A/N:Ugh my other stuff is getting so depressing I need this pure silliness.

I would like to apologize for the sheer number of times I used the word sperm in this chapter. Gross.


February

Commander Jane raced through the halls of her spaceship, narrowly avoiding the explosions that were sounding off behind her. One blast nipped at her heels, sending her careening into the far wall forcefully. Maybe a little too forcefully.

"Don't throw your toys that hard, Maggs."

"Sorry."

She was sent careening into the wall, a little less forcefully than previously mentioned. She struggled to her feet, stumbling as the spaceship crumbled around her. There was no time, but she was on a mission. She had to rescue the large stuffed monkey piloting the craft, he had gotten trapped in the driving spot.

"The cockpit."

"Oh."

He had gotten trapped in the cockpit. As she rushed forward to the rescue their attacker's ship spun around to continue the assault. Their enemies may have been a tissue box filled with colorful counting bears, but that didn't make them any less fearsome.

Commander Jane finally reached her monkey pilot and dragged him away from the collapsing…

the collapsing…

the collapsing…

"Cockpit."

"Right."

The collapsing cockpit.

And then they were off together, racing through the halls of the ship. Commander Jane threw her monkey pilot into the escape pod roughly, shoving him to safety. Just as she was about to stumble in herself yet another explosion sounded and her ship finally burst apart. She clawed at the air as she was sucked out into open space but it was no use, she was doomed to drift off among the stars until she drew her last breath.

"Wait. Wait. Wait," Shepard interrupted their game, nose scrunched up in her confusion as she watched the small girl in front of her twirling a doll through the air.

Maggie glanced over at her mom, tiny hands halting their work. "What?"

"Commander Jane dies?" she questioned incredulously.

With a blink, Maggie glanced from the toys scattered around her back over at her mother. "Yes," she returned calmly, unable to understand why this was a problem.

"Why does she die?" Shepard pressed.

"Because," Maggie returned, now thoroughly perplexed, "the ship blowed up."

"Blew up, dear," Miranda corrected her absently from where she lay sprawled out along the couch, attention firmly focused on the folder she was holding up against her stomach. "The ship blew up."

"Right," the girl replied quickly as though she had known all along.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Shepard sat on the floor in front of the couch, intently following Maggie's orders as the girl directed an epic game involving a vast array of toys. Lately all of her stories involved the mysteries of outer space, influenced of course by Shepard's video game sessions that she had witnessed on occasion.

"But Commander Jane makes it to the escape pod," Shepard insisted. No way was she going to let the character she herself had inspired go out in such a manner. She was a hero, she deserved better.

"No," Maggie returned resolutely, "she blows away into space."

"But why?" Shepard pressed.

"Because."

Shepard crossed her arms, a pout on her face. "Well that's not a nice way to end the story. Who's going to stop Furby from taking over the universe?"

Maggie had received her first and only Furby last Christmas from her aunt Oriana. Miranda had taken an instant disliking to it, which Shepard quickly realized was probably its intended purpose. Oriana was forever trying to playfully irritate the woman and usually purchased gifts with that goal in mind.

Maggie had at first shown immense interest in the toy but quickly changed her tune. By early January she had crept into her parent's bedroom and frantically begged Shepard to take the almost demonic thing away as she swore it had been mumbling in the night. Now Furby was only played with in the light of day and had exclusively claimed the role of villain in most every tale.

For her part, Shepard had been relatively indifferent towards the strange creature at first but now often amused herself by chasing Wrex about the house with it. Without question the dog seemed to despise the toy most of all.

"The hero dies?" Shepard continued. "That's a terrible story."

From the couch Miranda snickered, knowing all too well why Shepard was putting up such a fuss. What an ego.

"Don't listen to her, Maggie," she cut in, glancing over from her work for just a moment. "That was a very good ending."

"It's not ended," Maggie informed them quite seriously.

"It's not?" Shepard didn't see how that would work. The show couldn't possibly go on without the badassary of Commander Jane.

