Liz draws her knees up, bracing her heels against a divot in the bench. She automatically lifts a hand halfway to the aviators on her head, which is as far as she gets before the realization takes hold that her sunglasses are never going to fit Red. Unless he wants to snap the earpieces off and wear them like a two-lensed monocle.

"What happened to that pair you used to have?" she asks.

While her hand is up, she pulls the rubber band off of her braid's tail and de-tangles the first few plaits with her fingers.