a/n Did you see all those cute pictures of baby! and kid!Miranda in Halsey's journal? I thought they were cute; cute enough to write a story.


"Miranda, you'll get your stuffed animal dirty."

It bothered her tremendously that her daughter deemed it necessary to lug the stuffed animal everywhere they went. The white plush guta had been a gift from the Vice Admiral, and should not, in her opinion, join in meals at the table or likewise enjoy a trip down the slide, but her six-year-old did not share her opinion.

"Miranda," she commanded after the girl went down the slide a second time. "Let me hold Jamie."

Her daughter's head whipped at the sound of her voice and she ran back to place the doll on her mother's lap.

"And your hat too," she added as an afterthought. Today's weather was agreeable and the sun would remain obscured by clouds.

Miranda tossed her flowered sun hat at her mother, eager to return to the playground and the other children. Perhaps on a normal day, Catherine would have scolded her daughter, but today was different. After today...she was uncertain of the next time she would see Miranda.

With a heavy sigh, Catherine picked up the hat from the ground, dusting off the specks of dirt tarnishing the white material. This was not the life she had envisioned, for both of them, but Reach and ONI have made it clear that they were not the place for a child. So why then had she destined seventy-five children to that fate? Catherine pushed the mental question aside; another question for another day.

Today was about her and Miranda.

Her daughter was the thing she treasured most; the one thing of hers that ONI did not own or control, and she, with all the power she was sanctioned and illegitimately possessed, used every resource imaginable to protect Miranda, but even ONI had found a way to sink its teeth into her daughter. Someone had deliberately put her daughter in harm's way.

Kalmiya had a whole subroutine devoted to figuring out the bastard who was responsible, and when she found out who was, they would suffer her wrath. No doubt, the ruse was set up to prove that the great Dr. Halsey was distracted and no longer completely devoted to her work. After years of countless research, programs, and studies, this was the reward she receives for helping humanity make leaps and bounds in numerous fields of science?

She would prove that she was as cutthroat as ONI.

"Mommy, look at me!"

Catherine returned a wave to her daughter hanging upside down from the red dome jungle gym before her face was covered by her dress and at that moment, she saw the vivacity and innocence of her daughter, and she was overwhelmed with maternal ardor and the heart-wrenching sorrow of her decision to give up Miranda. She allowed her tears to well in her eyes before steeling herself and bitterly wiping them away.

It's for the best, she reminded herself, even though she no longer believed her lies. Instead of this futile attempt to sway the instinct that she rarely relied upon, Catherine ended her internal monologue and returned to watching her daughter as she pretended to ignore the uniformed figure observing them across the playground.


He felt extremely uncomfortable on a civilian playground. They were chaotic; full of screaming, running children, and he had never had any business on them. Not recently that is. He had come to a playground once to observe a child. How ironic that he now stood at the edge of this one to observe another child.

His child.

Jacob still had difficulty running the words through his mind, even after six years. Six years, and he had never laid eyes on her. He'd been sent pictures of course, but seeing her for the first time incited paternal feelings in him that a two-dimensional image could not. His daughter flew down the slide, jumped off a swing, laughed carelessly into the wind. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen, but that did not prevent anxiety from worming in his gut.

He doubted his ability to be a good father. Would she accept him after being nonexistent in her life? The situation was not how he imagined his life would be, especially at his age. At thirty-five, he should have had a family of his own by now, but instead he was tangled in a web of secrets and war and Catherine was in the middle of it, spinning her own strings. With Miranda, they had only wound themselves tighter into it, and now both their jobs were to free her from the threads she was born into.

It was not Catherine's pleads and excellent persuasion that returned him to Reach. Jacob knew he had an unfulfilled obligation to his daughter and her mother, even though Catherine had given him none, but he wanted to share their responsibility of raising their daughter and keep her safe from harm. Of course, he was not bound only by duty and responsibility. He would have married Catherine if only she'd said yes. She hadn't said no either.

He saw her sitting on a bench father from the other parents watching their children, and he smiled because he knew that she did not have the time or interest in petty and idle chat. She looked as uncomfortable as he, but it was her idea to meet here at the playground, in an environment Miranda was familiar and comfortable with so she could get acquainted with him.


Miranda could care less that the dome jungle gym she expertly navigated and swung from was originally intended to teach children basic concepts of space and dimension on a Cartesian plane. Catherine recalled that when she was her daughter's age, playground equipment held less imagination or interest for her.

"Catherine."

She turned at the sound of his voice, its speaker being the only other person besides the Vice Admiral to use just her name. Even though she steeled herself for this moment when she met him again and told herself she would not be caught off-guard by the mere presence and sight of him, he still had the same effect on her years ago.

"Jacob," she breathed.

With his cap in his hand, he took a slow step towards her and she was aware of how much he had changed in six years. He was no longer her Lieutenant to babysit her on missions or use at her command; he was the father of her child and the only other person she could truly trust.

Catherine stood up to greet him, and he surprised her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. The show of affection was unnecessary, not that she didn't enjoy it, but she felt he had given it as if to prove his support and concern for her. She never needed it proven to her. The only proof she wants of him is that he would take care of their daughter, of which she was already certain that he would.

