Carson Evolved Ch. 05

Carson gave it some thought. Since he'd come through the attack essentially unscathed, he'd been a little dismissive of the need to take additional precautions. In light of this morning's conversation, though, maybe he needed to reconsider. After all, he'd be heartbroken if anything happened to his Pride or his unborn children, never mind his own well-being.

"Alright, you're hired," he said. "Why don't you come by the house this evening for dinner, and we'll discuss any ideas you have?"

"Actually," she said as she stood, "I have a team on standby, people I trust. I'd like to go ahead and send them out to your house to do a preliminary sweep and security assessment, while I remain here with you. We can talk about their findings and recommendations this evening, while you show me to my quarters."

He smiled at that. He was just imagining the response that his Lionesses were going to have to the beautiful woman with the enormous rack sharing the house with them. I wonder which one will be the first one to suggest that I add her to the Pride? he idly wondered. His money was on Sam, though his matriarch had become quite vocal about her desire to see him add to his Director-qualifications lately as well.

The thought of adding Tilda to his Pride prompted him to take a closer look at the woman. As he'd thought, she was tall. In fact, standing next to her, she was about an inch taller than his own 6'2". With a different girl, the combination of her height and large frame might have made her seem plodding. Instead, she moved like giant cat, hidden power making her seem to be prowling.

Her hair was a dark reddish-gold, parted in the middle and the length loosely gathered into a ponytail, tied with a black ribbon. Her eyes, when he looked, caught him off-guard. She had piercing, gray eyes. In combination with her hair and light skin tone, the overall effect was other-worldly. Carson was fascinated, and he was definitely not thinking good employer-type thoughts when he realized that she'd been waiting on his response to her suggestion.

"Sorry," he said. "At the risk of sounding inappropriate to a woman I've just met; I must say that you are absolutely stunning. I was lost for a moment there."

She grinned at him ferally and stepped a little closer. "No apology necessary. You are an Orriri man, and I am an Orriri woman. It's difficult to not think like that most of the time. I was definitely sizing you up for a roll or two in the hay."

She stepped back and said, "Too bad, though. For you I mean. We could have fun, but I doubt you have what it takes to be the father of my children."

Carson's eyebrows arched in surprise. This was new. "Are you suggesting that I don't have the equipment?" he asked with a chuckle. "I think the five babies I have on the way are evidence to the contrary."

Tilda cocked her head and looked at him in speculation. "Any Orriri man can make babies, Mr. Jayne. That's not the hard part, no pun intended. The hard part is getting an Orriri woman to want to make babies with you. You're pretty enough," she said, "And I'm sure that we'd have a great time together before I wore you out," she added with a smirk. "But, that's not enough for me. If you think you're going to breed me, you have your work cut out for you."

Carson grinned and asked, "Don't I even get a hint?"

She paused in thought, then smiled and said, "I'll give you one freebie: The father of my children won't need a hint." Changing subjects, she took a deep breath and looked around. "Now, I have some phone calls to make, and you have some work to do. Where can I make my calls that I won't be in your way?"

Carson had Corinne set her up in the office adjacent to his for the time being. They'd just have to figure out a better system down the road.

He settled into his chair to get back to work. Every once in a while, though, his thoughts drifted to the woman next door, pondering the meaning of the hint. If she'd been chumming to attract a shark, she definitely had his attention now. He resolved to do everything he could to solve the riddle, if for no other reason than he wanted to be the man who tamed the wildcat.

Unbeknownst to Carson, while he was pondering her meaning and making his resolution, between phone calls she was remembering their conversation just as fondly. Please let him be the one, she thought.

*****

The rest of the week was...interesting.

Monday evening, following their discussion at work, Carson introduced Tilda to his household, explaining why she was there. Instead of focusing on the potential threat to his life, he'd simply informed the women that he felt that, in light of the attack, he should make sure that his family was secure. After all, they were carrying his babies, a comment that prompted dreamy grins of satisfaction.

