Faraday glares at Vasquez for the dodge. It's irritating that it's true, and if Faraday wants to call him on avoiding answering the question, he doesn't have much of a leg to stand on.

He sees the flush on Vasquez's cheeks, but he assumes it's merely Vasquez reflecting that same irritation back at him, anger making color rise on his skin. He had known riding out with Vasquez was going to be a bit of a trial – both of them unused to the company as they are – and he had known the both of them would have secrets, given the lives they led. What he didn't realize was that these odd walls between them would be goddamn vexing.

Huffing out an exasperated sigh, Faraday shakes his head sharply.

"Fine," and it's not quite a concession, but it is, at least, a signal that he's sick of this conversation. "Fine. Guess I'm done askin' you, then."