He took a quick sip of tea and placed the mug on the ground next to the bed before leaning back on both arms. It took barely a morsel of her flesh to appear along with the prospect of sex to make him half-hard. All she had to do was sit back, look all soft and stuff. He could offer to inspect her bruise on her thigh, she got a nasty knock at that fishery plant last week and it appeared only now to have started healing.

"Fire away, General, hoping for another teachable moment here. I'm all about the learning and- and stuff." He poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek then lifted his hands to his head and flexed.

"Stop that."

"Distracting you?"

"In a word, yes. Now, do you want to know or you're just - I don't know, dicking with me?"

"That's an option for later, Ma'am. I want to know, do it, tell me. Like I said, a teachable moment." He put his arms back down and behind him. If she didn't hurry up then he'd just have to go with the dicking bit, far more enticing in his version than what she was talking about. The longer she sat in that chair with her foot twirling in front of him the more he wanted to forget about wanting to know why he stank and wanted to know more how her toes would taste and what it would be like to have them in his mouth. How does one have such pretty toes in a place like this?

She picked up her tea, took another sip and placed it back on the table. "Okay if you're serious." She rubbed a hand down the side of her face. "The ugly. You smell like ghoul and blood and putrid festering flesh. Not all the time, but it's like your jacket absorbs the damn stink whenever we fight them. Even when I can't smell it on myself I can smell it on you."

He let out a long breath. "Harsh, General, but true." He scratched his head. "That kinda explains why you keep making me wash it and why it's falling apart. However, you know, hazards of the job. Rather smell of dead ghoul then be- an actual ghoul- or dead at the hands of a ghoul. On the whole I think I can deal with that." He remained unaffected by the revelation; He'd been paid to do a job and it wasn't something he could avoid given what they just had done to clear out the settlement. "Okay, the bad?"

"Easy. Cigarettes. I despise the smell of them, how it lingers on clothes and the air and on people's breath. Given you don't always seem to have access and you don't smoke much when I'm around I've learnt to live with it."

"Really? Why do you keep giving me cigarettes then?" There wasn't a journey she returned from where she didn't hand a packet to him. Even what he carried now was picked up by her and given to him when they arrived here.

"I don't know, ask me later." She waved a hand in the air and looked away from him.

"You know when you're around I have other things to occupy my time, you keep me busy in so many different ways. But, when you're not, a cigarette takes the edge off, they just make me mellow. I don't need them." He lied, he'd killed for less than a cigarette before and he'd certainly killed for one in the dim dark past.

"I know, that's why I didn't say anything." She drew her shoulders up to her ear then back down before looking away from him again.

He sensed that it made her uncomfortable so didn't push it further. "Let's talk about that some other time. How about the good?" He motioned for her to come over to him. "Come tell your nice clean little soldier what smells good about him. You can sit on my lap if you wish." He gestured to between his legs.

When she covered her mouth to smile at his proposition his heart fluttered. Lucy used to do that too, when he said something crude or suggestive, but he always knew a smile was behind the hand, and it usually meant something good. He watched her stand, a sexy saunter towards him had him clawing at the sheets. She stood in front of him, his right knee between her legs, close enough to pull at the towel and let it fall to the ground . "Tell me what good smells come from me, General," he said as he slid his hands up her legs to the swell of her behind.

"The good. You smell of Whiskey." She whimpered when he squeezed her cheek in response.

He liked this part of her body, he liked kneading the soft flesh, like a cat pawing at a cushion. He liked lifting her at this point, letting her slow movement fold around him. He let his fingertips of one hand find their way to the space between her thighs and he smiled when he noticed her knees buckle at his touch. "I guess I often have that on my personage. Whiskey is good. Whiskey kisses are better." He leaned forward and kissed the large purple bruise on her thigh. It was soft and he felt her shiver as his beard tickled the skin. "I can't make that go away but maybe-" He kissed the bruise again. "-if I give it another kiss-" He kissed it several times before finishing his sentence. "You won't notice how awful it is, or how it's sore when I rub your thigh." He led a trail of kisses from the top of the bruise to the bottom.

Her hands went into his hair and he knew that it was the right response, if he was half-hard before, then he was ready to go right now if she wanted.

"Is there something I smell of that's irresistible, you can't get enough of, that you think might be my signature scent." His grin was playful, and he couldn't help but wink when he looked up at her.

She shook her head, "Such a dirty boy."

