Date: 2017-08-08 08:02 pm (UTC)
peacemakers: (005)
From: [personal profile] peacemakers
Faraday frowns all the more as Vasquez offers his little demonstration. The way the other man spun his guns tended to be hypnotic, smooth in a way that Faraday sometimes envied (though never aloud), but watching him now shows the lasting effects of Vasquez’s wound from the battle. On reflex, Faraday smooths his hand over his right bicep, feeling for the knotted scar tissue where a bullet had torn through during his charge toward the Gatling gun, leaving his right arm weaker than his left.

The realization hits him, then, that if the two of them truly set out together, they’ll be shoring up the weaknesses of the other. Faraday huffs out a laugh. “We’re gonna make one hell of a pair,” he murmurs.

Truth to tell, Faraday barely remembers the afternoon that he and Vasquez met, caught in a whiskey haze as he was. The story may be a bit exaggerated on Vasquez’s part, but considering the sort of trouble Faraday tends to get into when he’s been at the bottles, he fully believes every word. It earns another laugh, and he tilts his head to one side as he puts on his trademark roguish, crooked grin.

“And aren’t you glad you listened to him?” he teases. “Imagine how less full your life would’ve felt without my sparkling wit. You owe the man a gift for the word of warnin’.”
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Vasquez

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