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

[ 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?

[ 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.

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. ]

[ 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. ]

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.

What misfortune for you, guero.

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

Another round?

[ 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.

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

[ 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.

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.

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. ]

[ 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?

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.

[ Faraday makes a good point, as he occasionally is wont to do, and Vasquez gives his partner's words legitimate consideration. ]

At least worth mentioning, then. He maybe didn't know me before, but that's more of a risk now.

[ Faraday lets out an agreeing hum as he takes a sip from his glass. ]

Could also be that he was too sauced by the end of that party to remember much of anything, but it won't hurt nothin' to avoid temptin' fate.

'Sides. Maybe you'll luck out and Sam'll stop sendin' you to those fancy gigs.

And then he’ll be sending you alone, eh?

[ He snorts as he lifts his glass, once again only downing half of the double shot. The tequila burns on his lips, and he sighs with contentment as he looks up at Faraday again. ]

Sounds like the short straw for you, guerito.

[ Faraday feigns a thoughtful look, gaze cast toward the ceiling. ]

A job where I don't gotta put up with your constant nonsense?

[ He frowns a little, jaw working to one side and eyes narrowing, then, ]

I dunno, Vas. That almost sounds too good to be true.

You say that, but I think maybe that nonsense is the only thing keeping you sane when you go rub elbows with those capullos.

[ But he pauses, reaching up to rub at his jaw as he adopts a faux thoughtfulness. ]

Or maybe instead it would make it easier for you to seduce your way through them, no? No one in your ear while you try to whisper your sweet nothings in theirs.

[ And his teasing grin is back just before he downs the second half of his shot. ]

[ Well, Faraday may not know a lot of Spanish, but the insults, apparently, he understands easily. It's why the observation draws out a quick, reluctant smile – reluctant, because Faraday tries his best to not let the other man know when he's hit the nail on the head.

The rest of it, though, earns a snort. ]

Oh, yeah, sure. [ Brightly, facetiously. ] If it weren't for you attached to my hip, I coulda just flirted my way through every guest and guard till I got to the prize.

[ Vasquez breathes past the bite of alcohol on his lips, offering a hum of agreement – though his sarcasm is only too obvious. ]

Exactly so. What guard can resist the world’s greatest lover?

Scoff all you want, but I don't recall you makin' any complaints.

[ The response is quick, thoughtless.

And he regrets it the instant the words have left his mouth. He freezes for a heartbeat before quickly downing a mouthful of his whiskey, just to shut himself up. ]

[ ... It's probably a good thing Vasquez already finished his tequila, because otherwise he might have choked on it. He still looks startled, if only because that's the first actual reference either of them has made to the... incident.

Vasquez clears his throat, rubbing his hand across his scruffy chin. ]

Well. There was nothing you were trying to get out of me, so that probably doesn't count as "flirting your way through."

Yeah.

[ He says it mildly, focusing on the glass in his hand, on the table in front of him – anywhere but Vasquez.

Absently, he rubs at his neck, right over the marks Vasquez had left the other night, before he straightens in his seat, moving back out of Vasquez's space. ]

Anyway. [ He nods towards Vasquez's empty glass. ] You want another drink?

[ Faraday may be avoiding Vasquez, but Vasquez watches Faraday's fidgeting, his eyes drawn to the marks still standing out starkly on Faraday's skin.

Fuck.

He refocuses when Faraday moves, when he speaks, and Vasquez just nods. ]

Si. As long as it's on you, guero.

I'm a man of my word, aren't I?

[ He drains the last of his whiskey before getting to his feet.

It's a tactical retreat, he tells himself. A moment to buy himself time to recompose himself, to figure out another topic to distract the two of them from this line of conversation.

Or maybe Faraday is making a mountain out of a molehill. There's a very real possibility that Vasquez saw the entire situation as a way of blowing off steam, and that Faraday is, uncharacteristically, taking things too seriously.

The bartender is ready for him before he even reaches the counter, and he plucks up the two new drinks with a quick, grateful nod. She casts him an amused look, tells him that the two of them ought to consider slowing down a little.

Faraday just smiles and shrugs.

He returns, setting the drinks down and sliding back into his seat. ]

Jenny suggests we be kinder to our livers.

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

big mood

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