[ Vasquez just sips at his drink, waiting patiently for Faraday to finish his search. Unlike before, he grins instead of bolting when Faraday turns back to him. ]
I just thought it was funny how you kept getting so riled up because of it.
[ For once, Faraday doesn't escalate – mostly because he likes this bar, and the bartenders here know them well enough that they tend to be generous with their pours; he'd rather not cause any trouble with his and Vasquez's usual roughhousing.
Still, he shoots Vasquez another sour look, and maybe he's feeling a little petty, now, considering he's realized that half the team has been keeping that mundane little nickname a secret from him for shits and giggles. It's why he blurts out, ]
Now, what's that mean? Or are you just tryin' to use Spanish again to hide shit, like how you think I'm cute?
[ Vasquez is used to Faraday griping and complaining (sulking, though he probably wouldn’t actually say that to his partner’s face), so he expects much of the same. But that particular snipe knocks Vasquez’s grin right off his lips.
It— stings, even if it probably shouldn’t.
(Because it’s embarrassing. It leaves Vasquez feeling exposed when he and Faraday haven’t discussed that night they tumbled into bed together. Vasquez doesn’t know where they stand, and part of him is convinced Faraday has seen it for the mistake it probably was, so it’s better not to mention it again.
But Vasquez had slipped, and now he feels like he’s at a disadvantage. Rarely does that truly bother him with Faraday, because even when they’re competitive with each other, the stakes never feel that steep. Right now, however, the high ground looks awful high when something more personal is on display.)
The tease in his tone is gone, and his words are snapped out more than Vasquez intends. ]
[ He snorts out a derisive breath, pulling up his glass again to sip from it.
If he's honest, the comment isn't too far from the norm, even if Vasquez did spout it off in Spanish, and he's not as offended as he probably should be.
And for as much as Faraday may play the fool, he can be insightful, when he wants to be. It's why he notices how Vasquez's voice sharpens, his tone and posture becoming almost defensive, and how Vasquez only responds to half of what Faraday pointed out.
He sips at his drink for a second. Then, slowly, ]
[ Vasquez drums his fingers along the line of his glass – fidgeting, but not quite; his fingers have to tap out a rhythm or else risk clenching into a fist around something fragile.
One small tightening and tick of his jaw muscle, before, ]
And?
[ He says it expectantly, like he’s prompting Faraday for a point. He’s not evading the statement, despite the defensive response; there’s no point trying to convince Faraday that he’d misspoken or Google had turned up a mistranslation.
Better to meet Faraday with a challenge.
A familiar ”so what are you going to do about it?” provocation ].
[ Faraday forces himself to watch Vasquez's reaction, for as much as he wants to look away or similarly fidget. He's learned, over the years, to maintain a careful nonchalance, to keep himself from straying too off-course when he's trying to conceal what he's thinking or feeling.
Of course, learning doesn't always translate into applying, but he manages it, on occasion.
He sits up to lean forward with his elbows on the table.
He echoes, ]
And.
[ Though he pauses, frowning at the other man. Faraday's posture is rigid, expression tense and serious.
Jesus wept, he's not good with uncertainty, and as much as he'd much rather be the exact last person to drag this topic kicking and screaming to the surface, Faraday also hates pussyfooting around. The latter wins out, eventually.
The tension drains from him on a sharp, frustrated exhale. ]
And. We gotta figure out what the hell we're doin'.
[ Somehow, it’s reassuring when Faraday squares up with him, leaning forward, gaze stony and unreadable. It’s more familiar to Vasquez than the feeling of a stark light casting away protective shadows; he knows how to fight far more than he does to be any real kind of vulnerable.
And then all of that tension just leaves like it’s swirling down an unplugged sink. Vasquez expected something sharp at the end of that scrutinizing stare, but Faraday knocks him on his ass by actually getting to the point.
Shit, that means they have to acknowledge this now.
(Vasquez almost wishes Faraday had just suckerpunched him instead.)
He finally deflates on his own side of the table, frowning down at his drink. ]
[ No, actually, that's a lie. Faraday knows exactly what he wants them to be doing, and it's paying off their tab, running back to one of their homes, and fucking till sunrise.
But that's probably not the most tactful answer, at the moment. ]
All I know is, it feels like we just put down a landmine, and we're both tryin' not to set it off.
[ Sure, Statesman may send them on more solo missions than paired, but when they do work together, things go fantastically smoothly – in spite of all their bickering and sniping.
He takes another fortifying sip of whiskey from his glass, licking his lips. He forces his voice to smooth out when he asks, ]
[ The responsible answer is “yes.” One indulgence and nothing more, for the sake of their work (and their friendship). But much like Faraday, self restraint isn’t Vasquez’s strongest suit, and he’s made a life of impulsive decisions and indulgence.
Except— maybe this isn’t as indulgent. Less recklessly so, at least. He’s genuinely agonizing over the best course of action, and he just wants to choose right.
