Last.


PARKER

Parker steps around Hardison to hover by the corner of her desk, limp plant between them.

He whistles low, prodding it with a long finger and a frown.

"You watered it?"

Her face pinches. "Never had a plant before; how often do they need it?"

Dark incredulous eyes roll around to her. "Depends on the kind of plant. This one, every other day."

She shrugs, glancing away. "Seems like a lot of care for just a plant."

"Well, this poor thing's going to require lotsa TLC."

Parker finds she wants to smile at tall, skinny Hardison cooing over her plant.