AN: Done as a prompt on the portalkinkmeme, in which Wheatley briefly returns to Aperture in the human body GLaDOS 'punished' him with, to ask an important question.
Disclaimer: Valve owns all rights to Portal and the characters therein.
"Um, I had a question to ask you, as you're Chell's mum and all? The telly says I gotta ask her mum first. Well, really her da' but not sure what would classify her dad as being...the relaxation chamber maybe?"
"What on earth or Aperture made you think that fat ugly human was my daughter. Doesn't the fact we tried to kill each other repeatedly tell you anything?"
"Mothers and daughters fight like that all the time, right? On the noonweekday show, the daughters are always trying to poison their mothers for sleeping with their boyfriends or getting amnesia or in-hair-a-tance. Although please don't sleep with me as I don't think we could find a bed big enough, one. And two I'd rather think you'd kill me first." He paused for a second in contemplation. "I'm never sure how much to take away from that show. If it really were a treatise on how humans acted Chell would have to pause every fifteen minutes and stare at me until the commercials were over. However, the nice dark brown lady and her companion are always talking about mothers being overprotective of their children and being afraid to let them out of the house so that reminded me of you-"
"Look, stupid former metal ball, ask your question or submit to neurotoxin testing. Your choice."
"Is it ok if I try to reproduce with Chell?"
If GLaDoS had A) mouth, throat and assorted organ accessories capable of ingesting fluids, B) coffee, and C) the ability to spit, then the sterile white panels would have gotten a new decorative brown spray pattern.
"Are you serious?"
"Well, yeah." Wheatley said, blushing and uncharacteristically brief in his answer.
"What prompted this disgusting desire to breed? Isn't the human species doomed enough already?" She asked, curious in a horrified sort of way. She immediately regretted asking, afraid she just might hear all the gory details his perverted little mind could have worked up.
"Oh, um. We found a new tribe of humans not so long ago, and some of them were miniatures. I thought maybe humanity had mutated after so long into a compactly adorable form, very useful for conserving resources, and that. But it looks like those are just humans in the larval stage or something, not sure I understood it all." He was playing with his fingers as he spoke and trying not to look the master AI in the optic.
"She just looked so happy, playing with the tiny humans, although I admit I was rather disturbed by all the violence they liked to display on spheres." He shuddered. "Anyway, I thought, 'bet Chell'd be really, really happy to have a mini human of her very own, someone smaller to play with', and the other big humans were hinting that some kind of deadline for having them was coming up. Incidentally, did we ever have a biological clock here? Seems like the kind of science thing Aperture would have had. It sounded familiar…but to be honest, ever since you put me in this body, my memory's been a bit fuzzy."
His face tilted in momentary concentration, looking a bit anxious about this shortcoming. GLaDOS mentally curled a lip at the grotesque way his human mouth could pucker and twist so expressively, like putty with ginger stubble. Revolting.
"As much as I'd prefer to halt any and all attempts on your part to ruin perfectly good genetics with your sophomoric reasoning and prune your rubbery freak lankishness out of the gene pool, this really isn't any of my business. If Test Subject Number One wants her progeny to hate her for all time for saddling them with inferior DNA that is her affair. I am perplexed that, upon discovering other humans, she has not found a way to pair bond with a more….Alpha specimen." She gave a simulated sigh of frustration and fake pity. "Brain damage can be so cruel."
"Um, so is that a yes?" Wheatley interjected.
"For the purposes of this unfortunate encounter, just assume I will actively not attempt to dissuade you from your gruesome and ill-advised pursuit. If Chell desires to have you flail around on top of her like a spawning salmon that is her affair." Somehow, GLaDOS contrived to make her mechanical frame look ill. "Ugh, I think I just made my secondary processors blue screen just thinking about it."
"Great!" said the selectively deaf Wheatley. "Just one more question,"
"You have 55 seconds before I call the nano-hounds."
"How does one make minihumans, exactly?"