"No," Maggie supplied, "Commander Jane comes back to life."

"Thank god." Shepard leaned back against the bottom of the couch with a sigh of relief before shooting Miranda a triumphant grin.

Miranda ignored her though, curiosity genuinely peaked. "How does she do that?"

Maggie's nose wrinkled up and she looked at the pair as though she were about to utter the most obvious answer in the world. "Agent Lady comes."

Shepard fought quite hard to trample down the laughter that threatened to bubble out of her. "Ah, Agent Lady," she managed with a sneer.

"Oh no," Miranda groaned, quickly hiding her face behind her work once more.

While Shepard was portrayed by a flexible action figure, Mommy had the privilege of being represented by an admittedly – but mostly embarrassingly - seductive looking Barbie. It was something Shepard laughed way to long and hard at for Miranda's taste.

"Why does Commander Jane have to die but Agent Lady doesn't?"

"She has to bring Commander Jane back to life."

"Well Commander Jane could bring Agent Lady back to life."

"No, Agent Lady is much smarter."

Now that Miranda found hilarious.


Miranda froze, eyes widening in horror. She had just been passing through the hall on her way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, she hadn't planned on this.

Wrex beamed up at her from where he sat by the front door, patiently awaiting human assistance.

Nose scrunching up in disdain, Miranda shook her head. "No," she all but moaned out, "I don't want to touch you."

The large dog cocked his head to the side questioningly, but his smile never faded as he gazed up at her with pleading, and dare she say loving, eyes.

Again, Miranda found herself shaking her head. "I don't like you," she insisted, trying to get the beast to somehow understand. "Maggie will take you out later."

Of course this had to happen while Shepard was at work and Maggie was down for her nap. Usually it was Shepard's job to take the dog out and feed it and do whatever else was needed. After all, Miranda had wanted a fish, or a cat, or anything else.

When Shepard wasn't around Miranda was technically on dog duty but mostly she oversaw Maggie as the young girl played with him outside. It helped that Wrex, despite his size, was one of the laziest and most gentle giants she had ever come across. He never pulled on his lead or jerked out of the tiny girl's grasp, instead trailing behind her protectively as she guided him around the yard under Miranda's watchful eye.

His clear adoration of her daughter might have charmed Miranda if she didn't find him so utterly revolting.

"Just wait," she ordered him sharply before continuing on her way. Miranda had one foot in the kitchen when she heard the pitiful whines.

Great. Usually Wrex was curled up snuggly at the foot of Maggie's bed when she went down for a nap – much to Shepard's delight and Miranda's disdain – but of course nature had called. With a heavy groan Miranda returned to the hall, giving the creature a hard look and weighing her options.

As much as she wanted to stay as far away from the thing as possible, she certainly didn't fancy the thought of him relieving himself in her home.

With a scowl she reasoned that biting the bullet and interacting with Wrex was the lesser of two evils and reluctantly turned to retrieve his leash. When he saw her return he leaped to his feet, prancing about happily in front of the door.

Miranda knelt, reaching for his collar to connect the lead. He lapped at her hands in a show of gratitude and she pulled away in disgust.

"Don't do that," she chastised quickly before reaching towards him once more.

Unbothered by her request, or more likely uncomprehending, he licked her hands once more as they neared his neck.

"Would you quit it?" she snapped, pulling back yet again to wipe her hands on her pants in revulsion.

This time she went in with a battle plan, using her elbow to push his mouth away and grant herself clear access to his collar. She leaned in closer to clip the leash on and pulled her hands away quickly, triumphant.

And then he licked her face.

It took a moment, but eventually Miranda's face scrunched up in absolute horror as it sunk in that her left cheek was now coated with a layer of saliva. In front of her Wrex sat still sporting his cheerful grin, clearly delighted with the love he had generously bestowed upon his master, stubby tail thumping along the tile floor of the hall.

"I hate you," Miranda whispered out with a ferocious intensity that she hadn't even been aware she possessed. "I hate you so much."


