scurlock | oom: for will

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oom: for will

The hotel room is pretty empty, and small, but Doc doesn't care. All his stuff is in Milliways anyways. They walk out of the door and into the hotel room itself. Once he closes the door to the bar, he opens it again and the hallway is visible.

There's piano music filtering up from the lobby saloon, conversation. It's a pretty busy hotel, given the sounds.

"C'mon. I know some crap saloons on the far side of town, get a few drinks, see if there ain't anyone we can steal from or somethin'. Before the fightin'."

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"You've gotta time it right. You go too late in the season, you'll get caught in the snow at the end. You go too early in the season, you'l get caught in the rains come spring. You can't go dead in the middle, cause it's too hot," he explains, as they walk. "You get prospectors headin' out to the hills to look for gold. Families lookin' to homestead out on the prairies, start farms. Land's cheap, if you know where to get it."

"Dinna think anywhere in England 'as cheap land or land that's na owned by someone."

"Hell, if you ever wanted to relocate..."

Doc shrugs and smirks a little, he knows that's such a bullshit idea, but he's in a weird mood. Liberty's a pretty good sized little town, but the farther away from the city center (and the closer they get to the brothels) the 'better' the bars get.

He hears a woman calling down to them from up in a window.

"You boys lookin' for a good time?"

Doc glances up and tips his hat respectfully. "Evenin', ma'am."

"Ye might find yerself some land for ye an Kate."

Will tips his hat too and rests his hand on his knife since it feels more dangerous here and grins.

Doc slows the walk a little bit. "I'm shit at farming, but I wouldn't be able to lie and tell you that I wasn't thinkin' about that idea. Eventually, you know?"

They continue on.

"We were talkin' 'bout runnin' off together, the other night."

"Breed 'orses then an cattle, dinna 'ave to farm. Good for ye, might make ye both 'appy."

"She likes the idea," he admits. "Just ain't sure how practical it would be. She's got her students, back in Green Lake and all."

"'rhaps na now, but ye could find a way, sure o'it."

"Someday, maybe." Doc smiles a little, a private smile. "I hope so. I really do."

There's a saloon around the corner that's loud, poker games being played, someone going on the piano, conversation and cigars and cigarettes, and whores downstairs at the tables with their gentleman suitors.

Doc grins.

"Perfect. Let me buy you a drink."

"Oh aye, 'rhaps lighten a few purses while we're at it."

"Gotta find you a gun."

Doc makes his way up to the bar and tips his hat off, letting the cord keep it around his neck, and runs a hand through his hair as he leans against the bar.

"Two whiskeys."

The bartender pours two glasses and Doc drops a few coins on the counter, and nods his thanks before he hands one to Will and looks around.

Will takes the whiskey and copies Doc's motion with the hat, its a bit like what he'd do with a cloak and his eyes move over the weapons around,

"Could take most o'these men I think an canna be any 'arder to take a gun than a purse."

"One thing you never do is grab a man's gun," he says, shaking his head, as he pulls his holster around a bit on his hips to bring the gun to the front. "Y'see, it's got a loop here, goes over the hammer like so, keeps it from fallin' out when you're ridin' and such. Most gunhands know the weight of that iron at their side."

Doc drinks a sip of whiskey and considers.

"Find someone drunk enough, make them look like a fool, they'll start the argument, make it look like their fault..."

"Oh aye, can see that. Good at playin' like an ass if ye'll show me who to fool into thinkin' I'm na worth fearin'."

"You are a tricky sonuvabitch," Doc says, cheerfully. It's a compliment.

"Let me think on it a minute. Gotta watch folk, and hell, ain't like I'm in a hurry."

"Nay, got whiskey to be drinkin'."

One of the women wonders over to them and gives a slow smile,

"You boys looking for company tonight?"

"Might be, later on," he says, easily opening one arm to pull the woman closer to him, his hand resting on her waist. "Not quite sure 'bout that yet, though."

A pause.

"Buy you a drink, darlin'?"

Will shifts his smile so he looks a bit younger and greener,

"Just got 'ere, ma'am, been travelin' from England. Goin' to be a cowboy."

The woman is more interested in Will's exotic (!!) accent than Doc's offer of a drink, so she slides up beside him instead.

"That so?"

"Oh aye, me friend 'ere's goin' to find me an outfit. Aye, Jo?"

His hand rest gently on the woman's hip and he nods to the bartender for another drink.

"Lookin' to be line riders," he continues.

The woman gives them both an evaluating sort of look over, and accepts her drink when it's given, murmuring her thanks and flitting her eyelashes at Will with a smile. "Mmm, that's hard work."

Doc smiles. "Ain't 'fraid of hard work, now, what kind of cowboys would be be if we were?"

"Aye, ma'am, done a lot work in Nottingham with me Da but just isna 'nough. Came out 'ere an goin' to get me some land."

Will reaches out to tuck some hair behind her ear,

"So tell me, what's best way to enjoy yerself in Liberty?"

"Well, now that," she replies, trailing a fingertip along the center of his chest. "Is entirely up to you, of course. What's your name?"

She sips at her drink.

Doc just smiles at the two of them, knowing he won't let her go too far, and his eyes are focused on the room (and the men focused on them). A few are paying close attention.

"I'm Will, ma'am."

Oh Will won't let her and he's quite aware of the eyes and thinks about Kate kissing him in Sherwood so he can blush properly. One of the men who's been gambling, drinking and losing calls out,

"Leave that greenhorn alone, Polly an come back o'er here."

Doc just laughs.

"The lady can choose who she wants to be entertained by," he says. "Apparently y'weren't doin' a good enough job of it." He's teasing, of course. But it won't come across as such.

Polly smiles at her other 'gentleman' and winks. "There's plenty to go around, handsome, but this one," she purrs. "Is beatin' you, right now."

Who said whores just laid back and let the men do all the talkin'?

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