Now that he's sure of himself, Wes watches the man for an entirely different reason. He can't blame him for his tension. Trying to imagine how he might've reacted if the roles were reversed yields nothing good. Certainly not a year ago, when he'd first come to this place. Had someone been bold enough to grab him from behind, Wes might have discovered a lot earlier the way that this place handles death. He watches the man's fingers tap against the screen. He's comfortable with technology, at least. That says something about the place and time he's come from.

Neal. Not even Jean-Paul, from a different universe. He knows there are multiple Logans, multiple Buckys. The same men and women in different forms, plucked from the endless expanse of possibility that must cause the universe to fraction itself eternally. Is it better or worse that this man who shares a face with Jean-Paul has nothing else to do with him? Wes frowns at his phone.

WES. DIDN'T MEAN TO TAKE YOU BY SURPRISE. YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE MY PARTNER. He clarifies a little further, watching for any sense of a reaction.

I'M SORRY, I WAS JUST PICKING UP... He pauses for a long moment. MY OTHER PARTNER. HE OWNS THIS PAWN SHOP.