Vasquez's eyes are still on Faraday's body, not sure he's been able to take them off since he got here. He's used to staring at the man, hasn't been able to take his fascinated eyes off him since he tripped off a horse and insulted him.

It had been promising and exciting, because Vasquez hand't been sure if they were going to kill one another or have something else. "I have lots of people giving me presents," he agrees, but the thing on his wrist, this he doesn't know much about. "Some kind of watch that also does things. Some people, they type on it," he says, but he's not looking at the watch.

No, he's still staring at Faraday, the way he moves, the view of his ass from where Vasquez has dropped back. "I can think of a few things that don't suit you," he says. "Or, maybe I just look better in them."