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It had been a long time since he visited Crete, a visit in which he was never noticed. It hadn't changed much. Doc disembarked from the shuttle which now sat on a landing pad. He refused a security detail saying that for whatever reason, he felt safe on Crete. The truth was, Doc was a mess and was doing a poor job hiding it.
Miguel Sephardi was an old friend and one he missed. The invite from Elder Buonocore was one he took honor in since it was at an estate bearing his friend's name. Doc wasn't sure what to say to his host or how he would hold up. A man recently engaged would normally be a very happy man. He was withdrawn and was looking for something to uplift him. Was this it? He hoped so.
He entered the estate in his gambler's attire with a cape, his pistols present, his right pistol at his left front, his left in a chest holster. At the door, he offered them up but oddly enough, they weren't taken. Considering the firepower around him, he wasn't a threat and right about now, he wasn't there for a fight.
Before he approached the elders, he stopped at the bar. "Scotch, Senor." It was no secret to anyone that it was his drink of choice. He then approached Elder Buonocore.
"Hola, Senor. Buenos dias," he greeted as he extended his right hand, "Gracias for the invite." When they finished shaking hands, Doc looked around at the estate and nodded.
"A fine establishment, Sir," he said kindly.
He then paused, thought a moment and sighed, "God I will miss Tombstone." He raised his glass and took a drink to Tombstone.
He then acknowledged each of the guests, tipping his hat to Flora before addressing the Elder.
"So what do I owe the honor to, Senor?"