[Vegas, while being bright thinks it's better to play it simple. He likes horses better then people because horses don't judge. He doesn't like people talking about his sister or his family.

But above all that, he's lonely so he-on his days off like today-sits quietly in the saloon nursing a glass of something alcoholic. Except when he spots Toshiko there's very little that he could do to stop himself. Dressed in a white shirt and suspenders-the very image of the weorking man. He steps up and coughs.]

...Ma'am. May I buy you a drink?

Sherry had spent the day scoping out the town - making polite enquiries at the stores, chatting to anyone who didn't immediately cross themselves and hiss at a young woman travelling alone, that sort of thing - and it was feeling like this whole place was a dud. Raymond was a possibility, certainly he seemed wealthy, but word was that he was smart. Smarter than the ideal mark - young idiots who'd struck it rich by luck or the good fortune of a wealthy relative's death, men dying to throw their money at any mad scheme that presented itself - but they'd handled tougher. Just about.

Then there was Reaver. There had to be something there.

When she saw Kirk, she already knew who he was - the arrival of a US Marshal was relatively big news, and although she tended to stay away from lawkeepers for obvious reasons, he looked miserable and if she could cheer him up now he might be well-disposed to her later. She rose to her feet and made her way over to the bar.

"Another two of whatever he's having," she told the bartender, then glanced sidelong at him. "If you can stand to have a lady buy you a drink, sir."