InsaneJournal

It hadn't been long before they'd gotten far enough away from the Carnival, and the Museum, that the laughing and er.. other side effects had sort of become less noticeable.  But the pair had slowly made their way towards the side of the town, to the Post Office and the Clock Tower not far from it. That was when they had finally slowed down enough to sink onto a bench not far from the Clock Tower, so that they could see the Post Office across the way. And while Gambit had leaned back bonelessly into the green bench for a little relaxation, he noticed that the Doctor had begun prattling on in his journal. The Cajun had watched for a few moments, before finally sitting forward and flipping open his own journal to follow the progression of the discussion.

And there, on that bench, the two men in matching coats (Remy just loved your coat, Doctor, thanks) sat and stared into the books in their laps, with Gambit laughing every once in a while (he couldn't help it), or looking around curiously for food, or even swatting at a pegasus that was flying around his head. But strangely enough, he really wasn't that chatty.. yet. That would take longer to seep in, and it first came in the form of writing, where he began jotting down notes in his book, too-- his smile becoming wider as time went on. Then he was laughing. But it wasn't the gas.

Sorry, Doctor.