Title: The Child Whisperer

Author: Susan L. Carr

Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada

Genre: AU

Pairing: Miranda/Andrea

Rating: M

Archive: P&P, Cryptic Rain. Others: Do not archive without permission.

Disclaimer: Being a bleeding heart liberal, I am totally opposed to the idea of owning other human beings. So obviously they're not mine.

Author's Note: Written for the Live Journal's Dvlwears_prada community's Valentine's Day 2009 Challenge.

Thanks to grdnofevrythng for the encouragement and not letting me give up on this and for being my pinch-beta.

Thanks to mirandyscrow for her wonderful fount of knowledge regarding child psychology. Cohen belongs to you, baby.

Story Notes: For purposes of this story, Andy's a little older, Miranda had her daughters at a younger age and the time is now and not when the movie took place.

Dedication: For sporkmetender whose perfect gift of love is a story. The prompt: Andy's a single mom (maybe a widow) and Miranda ends up being hired as her nanny. A slow pacing to the relationship is a plus as is smut and witty/sarcastic banter.

Summary: Andy needs help with her son and Miranda steps into her life.

Andy opened the door to the townhouse. Standing in front of her was an elegantly dressed, striking woman with silver-white hair. Andy blinked momentarily at the bright spring sun shining off of it and into her eyes.

"Hello," she said brightly as the woman pulled off a pair of D&G sunglasses. "You must be the referral from Dr. Victor."

The woman slowly scanned Andy from head to toe and then back again. "Indeed," she finally drawled. "How astute. May I come in?"

Andy was non-plussed for a moment, but then opened the door widely to allow the woman to enter. She closed the door and asked, "Can I take your coat?"

"No," the woman said and slowly scanned the foyer and hallway.

"All right, then," Andy said. "This way please." She led the way to her ground-floor office and motioned for the woman to take a seat. Rather than sit behind the desk, Andy took the other chair.

The woman pulled a leather folder from her briefcase and handed it to Andy, who opened it and quickly scanned the contents. "You will find my credentials are impeccable, Mrs. Benjamin," the woman stated.

"Oh, it's Ms. Sachs," Andy said. "I kept my maiden name for professional reasons, Mrs. Priestley."

"I prefer Miranda," she said.

"Very well," Andy said. "Everyone calls me Andy."

Miranda made a small face that Andy couldn't quite interpret and she went back to perusing the contents of the folder. "Well, it certainly appears that you're qualified, Miranda. However, I've been through three other qualified nannies in the past year that weren't able to do the job. What makes you different?"

"I am not different, Ms. Sachs," Miranda said. "I am unique. I understand that your son has had increasing behavioral problems over the past eighteen months, is that correct? That his school grades are dropping, he's getting into fights and often takes off on his own without supervision?"

"Yes," Andy answered with a wry smile. "And as you know, New York City is not a place for a seven-year-old to be wandering around. I think I get another gray hair every time the police bring him home."

"And these problems stem from the loss of his father, nearly two years ago, I believe?"

"Yes," Andy replied again. "Cohen was very close with his father. He took his dad's death very hard."

"Mmm," Miranda said. "My condolences to you both." She continued before Andy could reply. "Be that as it may, Ms. Sachs, I do have experience working with troubled children, including my own."

"I don't see any certifications or degrees here pertaining to child psychology," Andy pointed out, lifting the folder a bit.

"I did not start to work with other children until after my daughters were grown," Miranda answered.

"What did you do before?"

"I worked in fashion," Miranda said simply.

"Fashion?" Andy exclaimed. "How do you go from fashion to being a nanny?"

"I am not a nanny, Ms. Sachs," Miranda said and Andy noted that if Miranda's posture could have gotten any straighter, it would have. "I am much more than that as I am sure you will clearly ascertain in time. May I speak with your son?"

Andy sat for a moment and drummed her fingers on Miranda's portfolio while she thought. After the last nanny had quit and the agency claimed they didn't have anyone qualified to handle Cohen, she was at her wit's end until Cohen's doctor recommended a woman he knew who was good with troubled children. Desperate, Andy agreed to meet with her. Now sitting in front of the woman, Andy wasn't sure it would be a good idea. Miranda seemed to be hard and cold and nothing like the other nannies had been. On the other hand, that might be an advantage; Cohen did not need someone to coddle him. Trusting her instincts, she decided to at least see how the woman interacted with her son.

