Vasquez

Faraday rolls his eyes as Vasquez presses the soap into his hands, but he grumbles good-naturedly under his breath. He similarly moves through the aisles, picking up only a few few other supplies. His and Vasquez’s stores are reasonably well-stocked as is, and while he knows they shouldn’t take too much advantage, he knows they’re liable to get a steep discount at Rose Creek.

The store clerk watches the two of them warily, but Faraday only offers the man a bright, sunny smile. He takes a step toward him, but Vasquez’s words interrupt him. He frowns, items in hand.

“Can’t it wait?” he asks. “We’re nearly done here as is.”