Oh, that's a cigarette. It's hard to keep the wanton look from his face as he stares at it, almost like he doesn't notice the man it's attached to. The demand brings him back around though, offering a wide, insincere smile for Vaquez and shoving his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. That's not nearly as satisfying as it is in slacks, but beggars can't be choosers, can they?

"Hell." He sounds entirely too sincere. Cheerful, really.