"Doc Bloody Holliday!" Finn shouted as he steps into the bar from the back offices, his cane clacking into the ferrous steel deck. He smiles broadly and points at the infamous medic, nodding to Johnny the barkeep.
"Now tha' one, 'e don't pay fer nuthin', lad. Ye put his whole crew's bill on my tab, aye Johnny-boy?" Tim approaches the Doctor, and glancing at the blurring cards, offers his hand to the man.
Johhny grins and winks. "One step ahead of ya, Cap'm." he replies, and slides a frothing flagon of Invergordon Black Ale toward his boss.
"Well Mr. Holliday," Finn asks, shaking the hand of the man whose ministrations saved his life. "What brings ye 'round 'ese parts? Anything me n' mine can do, ye need but arsk. As me Maltese friends would say, me casa es su casa." He grins broadly and openly.