Eyes of Blue, Heart of Stone (Baroness X Femme Reader)

Impending Doom

AN
Baronessfangirl, I'm not sorry :)

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Familiar words greeted you the next morning.

"I'd like to speak with the Baroness. Can you direct me to her office?" Asked a blonde, who had a straight face. "Who are you?" You asked, defensively. Last time this ordeal caused shedloads of drama that you weren't going to let slide again. "I went to school with Vic." She replied. Right like that will help your case. "Okay. And your name is?" You prompted.

She cracked a smile. "I assume you've met someone less friendly with Victoria then. My name is Miranda, Miranda Priestly." She said calmly.

That's Miranda Priestly. She's a designer in New York now, I think.

You recognised the face a little bit more now. Her hair had lightened up, very much. She wore signs of age, but still had a conventional beauty about her. She wasn't really your type though.

"I'll check if she is available." You replied, walking up to Victoria's office.

Knock three times before you come in.

"What is the matter love?" Victoria asked. "Miranda Priestly is here to see you." You replied. "May I let her in?" You asked. With all of her school drama being regurgitated, it may not have been well advised for any face from school (be it positive or evil incarnate) to see Victoria. "That's alright with me. Send her in." Victoria smiled.

When Miranda walked in, you read Victoria for any signs of tension. One slither of discomfort and you would throw her out.

"Is your assistant going to just loiter here?" Miranda sneered, looking you up and down. "Y/N, I believe that the two of us are all alright." Victoria reassured. "Would you be a dear and get us some coffee? Usual please." She smiled. "Of course." You replied. "Ms Priestly?" You asked. "I'll take a no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot and three drip coffees with room for milk." You felt a smirk brewing. That was an order you were used to. Something irritatingly specific.

"I'll get right on that."

Miranda watched you leave. "So, did you hear that old bat Mistress Hardgreaves died?" She asked. "Did she? What happened?" Victoria asked, holding back a cheer of delight. "Fell out of a window on a case or something. Not sure of the details. Agatha didn't tell me much." Miranda admitted. Victoria nodded. "In contact with her are you?" She asked, changing her tone and putting her guard up. "I ran into her. I've only just gotten back to the UK."

"Ah yeah. You're in New York."

"Yeah. Lots changed."

"You're telling me! You got a family?" Victoria asked, hopefully. Miranda didn't care for all the cushy paternal shit. She wanted a career, just like Victoria wanted a career. "I've got twins, actually." Miranda replied. "Oh, that's lovely." Victoria lied. Miranda was different, she thought. "Did you and the baron have any children before his passing?" Miranda asked.

You came in at the perfect time. "Coffee." You stated. When Miranda was distracted, you blew Victoria a kiss of reassurance. She mimed catching it.

"Actually, Mimi, it was my miscarriage that broke poor Hans." Victoria admitted, putting her best show on. "Cuntbag." You masked the insult in a cough. "Oh that's devastating, I never should have spoken, dear." Miranda apologised. "No worries, care to join Y/N dear?" Vic asked, with a smile.

You sat down and pulled out some "paperwork" to work on. That "paperwork" being your sketchbook.

"Are you going to the reunion dinner Victoria?" Miranda asked. "Oh god that thing! I'm debating if I'm going to go if I'm brutally honest." Victoria replied.

Her exact words were: "I would rather pluck my own eyeballs than make small talk with Elizabeth and Agatha."

Miranda looked rather disappointed. "I was rather hoping you did. Wouldn't it be nice to show them how far you've gone? What you've achieved?"

"Leopards don't change their spots Miranda."

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"Victoria- what happened?" Miranda asked, looking as though she had seen a ghost. Victoria's arms were coated in bug bites. The itchy irritants were nothing compared to the punishment she faced afterwards.

"My precious little Agatha wouldn't do such a thing!"

Her face, which she spent most mornings dolling up, had a huge, ugly red belt mark. It matched with her bites, in a humiliating way.

"Eliza. Eliza and Agatha happened."

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There was a couple more minutes of small talk until Miranda stated that she had to go. She and Victoria said her goodbyes and she left.

The strange sense of impending doom hung above you still...

————

"I'll go after it myself tonight."