From: ThePimpernel@waitrose.com   
      
   Title: Splinters of Rainbow V   
      
   Date: November 2004   
      
   Author: The Pimpernel   
      
   Rating: PG-13 but I don't want to offend anyone so let's say R for sexual   
   situations, and bad words.   
      
   Summary: An irreverent look at biological imperative and genetic   
   predisposition -- possibly. Just read and enjoy.   
      
      
      
   Classification: SRA   
      
   Keywords: AU -- a 'what if' parallel time line that mangles the two, angst,   
   MSR sort of.   
      
   Spoilers:  YES, but I haven't yet evolved past season 7. Play spot the   
   reference.   
      
   Feedback: Feeds my addiction stimulating me to write more -   
   thepimpernel@waitrose.com   
      
   Archive: I'd be stunned but go ahead. It's written to be read.   
      
   Disclaimer: Just five more minutes Dad, then I promise I'll put them away.   
      
   Fanfic is a self-indulgence of the non-fattening type for neither body nor   
   bank account. In other words any reference to characters created by Chris   
   Carter real or imaginary is purely deliberate but they're not mine.   
      
   I'm English forgive me my spelling.   
      
      
      
   A thousand thanks to Elsie for another wonderful beta, despite her recent   
   attacks of RL. May there be a pot of gold at the end of your rainbow.   
      
      
      
   Fifth part of the story. I doubt this one makes much sense without having   
   read the first four. More to come, so check your WIP tolerance before   
   continuing.   
      
      
      
      
      
   *************************************************   
      
   Part 1 of 3   
      
      
      
   Dana Scully paced her apartment, her feet in a bizarre synchrony with her   
   mind. It was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous. She couldn't possibly consider   
   it. Mulder was thinking emotionally, not rationally. He'd get... involved.   
   She shouldn't consider that. He'd said himself that she shouldn't consider   
   that. She needed sperm, he had sperm, and he was willing to donate it -- to   
   her. Did he not stack up genetically? Far from it. Nevertheless, it was   
   ridiculous. He'd get involved. She'd hurt him or she'd... she'd... Well, she   
   might respond... inappropriately. She couldn't possibly consider it. But it   
   was so tempting, so close. How could she reject such an offer? Logically, it   
   all made sense. It was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous. Round and round like   
   a squirrel in a cage, her feet paced the four corners of her apartment as   
   her mind reviewed her options.   
      
      
      
   She remembered back to that night. She hadn't been able to shake him from   
   whatever cloud of altruism he'd been floating on. He understood it wasn't   
   romantic sex or even 'friend' sex. "Mulder..." she'd sighed, "This is not...   
   sex how you envisage it."   
      
      
      
   "I know," he replied. "I mean yes, it is. It's not what you think I   
   envisage."   
      
      
      
   She'd swear his sight was blurred by the word 'Sex' being imprinted on his   
   retinas. "The planned and timed sex required here is stressful enough to   
   break-up happy marriages. There's no intention to enjoy, just..."   
      
      
      
   "An exchange of bodily fluids," he finished for her.   
      
      
      
   "You're thinking it can be something else," she insisted.   
      
      
      
   "No, I've understood, Dana -- flash, bang, wallop, or rather, flash, bang,   
   gallop."   
      
      
      
   "Right. And that's not your style."   
      
      
      
   "It's not your style either. I'm compromising. Think about it from my point   
   of view. It's more sex than I'm getting now."   
      
      
      
   She tried a different tack. "Mulder... you've never expressed any interest   
   in having children..."   
      
      
      
   "I'm not expressing any now. I thought you wanted a sperm donor, quick   
   deposit, no withdrawals -- figuratively speaking, and absolutely no interest   
   in the result."   
      
      
      
   "So, you'd do this for purely altruistic motives?"   
      
      
      
   "Okay, this is not a general philanthropy. I wouldn't do this for a complete   
   stranger. Therefore, the fact that it's you is an inducement. You want a   
   baby, I'd like to give you one... a baby, that is. I can help, I want to   
   help, it's as simple as that. Overanalyse it to your heart's content if you   
   like."   
      
      
      
   "There's nothing simple about this."   
      
      
      
   "'Course it is. Unless you are considering something outside the theory   
   we've discussed. Man ejaculates in woman on set day and walks away. What's   
   not simple about that? Basic, simple biology."   
      
      
      
   "Put that way, nothing, but... could you do it?" She asked in a twist of his   
   previous question.   
      
      
      
   He paused for a few moments, a range of emotions flitting across his face.   
   Then he smiled. "Yes."   
      
      
      
   "But that's not you," she repeated herself, flustered and befuddled; her   
   turn for her mind to be scampering after rabbits. She felt like Alice   
   falling down the rabbit hole.   
      
      
      
   "What's not me? Reproduction is a basic instinct. It takes rational thought   
   to override the instinct to mate. You're asking for 'procreate and   
   scarper' -- no consequences. No shotgun wedding. No sending kids through   
   college. What's not to like? This is just you, me and a primitive response."   
      
      
      
   "You wouldn't be uncomfortable with the lack of sexual spontaneity?"   
      
      
      
   "No."   
      
      
      
   "But that's not you." She'd begun to sound like a record stuck in a groove.   
   Any minute now the white rabbit would appear.   
      
      
      
   "How do you know what's me, Dana? The only facts you should be taking into   
   account about me are physical attributes, mental stability and health   
   record. So, apart from a tendency to require corrective lenses, a propensity   
   to get my ass kicked and to get frequently shot at, the Mulder family, to   
   the best of my knowledge, passes genetic muster."   
      
      
      
   "Mulder, isn't this taking altruism too far?"   
      
      
      
   "This is different to an anonymous sperm donor how? Would you rather a   
   complete stranger? Someone who'd do this without knowing you? I want to   
   help. I'm willing to help.  As far as I know, I'm able to help. Do you see   
   some abnormality that makes me unsuitable to be your child's father? Or, do   
   you just not see me as your child's father? If I was an anonymous donor,   
   would you not choose me from a list of attributes or is it easier when you   
   can make a logical, clinical choice? If so, that implies that you're not   
   being truly objective. Is it something I can change -- different tie, change   
   of underwear... different haircut?"   
      
      
      
   "No. No, I don't want you to change a thing," she said in agitation.   
      
      
      
   "Some social consideration?" he persisted.   
      
      
      
   "I wouldn't want this to come between us, Mulder," she blustered eventually,   
   getting to the crux of the matter. Wouldn't want to lose you, she thought.   
   Something she'd tried not to acknowledge to herself but there it was, a big   
   red flag in front of her. Past experience indicated that once the sex   
   stopped so did the relationship and that was just not to be considered. Not   
   to mention, it was a stupid thing to say. Having a baby was bound to make a   
   difference.   
      
      
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)