Vasquez snorts, a huff of derisive breath at the comment about the horse, because Faraday got into this whole mess because he'd been too drunk to notice that a tiny man had bought his horse from him. "He won't have to try very hard if you keep drinking," he says, but then, against his actions, he makes a noise like he's just remembered something, lifting himself to one side as he pries out the flask that he's been smuggling into the room. With one check over his shoulder, he makes sure that no doctor or disapproving parties are lingering (Jack), before tossing it at Faraday, conveniently missing his head with an easy toss that lands the flask at his hip.
He keeps working his cigar, sliding the chair forward enough that he's close. If Faraday wants to deal the cards, he'll be there, but right now, his attention is fixed on the movement and steadiness of those fingers. He's dreamed a lot about them, which Vasquez has been interpreting as some misguided relief that Faraday is all right, because dreaming them for others reasons...
Well, it wouldn't be the first time, but it would be the most lethal for him.
"Sam is a bounty hunter," Vasquez replies, finally, to Faraday's direct question, because he's not sure what he wants to do. Going back to living with corpses, alone and tense, wary about everyone he meets, that's no life. Still, he also doesn't know what he'd do if he actually had to bear responsibility for someone else. What happens if he lets someone in and they get hurt, killed, because of the bounty on his head. He moves forward to reach for the cards, resting a hand over the top of them to still Faraday's movement.
(If his fingers just so happen to brush steadily and firmly against Faraday's, that's his own business)
"You, though," he says, trying to get his attention. "You're the one hurt, injured, weak," he can't help the smug little addition, like he's trying to get a rise out of Faraday. "Sam could be good protection, especially if you keep cheating people out of money," he says, adding a wink to that because the implication that Faraday could win on his own merits is a true one, but one Vasquez chooses to conveniently ignore right now.
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He keeps working his cigar, sliding the chair forward enough that he's close. If Faraday wants to deal the cards, he'll be there, but right now, his attention is fixed on the movement and steadiness of those fingers. He's dreamed a lot about them, which Vasquez has been interpreting as some misguided relief that Faraday is all right, because dreaming them for others reasons...
Well, it wouldn't be the first time, but it would be the most lethal for him.
"Sam is a bounty hunter," Vasquez replies, finally, to Faraday's direct question, because he's not sure what he wants to do. Going back to living with corpses, alone and tense, wary about everyone he meets, that's no life. Still, he also doesn't know what he'd do if he actually had to bear responsibility for someone else. What happens if he lets someone in and they get hurt, killed, because of the bounty on his head. He moves forward to reach for the cards, resting a hand over the top of them to still Faraday's movement.
(If his fingers just so happen to brush steadily and firmly against Faraday's, that's his own business)
"You, though," he says, trying to get his attention. "You're the one hurt, injured, weak," he can't help the smug little addition, like he's trying to get a rise out of Faraday. "Sam could be good protection, especially if you keep cheating people out of money," he says, adding a wink to that because the implication that Faraday could win on his own merits is a true one, but one Vasquez chooses to conveniently ignore right now.