Andy: Go away.
Miranda: You are being ridiculous. Turn around.
Andy: We’re in the middle of a ballroom, Miranda. Won’t people wonder why you’re talking to the peasants?
Miranda: Andrea…
Andy: What? I’m not here as your date, am I?
Miranda: Yes, you are.
Andy: But we can’t dance together. Or stand together. Or even have a drink together.
Miranda: We have drinks.
Andy: That’s not the point.
Miranda: I’m working, Andrea. This is not a conventional date. But I wanted you here, with me.
Andy: You’re not acting like it.
Miranda: Oh for God’s—
(she grabs Andy and kisses her, drawing gasps from around the room)
Andy: Oh you did not—
Miranda: I very much did.
Andy: You know you just outed us to the entire New York media, right?
Miranda: Don’t be silly. There are reporters from all over the world here tonight. I do hope someone had their camera ready.
Andy: You… want people to know?
Miranda: Hiding is not my strong suit. I’m too noticeable for it.
Andy: You’re insane.
Miranda: My last three therapists would probably agree.
Andy: Wanna do it again?
Miranda: I don’t see why not.
(they kiss, again, but the crowd has already moved on)
