It is fairly busy at 1306 this particular snowed in day. There are guests who need shelter from the storm. More food than they know what to do with, while the cowboys keep a small inventory in the garage as extra rations should the storm continue into the next day, and the day after that. Bedding that needs to be made should their guests be sleeping over. Gentle warnings to be issued without making light of Malcolm's struggles and trampling all over Malcolm's dignity. Lanterns that need to stay lit.
In amidst the flurry of activity, the phone rings for the first time since the fog rolled in. Doc's head whips around at the sound, like a death bell ringing through the cacophony of activity. He clenches his jaw and strides over to answer, ready to tell that voice to go to hell.
Only it's the voice of Number Five, sounding different on the phone. Maybe it carries differently over the phone cables. Maybe Five is genuinely stressed.
"Everyone is here, and we have guests. If you would like some privacy you may venture into my bedroom." Hm, maybe that gives the wrong impression. "...or the garage."
no subject
In amidst the flurry of activity, the phone rings for the first time since the fog rolled in. Doc's head whips around at the sound, like a death bell ringing through the cacophony of activity. He clenches his jaw and strides over to answer, ready to tell that voice to go to hell.
Only it's the voice of Number Five, sounding different on the phone. Maybe it carries differently over the phone cables. Maybe Five is genuinely stressed.
"Everyone is here, and we have guests. If you would like some privacy you may venture into my bedroom." Hm, maybe that gives the wrong impression. "...or the garage."