After dinner, Tilda had briefed Carson on her team's assessment of the physical security of the estate and given him a list of suggested improvement projects that would help make his home more secure. Included were the installation of video and audio monitoring capabilities, along with a control room, a reinforced entry gate security checkpoint that would be manned by security team members, and a few other tricks to ensure a more self-sufficient operation of the house, like a standby generator system.

Probably the biggest expense was going to be the addition of a bunkhouse to house the team members when they were off duty. The property was already physically isolated from town, and it made more sense for the agents to be on-site in case of emergency. The other major expense was the addition of a panic room.

Carson had been concerned about the cost until he spoke with Thurston. His beta had assured him that they had more that enough resources to accomplish all of the proposed upgrades. "In fact," he'd said, "Some of this we planned on doing years ago. We held some funds in reserve when we built this house for future upgrades, in case we needed to expand or anything down the road. At the rate you're going, we're going to need to add another wing of rooms with a day care and nursery," he added with a wink.

Carson laughed along with him, before suggesting that it probably wasn't a bad idea to incorporate both into the renovation project. He had no idea how many children he was going to end up with, but if he had the resources to make it happen, Carson preferred having them where he could be involved in their lives.

Delivering the good news about the renovations to Tilda had seemed like a good idea, right up until she laughed and morphed into a drill sergeant. She coerced him into beginning training in hand-to-hand combat techniques. "You need to be able to handle yourself without relying on us too much," she said.

That first night, he'd grumbled, "I'm more of a lover than a fighter," as he found himself once again sprawled on the floor.

Extending her hand to help him up yet again, Tilda had answered, "Yeah, but sometimes you don't have a choice." When he passed her on his way to get a drink of water, she swatted his ass, causing him to yip and spin out of range. With a cheeky grin on her face, Tilda said, "Besides, I'd hate to see something happen to those cute buns." Ruefully, Carson rubbed his stinging cheek as he turned away again.

In the coming weeks, he would find that getting thrown around a gym by a Valkyrie was not a pleasant experience, no matter how many times he was smacked in the head with a giant boob or found himself on his back with the shapely warrior straddling his chest. More than once, he'd been tempted to press his luck and grope something interesting, usually right before she belittled him again for being such a terrible fighter, but thought better of it.

On Tuesday evening, Carson had been relaxing in the library before dinner when he heard the doorbell. Henry answered the door as usual, and Carson hadn't been paying much attention until he heard the excited voices of his Pride from the front foyer. Grabbing his drink, he'd sauntered out to see what the commotion was. To his surprise, Quinn Pruitt was the object of a series of hugs from his Lionesses, thanking her for her quick actions in saving Carson's life.

He hadn't heard that his invitation for her to have dinner at the house had been accepted for this evening; apparently, his matriarch had arranged things. After dinner, she'd pulled him aside and once again suggested, rather strongly, that he add Quinn to their Pride. When he sat with Quinn later on to discuss the concerns that her father had expressed, and to question her on her desires, Quinn had simply said, "If you want me, I'm yours."

"Are you sure about this, Quinn? I'm a lawyer. I'm certain that we can find a way to solve the problems with your father's firm another way."

Quinn frowned at him. "Do you not find me attractive? I'm mean, I know I'm not in the class of the other girls here, but..."

"No, no, no," he interrupted. "That's not at all what I mean. You're beautiful in your right; don't think otherwise. I just cringe when I think that you want to have a baby with me because your father offered you up as a sacrifice to save his business."

"Oh," she said. Then she grinned and said, "You really have no idea what it's like to be a woman in the project, do you?" When he shook his head, she continued, "For us, there's no higher goal than to have babies, preferably lots of them. Our late teen years, 15-, 16-, 17-years old, we're dreaming about getting pregnant. We have other interests too; I went to school to be a nurse, for example. But that's not my focus. I want to find a good man who will give me children to help change the world.

"I didn't...don't...resent my father for suggesting you. My family was always going to give me advice on choosing a partner; I'm just relieved that he was able to find someone like you where my pregnancy could help the family as well. I don't look at it as him dictating to me; I see it as him looking out for me as best he could. How much more could he love me than that?"

