[Will is very accustomed to doctors, though his standards for what makes a good doctor are slightly different than most as the majority of doctors he deals with are psychiatrists. The good ones don't use their power to destroy lives or take too much interest in him and his pure empathy (Alana) and the bad ones are...well, they run the gamut from true monsters (Hannibal) to the lesser ones (Chilton) to simply anyone who finds out what Will uses his empathy for and thinks he should be some case study. He's generally on edge, in one way or another, around them, and for a moment, when Wells starts speaking about everyone as an undoubtedly learned man, Will bristles. Looks at him with furrowed brow, borderline incredulous. But no, Wells isn't into the psychiatric, is he? And he doesn't know about Will's issues enough for anything too doctor-y to actually be a threat, as far as Will knows.

But damn if there isn't a moment where it looks like Will is almost offended. His mind goes quickly to its own better place, applies a balm, and Will looks at his bar fries like a man who knows he should eat but currently finds that a bit of a problem.]

More gifts would be fine, it's...getting one wrapped in Happy Birthday paper but saying Merry Christmas instead. Not that I'm torn up about it, that was reserved for the teenage years. [And not even for very long, if that wrinkle of his nose is anything to go by. Growing up poor did its number on Will before he could get too much of a big head about what was and what was not just owed him.] You're expecting to still be here for the holidays?

[That's refreshing. Unexpected. Will's clearly accepted that he has a place in this world and hopes it to be a longstanding one. Not the same with many others. Finding someone who isn't eager to talk about they'll have figured the Porter out by the holidays and get the hell out of here is...well, nice.

Not nice enough for him to eat his bar fries, though. Taking a drink? Hell yeah.]