He thinks maybe Mexico is going to be the place that he saves for when they're both on more comfortable footing. Right now, it still feels like there's a bridge between them and it's going to be a while before they're actually comfortable and the way it used to be. Maybe it will never go back to the way it was, he doesn't know. All that he does know is that Faraday is here, by whatever lucky chance, and Vasquez got a second chance he didn't even know he'd been praying for.
"You bitched," he agrees, but it's fond, making it clear how very little Vasquez minded. After all, what would their relationship be if Faraday didn't complain and whine most of the time? Definitely not nearly as fun.
He's already toying with the top button of his vest as he gets to his feet, leading Faraday slowly towards the bedroom, an amused look on his face that's only barely masking the hungrier one lying beneath it. He very much wants to talk about the North some more, when they're going to leave, but he also can't lie - the thought of Faraday mostly to himself for weeks here could end up stifling, but it's mostly tempting.
It's good to make up for lost time.
He pushes the door open to reveal the bed he'd poured all his frustrations and worries and guilt into. It's a large thing, big and four posters, taking up most of the room. The wood has been worked by hand (sanded and carved down) and Emma had been good enough to lend him the beddings. Even with his desire to get out of one place, he knows he's going to end up missing this bed.
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"You bitched," he agrees, but it's fond, making it clear how very little Vasquez minded. After all, what would their relationship be if Faraday didn't complain and whine most of the time? Definitely not nearly as fun.
He's already toying with the top button of his vest as he gets to his feet, leading Faraday slowly towards the bedroom, an amused look on his face that's only barely masking the hungrier one lying beneath it. He very much wants to talk about the North some more, when they're going to leave, but he also can't lie - the thought of Faraday mostly to himself for weeks here could end up stifling, but it's mostly tempting.
It's good to make up for lost time.
He pushes the door open to reveal the bed he'd poured all his frustrations and worries and guilt into. It's a large thing, big and four posters, taking up most of the room. The wood has been worked by hand (sanded and carved down) and Emma had been good enough to lend him the beddings. Even with his desire to get out of one place, he knows he's going to end up missing this bed.
"I think I deserve to be proud of this, no?"