For a stupid moment, he wants Faraday to put his arm around Vasquez's shoulders again to give him an excuse to touch him, but the last thing they need is people in the town looking too long and whispering other things that are liable to get them shot. Food is easy, though, because when they'd passed one of the buildings, he'd seen inside to see that the saloon was setting down plates of food for people.
He reaches out to pluck at Faraday's vest and give him a light tug, a sign to start walking. The only trouble when they reach this little place is that Vasquez sees a pretty young woman with dark hair light up as soon as they enter.
"Mierda," he mutters under his breath, and steers Faraday towards a table before Henrietta (so he assumes) can interrupt, thinking that she has a new chance. At least with their shared room, there will be no chance for Faraday to charm her back.
Speaking of charm, he remembers their little wager and while it might not be on the table, it's also still a good idea to keep people distracted. Plastering on an easygoing smile, letting the tension drain his shoulders, Vasquez thinks that an outgoing, gregarious man won't flag people as an outlaw. Running a hand through his hair, he settles Faraday at a table before he goes to lean against the bar.
The bartender (and possibly owner of this place) is a handsome young man drying glasses behind the bar, with deep blue eyes, a well-coiffed moustache, and very nice fingers. If he were completely desperate, hadn't been keeping company, he would've been a very tempting thing. Right now, to get him heaping plates of food and liquor, he might be acting friendlier than normal, leaning forward, reaching out to absently tap the man's hand to try and forge a connection, keeping the conversation light and easy.
Besides, with his back set this way, he can avoid the inevitable -- when Henrietta decides to say hello to Faraday again, something he doubts he can watch without losing his easygoing front.
no subject
He reaches out to pluck at Faraday's vest and give him a light tug, a sign to start walking. The only trouble when they reach this little place is that Vasquez sees a pretty young woman with dark hair light up as soon as they enter.
"Mierda," he mutters under his breath, and steers Faraday towards a table before Henrietta (so he assumes) can interrupt, thinking that she has a new chance. At least with their shared room, there will be no chance for Faraday to charm her back.
Speaking of charm, he remembers their little wager and while it might not be on the table, it's also still a good idea to keep people distracted. Plastering on an easygoing smile, letting the tension drain his shoulders, Vasquez thinks that an outgoing, gregarious man won't flag people as an outlaw. Running a hand through his hair, he settles Faraday at a table before he goes to lean against the bar.
The bartender (and possibly owner of this place) is a handsome young man drying glasses behind the bar, with deep blue eyes, a well-coiffed moustache, and very nice fingers. If he were completely desperate, hadn't been keeping company, he would've been a very tempting thing. Right now, to get him heaping plates of food and liquor, he might be acting friendlier than normal, leaning forward, reaching out to absently tap the man's hand to try and forge a connection, keeping the conversation light and easy.
Besides, with his back set this way, he can avoid the inevitable -- when Henrietta decides to say hello to Faraday again, something he doubts he can watch without losing his easygoing front.