[Vasquez can't help his delighted grin when he's called cowboy, even if he does have some very particular opinions about that.]

Vaquero. Cowboys are loud, flashy Americans. I'm a loud, flashy Mexican. Different, after all.

[He perks up, though, when she mentions what she does. He hasn't thought about this, but now that she says it, all thoughts of where he wants to work suddenly focus in on this one idea. It would be a place to fire his guns without having to worry about losing bullets or being yelled at for hurting people.]

Mija, you're a genius. Has anyone told you this?