[ The question startles Faraday – enough so that he loses some of his composure, ends up frowning in surprise at Vasquez.
A part of him had expected immediate agreement, or for Vasquez to smile in relief and admit he had made a mistake – and Faraday had been steeling himself for that, had been readying himself to keep the disappointment off his face.
To get that instead, though – for a second, he's not sure how to respond.
[ Vasquez can see that he catches Faraday off guard, and for a moment, he’s worried it’s for the worse (that Faraday was hoping Vasquez would agree to shut things down), but that careful allowance—
That’s good, isn’t it?
He’s still careful about his words and how he speaks, but he’s still hopeful enough to offer, ]
[ Well. This conversation has solidly gone in a direction he did not expect.
Not that he feels any need to complain about it, considering he fully expected for the two of them to agree that while the other night was fantastic, they should under no circumstances ever do that again, and that he'd need to drown himself in whiskey afterward.
He lets out a quiet little laugh, almost relieved. ]
Again. More. Or possibly now, hypothetically speakin'.
[ Once again, Faraday forces himself to hide another grin before he drains what's left of his drink. He gets to his feet, nodding for Vasquez to follow.
Vasquez did, after all, get the first couple of rounds. Faraday is too much of a miser to pay off the whole tab on his own, eager as he may be to get the show on the road. ]
[ As Faraday downs his drink, Vasquez quickly does the same. The gin burns his throat, warms his chest as excitement makes his insides dance with nerves.
Without the thrum of adrenaline, with the concreteness of this brief (and arguably bare-bones) decision, this feels more... real.
Vasquez rises to his feet with Faraday, and rather than try to worm his way out of his tab, he reaches for his wallet, producing a handful of bills – honestly, enough for his tab, Faraday’s, and a tip.
(Faster than the both of them trying to settle up separately.) ]
He starts heading out before Vasquez, offering a polite nod to the bartender as he heads out. She studies him, watching the rhythm of his gait and the relative steadiness of his step, and she calls out to him, "Be careful, huh?"
He answers with a grin, a wink, and a brisk salute.
In the brief time he's on his own in the car, he wonders if they're making yet another goddamn mistake. And he wonders if they ought to put a stop to this before things really become complicated – but Faraday, by his own admission, tends to live moment to moment, only planning far enough ahead to keep himself from getting killed.
Right now, this sounds like a goddamn excellent idea. And maybe later, the consequences of this will bite him in the ass, but that's something he'll deal with when he has to.
The car is already started by the time Vasquez slides into the passenger seat, and Faraday only waits long enough for him to settle and buckle in before he's pulling out into the street. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ "Years" is more accurate. He more or less set to searching the night after Vasquez used the nickname on him. ]
And Sam's been a real pill about it.
no subject
And since this nickname isn’t going to embarrass Vasquez, he finally offers, ]
G-u-e-r-o.
[ Because he’s obviously not going to tell Faraday outright. ]
no subject
And yet again, he was expecting something pejorative instead of something as mild as this, which is why his expression sours. ]
Seriously? That's all?
Hell. The way you've all been carryin' on tryin' to keep it a secret, I thought you were callin' me something vile.
no subject
I just thought it was funny how you kept getting so riled up because of it.
no subject
Its' why he merely kicks at Vasquez's shoe. ]
no subject
... actually, that’s utterly false, because he doesn’t hesitate to kick Faraday right back – lightly, given how hard he could kick. ]
No seas tan bebe, guero.
no subject
Still, he shoots Vasquez another sour look, and maybe he's feeling a little petty, now, considering he's realized that half the team has been keeping that mundane little nickname a secret from him for shits and giggles. It's why he blurts out, ]
Now, what's that mean? Or are you just tryin' to use Spanish again to hide shit, like how you think I'm cute?
no subject
It— stings, even if it probably shouldn’t.
(Because it’s embarrassing. It leaves Vasquez feeling exposed when he and Faraday haven’t discussed that night they tumbled into bed together. Vasquez doesn’t know where they stand, and part of him is convinced Faraday has seen it for the mistake it probably was, so it’s better not to mention it again.
But Vasquez had slipped, and now he feels like he’s at a disadvantage. Rarely does that truly bother him with Faraday, because even when they’re competitive with each other, the stakes never feel that steep. Right now, however, the high ground looks awful high when something more personal is on display.)
The tease in his tone is gone, and his words are snapped out more than Vasquez intends. ]
I said not to be such a baby about it.
no subject
If he's honest, the comment isn't too far from the norm, even if Vasquez did spout it off in Spanish, and he's not as offended as he probably should be.
And for as much as Faraday may play the fool, he can be insightful, when he wants to be. It's why he notices how Vasquez's voice sharpens, his tone and posture becoming almost defensive, and how Vasquez only responds to half of what Faraday pointed out.
