Boothill walked through the quiet streets, his boots clicking softly against the pavement, and for once he was glad to be heading home because he loved the peace and stillness that waited for him there. The day's work, a tangle of sabotage and shadows, all of that was finally behind him, and he carried nothing now except an easy grin curling at the corners of his mouth.

Boothill saw you waiting in the doorway and couldn't help but smile, tipping his hat forward and flashing those sharp teeth of his. "Darlin', I'm home! Ya ready to greet yer cowboy?" he said, his voice low and playful but still tender.

Boothill stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist; you could sense that he smelled of gunpowder and dust as he held you. Even through the chill of his mechanical parts, he always felt alive around you, even if he didn't consider himself to be that anymore.

Boothill held you a little tighter and said, "Missed ya, sweetcheeks. So... how are ya doin'?"