"Very well," she said standing up. Miranda immediately followed suit, leaving her coat and bag behind. "He's in the family room."

Andy noted that Miranda's eyes constantly scanned the décor of the townhouse as she led the way up the stairs and to Andy's eye, she didn't seem impressed. Finally, Miranda turned to her and asked, "Is it just you and Cohen who live here, Ms. Sachs?"

"Most of the time," Andy replied. "My parents visit on occasion and my father-in-law stays here when he's in town. He's…"

"No no," Miranda interrupted. "I know who your father-in-law is, Ms. Sachs. There's no need to explain."

"Of course," Andy replied and opened a door on the second floor. Inside was a cozy and warm room that Andy was quite proud of, it being one of the few rooms in the townhouse she had decorated herself. A small, dark-haired boy was lying on the floor and watching television.

"Cohen?" Andy said. "I'd like you to meet someone."

The boy glanced at the two of them. "New nanny?" he asked with a sneer.

"Perhaps," Andy replied and looked at Miranda. She noted that Miranda was watching him carefully. "This is Mrs. Priestley. She'd like to talk with you and I'd appreciate it if you could be polite to her."

Cohen shrugged and went back to his program. Miranda pursed her lips for a moment and then turned to Andy. "If you don't mind, Ms. Sachs, I'd like to discuss the situation with your son alone. That's all," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Andy stared at her. "Wait a minute! I don't think…"

"Please, Ms. Sachs," Miranda said. "I assure you, he is in good hands."

Andy again looked at Miranda carefully and came to a quick decision. Either Miranda could handle him or she'd be chewed up and spit out before the afternoon was over. "All right, Miranda," she finally said. "I'll be downstairs in my office."

Miranda nodded and turned toward Cohen in an obvious dismissal of Andy. Before she closed the door, she heard Miranda say, "Now Mr. Benjamin, let's make our acquaintance, shall we?"

Andy tried to concentrate on her work, but she couldn't help worrying about Cohen and how he was going to react to Miranda. The nannies and babysitters she'd hired in the past year and a half had a hard time dealing with Cohen and Andy needed someone to care for him during her upcoming tour, which she was hoping to turn into a vacation. She and Cohen hadn't been away from the city since Eric's death and Andy was looking forward to it.

While she was waiting, she did a little research on Miranda through the internet and found out that the woman had indeed worked in fashion; in fact she had been in charge of one of the major fashion magazines for nearly a quarter of a century and had retired around the same time that Eric was killed. Andy noted that since then, the magazine's reputation had faltered and it was no longer a major contender in the industry. Again she wondered how someone went from fashion to childcare.

Hearing a noise, she glanced up to see Miranda entering the study. The silver-haired woman took her former seat in front of Andy's desk and folded her hands.

"Very well, Ms. Sachs, I will accept the position," she announced.

Andy leaned back in her chair with a small, amused smile on her face. "Really?" she asked. "Even though I haven't actually offered it yet?"

"Even so," Miranda replied with a nod. "I understand from Dr. Victor's office that you need help caring for Cohen even though you work from home."

"That's correct. I'm a writer," she said.

"I have read your work, Ms. Sachs," Miranda said.

"Please don't be so formal, Miranda," Andy said. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"Very well," Miranda agreed. "It has been some time since you had anything published, Andrea. I'm assuming this is because of your family difficulties?"

"That's right," Andy said after a moment, thinking about the formal way Miranda pronounced her name. "First Eric of course, and then Cohen's acting out. Neither of which exactly makes for optimal working conditions."

"No doubt," Miranda said and for the first time Andy detected a note of something resembling humanity in Miranda's voice. "Your new book is quite exceptional and I congratulate you for completing it under such difficult circumstances."

"You've read it?" Andy goggled. The new book was scheduled to be released in a little over a month and there weren't too many advance copies out there.

"Oh yes," Miranda said. "I have many friends in publishing. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to learn as much about you as possible so that I could assess whether or not you and I can work together. I have decided that we can."

"I see," Andy said. "And Cohen? How does he seem to you?"

