Vasquez is correct, of course, that the young woman who spots them is the infamous Henrietta. Faraday, for his part, seems to notice her at just the same moment, and he flashes her his customary crooked smile, all easy charm and confidence. Faraday is about to offer to introduce Vasquez to her (still thinking that the other man's strange mood is for the lack of feminine company), but Vasquez mutters something. A swear, Faraday's pretty sure – and it would figure he would only pick up the insults and the curses.
But before Faraday can ask what the matter is, he sees the way Vasquez's attitude shifts, the way he seems completely at ease in a way Faraday hasn't seen since Rose Creek. It suits him, he abruptly thinks, words stopping up for a second in his throat, and when Vasquez directs him to a table, Faraday forgets to commend him for it.
But he's not so far gone, at least, that he's forgotten that $500 reward for Vasquez's head. He's mindful of the patrons of the saloon, scanning the room casually enough – something well-practiced, considering he was more than used to watching his own back. Not too difficult, keeping an eye on Vasquez on top of it. When Vasquez leans against the bar, Henrietta just so happens to saunter her way over, smiling in that pretty way that Faraday remembers from yesterday.
"Back so soon?" she asks, and her hand trails along the back of his shoulders as she moves around his chair. "Thought you were movin' along to the next town?"
"Change of plans," Faraday says, shrugging. His gaze darts over to Vasquez, to the way he seems so familiar with the barkeep, and Faraday feels a bitter curl in his gut. It's an abrupt, strange sort of thing that he quickly shakes off, looking back to Henrietta. "Seemed a serendipitous turn of events, seein' as how I get to see you again."
Henrietta laughs, something light and musical like bells. Her hands smooth down his upper arms, as she leans against his back, whispering in his ear, "Flatterer."
A table calls for the saloon girl's attention, though, and she straightens slowly, giving them a light wave to signal her return. She promises Faraday she'll be back soon with a quick peck on his cheek, leaving a faint red mark. After that, she returns to the table of revelers, and Faraday refocuses on Vasquez at the bar.
(He doesn't realize it, but he's frowning a little sourly.)
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But before Faraday can ask what the matter is, he sees the way Vasquez's attitude shifts, the way he seems completely at ease in a way Faraday hasn't seen since Rose Creek. It suits him, he abruptly thinks, words stopping up for a second in his throat, and when Vasquez directs him to a table, Faraday forgets to commend him for it.
But he's not so far gone, at least, that he's forgotten that $500 reward for Vasquez's head. He's mindful of the patrons of the saloon, scanning the room casually enough – something well-practiced, considering he was more than used to watching his own back. Not too difficult, keeping an eye on Vasquez on top of it. When Vasquez leans against the bar, Henrietta just so happens to saunter her way over, smiling in that pretty way that Faraday remembers from yesterday.
"Back so soon?" she asks, and her hand trails along the back of his shoulders as she moves around his chair. "Thought you were movin' along to the next town?"
"Change of plans," Faraday says, shrugging. His gaze darts over to Vasquez, to the way he seems so familiar with the barkeep, and Faraday feels a bitter curl in his gut. It's an abrupt, strange sort of thing that he quickly shakes off, looking back to Henrietta. "Seemed a serendipitous turn of events, seein' as how I get to see you again."
Henrietta laughs, something light and musical like bells. Her hands smooth down his upper arms, as she leans against his back, whispering in his ear, "Flatterer."
A table calls for the saloon girl's attention, though, and she straightens slowly, giving them a light wave to signal her return. She promises Faraday she'll be back soon with a quick peck on his cheek, leaving a faint red mark. After that, she returns to the table of revelers, and Faraday refocuses on Vasquez at the bar.
(He doesn't realize it, but he's frowning a little sourly.)