doctor_j_crane | [55]

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[55] - [Voice]

To all you new folks in town, I'm the veterinary surgeon here. I'll fix up your animals if needs be. For a price, of course.

[Town/old people filter]

Same cost for you folks. But don't be telling the new people if I change the prices for them. They're just passing through, you can't count on them for good business. So we've all got to do what we've got to do.

[New people/outlaws and ruffians]

I'll fix you up too, if you're willing to pay. Just don't be expecting prime doctor service and I won't be expecting doctorly prices. Just don't be asking my brother about those sorts of things if you see him in town. If you do that we'll all end up with lawmen involved.

I also have a few things stronger than drink if necessary. [In case some of you have a burning desire to use horse medication or something.]

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I'd say your brother is at great risk of one than she, but I'm not the medical expert. He has the patience that the religious men of the town should envy.

[He's got enough soldiers around to wonder on it.] I do sometimes. Mostly about the canons going off at night.

He's never been very bright, that's our Robert. Good at his machines but little else.

I've heard that the thing. I met a man who said he still heard them during the day.

I think it's at night just because my dreams like to make it difficult for my body to get a full nights rest and recover its fortitude.

That must be most trying. You seen a doctor yet?

For my health, yes, but I don't see what a doctor can do about my dreams.

Perhaps he can make a recommendation. Though it'd likely be rest, something that I don't think a man such as yourself would be interested in.

Well, sometimes I fix it myself. If I'm having a bad night, I think of this girl that I fancy but I shouldn't. Nothing really tawdry or questionable, I just think of what it would be like falling asleep with my head in her lap, or with her hand on my cheek. And I keep thinking about it until I fall asleep, and I dream of her.

[This is almost the truth. If the girl were Braxton.] Or I read until my mind is too tired to care about anything else and the letters stop meaning anything.

Who's the lucky girl, then? [Om nom nom, delicious gossip.]

They seem like fair solutions, I say.

Someone I met during the war, and if the lady should pay me a visit it wouldn't be gentlemanly for me to give out her name. I wouldn't wish to threaten any vows she's taken and sully her reputation through misplaced admiration. [Being away for two years helps sometimes.]

They work better than drinking would have.

You're a gentleman at heart. She's a lucky lady.

Yes, you can't trust the drink. It's bad for the mind.

[He wishes that were true if the lady were a gent.] Someone should remind the doctor about that. I saw him at the saloon when I went the other night, and he was drinking more than before I left.

I wonder what happened to him.

I might be havin' a few words with him. A doctor needs to be havin' his wits around him.

Unless some ruffians got to him, of course.

That would be good of you, sir. As I see it the only favor he's paying us at the moment is ensuring it's more difficult for his brother to win the next election. [Someone doesn't like Mayor Narvin. He might have when he was a little boy, but he hasn't since he started coming off as too good for everyone.]

It's a disgustin' thing, when two brothers are like that.

Yes, well, do well by yours. I have no brothers and I have no prospects for marriage. I suspect my land will be passed on to family by extension. Not that I value that any less, but the feeling of knowing someone shares my blood is now a distant memory.

Edited 2011-05-19 09:46 (UTC)

I do. He may not be the brightest lad, but he's my blood.

You never know. You might find a lady.

Again, mention of your brother's intelligence coupled with the union of women ensures that I will remain picky. I'd rather spend my days alone than in perpetual misery induced by a sharp tongue and a vicious wit.

Too true. You're a man who knows what he wants. That's to be respected.

[That's surprisingly hard to hear. No one would respect him for what he thinks about. Not a bit. It's not even that bad. Not that evil. He just thinks of him as something special. In annuals that he reads, sometimes the way that the hero thinks about the woman he comes home to is the way that he thinks of that gambling womanizer.

No, besides being sinful, it's hopeless.] I'm flattered you think so. [He'll at least say that.] Tell me, have you ever admired someone you shouldn't?

Don't be flattered. It's the truth. [Pause. Such a long pause.] I have. But a man's got to know when it just ain't possible.

I don't really understand how something that can steal your breath and make your head swim can crush your chest like it does. I'll do you the favor of not asking who, but has it gotten any better over time?

No, it has not. [Sigh.] I imagine it will, eventually.

I couldn't risk my reputation, not when it might be necessary to save the town one day, but I've wondered what it would be like to steal a kiss. Just one. I believe I could survive a lifetime off a single kiss, or a lingering warm hand, fingers laced between my own.

Ah. The violence of war seems to have reduced me to romanticism.

You don't want to be doin' that. Do that to the wrong lady and her family might chase you outta town. That's not worth a kiss.

[Ooooooh he is so lucky he didn't use any pronouns there or he might have slipped up. He reminds himself to take care.] You're a learned man, sir. Have you read much about chivalry?

[55] - [Voice]

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