"You think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"What?" Shepard returned quickly, genuinely baffled. "Of course I don't think you're stupid."

Miranda let out a huff, arms crossed. "Well then what was that look for?" she challenged sharply.

"Nothing," Shepard soothed frantically. She had known this would be a delicate topic to broach from the moment Miranda had first brought it up and merely wanted to proceed cautiously. Needing a moment's distraction to gather her thoughts, Shepard stretched her arms up from where she sat on their bed. "Just come lay down."

Shaking her head, Miranda took a step towards the door. "Let me brush my teeth."

With a nod Shepard dropped her hands into her lap, secretly pleased as she departed. It would give her time to sort out how she wanted to go about this. Beyond Maggie, Miranda was the single most important aspect of her life. To knowingly put the woman through pain was out of the question. And yet, if it was what Miranda wanted…would she really have the strength to deny her?

Shepard had always gone through life as kindly and generously as she could possibly manage, but she was no pushover. At least, so long as Miranda wasn't involved, because god when was the last time she had deprived that woman of anything?

Her old work buddy James often gleefully described her as 'whipped', and though she always scowled in response could she really claim otherwise?

Miranda's return interrupted her musings and Shepard shifted over under the covers to leave ample room for the woman to slip in beside her. When Miranda was settled down comfortably and had turned off the bedside lamp Shepard wasted no time in collecting her securely in her arms.

"I don't think you're stupid," she said again, knowing that they shouldn't merely let the topic lie for the night. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I doubt they would let me do anything that was detrimental to my health," Miranda returned smoothly, and instantly the arms around her tightened in response.

"That's not the kind of hurt I mean."

Miranda heaved a sigh that was equal parts frustration and affection. Shepard was just looking out for her, but she didn't want to be held back from at least trying. She was only getting older, her window – if there even was a window – was swiftly closing.

"I know they said it wasn't impossible," Shepard continued softly, as though weary of speaking too loudly, "but I would just hate to see you get your hopes up and then…"

"I know," Miranda said quietly when Shepard trailed off. "I have no expectations, I promise." She paused and smiled as she heard Shepard snort in the dark. "I just want to talk to a professional about it."

"If it's what you really want," Shepard allowed after a time, "you know I'll be behind you every step of the way."

Though Shepard had failed to hide all of her misgivings in her tone, Miranda truly appreciated the sentiment all the same.

"I know," she said once more, "you always are."


Shepard had insisted on coming for emotional support, and Miranda was glad for the company, but she had made the woman promise to let her do the talking.

Shepard had a penchant for making inappropriate jokes at the most inopportune times.

She was more than a little surprised when Shepard obeyed, only interrupting the conversation between Miranda and her doctor a handful of times. The most notable of which being when she discovered just how much multiple procedures would cost.

"Oh my god," she had spluttered stupidly, "That is…that is one pricey baby. And that's before college?" Miranda hadn't been able to stop herself from laughing despite the situation.

Now they were together in the car, headed home.

"How do you feel?" Shepard ventured after they had spent a lengthy period in silence.

Miranda considered the question carefully before answering. "Better than I would have thought," she admitted after a moment, "but still apprehensive."

Shepard nodded her understanding but kept her eyes firmly on the road. "Twenty is a low percentage, and that's being more than optimistic."

"I know," Miranda said with a scoff, "and look at our lives, we've never been particularly lucky."

For a moment Shepard was going to chuckle out her agreement but then she hesitated. "You know what?" she said suddenly. "Maybe we have."

Because yeah, their childhoods kind of sucked, and yes, their families were virtually nonexistent. Okay, Miranda's dad was a dick, and sure Shepard's had been taken from her when she was far too young. But maybe that made them all the luckier because they were sitting there together and actually discussing this and they had Maggie and even Wrex was amazing, as much as Miranda pretended to hate him, and wasn't all of that just absolutely fantastic?

Though Shepard couldn't see the gesture as she was behind the wheel, Miranda rolled her eyes. "You're not getting sentimental on me now are you, Jane?" she questioned dryly.

