you had jesus on your breath (and i caught him in mine)

[vaqueros]

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[peacemakers]

[ He sips at his whiskey, taking his time with it – the decent stuff needs to be appreciated. This stuff has absolutely nothing on what Statesman produces, obviously, but it'll have to do. ]

I suppose I oughta be grateful that we didn't wreck the package before we could deliver it. Seems like something worth celebratin'.

[vaqueros]

I doubt we would be here to share a drink, if we had.

[ Considering the package in question was a toxic gas.

Wrecking that probably would have meant an untimely death for the both of them. ]

We kicked up no fuss, barely made any mess... [ Vasquez shrugs. ] Better than usual, no?

[peacemakers]

[ He hums as he's taking another sip, expression twisted into something like mild distaste. ]

Shouldn't make a habit of things goin' so smoothly. We've got a reputation to uphold.

[vaqueros]

Mm, Sam might start giving us the boring things instead.

[ He grins lazily at Faraday. ]

Diplomacy.

[peacemakers]

Oh, Jesus.

[ And he utters it like Vasquez just damned them to the darkest, coldest reaches of hell. ]

Don't even joke about that.

[vaqueros]

[ Vasquez makes a quick show of crossing himself – pressing three fingers to his forehead, chest, and both shoulders – like that will banish the potential for cursing their luck. ]

Lo siento, guerito.

[ ... He doesn't sound very sorry, just because something about the idea of the two of them being sent out for strictly political missions is hilarious to him. ]

At least it would mean you spend more time looking good in a suit.

[peacemakers]

[ He snorts out a derisive laugh, leaning back in his seat. Thoughtlessly, he stretches out his legs, eating up some of Vasquez's space across from him – a bad habit, admittedly, but one he's easily fallen into over the years, and one that only seems to crop up when Vasquez is involved. ]

Sure. I'll just stand there and look pretty and foreboding, and you can do all the talkin'.

[vaqueros]

[ It says a lot about his relationship with Faraday that Vasquez doesn't bristle or try to move away. Instead, he knocks his boot against Faraday's ankle – almost affectionate, by any other standards. ]

Why would I do that when you like the sound of your own voice so much?

[peacemakers]

[ He hums agreeably, bringing his drink up to his lips again. ]

I do have a mellifluous voice.

[ Never mind that Vasquez likely meant that as an insult to his vanity. Faraday seems to know it, too, judging by the way he hides his smirk behind his glass. ]

You didn't do half bad, back there.

[ "Back there," meaning their most recent job. ]

You had Maximiliano handled well enough.

[vaqueros]

[ It's easy to discern Faraday's meaning, given how long they've worked together, though the mention of Maximiliano draws a small wrinkle to Vasquez's brow, some of the easy cheer falling away. ]

Only because of good luck.

[ A moment of hesitation, as he shifts his glass back and forth over the wooden table. ]

I thought maybe he recognized me.

[peacemakers]

[ Faraday's head tilts a little, eyes narrowing and the corners of his mouth turning downward.

Given everything that happened, Faraday had nearly forgotten about that slight misstep in the cigar room, about Vasquez's promise to talk shit out later. Vasquez had been shaken up after Maximiliano had found them, that much Faraday could tell, but there hadn't been time to discuss it.

There's time now, though. And, a little selfishly, Faraday leaps at the chance to talk about this rather than the other topic that sorely needs discussing. ]

That's why you were so rattled?

[vaqueros]

[ Vasquez offers a short nod. ]

My accent – I don't usually bother with it, unless I need to sound American. We've never been put somewhere I thought anyone would be able to place where I'm from.

[ After a moment of hesitation, he throws back the rest of his tequila, exhaling on a short, rough breath. He leans forward on his elbows, a slightly tenser set to his shoulders. ]

But the cartels in Columbia? They work very much with the ones in Mexico.

[peacemakers]

[ Faraday straightens at that, a little surprised, but mostly intrigued.

Very few of the agents in the California branch tend to talk about their lives before becoming Statesman agents – partially because joining up meant putting their old lives away, and partially because, Faraday thinks, most of them would much rather forget everything that came before.

Faraday knows some broad strokes, though, mostly thanks to plying the others with booze and poking and prodding until something came loose. He knows that Teddy Q was once on the track to become an agent, but when they realized he couldn't shoot worth a damn, he was quickly switched to tech. He knows that Goodnight was deployed once, a while ago, and came back a broken man, with Billy practically materializing out of the ether to pick up the pieces.

