Once upon a time there was a young assistant professor at Harvard named Fox Mulder. A handsome and exceptionally intelligent man, passing genetical muster in every possible way, who one rainy, November day found himself in dire need of cash.
He turned to his friends for council, since they, being as broke as he was, were no good for money.
“You’re a fine specimen of the male animal,” said Langly opening his fifth beer that evening, “there’s a market for that.”
“I don't have time,” Mulder began but Byers cut him off.
“Not like that."
Langly grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "A sperm bank."
“Donate.” Langly said mater of factly, while Mulders’ jaw landed on the table. “I did.”
“Then they’re not too picky.”
“Fuck off," he bristled, "I finished MIT, top of my class.”
“Right, no.” Mulder said, with uncharacteristic finality, but the idea stuck.
20 years later, standing in the middle of the auditorium, he looked at a striking red-head, sticking out among sea of young faces.
“Logically I would have to say no,” she said, sticking her chin out defiantly, “energy requirements of intergalactic travel,”
“Mom, c’mon that was a rhetorical question,” said William under his breath, slight blush barely noticeable on his warm complexion, so unlike her and yet.
“It’s okay William,” Mulder said, sitting on the edge of the desk at the centre of the room, and turned back to the woman, huge smile on his face.
“Conventional wisdom, very practical," he said and spoke to the room in general. "It’s practicality that got us to the moon, and one day will get us beyond our solar system. Dreamers would get nowhere without the skeptics keeping them in line and making them work to achieve their dreams.” Her forehead smoothed and she smiled back. “Perhaps the technology is unimaginable to us now, but one day we might think of space travel they way we think about flight. Thank you, mrs. Scully”
“Miss,” the woman corrected him, still smiling, “I was never married.”
“That explains the practical part.” Mulder said and addressed the rest of the class. “You managed to sidetrack me, as usual.” They laughed and he grinned at them, “but since this is our first class this year, I’ll let it slide. That’s it for today, go bother someone else.” He waved his hand and the room started to clear out, laughs and friendly smiles sent his way as people passed him by.
With the corner of his eye, he saw William linger behind with his mom.
“Questions, Will?” He asked the boy when they approached, but his eyes were on the blue ones of the petite, elegant woman next to him.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your lecture,” she said, before Will spoke up. “Will kept going on and on about this course all summer.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, we’re always open to discussion around here.” Mulder grinned, and leaned back on the desk again, “you have a great kid, miss Scully.”
“I’m standing here,” Will said, obviously embarrassed.
“You brought your mom to school,” Mulder laughed, “bare the consequences like a man.”
Scully laughed, and patted his arm.
“It was my idea, a dare, sort of,” she said, turning back to Mulder, “I didn’t think you’d notice, and then I got carried away.”
“Good thing you have a cool mom,” he said to the boy, “your reputation will recover.”
"Can we go now?" Will said to his mother, eager to get out.
"We could have lunch," she said, looking Mulder in the eye.
"People do tend to eat around this time."
"Would you like to have lunch?" She said and Will turned on his heel.
"I'm going, bye, see you next week, professor."
"Have a good one, Will." Mulder said, never looking away from his mom. The doors opened, swung shut, he smiled. "So, about that lunch."
"About those aliens," she said and grinned back.