Reese despised airports.

     Specifically international airports, where too many people are crammed onto a plane for ten hours; lest you need to use the bathroom, you risk starting a whole tidal wave of people struggling out of their seats, and flight attendants pushing food carts out of the way.

     So when she flopped down in her seat and closed her eyes, she felt a huge wave of relief flood over her. She'd woken up and 3:00 a.m that morning, and taken two previous flights just to get to her final stop, a five-hour plane ride -- though, coming from someone who was on their way to Hawaii, she knew she shouldn't be complaining.

     Reese just had to keep telling herself this, repeating it over and over again in her head as a woman sat behind her, a screaming baby in her arms.

       Five more hours, she thought fiercely, and you'll be in paradise.

     She had her dear brother to thank for the trip. He'd invited her to his wedding (which, of course, she was overjoyed about), but it did also mean she had to leave her home in LA and travel a couple thousand miles to get there.

     To add to the fun, one of Reese's flights got delayed, so she was stuck in between for an extra three hours. In all honesty, she just wanted to get the traveling over with and didn't even want to start thinking about the trip back home.

     She bent down to shove her backpack under the seat in front of her, then slumped back in a huff, forcing her muscles to relax. The plane began to fill up, and soon the anxious chatter of tourists filled the air. Reese silently thanked her roommate once again, for remembering to shove a pair of earbuds into her pocket before she left.

     She slipped her hand into the pocket of her overall shorts... but came up with nothing. She repeated the process with each and every pocket, only to find the exact same result -- she'd somehow lost them, just like she does everything else.

     "Shit!" she hissed, finally giving up and letting her arms go limp. Now she would have no sanction from the baby behind her, or the man across the aisle, for that matter, who had already fallen asleep and was snoring up a storm.

     "Something troubling you miss?" a voice asked above her. She jumped a little in surprise and tilted her head to get a better look at who'd spoken.

     His accent was strange, British, Reese decided, but it sounded sincere all the same. The man was actually quite tall, though it was hard to make out any features under the shadows and harsh florescent light. He wore a crisp suit, looking more like a businessman than a European tourist.

     "Er, no," she rushed, sitting up a little straighter. "No, I'm sorry about that. I just forgot something-"

     "Ah," he sighed, nodding understandingly. "Yes, happens to me all the time. I hope it wasn't something greatly important?"

     Reese just shook her head and smiled. "No, really, it's fine. I'm sorry."

     To her surprise, the man, still smiling, shrugged off a backpack and sat down right next to her, tucking it neatly in front of him.

     "There's no need to apologize," he said, then as he saw her dumbfounded expression, "you don't mind, do you? I'm seat 30c."

     "O-of course not," she stuttered. "It's your seat, by all means."

     Now that she was getting a closer look at his face, she could say with complete confidence that he was okay looking. Sharp features, warm eyes, million-dollar smile. He actually looked vaguely familiar, but Reese promised herself she wouldn't say a thing about it. Previous conversations starting like that had led to a whole lot of embarrassment for her, and she was in no hurry to relive them.

     She watched him pull out a phone, a shiny black one, probably a brand new model (she always felt a little awkward around people with big flashy phones, as, compared to her four-year-old touchscreen, which at this point, was decorated with a spider web of cracks, she felt small and poor). He promptly started tapping the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard, probably composing a long, business-like text before takeoff. He could probably do it in his sleep, she thought, if he wanted.

     Reese busied herself with looking through the informational packets on the side of her seat. She was never great at holding conversations with strangers -- let alone cute British men, so she was always silently thankful when they went about their own thing.

     This went on for about ten minutes before the seatbelt light came on, the pilot began reciting the safety precautions over the intercom. The man next to Reese shut his phone off and stuffed it quickly into his bag. Strangely enough, as he did this, she caught sight of a couple teenage girls, holding up a camera as discreetly as possible and giggling together.

     "Er, sir, I think those girls are... snapping pictures of you," she stuttered, unsure if it was wise to even make him aware of the situation. He looked up, a hint of amusement on his face, and waved at the camera. This let loose another spurt of high-pitched laughter, and then the girls walked off, noses in the cameraphone, probably flipping through the loads of stalker-pics they took.

     The man turned back to Reese, smiling once again like he'd just told a funny joke that she didn't understand.

     "Oh, I'm pretty used to it," was all he said, and she cocked her head in confusion. "I still prefer public planes, though," he continued, "more fun."

     She could identify the humor, and hint of sarcasm in his voice, but beyond that, what he was saying didn't make a lot of sense.

     "So... you get that a lot? People sneakily taking photos of you behind your back? Sounds pretty creepy to me."

       Oh no, Reese though, angry at herself, did that sound mean?

     To her relief, he only laughed. "No, I've grown to not mind it much at all. Most people are actually really polite."

     "So you're..."

     "-I'm an actor, yeah, so kinda known by a few people."

     "Oh," Reese muttered, feeling stupid. Of course, he was an actor, that would explain what he'd been saying about the public planes and photos. "Wow, I'm stupid. That makes sense."

     "Yeah, I'm actually flying for more of a meeting than anything. I'm done with filming for a while, so this is more like half a vacation for me."

     Reese nodded, "I'm going down for a wedding. My brother's, actually. I'm ecstatic for him, but flying's so crazy, I wouldn't have minded if it were a little closer-"

     By now, the plane had begun to move, picking up speed and traveling farther and farther down the runway. Reese stiffened a little, gripping the armrests and squeezing her eyes shut as the nose of the plane lifted into the air. She honestly hated flying itself, and the fact that she was strapped into a huge, metal capsule that was being launched into the air -- who in their right mind would enjoy that?

     She jumped as they lifted off, and her head sunk back further into her seat. Her knuckles were turning white, and she felt faint and a little shaky, almost like someone had set a cinderblock on her chest, and she couldn't shake it, no matter how hard she tried.

     "Are you doing okay, miss?" the man asked, sounding slightly worried. "You look a little ill."

     Reese tried to chuckle lightheartedly. "I-I'm okay, I-I just don't fly much, so it's just a little f-freaky." When he didn't respond, "I'm fine," she assured him, cracking open her eyes to flash him a weak grin.

     He was looking at her, eyes wide and concerned. "It's really okay. I've been on tons of flights, and none have had anything go wrong."

     Reese smiled as if to thank him for trying to console her, but had to shut her eyes again as the plane hit some turbulence. She pried her hands off the armrests and forced them, shaking, into her lap.

     "T-thanks."

     Another wave of silence washed over her, and as the plane steadied a little, she found she wasn't shaking quite as much, and it became a little easier to breathe.

     "By the way, I didn't mean to be so rude earlier, I still haven't even introduced myself." He broke the silence again, and she was inwardly grateful for it.

     Reese looked over to see the man smiling politely, his hand stuck out in front of him. He had long fingers, she noticed, very long, and nice hands.

     "I'm Tom."