Vasquez, though, has been relatively mum. Something to do with drug cartels in Mexico, Faraday thinks, though he never pressed enough to find out.

The way Vasquez is sitting, though – slightly hunched, head bowed – tells Faraday that he was likely onto something.

It's why he feels comfortable with venturing, ]

Did your people ever work with him?

[vaqueros]

[ There's a beat of hesitation, and then Vasquez nods. ]

Often.

[ He lifts a hand in a helpless, somewhat dismissive little shrug. ]

I never met him in person, but I have no way to know if he's ever seen my face.

[peacemakers]

I suppose that depends.

[ He says it a little slowly, absently tilting his glass one way then the other to swirl his whiskey. ]

If you were just rank and file, I doubt you would've ever been on his radar. Bigwig like that, I assume he don't have much time for anyone that isn't callin' any shots.

[ Of course, that begs the question of where, exactly, Vasquez landed in the hierarchy, but Faraday still doesn't feel it's the time to press. ]

[vaqueros]

[ Vasquez hums in absent agreement. ]

Si.

[ Obviously, Maximiliano wouldn't have time for some random grunt, but Vasquez had been part of the Sinaloa Cartel since he was fifteen. It consumed nearly twenty years of his life. He wasn't top of the food chain by any means, but he had a standing there that had the potential to make him recognizable in the wrong places – which is also why Cognac doesn't send him to South America, if they can help it. ]

It doesn't matter much now; he said nothing and our cover wasn't blown.

But— [ He sighs as he runs a hand back through his messy curls before straightening up again. ] That was why I slipped.

[ It's certainly not a common occurrence on their jobs, and while Vasquez had recovered quickly, it was still more than he likes to allow himself. ]

[peacemakers]

If it's any consolation, I'm reasonably sure I'm the only one who noticed.

[ And Lord knows Faraday has surely fucked up worse on a few of his assignments, with or without Vasquez.

He also valiantly refrains from saying, I'm reasonably sure you and I have a bigger slip up to discuss.

Faraday has apparently decided he won't be the one to bring things up. ]

And I only noticed on account of hanging around you too much.

[vaqueros]

What misfortune for you, guero.

[ Vasquez manages a hint of his former broad grin, before he starts getting back to his feet. ]

Another round?

forgot to hit post comment.......

[peacemakers]

[ Faraday can't help it – he quirks an eyebrow at Vasquez, the expression caught somewhere between amused and surprised. ]

Offerin' to pay again? You're feelin' generous today.

big mood

[vaqueros]

Just the one more, and then you can get drunk on your own money.

[peacemakers]

[ He snorts out a laugh, draining the last of his whiskey in a few easy gulps. It burns a familiar line down his throat, and he sighs with it. ]

Go on, then. I'll get the round after this one.

[vaqueros]

I'm going to hold you to that, guerito.

[ And Vasquez tosses him one of those unfettered grins, before he abandons Faraday at their table.

The bartender only has to see Vasquez approaching before she starts pulling out new glasses for him and Faraday. It's routine enough by now, and he doesn't even have to ask. He offers her a grateful smile and another wink, then accepts the drinks when she slides them across the bar. ]

Gracias.

[ Drinks in hand, Vasquez returns to Faraday, plopping down the whiskey in front of his partner again. ]

And after this, no more drinking for free, for you.

[peacemakers]

I never drink for free when you're around.

[ And he casts it with the obvious implication that hanging around Vasquez is such a chore. Never mind that they naturally gravitate toward one another, even in their off hours.

Still, he accepts the drink with another nod. He's silent for a second, thinking, then, ]

Should we mention Maximilano to Sam?

[ He hadn't even appeared as a footnote in their debriefing, but Faraday is starting to think they ought to broach the topic, just in case it comes back around to bite them in the ass. ]

[vaqueros]

[ Vasquez takes his place across from Faraday, resettling and similarly eating up Faraday's space as he stretches out his legs comfortably. He lifts his glass, but pauses when his partner speaks.

Vasquez sets the drink down again, looking thoughtful. ]

You think we need to, maybe?

[peacemakers]

More up to you than me, I think.

[ He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, lifting up his glass. ]

Certainly threw you off, though. And I don't think it'd hurt to keep you out of his path. Given the caliber of the guests at that shindig, he probably already assumed you had something to do with the cartels.