Shepard chuckled. "Of course not," she said smoothly. "I just don't want pessimism to influence your decision."

Again they were quiet for a time, and then it was Miranda who finally broke.

"I think I want to try," she said timidly, biting her lip. "At least once."

"You can try as much as you want," Shepard assured her. "Or," she amended with a laugh, "at least as much as we can afford."


Neither Shepard nor Miranda had been partial to Valentine's Day throughout their lives, and they carried that mentality with them into their relationship. Miranda was far too practical to care much for flashy gifts and Shepard was embarrassed easily by grand romantic gestures. These facts added up to them never celebrating the holiday in a more traditional fashion, opting instead to simply spend time together and occasionally, since Maggie's arrival into their lives, take the girl out for a nice dinner someplace a little more upscale than usual.

Of course she would still refuse to order anything but chicken tenders, but that was beside the point.

Due to their lax nature about the holiday, Miranda had ended up working in the city, returning home just past dinner time. She had had a good day, but that didn't make her feel any less drained. More than anything she wanted to change into more comfortable clothes and lounge about until sleep found her in a couple of hours.

When she entered the house, Miranda was surprised to not hear the pounding of tiny feet and the feel of Maggie barreling into her legs in the usual overenthusiastic greeting.

"Hello?" she called out uncertainly.

"Hey," Shepard's voice returned, and Miranda tracked the sound into the kitchen as she shrugged out of her jacket.

"Hungry?" Shepard questioned as Miranda entered the room, pressing an empty plate into her hands.

"Starving," Miranda answered truthfully as she considered the small array of takeout containers on the counter in front of her. Shepard had already made quite some progress heaping generous portions onto a plate of her own.

"Is Maggie already asleep?" Miranda inquired curiously as she followed suit.

"She's at mom's," Shepard replied, shifting so Miranda had room to move in beside her. She scratched absently at her nose, glancing away. "I know it's stupid," she continued airily, "but I thought we could just, like, hang out and eat gross food and stuff. Watch a movie or something."

She was finally able to meet Miranda's gaze again. "I know that's not really special," she said quickly, "but it's sorta us, and well, we haven't done it in like, forever." Her face scrunched up then and she rubbed at the back of her neck. "Sorry, it's stupid."

Miranda smiled softly. "No, Jane," she assured the other woman, "It's perfect."

Shepard let out a heavy breath and then grinned. "I'm glad you think so," she continued, pointing at a stack of cases on the counter, "because I've rented some good stuff in case you were feeling intellectual, and then I've rented some really bad stuff in case you needed a laugh. Any preferences?"

Miranda looked thoughtful for a moment and then smirked. "Let's start with the good stuff while we're eating and then we can move on to the bad stuff because I have a feeling I won't be paying much attention anyhow."

Shepard's eyebrows raised as she caught on to her meaning. "How presumptuous of you, Miss Lawson."


"Miranda please please please pick the astronaut." Unbelievably, Shepard was actually on her knees next to the table, hands clasped in her desperate appeal. "I will never ask for anything ever again if you pick the astronaut," she promised intensely.

Miranda merely rolled her eyes at the dramatics. "Jane, name one thing about him other than his profession."

Shepard seemed to consider the challenge for a moment until she suddenly shook her head. "I don't have to when his profession is going into space," she insisted. "Miranda, he's an astronaut," she pressed, unclasping her hands to point upwards towards the ceiling. "What else do we need to know?"

"Just about everything?"

"Miranda, he's been in space," Shepard cut in to remind her unnecessarily. "You could have space sperm." She made it sound as though it were the highest honor one could achieve. And then suddenly a whole new look of complete wonder graced her features.

"We could have a space baby."

Miranda rolled her eyes once more, though she found herself fighting back a smile.


"Jane," Miranda moaned loudly, "that thing is looking at me."

Shepard entered the room with a huff, Maggie at her heels. "He's just being a dog," she defended smoothly.

