“Just a few words,” Faraday reassures, holding up a hand in a placating gesture. He identifies that suspicion on Josiah’s face easily enough – far too many men have worn that particular look around Faraday for him to not recognize it near instantly. But there’s also an undertone of something else. Caution, maybe? Wariness?

There’s not time enough to parse it out right now, though, considering Vasquez can be back at any moment, or that Josiah could decide to chase after him or return to tending the bar. So Faraday keeps his relaxed, easy grin on his face, head tilting slightly.

“Just a few words,” he repeats, and he readjusts his hand, ticking off the words with his fingers as he goes. “Querido. Cariño. Nene. Know what they mean?”