DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For the Wake the Muse comment fication on the DWP comm on LJ. Prompt by michi6877: artificial insemination.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To qhfletcher[at]gmail.com

We're Having A Baby Series: And Baby Makes Four, Maybe Five
By quiethearted (QH Fletcher)

 

Andy rushed up the steps of the townhouse. Cruella had called her demanding to see her immediately. Used to her lover's histrionics, Andy had attempted to calm Cruella with an explanation that she'd be getting off work in an hour and would meet her then, but Cruella had been insistent. Her last statement, that a child's life was at stake and Miranda needed Andy there as well, had Andy on her feet and grabbing for her purse. Fearing that something was wrong with one of the twins, Andy had run six blocks before finding a cab and then left it behind in a traffic jam to race the remaining four on foot. Her hand shook so violently that it seemed to take forever to get her key in the door. At last she heard the satisfying click and flew into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Andy ran through the house shouting for Cruella and Miranda alternatively until she heard a soft voice respond, "Andréa darling, whatever is the matter?"

"Cru—Cruella ca-called," Andy gasped, fighting for breath. "Th-the girls. Are th-they all right? What's happened?"

Miranda looked back over her shoulder at someone behind her who was as yet out of sight and frowned. "Really, Cruella, must you always be so dramatic? You've frightened Andréa half to death."

Cruella moved to stand next to Miranda at the top of the stairs. "But, Lovey, it is dramatic, exciting, thrilling!"

"What the hell is going on?" Andy snapped, losing her patience. "I thought one of the twins was half dead or something. I left without finishing my story, and you know I'm on a deadline. One I'd have been well ahead of if you two hadn't kept me up all last night."

Visibly shivering, Cruella clutched Miranda to her side. "Last night was divine, was it not? And the only 'no' I remember you voicing was followed by 'don't stop!' So don't act as if it was all our fault. Now come upstairs, and let us tell you the glorious news."

Grumbling, Andy trudged up the stairs. Honestly, sometimes Cruella made her just want to scream and not in a good way, though there was that, too. At the top of the stairs, they laid a kiss on each of Andy's cheeks and, taking Andy's arms, escorted her into the newly enlarged study. Miranda had had a wall knocked out and added the space of the now defunct third guestroom to create a workspace big enough for them all. Not that Andy ever managed to get any work done with both of them in residence. She might be significantly younger than both, but their combined libidos were eventually going to be the death of her. Though they were quite content to play together, it was apparent from the beginning that she, Andy, was their favorite toy. If they weren't careful one or the other was going to wind her too tight, and then they'd be faced with a broken spring of the worse kind.

Miranda shoved Andy gently into a chair while Cruella poured them each a drink. Andy could tell they were both practically vibrating with excitement, and she felt a moment of disquiet. To have both her lovers this wound up about something at the same time usually meant a migraine for Andy. Miranda had always been decisive and levelheaded, but somehow Cruella managed to eradicate all of Miranda's common sense in mere seconds when they were in consensus on a topic. Luckily, they seldom agreed about anything, and Andy had learned to prefer their bickering to the united front of Dragon Lady and Wicked Witch of the Catwalk.

Taking a fortifying drink, Andy stared from one to the other as they sat side by side on the couch across from her. "All right, what's going on?"

"We're having a baby!" Cruella crowed, clapping her hands together in delight.

Andy knocked back the rest of her cocktail in two healthy swallows. "Which one of you is pregnant?" she asked, terrified of the idea of rampaging hormones from either of them added to the mix of their daily lives. She wasn't the least bit concerned about their fidelity, but she wouldn't put it past either one of them to have headed off to a fertility clinic on her own or arm in arm.

"Andréa, do be serious. Of course, neither Cruella nor myself has any interest in being pregnant at our ages," Miranda huffed.

"So, not you," Andy gestured to Cruella who shook her head adamantly, "or you," she indicated Miranda who nodded her agreement. "Well, that only leaves…" Andy's eyes grew wide. "Oh, just hold on one damned minute here! Do I even get a vote?"

"Really, Andréa, of course you get a vote. There are names to select, an obstetrician to pick, and the donor, we can't forget about the donor."

"I meant a vote on whether or not I wanted to even have a baby right now," Andy interrupted. "And what do you mean NAMES? What names? That's plural. Plural implies more than one baby. I don't even know for sure I want one yet, and you've already put me down for two or more. I've got rights here, you know?"

"This is not a federal case, Andréa," Miranda scoffed. "It's a simple discussion on the possibility of expanding our family."

"I'm not hearing a discussion," Andy objected. "I'm hearing an announcement of impending birth!"

"Oh, Darling, we know you're not pregnant yet," Cruella gushed. "But you're young and healthy. We'll have you knocked up in no time!"

"My god, Cruella, must you be so crass," Miranda sniffed disdainfully.

"You don't call it crass when I'm talking about having my mouth full of your p—"

Miranda clamped her hand over Cruella's mouth before she could continue. "We've had this discussion before, Cruella. You will confine such talk to the bedroom."

"Hmmpf, you never complain when we don't confine sex to the bedroom. I don't understand why I can't talk about it in other places as well," Cruella huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and poking out her lips in a pout.

"Is it so terribly ridiculous to request some modicum of propriety outside of our sexual endeavors?" Miranda shot back, pursing her lips and flashing Cruella an icy glare. "We are not barnyard animals."

