Watching as he is, Faraday sees the way Vasquez goes rigid, seized up like some sort of statue, and he files the bit of information away, once again, as Vasquez seems to recover.
He snorts out a derisive laugh when Vasquez brings up the bet again, and Faraday shakes his head, disbelieving.
"I don't recall agreein' to that wager," he says easily, though the peculiar argument sharpens his tone. Add in the sleepless night and the lingering ache of his wounds, Faraday hardly seems to be in the best of moods.
Once his leg has recovered enough from Vasquez's attentions, he moves to stand, a touch unsteadily, but he stays on his feet. He goes back to moving, testing the wound, trying to see if it'll deign to hold his weight. He's a little steadier than earlier, at least, his steps slightly more sure, thanks to Vasquez's help (though he'll never admit it).
"Play your game, if you like. Don't mean I gotta play along."
no subject
He snorts out a derisive laugh when Vasquez brings up the bet again, and Faraday shakes his head, disbelieving.
"I don't recall agreein' to that wager," he says easily, though the peculiar argument sharpens his tone. Add in the sleepless night and the lingering ache of his wounds, Faraday hardly seems to be in the best of moods.
Once his leg has recovered enough from Vasquez's attentions, he moves to stand, a touch unsteadily, but he stays on his feet. He goes back to moving, testing the wound, trying to see if it'll deign to hold his weight. He's a little steadier than earlier, at least, his steps slightly more sure, thanks to Vasquez's help (though he'll never admit it).
"Play your game, if you like. Don't mean I gotta play along."