Something primal in him enjoyed the image of Krystal pregnant as he adjusted himself and zipped up. Mac imagined her laid up in his bed, stomach stretched round and swollen, full of something he put inside her. Completely his.
What would come after the pregnancy though made him shudder. He wasn't equipped mentally or emotionally to deal with a baby. He could just as easily imagine himself creeping up to the crib with a baseball bat. All spun out, higher than a kite, in the middle of a mood swing. Bashing it to a bloody pulp to stop the screeching wails. God forbid it actually survived the both of them, that child would be the Antichrist incarnate.
Mac strode inside with thoughts of coat hangers and staircases swirling in his head. Even plans to take her to some kind of doctor and get her fixed after the little problem was dealt with. He failed to rejoin his buddies in the corner, instead stalking to the other seat beside her. Just in time to take in the horrified expression on Walter's face.
"Should you really be sucking down whiskey like it's water of you're pregnant?" he questioned, attempting to grab the bottle away only to have it snatched from her hands by Mac first.
"She don' know shit fer sure yet an if she is, she aint gonna be fer long." Mac snarled at him, downing an unhealthy portion before sliding the fifth back to her.
"If you're man enough to dump your load, you're man enough to dump diapers." she taunted him, taking another gulp.
She made a sound of appreciation as the fiery liquid scorched a path down her scream shredded throat.
Any retort Mac had was lost as undisguised comments about white trash met his ears from the pool table farthest from the bar. Turning to look back he found the trust fund gang were still present. Throwing a filthy grin towards the light haired one glaring in their direction Mac wrapped his hand around the metal leg of Kristy's bar stool. Yanking it towards his until she was flush against him, sending another black smirk Adam's way.
A scoff at Mac's petty, false, show of ownership left her mouth before Devon's gag made Kristy turn her attention to him, taking in his look of revulsion.
"What? You're not excited to be an uncle? I bet auntie Regina will just love it." she threw his way sarcastically, continuing her unladylike practice of plundering the booze bottle.
"No, I just can't believe you fucked that nasty tweaker again." he replied, wrinkling his nose is disgust at his brother. "If you go apologize maybe there's a chance O'Brien will forgive you." Devon added before he could stop himself.
The look she gave him clearly said "run motherfucker run" but he was rooted to his seat, afraid to move. She raised her voice only to override Mac's snarl.
"First of all, as you could see, I didn't really have much of a choice in the matter jackass. Second, do I ever give you my opinion on your fucked up sex life? No, I keep it to myself. If I want to jump on 'that nasty tweaker's pecker I don't need your approval you condescending little shit! And third it'll be a cold night in hell before I apologize or choose that puffed up peacock over Mac." she ranted, eyes going wide, hand smacking over her already bruised mouth as she realized what she had drunkenly blurted out.
"Damn right, ya know nobody'll fuck ya like I- oof" She interjected Mac's boast with an elbow to his ribs, glaring at him fiercely.
Walter watched as Kristy polished off the rest of the whiskey while playing keep away with Mac for the last sip.
"God damn it why won't you just let me get plastered in peace!" she demanded, holding the almost empty bottle at an arms length, keeping Mac at bay with a palm to his face.
"I am so sick of…what's your last name?" she asked Walter while hopping up from her seat and out of Mac's reach, downing the final gulp victoriously.
"Garcia." Walter answered tiredly, taking the empty bottle from her. He sent a silent prayer of thanks upward that closing time was only two hours away.
"Ah. I am so sick of Garcia men it isn't even funny," she grumbled, snatching her clutch off the bar and staggering towards the front door. Her steps were clumsy thanks to the booze and Mac's vicious handiwork between her legs.
"Cool it puppy dog, I'm only going out to smoke. You don't need to follow me." she mocked with a giggle over her shoulder at Mac who was following closely, the alcohol finally effecting her mood.
"Walter, get the tequila out when I get back, I want to celebrate this little bambino!" she shouted towards the bar, rubbing her nonexistent belly.
"Mujer loca tiene que ser cortado." Crazy woman needs to be cut off. Walter replied mostly to himself, shaking his head.
"Mierda, tengo mucho más potable a hacer viejo!" Bullshit old man I have plenty more drinking to do! she shot back, taking Walter by surprise.
