Just as he'd suspected, when the touch goes away, Vasquez can help but feel the disappointment running through him. He knows that they're not close, but it had felt like something was brewing when they'd fought back to back, not to mention when they'd drank together and the bickering (and flirting) as they set up.

With one last sigh, he gives in to knowing he doesn't get Faraday's touch anymore. "I've never been that far North, I hate the cold." Which, eyes flashing with worry, he now thinks of something he hasn't paid much mind to. "It's probably going to get really cold here. Mierda."

He glances down at his clothes, then to Faraday's, smirking as he does. "I think someone likes me more."