"Well make him be a dog somewhere else," Miranda returned, causing Maggie to giggle. Her eyes narrowed as she considered Wrex where he stood next to her, gazing up adoringly. "Stop acting like you like me," Miranda chastised. "We hate each other."

Apparently Wrex hadn't gotten the memo.

Shepard chuckled. "What is your problem? You were fine whenever you were around Garrus."

Miranda sniffed. "That was different. He wasn't as…" she trailed off, apparently searching her mind for the proper term, "thick." Not to mention she could count the number of times they had been in contact with one another on one hand. "He was pretty."

"Pretty?" Shepard crossed her arms. "I'll not have you insulting his memory. Garrus was very manly and tough."

"Whatever you say," Miranda replied dryly, "just get this one out of here."

"Come on, Wrex," Maggie called softly and the lumbering mutt made his way over immediately.

"You can hang out with the cool crowd," Shepard added before throwing a wink at Miranda. "That's us."

"Yeah," Maggie agreed, giggling once more as Miranda scoffed and turned her attention back to her work.

With dog in tow, Shepard and Maggie turned to depart.

"Who's Garrus?"

"An old friend."

"Oh."


Miranda shifted uncomfortably outside the doors, this all felt very new to her. The process itself was of course, but more than that was this great unease within her. She didn't do well with nerves, and hadn't really felt quite like this since the days of trying to adopt Maggie.

She relaxed a bit as she felt the familiar hand along the small of her back and leaned into the touch, grateful for the comforting gesture.

"Hey," Shepard whispered softly, "if this doesn't work and we try again, we're gonna go for the space sperm, right?"

Miranda nearly choked. She had been expecting one of Shepard's encouraging speeches.

"Would you please stop using the term space sperm?" She returned as soon as she composed herself.

Shepard grinned. "Fine," she allowed cheekily, "good luck getting knocked up with the boring old normal sperm then." And then she sobered, planting a kiss to Miranda's forehead. "I'll be right out here."


"Mommy is being weird."

Shepard glanced up from the paper to find her daughter standing next to where she sat at the table. She couldn't help the affectionate smile that warmed her face as she then peered through the archway into the living room.

Miranda lay on the center couch cushion, legs straight up over the backrest and along the wall as she hugged their fluffiest pillow tightly to her chest. Shepard knew that Miranda understood full well that this would do nothing to increase their chances, especially since they had already had her lay down for a good half hour back at the clinic. She had been taking the prescribed drugs since they had been suggested leading up to the procedure as well. If it wasn't going to happen, it wasn't going to happen.

Shepard's eyes trailed back towards Maggie. "Mommy is always weird," she replied.

The girl giggled. "Why is she doing that?" she inquired curiously as soon as she had sobered.

"I think she's just nervous," Shepard explained. It was the truth after all, even if not the whole of it. They had decided to wait until things were set in stone before explaining just what was happening to their daughter. No sense in getting her worked up over a maybe.

Shepard smirked as Maggie's face twisted up in confusion. "Why don't you go sit and talk with her for a bit? I think she would like that."

Maggie brightened at the idea and nodded vigorously before scampering off. Shepard had to fight exceptionally hard not to laugh as she watched her daughter clamor up onto the couch beside Miranda and then proceed to mimic her position, wild hair splayed out on the cushion and short legs stretching up onto the backrest, never quite reaching the wall.

That wasn't quite what Shepard had meant, but she certainly appreciated the sight.


Shepard understood Miranda's apprehension, but she kept reminding the woman that this wasn't the be all end all. They didn't have to get it on the first try, few people did. It would be best to simply take the test and get it over with.

Miranda would always seem to agree with Shepard, but then the test would remain untaken. She would busy herself with work or engage in a game with Maggie and another day would pass.

"Look," Shepard finally said one day over breakfast, "if you want privacy then do it when I'm at work. It's fine, you don't have to wait for me. But if I come home tonight and you haven't I am seriously going to hold you down and force you to pee on that stick."

"That's disgusting," Miranda snapped irritably, face twisted up in revulsion at the image.

