Faraday's eyes narrow at that open shock on Vasquez's face, at his suggestion of moving somewhere more private. Just what was it that Vasquez was intending to do, exactly?

When Vasquez stands with obvious agitation, with his skin coloring with a sudden blush, Faraday can't help but stare at him, equal parts curious and startled. He's not sure if he's ever seen Vasquez quite like this, caught somewhere between wanting to bolt and staying put out of stubbornness. And Faraday, meanwhile, is caught between wanting to tease the other man relentlessly and keeping his gob shut.

And that's an effort for Faraday, keeping his mouth shut so he doesn't stick a foot in it, but somehow, he manages it. Still, he tucks the thoughts away for later, and carefully gets to his feet. He keeps his weight leaned to one side, his injured leg still smarting something awful if he stops favoring it, and keeps a hand on the edge of the table to help balance himself.

"Might as well head back up," he says slowly, casting the stairs a baleful glare before returning his attention to the other man. He observes Vasquez with his usual sharpshooter's stare. "Seems you don't wanna risk us runnin' into anyone, and the room upstair's about as private as we're gonna get."