Chapter Text
Three Days Post Alice Incident
"Shit." Another plate slipped from Maggie's fingers onto the floor. Nick hurried from upstairs to the source of the noise, eyes darting from the entryway to the living room expecting to see the door forced open on broken hinges and Alice returning for round two. Instead he found his wife, tired and weak from the heart transplant, and Isla bending down to scoop up the broken porcelain.
"Don't touch that," he commanded, picking her up and setting her aside. "Daddy will clean up."
He had become too reliant on Alice. The house had quickly returned to a permanent mess. His sleep broken by the paranoia that came with sudden noises across the house at night. In truth he had expected an army of androids at his door by now, but he knew it was irrational.
"I'm sorry," said Maggie. She leaned against the counter to steady herself.
"It's okay," he reassured her. "The doctor said it would take up to six months to fully heal. Don't push yourself."
"You're working, and I'm useless, and although Alice was a fucking psychopath... I think we need the help."
Nick paused his sweeping of the broken dishware to look up at Maggie and raise his brows in surprise. "You want to get another sim?"
"No," she groaned. "Why can't we hire a normal, breathing, human being this time? You said before you were going to buy a butler sim. Let's see if there's a real human butler who can save us."
"Okay. I'll write to Bruce Wayne and see if he will send us Alfred."
"I'm being serious, Nick. I feel bad. You're doing everything again. And I'm..."
The floor was safe again. The dustpan was set aside and Nick enveloped his perfect, beautiful wife's face into his hands. "You're wonderful as you are. Heart transplants are no joke. Take it easy, okay? I'll make an advert when I'm home from work." He checked his watch. "Speaking of, I'm late. See you later?"
She smiled, relieved, and kissed him greedily, breathing in his scent and nodding into his neck. "I'll be here."
The advert was answered the next day.
Mary Ann responded enthusiastically to Nick's online posting for a nanny. Maggie was less enthusiastic at the thought of another woman joining their household.
They waited a week for more responses. None came.
Mary Ann was hired on the tenth day.
Maggie made a poor attempt at greeting the nanny with a warm, welcoming smile. Olive skin, dark hair, and a figure to die for. An uncanny shiver travelled her spine, but the house was a mess and the children were hard work and to be blunt, Maggie and Nick were exhausted and barely found the time to make love any more.
"You must be Mary Ann," she held the door open and stepped aside.
"Just Mary is fine," the nanny replied and took the silent invitation to enter. "I was so excited to see your advertisement for the position. My house is only a few streets away, it would be crazy to turn down an opportunity like that."
Maggie nodded and smiled politely, looking over her outfit and her curves. She winced at the plain dress reminiscent of Alice.
"God knows we need the help. If you don't mind, next time you come could you wear something else?"
Mary looked down. "I'm sorry, is this inappropriate?"
"Not at all," Maggie waved her hand. "Just reminds me of those sims, you know? We really want someone human this time."
"Ah. No, I get it, totally." Mary smiled and stood confidently, taking in the sight of the living room, the toys strewn across the floor, the splatter of tomato sauce across the sideboard. "So what's the situation?"
"I'm recovering from a heart transplant, and my husband is working overtime on a construction site. We can't keep up."
"You must be pretty lonely too if your husband is away all day and the kids won't give you a break."
Maggie crossed her arms. "I just need some help in the day. Not a therapist."
"Sorry. Sorry! It's part of the child development stuff. Force of habit."
Maggie nodded. An uncomfortable silence descended between them.
"Do you want help today, or...?"
"Oh. Right. Wait here a sec." She left to the kitchen and retrieved a slim pile of papers. "Here is the contract, the going rate. You might want to take it home with you and take a look at it properly and--"
"That won't be necessary. Where do you want me to sign?" Mary took a sleek fountain pen from her purse. It reeked of old money.
"Are you sure?" Maggie blinked in surprise. Was Mary an angel or an opportunist?
The nanny took the papers and skimmed the writing. "Seems like the usual formalities. I don't have a problem with this." She signed her name in three places. Long, slanted, swooping letters: MA. Then handed the papers back to her new employer.
"If that's business concluded, I'd love to meet the kids."
Maggie couldn't decide if it was her paranoia taking toll, or the way that Mary Ann had leapt at the papers to sign, or the way she looked over the house and every hazard with the well practised ease of an android. Her mother's intuition told her to keep an eye on the nanny and not to stray too far.