Most women are lovely in their way and Vasquez isn't a woman, Mad Sweeney understands that, but he's in the body of one at the moment and Sweeney plans on enjoying that exactly as he would otherwise. His hand glides up the inside of Vasquez's thigh, his fingers pressing gently, exploring. He's warm and wet and Sweeney stifles a groan against his skin.

Then he flexes his hand and presses one large finger inside of Vasquez, lifting his head to watch his reaction. The body is new, after all, and Sweeney doesn't know what the fuck that might mean, but he doesn't want to hurt Vasquez.

Not unless he wants to be hurt.