A flicker of confusion echoes back across the connection, Dylan not sure what Jack is feeling for or why, followed by the ebb and flow of mild panic as he reaches back, afraid that something might be happening again, gauges that no one feels upset, at least, and lets go, relaxing. He might check back again in a few minutes, when he can get to somewhere he can call Jack, the distance too much for conversation, as new as the connection still is, but he can at least take comfort in the fact that it's not an emergency for those few minutes. It helps, too, that Henley feels that, Jack not the only person Dylan reached for, and sends something soothing back. It's okay. They're okay.

And closer, now, much to Dylan's continued bewilderment, as they step through the door Jack opens and into an alley somewhere much hotter than New York, but in a different way. Dylan's FBI apartment isn't far; they're in Vegas, now.