Carson gave it some thought. It was probably based at least a little bit on social conditioning, but at least she didn't seem to feel like she was being pressured into this match with him. If anything, she seemed grateful. "I'm glad you don't feel like I'm taking advantage of you, Quinn. I value the women in my life immensely, and I would never want to feel like someone was being coerced into having my baby."

Quinn laughed at that. "Oh, Carson, you're so sweet. I think you'll find that there's very little that I do because someone tells me to do it. That's why my dad was so anxious to get a match for me; he knew I'd do what I had to for him, and it was killing him to think I'd bring a van Heuval brat into the world." Then she'd moved closer to him and taken his hand. "I was attracted to you before Dad introduced us, and I'm looking forward to getting to know you and the rest of our family. But, more than anything, I can't stop thinking about what it will be like to be carrying your baby. So, don't you worry about me. I can't wait," she finished with a wink.

Carson hadn't got much sleep Tuesday night, either.

Dinner with the Cross clan on Wednesday evening was something else entirely. Walking up to the large wood-and-stone structure, Carson thought for the first time how odd it was that he was meeting his in-laws for the first time, several months after taking their only daughter for his wife; in a normal man's life, bringing Samantha home with a bun in the oven under those circumstances would have been grounds for concern. In the world he lived in, it was just about par for the course.

Samantha was having no such concerns. She practically vibrated with excitement at formally introducing Carson to her parents as her husband. He'd had the chance to speak with her father, briefly, at the council meeting. In the excitement of the social, however, they hadn't managed a connection with her mother. The door opened before they reached it; the woman standing in the doorway caused Carson to do a double-take. He literally bit his tongue to keep from delivering a corny line about not knowing Samantha had a sister; the woman looked that much like his wife.

Caitlyn Cross had come into her husband's life after the unfortunate death of his first wife in a Maglev train derailment. So, whereas he was nearing 60, she was only 42-years old. Looking her over, any concerns Carson might have had about how well Sam would age evaporated. Much like Helena Livingstone, Caitlyn looked more like early 30s than early 40s.

The lookalike women squealed as they hugged tightly. As Alexander came to the porch, Sam pulled her mother by the hand to meet her husband. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my husband, Carson. Carson, this is my mother, Caitlyn Cross."

Carson extended his hand and stepped towards her, saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you...Oh, hello." He was interrupted when she brushed aside his hand and pulled him into a surprisingly firm hug. As she did so, Carson felt an odd sensation pass along his spine. It was almost like a static charge that caused the hair of his neck to stand up.

Caitlyn must have felt it too, because she almost jumped back, lightly exclaiming, "Oh!" She looked from Carson to Sam questioningly; Sam mouthed, "Later." Her mother nodded and said to Carson, "Welcome to our home. I'm so happy you're here. Any man that captured my little girl's heart must be something special." She linked arms with Carson and began leading him towards the house. As they walked, she continued, "I want to hear all about how you two met."

By the end of dinner, Carson was a little wrung out. Caitlyn was a chatterbox and interested in learning everything she could about her son-in-law. Carson didn't mind speaking with people, but he was usually a little more reserved, and he wasn't accustomed to speaking about himself so much at one time.

He might be forgiven, then, when his mind wandered a bit during the after-dinner discussion of the results of the experiment they'd conducted on Carson. Much like the experiment itself, a lot of talk took place about Carson, but little with Carson. He wasn't a scientist, and he didn't understand much of the discussion anyway. Alexander, on the other hand, had a doctorate in genetics. His family had been conducting research into everything from inherited traits to genetic abnormalities for as long as humans had begun to understand the role chromosomes played in a person's makeup. They had accomplished a number of significant milestones, not the least of which was inducing mental powers in Carson; they weren't prepared to publicize those results just yet, however.