"Not any more. I must smell of oatmeal and whatever the hell that flower is." One hand moved to her front and slipped between her legs. His fingers found her vulva and he parted her sex in a rough manner. She responded with a quiet gasp. "Is there a very good, General? Mmmm?"

Her hands continued to play running down to massage the skin beneath his beard then back up to the top of his head. "Gun oil and powder, you always smell of that, like it's-, like it's-" Her hands stopped combing through his hair and she closed her eyes and moaned when his two fingers penetrated. She fumbled and moved her hands from his head to his shoulder to balance.

MacCready laughed. "Like what General?" His thumb circled her clit as he spoke.

She opened her eyes, he could see the fog of pleasure clouding her response before it cleared and she steadied herself. "Like it's in your skin. Like every- part of you I've ever touched or kissed or sniffed. You smell of it, even now even after washing, you smell of it." She moved her face to the top of his head and inhaled.

He laughed. "Are you saying I smell like a gun? That it turns you on? That you wouldn't want that smell washed away?" MacCready removed his hand from between Molly's leg and rubbed his hands together.

She stood up straight and blinked as though coming out of a daze. "Why you little-"

"I take that it's a yes then? I smell like a gun, it turns you on and that you wouldn't want that smell washed away." He drew her in close, kissed her stomach this time, and then turned his face up to give her a cheesy grin.

She pushed him hard enough that he fell back on the bed, knees bent and feet still on the ground. She climbed on top of him and his hands went to her sides. One of his hands propped her up whilst one of hers moved down to grab his cock. With a firm grip, she slid her hand up and down grazing the tip. He could feel her finger slip over the head to play with the emanating fluid. He laughed then groaned as she squeezed.

"And what about me MacCready, what does your General smell like?"

He sat up abruptly his fingers delving down to her vulva and entering her. She gasped in response and he withdrew them just as hastily. He brought them to his nose and breathed in the musky scent.

"Mmmm the General smells like- soap, salt, yeast-" He tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips. "and slightly sour milk. Yeah that's it. Now if you want me to tell you what it tastes like that's gonna take a bit more investigation."

Molly sat astride him her mouth open wide. "You cocky little bastard. I can't believe you just did that."

He shook his head in a self-assured manner and a smug grin plastered his face. He buried his face in her chest. Her hand returned to his hair and he laughed as he kissed each of her breasts. He felt her kiss the top of his head then his forehead and he turned his face up to hers, raring to have his mouth on hers.

He placed his hands at the same part of her body where he had caressed before and lifted her on to his cock. He was surprised to find she seemed to be so light, compared with last time they made love this way. He allowed her to set the pace, a given considering he couldn't do much from this angle. He was rewarded with long moan from her mumbled into the nape of his neck. She pressed against him feverishly, rushed, as if she was desirous for them to finish. As she thrust herself on to him, he could feel her biting at the flesh of his shoulder.

He steadied then slowed her. "Woah, General, why the hurry?"

She lifted her head and sat back to look at him face to face. Her eyes were full of unfallen tears, her lip bloodied from biting it hard. A mild panic hit him and he immediately went soft within her.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean to, I-shit, sorry I-." He ran a hand through his hair as he blurted out the apology.

She shook her head with one violent movement. "No, no. Not you, not you. Me, all me," she said.

"But I-"

"No not you, lovely boy. Not you." This time he saw the tears fall and he watched helpless as she jumped off him and hurried to gather her clothes and bag together.

"You don't have to go to another little house, stay here. We- we can just sleep, you must be exhausted, I shouldn't-." He looked away from her. He shouldn't have pushed it with her. She was tired, he saw the weariness in her eyes and still, with only his selfish need in mind, he wanted to fuck her.

"Yeah I do have to go to another house." She moved and sat on the side of the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" Her lip quivered as she spoke. She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips before rubbing her hand over his face again. "Tomorrow."

He noticed a plea in her eyes, one that said she didn't want to go, that she wanted to stay. He would have let her; he would have held her all night if she'd allow it, with no demands from him. It was obvious to him that she couldn't see that side of him yet, although he could see she tried to delve deeper to dig away at him, looking for more of him than was in plain sight. Maybe he'd been too flippant with her, too jokey, too eager to fuck rather than talk. She might not have that understanding about him, that there was more to him mirrored in her plight than he let on. He hadn't told her much, about Lucy or Duncan and that was solely his doing not hers. He hadn't known whom he could trust, and he wasn't sure he was ready to show her, so he nodded and watched her leave.

He lay down, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. "MacCready, you fucking selfish little prick. Sorry Duncan, your pa done fucked up again."