So our ragtag band of adventurers meets up again, and Hurley asks where Art is. "It's Arse, you idiot," says Arse, as he stumbles out of the bushes, like he was hiding from Lostzilla, but being calling Art was too much for him to bear. "Dude, I thought you were dead," says Hurley mildly. And Arse snaps that they should go after the dynamite. I guess now that he's in danger of being eaten, he's in favour of the "safety in numbers" philosophy.
Shannon's on the beach, doing whatever. Packing or something. And speaking of characters we thought were dead: there's Vincent, with Walt! "Why are you folding clothes?" he asks. "Because I'm anal," she says. Oh god, oh god, don't set me up so easily like that, Shannon. She can't even be nice to Walt: "Is there something you want?" Walt looks at his dog. "I think you should take Vincent." She looks at him, and asks if he's serious. "He'll take care of you," says Walt. Aw. Shannon crouches down and pets Vincent, who's such a good boy. Isn't hims? Yes he is! He's almost as pretty a dog as my dog, who -- and you'll never believe how lucky I am -- happens to be the prettiest, smartest dog ever. I so lucked out. Shannon smilingly asks why Walt thinks she needs Vincent to look after her. Walt explains that after his mom died, Vincent looked after him, when no one would talk to him about it and pretended nothing had happened. "So I talked to Vincent. He's a good listener. You can talk to him about Boone if you want." Oh yeah, there go my heartstrings. Shannon starts to lose it, but she musters out an, "All right. But only if you get us rescued, okay?" Walt looks concerned, like maybe he doesn't want her looking after Vincent if she's going to lose her shit like this.
We flash back to Shannon in an airport, and she's selfishly sprawled across three seats in a waiting lounge. And normally I'd be annoyed by that, but, I mean, those legs. My god. So then Sayid walks up. And he puts his carry-on bag down next to her, and asks if she wouldn't mind watching his bag for a moment, he'll be right back. Shannon barely flicks her eyes upward from her magazine as she says, "Sure, whatever." And I'm sorry, but there is no way that a smart guy like Sayid, as a man of obvious Middle Eastern descent in a post-9/11 world, is going to take any chances in an airport in a country run by a right-wing government by leaving his bag unattended. "Sure, whatever" indeed. Boone comes up and says he can't get them into first-class, and she asks why not. He says she shouldn't have yelled at the gate agent. "What, you're on his side now?" she spits. "One day you're going to appreciate everything I do for you, after I'm killed on the island that we're going to crash-land on," he says. I swear to god he says that. And she sarcastically says she can't wait for that day, and gets up. He watches her go for a moment.
On an escalator, Shannon says she's going to try the gate agent again, and Boone tells her to let it go. "Excuse me for not being pathetic enough to want to sit next to some crying baby for the next fifteen hours," she says. Boone, though, travelling with Shannon, is obviously quite used to sitting next to a crying baby, so he calls her a bitch. And she threatens to get him thrown off the flight, and he wants to know how she would do that, and then she threatens to tell airport security something, but she doesn't say what, and he doesn't think she's capable of that and...I'm sorry, but if anyone is familiar with what pretty girls are able to accomplish, rightly or wrongly, it's Boone. And at the top of the escalator, Shannon finds a security guard and tells him that "some Arab guy" left his bags alone downstairs. So the security guard runs off without getting Shannon to come with him and show him where or what the guy looked like or what he was wearing or anything. Shannon smirks at Boone. "How's that?" she says, and Boone stares sadly after her. "It was still totally worth it," he's thinking.