Charlette seemed fine, as she giggled while retrieving her hand from underneath his.  She even said as much.  Truly fine, or just putting on a brave façade?  Well, Paul thought, if she could manage it, then so would he.  If nothing else, he’d definitely be as supportive as possible.  After all, if there was a little Pauline or Paul swimming around inside of her, then that was all on him.<br/><br/><i>Paul Junior?  Surely, you can come up with something far better, Old Man.</i><br/><br/>Who cares about a name?! Paul thought, already annoyed.  After inspecting one of the tests for instructions, Charlette announced, "Okay... here we go."  She disappeared down the hall, the bathroom her obvious destination.  Honestly speaking, another shot of whisky called out to him, demanding his attention.  A smirk, and he also refrained from imbibing.<br/><br/>Following a flush, he left the table to check up on her.  The bathroom door was slightly ajar, so he peeked in to see her lying on the floor.  Paul quickly knelt by her side, stroking her bare arm for some comfort.  “You okay?” he simply asked.  “Can I get you anything?”