Since Theora had first met him, Edison Carter had always impressed her, maybe even fascinated her at times. For one thing, he was one of the few reporters she'd known who had a true sense of integrity and took on challenging stories for the sake of bringing criminals to justice and unveiling the seedy underbelly of the city, regardless of network reaction. For another, he had an instinctive sense for news stories, and pursuing them to their conclusion nearly always yielded gold.
Besides these facts, however, Theora was impressed and fascinated by how Edison's trademark determination transferred into the pursuit of her affection.
He had always been interested in her, and often liked to show it. In return, Theora liked to tease him, never giving hints of reciprocation. It was impossible, she knew, even if Edison refused to see. She wouldn't get involved for fear of being used, mistreated, disrespected. She was afraid of the dagger-sharp glares that fellow network employees would throw at her in the halls. She was especially afraid of the dirty two-syllable word- privilege.
But then she risked her life to save his, and her recuperation in the hospital gave Theora plenty of time to think over her relationship with Edison and how it could be taken to the next level.
And now, since they had first gotten together Theora found herself entertaining Edison Carter almost every night. Sometimes they went to his penthouse and sometimes they hung out at her place. Usually there was tea and laughing and heartfelt conversation. Always they ended up making love, tangled together into one four-legged being beneath the smooth sheets of whoever's bed it happened to be. Never did the other stay in the morning, unless he or she had brought over what he or she would need for the next day.
Theora was having so much fun with Edison that she didn't ruminate too seriously on the consequences of their nights together. In hindsight, it was an extremely foolish thing to do, but neither one ever considered protection. They were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that their relationship contained physical activity at all, and every night it happened so suddenly, smoothly, that there was hardly any time to ask.
But when Theora's period was a week, and then two weeks, and then (after waiting just for proof) a month late, the consequences descended harshly and threatened to beat her over the head.
And when the pregnancy test she held in her hands turned from blue to pink, she couldn't stop the pleasantly shocked grin from taking over her face, even as she did wonder what in the world she was going to do now.