"Some of us are not. I distinctly recall hearing you baaaaaaaa last night while you were rutting with Andy," Cruella sniped, eyes shooting fire.

"Will you two stop!?" Andy shouted. "Damn. Sometimes I have to wonder if you even like each other."

Cruella turned a shocked look on Andy as tears shimmered in her eyes. "B-but I adore Miranda!"

"I love Cruella with all my heart," Miranda insisted, blue eyes bleeding hurt at the suggestion that the reality was otherwise. "How could you question that, Andréa?"

They wrapped their arms around each other and sniffled softly into each other's necks.

"This isn't your first drink, is it?" Andy asked suspiciously. "When did you two get off work today?"

"Hours ago," Cruella sniffled. "I called Miranda, and she met me for lunch. When I told her my idea she was hesitant at first but soon saw what a joyful addition a child would be to our lives."

"Yes, I did have my concerns at first, but the thought of a precocious little girl the sheer image of you was so enchanting that I quickly saw Cruella's point," Miranda explained.

Andy sighed. It really wasn't fair that both her lovers could drain a distillery and show no outward sign of it until they came up with one of their mad, drunken plots. Though she supposed she shouldn't complain. That was, after all, how they came up with the idea to seduce her. "Have you two thought about the logistics of getting me pregnant in the first place?" Andy figured it would be a good idea to know how far along they'd gotten in their master plan.

"Oh, yes, Darling," Cruella said gleefully. She grabbed for one of her voluminous handbags that sat beside the couch and dug around in it frantically. "Now where did that go to? Oh, here." She whipped out a turkey baster and waved it around. "I thought the do-it-at-home method might be fun."

Andy burst out laughing while Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned.

"Cruella, dearest," Miranda began. "That method is a myth. It simply does not work."

Cruella pouted. "No?"

"Umm, well, actually, I have heard of it working," Andy admitted, but quickly held up her hand to forestall Cruella, who brightened considerably at the pronouncement. "But that's not how we'd go about it. If I agree to this, and that's a big if, we'd go to a clinic and have it done by a doctor."

Cruella glared, exposing her teeth. "No! That simply will not happen!"

"I need a drink," Miranda muttered, rising and walking to the bar. She reached for Andy's glass as well when she passed, earning a grateful look, though Andy was none too sure Miranda needed more alcohol. As she prepared the drinks, Miranda asked over her shoulder as if not wanting to actually face the answer, "Cruella dearest, what could possibly be your objection to a nice, safe, sanitary physician?"

"That would require some stranger touching our Andy down there," she gestured vaguely toward Andy's lap. "I won't have it!"

Accepting the offered glass from Miranda, Andy sent her a "Do you want to handle this one?" look, only to receive a negative response. Great. Sometimes Andy suspected their lover was more than a little unhinged. At other times, she was sure of it. This was one of those times.

"Cruella, baby, I want you to listen to me," Andy said sitting forward. "I have a doctor, a gynecologist, who gives me an exam every year, a pap smear. That's very similar to what you're talking about with artificial insemination."

"You let some random MAN touch you?" Cruella asked aghast at the concept.

Andy looked to Miranda for help, who turned away from them both as if she'd never met them before. Miranda never had patience when Cruella started to mentally swing from the chandelier.

"He's not a random man, he's a highly trained professional with years of education ," Andy explained.

"I don't like it, not one bloody bit," Cruella snapped. "You will cease seeing him immediately."

Miranda spun around and glared at Cruella. "Now listen up, you ruddy loon, you see a gynecologist yourself every year. Now stop this nonsense immediately."

"That is entirely different," Cruella sniffed. "And I am not a loon. I simply have a mild dissociative condition of which you are well aware. That was unnecessarily cruel, Miranda. I shan't forgive you."

"And why exactly would I want to be forgiven by you?" Miranda hissed, rising to her feet to tower over Cruella. "The truth is often nasty, but it's about time you heard it."

"Not from a middle-aged crackpot like you, you ruddy cow," Cruella shot back, standing up to go toe to toe with Miranda.

"I'll have the baby," Andy said quietly.

"What?"

"What?"

Two head whipped around to face Andy, their argument forgotten.

"I said, I'll have the baby," Andy replied. "Miranda will make the arrangements. You'll both be there so Cruella can make sure nothing funny goes on. You will not fight over decorating the nursery. If you can't agree, I'll pick a third option, and you'll both like it. Oh, and I'll pick the name, or names, whatever. And no more fighting. It's bad for the baby. I'll at least get nine months of peace out of this. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Miranda and Cruella chorused as they flew at Andy, scattering kisses over her face.

Andy sighed as two sets of hands began to take possession of her body. She'd make the deadline if she worked through lunch tomorrow, though she wouldn't put it past these two to send a caterer to her office. She really did love them both dearly, as trying as they could be, and if she were entirely honest, she did want a child, or children, with them. She just hadn't planned on doing it today. Two sets of lips latching onto her nipples drove any other thoughts from her mind. Andy could do nothing more than feel as her two lovers each slipped in a finger to claim her core. She fleetingly hoped as her first orgasm of the night crashed over her that they at least allowed her to rest during the delivery.

The End

Return to The Devil Wears Prada Fiction

Return to Main Page