The drunker the sex, the better, clearly. Even if you can’t remember exact details, the feral scratches down one’s back or hastily hidden hickeys are more than enough tipoff it was one of the better nights. Erika and Carlton certainly didn’t have any issues with it. Perhaps some slight teasing over it in front of others to rile the other up (which never worked in Carlton’s favor- those ears of his went off like little red beacons), but nothing beside that.  

No one ever said Erika exactly had an award winning personality, but lately she just started to get ruder and bitchier, if that was possible. And it was, and it was wearing thin on Carlton’s nerves the whole time. He wasn’t even sure if she was going out of the way to insult him by mooching off his food or hooch only to run to the bathroom to upheave it. Could have marked it up to a bug, but not with his ego, no.

Squirming her way through with some charm he’s just determined Spanish women are just blessed with, they found each other in one’s company with more liquor, which is seemingly the cause of all these problems.

Including the problem of her vomiting on his freshly polished spats. And she can sometimes drink him under the table, so this is awfully questionable. With a grimace, he stared at her as she admitted she felt like utter shit. After a few snarky replies of the likes of ‘Oh, really?’ and ‘I would have never guessed’, he voiced the inner thought of her being pregnant. They shared a forced laugh before pondering it.  No, no, FUCK.

A trip to doctor Matsumoto later confirmed it, and Erika was beyond livid. She screamed and pitched a fit about it, letting everyone in the base know. And it wasn’t modesty of him hiding in his room to avoid the knowing stares of him knocking up a teammate, or potential cheers, it was terror.

He was going to be a daddy.

Again.