She gestured to the playground and turned to face it to mask her nervousness. "I'll call her."

Jacob stopped her. "Let her finish. I'll watch her for a bit." He was nervous as well, and she took comfort in their shared anxiety.

"Alright."

They settled on the bench and sat in silence watching Miranda. Catherine stole a glance at him, observing him as he looked at their daughter for the first time. Arms resting lightly on his knees, he leaned forward, his eyes trying to catch up to the all the years that he missed.

After a while, Jacob spoke. "She's beautiful," he confessed and turned to look at her. "Just like her mother."

Catherine answered his genuine smile with an awkward and shy one. His compliments always threw her off because she was never prepared for them, but they were the ones she enjoyed the most. Throughout her prosperous career, she'd garnered countless praise, tossed at her achievements and work by numerous people of all ranks and positions, but Jacob's were always about different. They were never about her work or anything she did. They were the ones she longed for and treasured; not that she would ever admit that openly.

"She's your daughter, too, Jacob," she tried to encourage him, but it only made his lips turn into a slight frown, as if he didn't deserve the compliment. "Every day I see more of you in her," she added, and the words seemed to pacify his doubts.

She was well aware that genetics played no part in the formation of personalities, but she couldn't deny, or perhaps she chose to believe, that Miranda shared many traits with her father.

"I like to think she inherited your stubbornness, though," she admitted half-truthfully.

Jacob chuckled; a deep laugh that shook his body with mirth.

"Are you sure it's not yours?" he countered, tossing her a playful grin that complimented his features.

Catherine scowled, silently cursing him for throwing her jest back at her and Jacob chuckled once more at her expression. Though she tried her utmost, her scowl was slowly replaced with a matching smile, and she cursed herself this time for surrendering so easily to his charm. His proximity to her on the bench was to blame, coupled with the rugged quality of his features she found appealing. It incited and aroused old emotions she thought she had long buried six years ago. That was why she returned her eyes to Miranda on the swings before she foolishly acted impulsively again.

Miranda saw them and Catherine waved her over. Each step her daughter slowly took towards them became slower and more apprehensive until she stopped at her side and glanced silently at Jacob. Catherine didn't quite understand why Miranda was suddenly shy after days of questions and excitement at her father's arrival. She glanced again at Jacob, however, who had stood up to greet her, and saw his nervousness had replaced his lax emotions of a moment ago.

"Is that him?" Miranda whispered into her dress.

"Yes, aren't you going to greet him properly?" Catherine nudged Miranda to stand in front of her, picking woodchips out of her daughter's dark hair. Perhaps meeting at the playground was a poor decision. She had rehearsed this moment with her, but she should have known from experience how unpredictable a six-year-old child could be.

Miranda regarded her father with the same heavy eyes they shared, pursing her lips as she tilted her head when she thought deeply.

"You have a lot of medals," she blurted.

The honest comment was not quite what she or Jacob was expecting, but he chuckled lightly at it. Indeed, she spied the Medal of Honor amongst the other medals on his chest that were not there when she saw him last.

Taking the comment in stride, Jacob kneeled so that he was eye level with Miranda and answered, "That's because I've been fighting to keep you and your mother safe."

"From the aliens?"

He shook his head. "Not just them. There are some bad people, too."

"The Insurrectionists," Miranda stated. Catherine was impressed that she didn't stumble over her words, and she saw Jacob was as well. His face lit up with admiration at their daughter's knowledge.

"You are such a smart girl. Just like your mother," he told her, garnering smiles from both Halsey women. "Can I get a hug?"

In their preparation before today, Catherine had told Miranda to greet her father with a handshake to lessen the pressure and because she was not expecting either of them to be really comfortable with the show of affection, but both of them surprised her. Miranda did not hesitate to wrap her arms around her father.


His daughter's arms around his neck were the best feeling in the world. At first he was a bit worried, both about how he would feel and also if Miranda would even give him one at all, but he was tremendously glad he had asked. She pulled away and she peered at him with her eager and intelligent eyes, waiting for him speak. Jacob wanted to ask her countless questions; mundane things that he should have already known about her, like her favorite color, song, or animal. There would be much time for that later though.

"You looked like you wanted to go on the swing longer. Want me to push you?"

Miranda's face lit up with excitement and Jacob found her wide smile contagious. "Yes, push me high!"

He glanced back at Catherine and she nodded at him in approval. Silently, he offered his daughter his hand, and after she took it, they headed towards the swings. Miranda found an empty one and, when she got on, he began to push her lightly.

"Can you push me high? Please?" she begged. "All the other kid's dads push them high. You can push me high, too, now that you're here."

Jacob felt those paternal emotions from earlier rise within him again. She wanted to spend time with him. And yet, his guilt and sadness returned as well. She also noticed that he was missing from her life as well. He resolved in his mind that that would no longer be the case. Many other children would never have the opportunity to ever see their fathers or mothers again, and Miranda should not suffer the fate of not having a memory of him. Starting now, he would do his best to stay in her life as long as he could be, even if it meant that the only memory of him she would have would be this moment on the swings. At least she would have it, and he would make it the best first memory of them.

