I don't want to set the world on fire...

Morgan woke up from his dream, nightmare or pleasant he really couldn't tell. The fetid air of Megaton was all he could smell, all he could taste. Hands fumbled at a bedside table until they located a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the bottom of the pack, one of the orange filters popping up just enough for him to grab it with his teeth and pull it out. The moment he lit it, Nova stirred next to him. She opened her lips, eyes still closed. Laughing softly, he took a deep drag from the tobacco, then held it to her lips until she took her own. He remembered the anger that Sarah had spoken with when she found at that he smoked. Someone who wore the power armor of the Brotherhood shouldn't have such a vice, and besides, smoking was hazardous to his health! She had said something along those lines, and he couldn't help but laugh at her. They lived in a nuclear wasteland, a place where to leave the relative safety of a city, you had to take a gieger counter with you. And she wanted him to be worried about the hazards of smoking?

He was brought back to the here and now with a bite to his back. Nova smirked when he yelped, scowling at her, but he didn't stay mad at her for long. She didn't require much from him, just 120 caps. But that didn't mean she didn't care for him in her own way, and she worried about him, when he went all off into the space of his own head. Or at least that's what she'd told Gob, and that Ghoul could never keep a secret from Morgan. He had spilled his guts (thankfully not literally) as soon as he had seen him after she had said it. Not that Morgan minded that much. She didn't bother him, didn't want him to change, she just wanted him with her when he was with her. Not out there.

But that's where he always was. The Wasteland. From the radiation craters out by the Potomac, the metro system of DC, hell, even the area around the Citadel, he was always thinking about the Wasteland. Jericho had said it best. He had said that, 'Morgan doesn't live in any town or house. Morgan stays there. He lives out in the Wasteland. That's his home.' Gob had told him about that to. It was amazing how friendly the ghoul was. Probably because Morgan was nice to him, and took little messages between Carol and Gob. He'd even offered to pay off Gob's debt and escort him to the Underworld, but Colin wouldn't have anything to do with it. Said that Gob's debt would be paid when it was paid. So that probably meant that Gob'd be free when Colin finally croaked. Hell, the ghoul probably wouldn't even leave then. Just throw his name up on the bar and keep running it like nothing ever changed. And that was the real truth of the Wasteland, wasn't it? Nothing ever changed. Three Dog kept yelling on the radio, Gob kept selling drinks, the Church of the Atom kept standing around the bomb, and Nova kept charging him 120 caps every time. Everything stayed the same.

He tapped his smokes again, taking out another. Might as well let Nova have the first one. She was going to be mad at him today, but the carton he was going to leave her would soothe over her anger a little.

"So sweetheart, what's the plans for today?" She asked him as she blew out smoke, sitting up with her back against the headboard. He couldn't help but stare at her a little when she did. The sheets had pooled around her waist, but she was as naked as the day she was born from there up. Morgan had only seen one naked woman before he came out of the Vault, and then when he got here and Nova had told him about her little rate and bed, he had jumped right on it. He still did, rather frequently. As long as he had the caps and she had the time.

"Goin' up to Rivet maybe. Or up to Underworld. Gob's got a letter for Carol that I told him I'd run for him."

As predicted, her pretty little lips curled up in anger, and her eyebrows come together to. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, trying to cut the storm off before the clouds even had a chance to boil over.

"You know that Gob misses her, and it ain't right that he don't get to talk to her that much. And since I'm th' only one who's willin'..." She snorted again, turning away from him.

"I just don't understand why you think you have to be his personal mailman. Or go to Rivet so much. You have someone up there too?" She got out of bed, letting her sheets fall, and crossed her arms and stared away at the wall. "If that's what it is, that's fine, I still take work when you're not here, so it doesn't really matter to me if you're fucking someone else. Just don't lie to me about it."

Morgan shook his head as he got up from her bed, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. He just stood like that for a moment, both their cigarettes trailing smoking up into the air, and both were quiet. When she finally loosened up and leaned back into him, he spoke.

"You know, and I know, that I ain't got anyone out in Rivet City. I damn sure don't have anyone in the Underworld, and I don't have anyone in any of the other places I go to. We ain't exclusive, like you said, but I ain't out there slingin' everythin' I got out over th' Wasteland either."

She made a disgruntled noise, shifting so that more of her body was pressed against his. "You're going to go back out there, and come home like you did after Paradise Falls one of these days, I just know it."

He stiffened. He didn't like talking about Paradise Falls. They had laced him up good and tight with every bullet a man could think of at that damn place. But he had been okay for long enough to at least get back to Megaton. True, he had collapsed on the Sheriff as soon as he came through the gate, but Doc Church had fixed him up just fine. Fine enough that he had went back to Paradise Falls and given them their bullets back over a few brats from Little Lamplight. That lil' bit had made Three Dog go crazy on the broadcasts, calling him everything but the damned Messiah of the Wasteland. That was another reason he wanted to go to Underworld. GNR's studio was just a hop, skip, and a jump away, and he wanted to tell Three Dog to calm it down just a bit. It was getting out of hand.

"I was fine. Doc fixed me up, I was back on my feet in a few days." He took his cigarette in between his fingers so that he could lay a small kiss to her neck. "Takes more than a couple of slavers to kill me. Hell, the Yao Guai's ain't done it yet either."

She didn't speak, choosing to turn instead, tossing her smoke and his into the ashtray besides the bed. She smiled at him, pushing him back down onto the mattress before straddling his hips. Her hand reached down in between them, grabbing him, and she kissed him, smiling as she spoke.

"Then I better give you a good enough reason to make sure you don't let them kill you, huh sweetheart?"