He shifts himself in the chair, settling his gunbelt on his hips - he's taken to wearing it around the bar again, getting used to the weight and the feel of the leather and iron.
"Not quite sure yet. If I keep doing this I'd head North up towards Colorado, get word spread up that way. Been lookin' for something else to do, though, so might not be goin' that way at all."
He caps the hightlighter and sets it on the table, turning his full attention to Doc.
"How 'bout you? Where have you been an' goin' to?"
In most ways Doc would always be a Regulator in Billy's mind, but a part of him could see Doc settling down. Selfishly Billy had hopes that Doc never would, but after what he did to Doc and the boys Billy wouldn't dare interfere in Doc's life like that again.
He already took away Doc's chance at a family life once, no way in hell was he going to do it again.
Unless, of course, he thought that maybe there was possibility that wasn't the life Doc was looking for.
Doc really doesn't have much hope for a family life again. Not after the way Kate brushed him off when he tried to see her - after she'd been gone for months without warning.
"I was thinkin' on it," he says. "But I don't know. I ain't really the settlin' sort."
The light dances in Billy's eyes again and he nods.
"Yeah, I ain't really the settlin' sort myself. Been lookin' into new opportunities. The war's over, I'm dead, I figure it's time to start somethin' new."
Doc refrains from the 'where the hell you been', and simply settles down at the table with his friend, without invitation.
He doesn't need one, as far as he's concerned.
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"Markin' the places I been."
By the yellow, he's covered quite a bit of ground. Two places probably stand out as unmarked, Lincoln and Fort Sumner.
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He shifts himself in the chair, settling his gunbelt on his hips - he's taken to wearing it around the bar again, getting used to the weight and the feel of the leather and iron.
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"Not quite sure yet. If I keep doing this I'd head North up towards Colorado, get word spread up that way. Been lookin' for something else to do, though, so might not be goin' that way at all."
He caps the hightlighter and sets it on the table, turning his full attention to Doc.
"How 'bout you? Where have you been an' goin' to?"
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He shrugs, as well.
"Not really doin' for much at the moment. Just ridin'."
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He adjusts in his own chair and when Doc mentions he isn't doing anything something lights up in Billy's eyes.
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"Dusty, at the moment," he admits, smirking slightly. "I'm almost to the border, thinkin' perhaps 'bout headin' a bit north myself. Lookin' for work."
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Something flickers across his expression when he thinks about Mexico, but it's only there an instant and then gone.
Before really giving Doc a chance to answer Billy switches to another question.
"What kinda work you have in mind?"
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Not after what happened the last time they tried that adventure.
Doc braces a foot against the floor, tips back a bit in his chair.
"Maybe doin' some work with horses," he says. "Little bit of property, if I git lucky 'nough. Not sure, really."
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In most ways Doc would always be a Regulator in Billy's mind, but a part of him could see Doc settling down. Selfishly Billy had hopes that Doc never would, but after what he did to Doc and the boys Billy wouldn't dare interfere in Doc's life like that again.
He already took away Doc's chance at a family life once, no way in hell was he going to do it again.
Unless, of course, he thought that maybe there was possibility that wasn't the life Doc was looking for.
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"I was thinkin' on it," he says. "But I don't know. I ain't really the settlin' sort."
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"Yeah, I ain't really the settlin' sort myself. Been lookin' into new opportunities. The war's over, I'm dead, I figure it's time to start somethin' new."
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"And y'got any prospects on that front?"
He lifts his eyes to meet Billy's - and that spark his back, light against the grey-green flint.
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"No prospects yet, but I've got ideas. Not much for cattle russlin' anymore, been thinkin' 'bout bigger scores an' thrills."
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Doc reaches into his vest pocket for his cigarettes.
"S'dusty."
He can think of a lot of things that are a lot less dusty, that can earn them a lot more money.
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Nevermind that his horse out in the stables now is stolen.
"I figure there's plenty of other ways capable men like us can make a livin' out in the West."
It's never occured to him to look into the legal ways they could do it, of course.
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