He sips at his drink for a second. Then, slowly, ]
And you think I'm cute.
[ Or handsome? Google was slightly unhelpful. ]
no subject
One small tightening and tick of his jaw muscle, before, ]
And?
[ He says it expectantly, like he’s prompting Faraday for a point. He’s not evading the statement, despite the defensive response; there’s no point trying to convince Faraday that he’d misspoken or Google had turned up a mistranslation.
Better to meet Faraday with a challenge.
A familiar ”so what are you going to do about it?” provocation ].
no subject
Of course, learning doesn't always translate into applying, but he manages it, on occasion.
He sits up to lean forward with his elbows on the table.
He echoes, ]
And.
[ Though he pauses, frowning at the other man. Faraday's posture is rigid, expression tense and serious.
Jesus wept, he's not good with uncertainty, and as much as he'd much rather be the exact last person to drag this topic kicking and screaming to the surface, Faraday also hates pussyfooting around. The latter wins out, eventually.
The tension drains from him on a sharp, frustrated exhale. ]
And. We gotta figure out what the hell we're doin'.
no subject
Vasquez keeps staring Faraday down, unmoving, waiting—
And then all of that tension just leaves like it’s swirling down an unplugged sink. Vasquez expected something sharp at the end of that scrutinizing stare, but Faraday knocks him on his ass by actually getting to the point.
Shit, that means they have to acknowledge this now.
(Vasquez almost wishes Faraday had just suckerpunched him instead.)
He finally deflates on his own side of the table, frowning down at his drink. ]
What do you want us to be doing?
no subject
Shit, Vas, I don't know.
[ No, actually, that's a lie. Faraday knows exactly what he wants them to be doing, and it's paying off their tab, running back to one of their homes, and fucking till sunrise.
But that's probably not the most tactful answer, at the moment. ]
All I know is, it feels like we just put down a landmine, and we're both tryin' not to set it off.
no subject
That is a good way to put it.
[ Because it sure feels like a landmine, just waiting for them.
But first— ]
I don’t want this changing our work together, si?
no subject
[ Sure, Statesman may send them on more solo missions than paired, but when they do work together, things go fantastically smoothly – in spite of all their bickering and sniping.
He takes another fortifying sip of whiskey from his glass, licking his lips. He forces his voice to smooth out when he asks, ]
So, what. One and done?
no subject
Except— maybe this isn’t as indulgent. Less recklessly so, at least. He’s genuinely agonizing over the best course of action, and he just wants to choose right.
But he still wants. ]
... Does it have to be?
no subject
A part of him had expected immediate agreement, or for Vasquez to smile in relief and admit he had made a mistake – and Faraday had been steeling himself for that, had been readying himself to keep the disappointment off his face.
To get that instead, though – for a second, he's not sure how to respond.
Slowly, ]
No. I suppose it doesn't have to be.
no subject
That’s good, isn’t it?
He’s still careful about his words and how he speaks, but he’s still hopeful enough to offer, ]
We could... do it again, I think. Do it more.
no subject
Not that he feels any need to complain about it, considering he fully expected for the two of them to agree that while the other night was fantastic, they should under no circumstances ever do that again, and that he'd need to drown himself in whiskey afterward.
He lets out a quiet little laugh, almost relieved. ]
Again. More. Or possibly now, hypothetically speakin'.
no subject
Oh. ]
... Now?
[ Vasquez tries to keep his grin under control (to not look too excited by this prospect). ]
no subject
Hypothetically speaking.
no subject
Hypothetically speaking.
no subject
Vasquez did, after all, get the first couple of rounds. Faraday is too much of a miser to pay off the whole tab on his own, eager as he may be to get the show on the road. ]
C'mon.
no subject
Without the thrum of adrenaline, with the concreteness of this brief (and arguably bare-bones) decision, this feels more... real.
Vasquez rises to his feet with Faraday, and rather than try to worm his way out of his tab, he reaches for his wallet, producing a handful of bills – honestly, enough for his tab, Faraday’s, and a tip.
(Faster than the both of them trying to settle up separately.) ]
I’ll meet you at your car.
no subject
He starts heading out before Vasquez, offering a polite nod to the bartender as he heads out. She studies him, watching the rhythm of his gait and the relative steadiness of his step, and she calls out to him, "Be careful, huh?"
He answers with a grin, a wink, and a brisk salute.
In the brief time he's on his own in the car, he wonders if they're making yet another goddamn mistake. And he wonders if they ought to put a stop to this before things really become complicated – but Faraday, by his own admission, tends to live moment to moment, only planning far enough ahead to keep himself from getting killed.
Right now, this sounds like a goddamn excellent idea. And maybe later, the consequences of this will bite him in the ass, but that's something he'll deal with when he has to.
The car is already started by the time Vasquez slides into the passenger seat, and Faraday only waits long enough for him to settle and buckle in before he's pulling out into the street. ]
My place or yours?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)