"Okay, hang on tight," he warned as he grabbed the chained metal of the swings and prepared to give his daughter an underdog.

After he lifted her a good solid six feet into the air, Jacob turned around to witness his daughter's beaming smile and the squeal of delight escaping her lips.

"Do it again!" Miranda repeated after her swinging had slowed down a bit. "Mom never pushes me that high. She's always scared I might fall."

Yep, that sounded just like Catherine; cautious and careful. And calculating. He looked at her sitting on the bench, observing them with a slight smile on her face, her intelligent eyes intaking every detail of them. It made him wonder about the side of her Miranda saw; the one he had been lucky enough to experience a few times.

"What do you two usually do?" he asked Miranda, slowing her swing more to talk to her.

"Go on walks," she told him. "We study plants and animals."

Jacob smiled. No doubt, Catherine would devote her time to Miranda's education and interests. What would he do with Miranda in their free time, now that he was here? He'd never had the chance to really think about it. He could teach her soccer or get some ice cream on Armstrong Alley and watch an earthrise when they returned to Luna. It wouldn't be all fun and games, though. No, he would continue Catherine's strict education along with his own.

"What's your favorite animal?"

"The Zebra," she answered almost immediately.

Interesting choice, Jacob thought. "Why's that?"

She looked up at him, her face now animated and eager when she described her reason. "They can see in color and their stripes can help them hide in the grass from lions."

"Oh," he said simply, a bit confused by the statement. Wasn't African savannah grass yellow?

Miranda seemed to catch on to his confusion. "Lions are colorblind," she continued. "So they can't see the zebras."

"Wow, I didn't know that." He really didn't. Considering he had lived on earth for much of his childhood and Miranda had never been to the planet, he was impressed and a bit proud of his daughter's intelligence. Should he have really been surprised? She was Catherine's daughter after all.

"Daddy, can you push me again?"

Jacob nearly jumped at the title, not because he didn't like it, but because he did. She said it without any hesitation.

"Of course."

With Miranda swinging, he eyed Catherine on the bench again, and she motioned it was almost time for them to leave. He found himself a bit disappointed at having such little time left. He was having fun with his daughter. Even in his mind the phrase sounded right and he held up three fingers to tell her how many more pushes on the swing he would give Miranda. Catherine shook her head and held up two, her mouth pursing at having to compromise.

Jacob flashed her his best smile in gratitude and it grew wider when a small one appeared on her face as well.

"Two more then we have to go," he told Miranda, who made her disappointment known with a short whine.

"Your mother's word is final." He hoped he didn't sound too scolding. He didn't want to drive her away by being too stern, but he was still her father, and his daughter would not be disobedient.

Miranda sighed. "I know."

Jacob was relieved she submitted to his authority, and quickly at that. How interesting, he wondered, that they both resigned to Catherine's authority.

He gave Miranda those last two underdogs they were allowed and waited in silence until she finally slowed to a stop.

"I'm hungry," he told her, trying to veer her mind off their shortened playtime. A small frown was appearing on her face. "How about you? Let's head back to your mother and get lunch."

Her face broke into a wide smile again. "Okay, race you to Mommy!" she yelled and jumped off the swing, already taking long strides towards her mother before she even finished her sentence.

Accepting her challenge, he jogged a few steps behind her until they reached Catherine who was already gathering their things off the bench.

"I win!" she grinned at him.

"Yep," he conceded, grinning as well. "You're too fast for me."

Catherine watched their playful interaction with an amused smirk. "Ready for lunch?" she asked.

"Mmhmm!" Miranda jumped. "I'm so hungry!"

Catherine frowned. "Miranda, please, there's no need to yell. Here," she handed a stuffed animal and hat to their daughter, "carry your things."

Jacob extended his hand. "I can help you with those." He saw Catherine had a large bag with her as well, although he already knew she would decline his help as always; she was stubborn like that, but he offered anyways. Sure enough, she arched an eyebrow at his gesture and did not relinquish her things.

"I'm fine, Jacob."

He frowned slightly. "Alright then."

"Mommy, carry me." Miranda tugged at her mother's dress, but Catherine shook her head.

"I can't carry you, Miranda. I'm already holding your stuff."

"But, I'm tired," she complained.

Catherine sighed, "Miranda, I said no."

Their daughter whimpered noisily, but obeyed. Then she looked up at him, silently contemplating, but Jacob already knew what she was going to ask him. He nearly chuckled at how Miranda had already figured out a family dynamic and was quickly discovering that she could ask him for things that her mother didn't normally allow her to do. He resolved in his mind that when they returned to Luna, that would not be the case, but today, he would allow it because he felt Miranda at least deserved the semblance of a normal family life.

"C'mere," he told her and knelt so she could climb on to his back, and Miranda's grin returned as she did.

After he stood up and deflected a glare and scowl from Catherine, the three of them left the playground and headed to lunch together.


A/n This isn't the end! I've got a chapter or two more to add. Thanks for reading!