Fortunately for Jimmy, if Nacho is getting violent with anyone today, it won't be Jimmy. If anything, he's more likely to get violent to protect Jimmy, not hurt him. But he hopes he won't have to do even that.

The other man's wariness evokes mixed emotions. Nacho doesn't like hurting people, physically or emotionally, and it doesn't bring him any joy to have an innocent (or, in Jimmy's case, maybe "innocent" is putting it strongly; relative innocent, then) afraid of him.

But there's a certain respect that people give you when they're aware of what you can do to fuck them up. With brute force or otherwise. Nacho likes that. The respect. The ability to be listened to without argument or protest. The knowing someone isn't going to try to screw you over. And in the world he comes from, brute strength by itself isn't enough to win you that kind of deference, but it's an essential ingredient to getting any kind of real respect.

Jimmy doesn't seem like he's cut from the same cloth, though, so Nacho tries to loosen up a little. Relax. Let some of the tension out, so Jimmy feels more at ease.

Tries. Nacho and loosening up don't go hand-in-hand. But a flicker of amusement crosses his face at Jimmy's description of soccer moms.

"Right." He exhales through his nose. "So... what do we do?" he asks, almost hopefully. Like Jimmy will have the answer.