"I've done my fair share," Wynonna replies matter of fact, punctuating that with a dot from the cap of her bottle before she unscrews it and takes another drink. Fact is, she has done over and above her fair share of pulling down walls to look for things in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word.

She stops at the reception desk and turns to half sit on the front ledge of it, giving him a proper once over. He was definitely good-looking, but then she was half corked and there was that truth that everyone turned hotter after a few drinks.

"Actually, it's usually two or three holding cells," she says, offering up a smug but sweet smile. Wynonna points to herself. "I'm small town. I also know that from first-hand experience. On both sides.. god that's still so weird saying out loud."