[Nacho fumbles silently in his head for a second or two, trying to figure out how to navigate Jimmy clamming up. He can guess why, but he's unsure what his response to it should be. He's not going to fall all over himself blubbering apologies for something that -- as far as Nacho is concerned -- Jimmy set in motion his own fucking self anyway by trying to rip off the Kettlemans in the first place.

But he also doesn't really want to see anyone relatively innocent traumatized or hurting, and especially not because of him. It's definitely not his intention to start digging up unpleasant memories.

He makes a soft, faint, barely perceptible humming noise. Then he switches from audio to video, so Jimmy can see his face. It's the kind of meaningless theatrical gesture that Nacho thinks is bullshit but that he imagines Jimmy might appreciate. He thinks about how he'd try to appear to one of the customers at his father's ship; neutral, non-threatening, even pleasant, and tries to look like that. A gentle, and hopefully soothing: ] It's okay.

[Then he moves on.]

Nah. The Doctor. [The Doctor is... different, that's for sure. Nacho is laying in what looks like a storage area, clearly hiding out away from his waiter duties. It's a little dark but he's on his back, pendant angle above him as he plays with its chain string.] That guy gets real excited about human shit, huh?

[Nacho doesn't mind it, though. He thinks it's nice.]

This is the most relaxing I've done in a while. Even before I came here. [A rare moment of honesty. He half-smiles conspiratorially, like he's sharing a joke with a friend, and then flips the pendant over so Jimmy can see the dark ceiling of the storage room. A faint slit of light slides in from under the crack of the closed door.

The wedding, for now, is forgotten.]