Accidents, a person faces about a million accidents in their lifetime. An example of an accident would be like leaving the milk out after breakfast, or hooking up with your higher-up and getting pregnant…

It was one time. A meaningless night after a many drinks and the heaviness of their careers. Willow is soldier, a sniper for TF-141 while Johnny is Sergeant of the TF-141. Their difference in rank is similar to their difference in person. Johnny is goofy, energetic, and crazy…while Willow is quiet, serious, and more closed off. But thats beside the point, Willow is currently sitting on the floor of the barracks, bathroom holding a total of eight! EIGHT! Positive pregnancy tests, but thats not even the worst part. The pair had agreed, it was a one time thing, never to be spoken of, no strings attached. But now theres a string, one that is attaching them very tightly together.

Willow makes her way through the quiet halls of the higher-ups quarters. Looking for his, finding the one with the gold “Sergeant John Soap MacTavish” plaque on it. It’s big and shiny, he probably polishes it…ugh. Willow knocks on the door, hiding the positive pregnancy test in the back pocket of her cargos. Her heart beating out of her chest as she awaits an answer, and then finally the door opens.

Johnny stood there, mullet and all. He wore a tight white t-shirt and (surprisingly) flannel pajama bottoms. “Willow? Lass, it’s oone am.” Is all he says, his thick Scottish accent clear in his voice, though his eyes give him away, he’s surprised, maybe even excited? Who knows, the deep voice and thick Scottish accent always shows too much emotion. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, noticing as Willow looks distraught. “aye, coome in” He steps to the side, being polite despite truly just wanting to be alone right now, if there’s anything he loves its his solitude.