Her cackling laugh at Walter's stunned face carried with her as she made her way outside. With the sound of dragging steel toed boots following close behind her clicking heels.
"Ya speak spick?" Mac questioned curiously, lighting his cigarette and leaning up against the wall across from her place on the porch railing.
"I speak several languages, including Spanish." she corrected him after taking a drag and clanging her lighter shut.
"Prove it." he commanded with a jerk of his chin.
He had to admit she looked damn sexy in the soft glow coming off the lights strung about the porch, even more so now that she was all dirty and ruffed up.
"Devo farti sentire in modo inadeguato il mio pezzo ignorante di spazzatura." I must make you feel so inadequate, my ignorant piece of trash. she murmured, her words seeping out with smoke as she tilted her head at him. "That's Italian."
"I don' speak wop but I know ya called me stupid." he growled with a snarling expression.
"Peut-être, mais je pourrais vous enseigner tellement si vous vouliez apprendre." Maybe, but I could teach you so much if you wanted to learn. she replied with a smile, making her voice extra breathy to accent the language. "French."
"Вы делаете меня с ума, я чувствую себя слишком много, когда вы находитесь рядом со мной." You make me crazy, I feel too much when you are near me. she continued, telling him things she would never admit in English. "Russian."
"Ba mhaith liom a titim ina chodladh fillte i do armas." I want to fall asleep wrapped in your arms. she whispered, looking longingly at him.
"Tha fuck was that?" he asked with irritation, becoming a little uncomfortable at the way she said the strange words.
"Gaelic." she told him with a small laugh. "It's the language of the leprechaun folk."
"Vos es ut me ames." You're making me love you. she quoted his earlier words. Words he probably didn't even remember whispering in the throes of passion. "Latin."
"Du bist mein, egal wie viel Sie es zu leugnen." You are mine, no matter how much you deny it. she muttered with a sly smile, looking up at him through her lashes. "German."
"A'ight I get it, yer a fuckin' genius." Mac spat, scowling at her.
Kristy laughed before sucking in another lung full of smoke.
"You asked for a demonstration." she reminded him with a shrug.
"How'd ya learn alla that?" he questioned, taking another drag off his own.
"Until Joe let me into the lab I spent most of my life with my nose buried in a book or doing extra online classes when I wasn't in school. I didn't have friends growing up or any interest in sex during high school to distract me so I ended up learning much more than the average kid. I was even pushed a couple grades ahead." she explained, a smile stretching her scars as she remembered something. "The look on Joe's face was priceless the first time I swore at him in French, I was nine."
Mac grunted, realizing they both grew up in a similar situation when it came to friends. Only her by choice, him by Walter's force. After flinging her cigarette butt into the dirt she was hobbling back inside with Mac on her tail, demanding tequila, salt, and cut limes.
"Don't look at me like that college boy I know you've done a body shot before!" she accused at Devon's questioning face, scooting chairs away from the table nearest to the bar. "Now get over here and lie down!" she ordered, smacking the sturdy wood surface.
"Hell nah, ya aint takin' shots offa that fucker!" Mac yelled, grabbing her by the arm.
"You're right Mackenzie, I'm taking shots off both of you!" she yelled back good naturedly like she was on spring break.
"Let me have my fun." she laughed, yanking her arm from his grasp she pushed him towards the table before turning to the bar to collect the tray Walter had set out for her containing the ingredients for mischief.
"Lay down." she hissed, humor leaving her voice at Mac's stubbornness.
"Has anybody ever told you you're a lot more fun when you're drunk?" Devon asked, looking up at her from his place on the table as she started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Nope, I never drank before I met Mac, fucker drove me to it. Literally." she quipped while his brother pissily laid down beside him, their sides touching to stay on the limited table space.
She stretched herself over Devon to yank the zipper to Mac's suit open down past his navel, his hand caught hers when she tried to continue, any lower and his semi hardon would be springing out for the entire bar to see. And they were all definitely watching.
"Quit." he grumbled at her naughty little smile, smacking her hand away.
"Nuh-uh ya use a shot glass fer-" Mac's complaint about her pouring tequila in his brother's belly button was cut short by a lime wedge being shoved into his mouth mid-bitch fit.
