able to do that. But that was it, nothing more. As that was also not her doing, but her nature’s that she couldn’t deny no matter how hard she wished to.
She opened the folder Emily had brought again, forcing herself to focus on Andrea’s professional background instead. The woman was competent at least, if slightly reckless in her social life, but that didn't matter as long as she got the job done.
After half an hour of reviewing Andrea’s credentials, Miranda finally closed the folder with a decisive snap. She had made up her mind: just as the board forced on her, Andrea would stay; but on Miranda’s terms.
If Andrea kept her act of disrespect and worse, flirting; tomorrow’s meeting with her new Features Editor wouldn’t just be about work expectations. It would also establish one very clear boundary, in every area they were to be involved with each other:
Andrea Sachs would be keeping her paws off of her.