I Had My Homicidal Ex-Girlfriend's Lovechild
Authors: Zeborah and Sasscat Bu-to-y


Dear RideForever Magazine,

I've never told anyone this before. It all happened so long ago. It started when I met this woman. She had the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard. But there was one problem: I had to arrest her. You see, I'm a cop. And she was a criminal.

Well, ten years later she got out of prison and came to find me. We fell instantly into our old passion. For three days and nights we barely left the bedroom. We were in a mad rush of desire and rekindled ardour. But it could not last. She wanted me to go away with her, but I had to give up my job and all my friends. In the end, she left without me. I was desolate.

When I got out of hospital, I spent my days in a disconsolate haze of misery and self-pity. I wished I'd gone with her... I didn't want to spend my life without her. And that was when I realised how I could keep a part of her always. I broke into the evidence locker and took a swab off the gun she'd used to frame me for murder. (I still maintain that was accidental.)

It was relatively simple to elicit meiosis in her deoxyribonucleic acid, and to implant the result into an ovine template (this was clearly a very minor extension of what is now common cloning technique) which could be fertilised by the handy addition of a sample of my own genetic material. The resulting zygote I introduced into my new womb, which I had grown specifically for this purpose.

Nine months later I took a holiday in the arctic wilderness, where I performed a caesarian section on myself, not wishing to risk the opprobrium of my friends should they discover my sordid secret. Even then I was ashamed of myself - and worse, of my new son, Philip*.

I never expected Eleanor* to come back into my life. One day when teaching young Philip the periodic table of the elements in preparation for his first day at preschool, I heard a knock at the door, and a voice I'd know anywhere, across a thousand lifetimes. The voice of a nightengale, an angel, a siren. The voice of Eleanor.

Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and alabaster brow. Her Maybelline-perfect lips parted moistly. "Jim*," she beseeched me beguilingly. "Is it really you?"

Everything went dark. For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of falling snow. Then little Philip clutched at my pantleg. "Daddy, Daddy," he cried, "what comes after strontium?"

Suddenly my vision was clear, and I knew what I must do. I must tell her the truth. Quickly I turned to deal with Philip. Part of me was almost tempted simply to tell him that after strontium came yttrium, but fortunately I still retained some modicum of control. "Look it up on the table, Philip. Good research skills aid in the formation of a strong and healthy mind."

Next I turned to Eleanor, my raven-haired beauty. "My love," I said, "there's something I must tell you."

"What is it?" she demanded. "What do you have to tell me, Jim? Where does Philip fit into all this? I'm so confused!"

"I'm so sorry, Eleanor. You see... Philip is your lovechild. I created him from some DNA you left on my gun." I felt so guilty and embarrassed; I couldn't think what had possessed me to do it. But somehow, looking over at Philip, head bent sweetly over his tables, I couldn't bring myself to regret it.

Eleanor gasped. "My god! Jim, I had no idea. How could you do such a thing?"

Before I could answer, Philip looked up at her with his angelic face, cerulean eyes wide with shining hope. "Are you my Mummy?"

Faced with the knowledge that she held the precious happiness of a small child precariously in her hands, Eleanor melted. "Yes, Philip, yes I am."

I thought my heart would burst of happiness. We sank to the floor in front of the fireplace and talked for hours. It turned out that while on the run from the law, Eleanor had wound up in Iraq where she'd met my former boss, now a highly accomplished international spy. The two had fallen madly in love. Philip was overjoyed. He now had two Mummies!

--
The End
*Some names may have been changed to protect the innocent.



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