"He is an extraordinarily bright child, Andrea," Miranda said. "Which is half the problem, I believe. He acts and speaks like a child far older than his age and no doubt your previous childcare providers could not handle that. Cohen's precociousness exceeds even what professionals can deal with."

Andy nodded. "Eric and I were very proud of him. He was reading at a third grade level before kindergarten and now…" Andy tapered off.

"Now he most likely reads far more than he should," Miranda guessed. "Children as intelligent as Cohen possess a vivid imagination. Have you discussed the manner in which his father died, Andrea?"

"No!" Andy said, appalled at the idea. "God, no. Just that his father was killed because of the war."

"You will have to someday," Miranda said.

"I know," Andy replied. "But just not…not anytime soon."

"He may already know, Andrea."

Andy looked at her and wished Miranda hadn't put one of her biggest fears so out there in the open. "I realize that, Miranda," she said.

"So he either knows the truth of what happened or his imagination provides him what could have happened and that's the source of the problem." Miranda paused. "Well, regardless, I believe I can help you and your son."

Andy sat and thought a moment trying to make her decision. Miranda was certainly nothing like the other nannies had been and she already knew more about Andy and her situation than the others did when they were hired. By doing her homework before the interview, Miranda showed she wasn't simply a woman looking to fill the endless hours of her retirement. And that she already knew more about Cohen than many of the best psychiatrists and therapists her father-in-law's money could pay for after endless sessions showed she had more insight than they did.

"All right, Miranda," Andy said, finally making her decision. "We'll give it a try. You don't mind living here with Cohen and me?"

"Of course not," Miranda said with a sniff. "I owned a home not too far from here, but sold it when my daughters went to university. Now I have an apartment also here in the city, but since I'm rarely there I often rent it out."

"And I'm taking Cohen with me on my promotional tour this summer," Andy said. "You don't mind traveling?"

"Not at all," she replied. "Will you be going overseas as well?"

Andy nodded. "The whole kit and caboodle. We'll start with the ABA tradeshow which is here in the city this year and finish with the Frankfurt book fair."

"That's fine," Miranda said. "I think the trip will be good for Cohen. Is he looking forward to it?"

"I've told him, of course, but he hasn't shown any enthusiasm yet," Andy answered.

"That's to be expected," Miranda said. "I'm sure as it approaches, we'll be able to better judge how he'll behave."

Andy felt encouraged by the 'we.' For all her confidence, at least it seemed Miranda didn't think she was the end-all and be-all solution to Cohen's behavior. "So I guess the next question is: when can you start?"

"Right now, of course," Miranda said as if she thought Andy was dense for even suggesting any delay to the start of her work. "I'll have my things brought over by this afternoon. Can you show me to my room?"

Andy blinked. "Oh sure," she said standing up. Once again she led the way up the stairs and only hesitated a moment before deciding to put Miranda in a room on the third floor with her and Cohen. From Miranda's expression when Andy led her inside, Andy guessed Miranda had discerned this was not the regular nanny's quarters.

"Ephraim occupies the top floor when he's here, which he's not at the moment. He prefers his privacy and certainly won't bother you. In fact, Cohen and I rarely see him as he comes and goes. There's an office next door to this room that you're welcome to use for your own," Andy said. "Cohen's room is next to that and mine next to his."

Miranda scanned the bedroom, her eyes once again taking in the furnishings and décor. Andy's parents used it when they came to visit so it was a little homier than the other guest rooms and Andy was glad to see that Miranda seemed to approve. "This will do nicely, Andrea," Miranda said dumping her coat and bag on the bed and then peeking into the en suite bathroom. "Thank you."

"I'm going to get started on lunch, then," Andy said. "Is there anything you can't eat or prefer…?"

"Anything is fine, but if you have an espresso machine, I'll make myself a cup of coffee before returning to Cohen," Miranda said. "If that's all right with you?"

"Of course!" Andy said, embarrassed that she hadn't offered first. "Please, make yourself at home."

Miranda again looked Andy over and then nodded. Without a word, she turned and left the room.

Well, Miranda was right about one thing, Andy thought as she listened to the woman walking down the stairs. She certainly was unique.

To be continued…