Vasquez is very good at being a distraction from thinking, at least when he's not in the middle of his own awful spiral. Lucky for her, right now, he's not. He gestures to her with his cigarette, shrugging absently. "A box of tobacco and rolling papers showed up."

Sure, he's almost a quarter through the box, but it had been a big one and he smokes a lot. "I think maybe they like me a little, but not a lot, otherwise I would've gotten my guns and some tequila."

Mostly the guns, though, he still feels lost without the weight of them, even the absent spinning he'd do to keep himself occupied.