Tea and coffee are made, handed out without fanfare. Except for Doc watching Malcolm out of the corner of his eye in case it's unexpectedly hot or he has a moment and drops it. Just because he hasn't said anything doesn't mean he hasn't noticed that there are fewer cups in the cupboard than when they had first moved in. And he doubts Raylan has been using them for target practice.

With his hand on his hip, lingering close enough to the doorframe to be unintrusive but not near enough to lean against it, he tilts his head and gives Raylan A Look.

"Enough to smack that impolite question out of your mouth," he teases. "Probably closer to 200? I haven't looked since uh... I haven't looked."