Carson was more or less drifting along with the flow of conversation when his boat nearly capsized, metaphorically. It was during a discussion on possible future directions of their research. Sam was talking, as discretely as possible, how she felt a kind of 'tingly' sensation that built up when she and Carson were being intimate, and how she wondered what it might mean. That's when Caitlyn brought up the odd sensation she'd felt when hugging Carson earlier.

Sam turned to Carson and asked, "Did you feel anything?" In the wake of the shock of learning that he could read minds in some capacity, Carson was a little reluctant to admit that he had. But, he'd promised Sam and her father that he was up for more experiments. He nodded to her and said, "Yeah, I did. It was like a static charge building up, making the hairs on my neck stand up."

Sam looked at him, speculatively. "You said you didn't feel any tingling sensation with me, didn't you?" He gave her a small nod. She turned and looked at her father. "Do you suppose...?"

Clearly, the two of them had worked closely for some time on this project, because he didn't even ask for clarification. He just nodded, with a little smile on his face. He said, "I think there's a good chance, at least." Sam excitedly moved to sit next to her father, and they began talking in low tones, effectively relegating Carson and Caitlyn to being merely observers; they remained silent while the other two were quietly discussing things.

Caitlyn had seen this happen before and moved to sit next to Carson. "There's no telling when they'll come back to earth, now," she said with a little smile. She took his hand and asked, "How are you adjusting to things, these days? Samantha said you had some qualms about being in the project at first?"

He shrugged. "I'm a lot better these days. She's right; it took quite a while until I really accepted that people actually do live their lives like this. Sam's been great, though, and she's really helped me to understand that we have a responsibility to do what we can to improve society." As he spoke, he noticed the same staticky sensation where their bodies were in closest proximity.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, quietly.

Caitlyn was definitely feeling something. Hers was less like a static charge and more like a tingling sensation that seemed to intensify the longer she sat near him, and especially when Carson got closer. Whatever was building at the skin level, was sweeping to her erogenous zones. She wasn't the scientist that her husband and daughter were, but her observation skills still worked. And what she observed was that her body was reacting to Carson's presence, priming itself for sex. She found him to be handsome, but this was deeper than casual interest. She was rapidly becoming wet, and unconsciously, she began to rub her thighs together as an itch began to build.

"Caitlyn?" She was torn from her introspection when her husband called her name. "Are you okay? You look a little flushed."

She glanced at Carson nervously and said, "I'm fine, dear."

Alexander Cross was an intelligent man. No, his intellect was near-genius. As a geneticist involved with Orriri, he'd devoted a significant amount of time to ferreting out the slightest clues that there might be of some project benefit to a particular pairing. As a result, he made a habit of observing the non-verbal communication between people. To his practiced eye, the slightest intake of breath, the merest of flushes, a tremble—they were all tells, signaling attraction between two people. He believed, what he'd based his research on, was that there was a different kind of signaling that took place between certain people. In their rational, scientific world, things like the kind of sensations Carson and Caitlyn had described were dismissed easily. But not Alexander. He postulated that they meant that the offspring of such a union had the potential to be very, very special.

What he was watching take place between his wife and Carson fascinated the scientist in him. He couldn't deny the excitement he felt at the possible breakthrough that might be generated, but the alpha male in him bristled at the idea of his Caitlyn carrying another man's child. The pregnancy itself he thought he could get over, but there was another issue that would cause much more consternation. His scientific mind told him that genes would be combined as they would, regardless of how they were introduced to each other. But he'd always had a nagging suspicion that there was a component that was based not in genetics, but in the manner in which the conception took place. There had simply been too many births throughout the centuries with little to no trace of supernatural abilities to ignore the possibility that something more was required. It defied statistical probability that regular conception would not produce the same outcome at some point in history otherwise.

And so, he was now faced with a difficult decision. The more he thought about it, though, the more his curiosity and thirst for human evolution began to pull him in a certain direction. Finally, he said, "Caitlyn, my dear, would you mind helping me in the kitchen? We can break out that cheesecake for dessert. Will you two excuse us?"