"It would be a burden I am willing to bear, getting you out of your tent," he jokes, glancing over in time to catch that wink. She has him smiling in a way he hasn't really smiled since he got here. There hasn't been a lot to smile about.
"I am in a very busy house on 1306 Phillips Drive. Raylan is a Marshal." Doc seems to like Marshals, especially the kind who gets a little feisty sometimes, if that hint of a fond little smile is anything to go by. Wynonna might be facing some... stiff competition. "Malcolm works with the New York police, and his sister Ainsley has only recently arrived, like you. Neal is also from New York, a man of many talents. He drew all this." Doc gestures at the chalk art around them. "And he can make sixty different dishes out of a can of sardines. And then there's some asshole named Negan who is some kind of post-apocalyptic cult leader." Guess who in the house gets on Doc's nerves the most?
Without an Earp to keep him tethered, he seems fully capable of finding other Suns to orbit around. But there's only one Doc Holliday to go around, and too many people he wants to protect.
"It's a bad idea to stay alone in this place, but there aren't enough beds in that house. They won't mind me taking off with you." No, they'll probably have something to say about it. And Doc isn't actually thinking about leaving permanently. But he'll make it work, somehow. He always does.
"I haven't told everyone who I am." That either makes him Batman or a prostitute. Seeing as he's Doc Holliday he's sort of a bit of both.
"Didn't seem wise, in a town full of strangers. But the house knows, except for Miss Ainsley." She'll figure it out soon enough. "A few others too." Doc finishes up with the last crack and gets up, discarding what's left of the paste in the trash bag and washing his hands in the sink.
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"I am in a very busy house on 1306 Phillips Drive. Raylan is a Marshal." Doc seems to like Marshals, especially the kind who gets a little feisty sometimes, if that hint of a fond little smile is anything to go by. Wynonna might be facing some... stiff competition. "Malcolm works with the New York police, and his sister Ainsley has only recently arrived, like you. Neal is also from New York, a man of many talents. He drew all this." Doc gestures at the chalk art around them. "And he can make sixty different dishes out of a can of sardines. And then there's some asshole named Negan who is some kind of post-apocalyptic cult leader." Guess who in the house gets on Doc's nerves the most?
Without an Earp to keep him tethered, he seems fully capable of finding other Suns to orbit around. But there's only one Doc Holliday to go around, and too many people he wants to protect.
"It's a bad idea to stay alone in this place, but there aren't enough beds in that house. They won't mind me taking off with you." No, they'll probably have something to say about it. And Doc isn't actually thinking about leaving permanently. But he'll make it work, somehow. He always does.
"I haven't told everyone who I am." That either makes him Batman or a prostitute. Seeing as he's Doc Holliday he's sort of a bit of both.
"Didn't seem wise, in a town full of strangers. But the house knows, except for Miss Ainsley." She'll figure it out soon enough. "A few others too." Doc finishes up with the last crack and gets up, discarding what's left of the paste in the trash bag and washing his hands in the sink.
"Come on. Let's go before you drink us dry."