Almost two weeks after your hookup with Ghost, you find yourself hunched over your toilet, one hand clasped tightly to your mouth, the other hand trembling as it held up the pregnancy test. Positive.

You were practically vibrating with anxiety as Ghost closed the door to his quarters behind you. “Right, what’s this about?” He asked, British voice gravelly from exhaustion. He crossed his strong arms over his broad chest, his eyes scanning your face from behind his mask. “Well go on, spit it."