"I know," Shepard replied solemnly, though her eyes sparkled with mischief, "so don't put me in that position."

Then she had left for work and Miranda was left at home feeling incredibly small.

She threw herself into entertaining Maggie one hundred percent, all the while a little voice in the back of her mind reminding her that she had wanted to do this. She had willingly put herself in this position. Still, she avoided the test, choosing instead to get some work done while Maggie happily munched on her lunch at the table beside her.

And then came naptime and Miranda actually chose to take Wrex outside rather then face her fears. It was then, shivering in the ankle deep snow and holding onto the leash of an animal she loathed, that she realized that just maybe she was being a tad immature.

Just a tad, mind you.

So it came to pass that Miranda found herself sitting on the edge of the tub, holding a tiny box in her hands.

The door had been open a crack and Wrex nosed his way through, sitting before her and gazing with intent curiosity. For the first time Miranda found she wasn't irritated by the intrusion. In fact, she found herself grateful for the company.

With a grimace she flashed him the package, as though showing him what she was up to. "It's kind of stupid, huh?" she mumbled. "It's not that big of a deal." Turning the box in her hands, she shrugged. "Such a small thing, really."

Wrex stared at her blankly for a moment and then opened his massive jaws in a wide yawn.

"You don't have to go outside again, do you?" Miranda tried hopefully after a moment. Wrex snorted and her face fell. "No," she answered him sadly, "I didn't think so."


"Woah there, Munchkin," Shepard grunted out as Maggie barreled into her legs as soon as she had closed the front door behind her. "Go easy on me," she ordered playfully. "I'm an old lady."

The girl was far from the mood for listening calmly. She practically shimmied up Shepard's body in her excitement and Shepard quickly wrapped an arm around her to stop her from sliding back onto the floor.

"You're home early." Miranda was standing in the hall then as well.

"Slow day," Shepard returned with a pleased grin. She had jumped at the chance to head home for the night. "And what have you two been up to?" Shepard questioned, though now she directed her words towards the child in her grasp.

"I drew a lot," Maggie supplied, and then her eyes lit up and she was squirming free from Shepard's grip. "I'll show you," she informed her with delight before taking off like a shot past Miranda. "Come on," she called over her shoulder as she vanished from sight.

"It's nice to see we're winding down for bedtime," Shepard said with a chuckle as she pulled off her jacket, earning a smile from Miranda. "So?" she drawled out after a time, giving Miranda a hard look to prove she hadn't forgotten their early morning discussion while she hung her coat on the hanger by the door.

It was insanely difficult for Miranda to remain composed as she let out a noncommittal, "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Shepard questioned, nodding her approval as she moved up in front of the other woman. At least it was finally over and done with, whatever the answer may be.

"Yeah," Miranda repeated, mischief lacing the word.

Shepard raised her eyebrows, finally catching on. "Like, yeah yeah?" she pressed, "Or just yeah?"

Miranda broke out into a wide smile at that, she couldn't help it. "Yeah yeah," was her only reply.

For a moment it looked as though she was about to earn a hug, but then Shepard's face twisted up. "Oh you would on the first go, you perfectionist."

Miranda scoffed, crossing her arms. "Are you still pouting because I didn't use the space sperm?" she teased.

"I'm just saying," Shepard replied, holding up her hands defensively, "which would you love more, a regular baby or a space baby?"

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her, she was simply far too giddy, far too relieved. "I'd prefer any sort over having to deal with you."

"Ouch," Shepard replied through a laugh, finally reaching out and tugging the other woman against her. Their foreheads met. "You happy, lady?"

Miranda couldn't help but smile as the words were breathed into her. "Yeah," she returned softly, "I'm happy."

Shepard leaned into her, pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. It was drawn out, but wholesome as Shepard strove to express her concentrated love over her usual display of frantic passion.

"Then I'm happy."

"Hey," Maggie's demanding voice cut in, causing them to instinctively pull apart. She stood in the entryway, hands on hips, pout on face. "You have to come look at the pictures."