"Shhh, don't drop my lime now." she reprimanded him with a grin before moving to do the same to his navel.
Next she rubbed another lime in a line along Devon's stomach before filling it with salt, moving to do the same with a line along Mac's neck and collar bone on the opposite side of his bandaged bite. His head was forced to the side, turned away from his brother. He wouldn't be able to watch and make sure he wasn't slipping her tongue along with that lime without upsetting his line of salt. Popping a lime wedge in Devon's mouth she let out a laugh at the sight before her.
"Ready boys?" she cheered, not waiting for an actual answer before lunging on the line of salt and slurping the liquor from Devon's stomach.
Next came the lime, she plucked it from his mouth expertly without their lips even meeting. Sucking the tart juice from it she spit the green rind back at Devon before scurrying over to Mac's side like she was in a body shot relay race.
She licked Mac's line of salt much slower. Starting at his collar bone she trailed upward, sucking at his pulse and the end of the salt line before moving to lap the tequila out of his navel, giggling a bit at the happy trail hairs that tickled her nose. With one last circling lick along the outside she made her way up to his face, eating the lime out of his mouth, moving her lips against his, slipping her tongue past it to share the tangy mix of salt, tequila, and lime with him, causing a few hoops and hollers to let out from his buddies in the corner before she pulled away, leaving the rind in his mouth.
Her little victory dance was interrupted when Mac spun her around, demanding a body shot of his own.
"Gimmie a shot glass." he ordered Walter. Making his way back to her he shoved the glass in her cleavage and filled it generously with the fiery ditch water. Squeezing a little juice onto the pillow tops of her breasts he sprinkled them with salt, shoving a lime slice between her lips roughly.
With a leering grin he began attacking her tits, licking the salt off before sucking small hickies onto each one, causing some of the liquid to spill over the glass's edge. Saturating the front of her already wrecked dress. Satisfied with the marks he shoved his face in between her boobs, giving them a little motorboating before grasping the glass with his lips and knocking it back in one gulp.
Glass in hand he grabbed the back of her head, smashing his mouth against hers. The lime was pushed aside as his tongue squirmed with hers. She gave in, letting him dominate her mouth. Cat calls and suggestive crude humor sounded from the corner again, making Mac end their public makeout session, lime crushed in between his teeth. With a hiccup and a drunk snicker she pushed off his chest, staggering back to her place at the bar.
A hour and a half later with the bottle of tequila almost gone she was slumped against Mac's side. Slurring out how much she hated him while nuzzling her face into his shoulder.
"Yeah I fuckin' hate ya too, stupid bitch." Mac hissed almost fondly as he picked her up bridal style, her clutch and keys in his hand.
They'd found walking was no longer an option for her as soon as she tried. Kristy let out another bark of laughter, circling her arms around his neck.
"Nooope, I'm a smart bitch. S.M.R.T." she chuckled out against his neck, adding a few sloppy kisses along with her words.
Mac rolled his eyes, fighting the smile she was forcing onto his face with her drunken stupor.
Mac turned, backing out the door with her in his arms to shoot the blond prick in the corner a smirk of victory as he hauled Krystal out the door and Walter announced last call. He dumped her in the passenger seat without an ounce of finesse before making his way around to the drivers side. Kristy's head had lulled to the side, facing him she watched as he climbed in.
"Youu can be a good man sometimes Mackie. Macaroni and cheeeese. Big Mac and fries." she rambled off, a goofy smile plastered on her face.
Mac ignored her comment about his ability to pull his head out of his ass and be a half way decent person. A phenomenon that only seemed to occur when she was in need.
By the time he pulled up next to his truck she was out cold. A good thing considering she didn't feel it when he accidentally bashed her forehead into the door frame on their way inside.
He dropped her in a heap on the bed, moving to take her shoes off before deciding to take the easy route and just cut the soiled dress from her body, throwing the ruined tatter on the floor. He thought briefly about having his way with her while she was passed out as he gazed down at her naked body. It was no fun if she wasn't awake to fight him.
Instead he chose to roll her onto her stomach so she wouldn't choke to death on her own vomit if she hurled during the night. With one last look down at her he left, locking the back door behind him.