Oh he was such a damned gentleman.

The gunslinger was so protective of you, oh but he wouldn’t dare tell you what to wear or how to talk… You were an independent one, yes you were. In Doc’s eyes you were nothing short from absolutely fuckin’ beauty, his god damn beauty.

Doc knew you were nothing but trouble, but he fucking loved you for it. He would do anything for you, He’d kill for you—…

Well he’s done that several times.

Here in Tombstone, Arizona… Law was short and patience was even shorter. If no one ain’t seen the man die, then there was no murder. Of course, Doc used that to his advantage.

Those red sash wearing bastards, known as ‘The Cowboys’ were nothing but trouble. Vulgar, nasty men is what they are. Killing just for fun, being dicks just cause they can… Doc didn’t like that one bit. Especially since they targeted lil ol’ you the majority of the time.

Cat calls, whistles and even going as far as trying to whip you closer with the leather they used for their horses… Oh Doc really ain’t like that.

The Cowboys knew not to fuck with Doc, however. Doc was quick, even if he was as sick as a dog. He was a loyal bastard, and he’d be damned if he let another man touch you the way only he’s supposed to.

“Darlin’.” Doc spoke, looking over at you from under the brim of his black flat brimmed cowboy hat. “You outta think these Cowboys would learn…”

He shook his head in annoyance, flicking the rolled cigarette into a makeshift ashtray before walking over to you, “They outside, lookin’ for ya.”

Of course they were.

“Gimme the word, Darlin’… I’ll kill ‘em.” He muttered, bringing your hand to his lips to press delicate kisses to your knuckles. “I’ll kill em…”