Disclaimer: I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts. This is simply my interpretation of some events within the game universe.

[AN: Hello all,

This story was written for the May 'Mother's Day' competition on Aria's Afterlife, and pretty much revolves around Miranda and her views on the day as she grows up.

And I apologise for the formatting, the extra lines I add in to break up some sections don't seem to want to stay :/

I hope you enjoy it. /AN]

When she was a child, Miranda was confused by the concept of Mother's Day:

'Father, what is this "Mother's Day" that the other children keep speaking of?'

'It is an antiquated tradition, a single day each year in which families, particularly children, pay respect to their Mothers.'

'But I don't have a Mother, do I?'

'No, you do not Miranda.'

'But why do the other children have Mother's while I do not?'

'Because you are special Miranda, you did not require a Mother. We have been over this before, surely you do not require me to explain it to you a second time?'

'Of course not Father, I was simply curious. May I go help Niket find a gift for his Mother?'

'No, your studies are far more important than this frivolous celebration and you have already spent your allotted time with the other children today.'

'Very well, Father.'

When she was a teenager, Miranda was dismissive of the so-called 'Mother's Day':

'Hey Miri, you wanna help me pick out a present for my Mum?'

'Really Niket, you should know by now that Father won't allow me to, he never has and I doubt he ever will.'

'Maybe, but I thought I should still ask, since you can't really do it yourself.'

'I still don't understand why you persist in this tradition, what purpose does it serve? I mean, don't you interact with and thank your mother every day?'

'Sure, but there's something special about Mother's Day. Seeing my mum's face light up when she reads my card … it's nice.'

'Touching, but if "nice" is the best thing you have to say about it, then I still fail to see its appeal or purpose.'

'One day, Miri. One day, when your own kid gives you a little card and wishes you a Happy Mother's Day, then you'll understand what all the fuss is about; I guarantee it.

'I strongly doubt that, Niket. Still, I hope you find a present for your mother.'

'Thanks Miri, I'll see you tomorrow.'

And when she was a young adult, Miranda barely spared a thought for the archaic celebration:

'Hey Lawson, do you think The Illusive Man celebrates Mother's Day? Like, sends his mum a card or something? I can't even picture him being part of a family, let alone being a kid.'

'Determining what the Illusive Man does in his personal life is not the object of your current task; I strongly suggest that you get back to your assigned role immediately.'

'Hey, I was just trying to make conversation! What, don't you and your mum get along or something?'

'Not that it is any of your business, but I never had a Mother.'

'Oh, damn … I'm sorry to hear that.'

'Why? What difference does it make, whether or not I had a Mother?'

'Well I mean, it must have been hard, growing up without a mum; I know my mum helped me through a lot of –'

'I don't require your pity or your life story, but I do need you to return to your work. Have the next report to me by the end of today or I will have you reassigned, effective immediately.'

But after she found out she was sterile, Miranda was bitter towards the blasted day:

Why do these people persist in celebrating such an irrelevant holiday? Why should a single day be set aside to gratify the egos of either parent?

There is nothing intrinsically special or necessary about motherhood; I am a highly capable adult despite my lack of a maternal influence, or a paternal influence, for that matter. So why is so much fanfare given to it?

And why do they have to keep reminding me about how close the day is?

Perhaps the question I should be asking is why is this affecting me so much? It's an irrelevancy, I haven't even thought about the day in years.

Just because I now know I'm sterile shouldn't make a difference.

And yet, it does…

Why should I be denied the chance to find out if Niket was right or not? To see if I could actually understand what was so great about motherhood? Just because I'm a damn genetic construct!

It doesn't matter, not anymore. It's irrelevant, I know that to be true, I just have to remember that more actively now.

And when, during the Reaper War, others lamented the loss of their mothers, she couldn't sympathise with them:

She listened to them as she waited by the Docks, little snippets of conversation conveying tales of lives lost and families torn asunder by the Reaper Invasion.

"I can't believe it, I was speaking to her only a week ago."

"… so close. It should have been me on that Shuttle, not her!"

"Has anyone seen my Mom? Mister, have you seen my Mom anywhere?"

"No, no, I'm sorry Brenda, I haven't heard from her since terra Nova went dark. I'll call you if I hear from her alright? First thing."

They and hundreds of others, all mourning lost ones, missing or killed by the Reapers in the first week since Earth fell.

And yet, she couldn't empathise with them when they spoke of their mothers.

If it was a sibling, or a child, she could understand their grief. And if it was a father, she almost envied them for the fact that they cared enough about their father to wish he was still with them.

But whenever she overheard them speaking of their 'caring' or 'loving' or 'gentle' mothers, she didn't feel anything. There was no comparison for her, nothing to draw a response from.

Soon, those anguished cries just became background noise to her.

But today, when five-year old Annika jumped into her bed, her strawberry-blonde hair framed beautifully by the soft orange glow of the rising Sun, and held out a card to her, she began to understand.

The card was small, made of pink paper and covered in a liberal coating of glitter. The hearts were roughly cut out and pasted on in such a way that dried glue was clearly visible across much of it and the writing scrawled across it was messy, nothing at all like Miranda's own writing at that age.

But none of that mattered in the least.

Because when she read what her adoptive Daughter had attempted to hand-write on the front of the card and saw her beaming smile, Miranda could honestly say that she finally got what the whole day is about.

'Hapy Muthers Day Mommy!'

[AN: I hoped you liked it, it was interesting trying to write from Miranda's perspective, and I'm not really sure at how well I did, so feedback would be great.

For the flashback dialogue pieces, I intentionally left out non-dialogue sections as I didn't feel they felt the retrospective feel I was going for.

And as for Annika, she's my entirely made-up adoptive daughter for Miranda. In my mind, she was a survivor of the attack on Sanctuary that Miranda found during clean-up there, and later ended up adopting.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. /AN]