Airborne Arena Of All-Too Attractive Agents. Syd's bending over Good Ethan (not like that! Her boyfriend's on the plane too! God!), putting drops in his eyes. What, did he break his hands too? He can't put the drops in himself? He's blind, not crippled! Then, before Syd can jump on Good Ethan's lap and start making like Showgirls, her boyfriend enters, doing all sorts of wrong things to your basic black long-sleeved shirt and black jeans.
Syd says something to Good Ethan about his eyes normalizing in a few minutes, and walks over to her boyfriend. He's all, you okay? She's all, way to ask about the almost-blind guy in the corner, dude. "Whaddya think?" she asks, obviously questioning Good Ethan's state of mind. Vaughn's all, well, he looks good to me. And I do mean GOOD. Syd's all, dude? Has he gone psycho on us? Keep to the straight and narrow, sweetheart, or I am turning this plane around. Vaughn glances over at Good Ethan. "No signs of any post-traumatic stress disorder or symptoms of behavior modification," he says, looking scrumptious. Syd's all, he was doing just fine with the lab coat guys, and he even risked losing his sight to get us out. Vaughn's all, eh, I dunno. I think he has the hots for you. Syd's all, FOCUS, FLYBOY. She glances back, and Good Ethan's slouched in a chair, rubbing at his eyes and wearing what looks like Vaughn's casual Friday wardrobe -- dark pants, blue oxford, brown leather jacket, they're all here. Syd turns back to her boyfriend and is all, yeah, well, we'll know more after the psych evaluation. They share a smile, and Syd goes back to talk to Good Ethan instead of following Vaughn up into the front portion of the plane and making her own little entry into the mile-high club. She's not the brightest bulb in the pack when it comes to making hay while the sun shines, is she?
Syd asks Good Ethan how he's doing. He gruffs, "I could have sworn you were a blonde." She tells him that she was, but she changed. Good Ethan just side-grins at her, and his lower lip should really have an acting career of its own, people. I mean, Ethan Hawke and Michael Vartan have some seriously sexy lower lips. It's not right how sexy they are. I could write volumes on how sexy just their lower lips are. But I won't.
Good Ethan's all, it's nice to actually SEE the face of the person who saved my life. Then he's all, so, enough with the gratitude and everything...where's Agent D'Overbite? Is she back in Hell-Lay? Syd's all, great. Why do I always have to break the bad news about dead people? Who'd I dick over in a previous life to get THIS job? Then she's all, D'Overbite's dead, baby. Dead, dead, dead-ski. Good Ethan just kind of looks off to the side as Syd quietly apologizes.