In the next three days the ring makes the rounds. It starts with Sophie then gets passed to Eliot under the table during lunch. He wraps it in plastic and hides it in one of Nate's coffee canisters. After that it gets shoved into the back of Eliot's CD player where a D battery would belong. It spends a few minutes under Nate's hat and a few hours in the lining of Sophie's purse. And, while Hardison wasn't happy about it, the ring even resided in Eliot's boot at some point.
On the day before their trip, Sophie gives it back to Hardison when she picks up Parker for a forced visit to the spa. The hand off is so smooth that he doesn't even catch it right away.
"Come on, Parker," Sophie coaxes. "The boys are just going to watch football. Doesn't a nice spa day sound so much better than that?"
"Are strangers going to touch me?"
"It's a good touch, Parker," Hardison says massaging her shoulders to prove his point. She warily agrees, but with stipulations.
"Nobody's tying me up in seaweed!"
"Fine. No seaweed wraps, I promise," she appeases hopefully. "Does that mean you'll come?"
"I'll get my coat." Sophie beams in delight, following Parker toward the door.
"You won't regret it!"
"If I'm not back by night fall-"
"I know," Hardison interjects, coming to see them off. "I'll round up the cavalry."
"Don't worry," Sophie assures both of them. "It's going to be great. Have fun being manly," she adds, playfully tugging on the strings of Hardison's hoodie.
"Just try to stay out of trouble," he returns, giving Parker a quick peck as she departs.
"We will!" Sophie winks before the two disappear. He seems a bit confused by the signal until he checks his pockets. There, resting safely in its little box, is the ring he's betting his future on.
Hardison gazes at it for a long moment before slipping it back into his pocket and heading to McRory's. He finds Nate at the bar…drinking…alone. He takes the adjacent stool and orders a beer before he acknowledges the older man.
"I think it's your turn, man." Hardison places the ring on the bar and slides it toward Nate. "We haven't really had the chance to talk about all this." The man puts down his drink to flip open the jewelry box. He appraises it passively, but says nothing. "So, what do you think?"
"Pretty. I'm sure any woman would be happy to wear it," Nate replies noncommittally.
"That wasn't what I meant and you know it," Hardison says evenly. "I've never asked someone to marry me before. I'd feel a lot better if I knew you approved."
"It's not my approval you should be worried about."
"Yeah, but - Wait," he says in obvious concern. "You think I should be worried?" His eyes are comically wide as he takes a nervous swig of his beer.
"I swear, Hardison, sometimes you make it too easy," Nate comments with a smirk.
"Seriously? This is not the time for your mind games."
"Right, sorry." As the mastermind looks at the man next to him, he sees a glimpse of himself. He remembers the mess that he was before proposing to Maggie. "Alec, you're a good man and you make her happy. How could I possibly disapprove?"
"Thanks, Nate. That means a lot."
"Are you sure you know what you're getting into?
"To be perfectly honest, no." Nate chuckles softly into his drink. "But, I don't care. As long as it's me and Parker…I'm in." Nate seems to accept this answer and raises his glass. "Here's hoping she says yes," Hardison mumbles before their glasses clink.
"Come on, Alec. I don't know what Eliot's cooking upstairs, but it smelled pretty good last time I checked." Nate pockets the ring as they settle their tabs and relocate to the apartment.
While the men eat jambalaya and act as men do, the women are being pampered. In separate, identical rooms Sophie gets a facial while Parker opts for a massage. After that they sit side by side for their manicures and pedicures. By the time they are all done, Parker's opinion of spas has completely changed.
"I think we should do that more often," she says dreamily as they walk into Nate's apartment.
"I have been asking you to go for months!"
Sophie's comment is lost in the greetings from the guys. She grabs a bottled water and settles into an arm chair. Parker hops over the couch's back, landing between Eliot and Hardison.
"I smell like a candy cane," she announces swinging an arm over each of their shoulders. Her man, unable to deny his curiosity, turns to sniff her, but Eliot just clenches his jaw.
"They had this blue peppermint oil they use during the scalp massage," Sophie explains. "It was marvelous."
"Look!" Parker bursts out, wiggling her freshly painted fingernails in front of their eyes. "Overexposed in South Beach."
"What?" all three men ask.
"That's the name of the color," she elaborates. Eliot finally bats her fingers out of his face and shrugs her off.
"OPI always has weird names," Sophie chimes in, holding up her own hands now. "Glitzerland," she supplies as proof.
"Fascinating," Eliot beams with fake enthusiasm, to which Parker flicks his ear in response.
"You do that one more time and I'm cooking rabbit for Christmas dinner," he growls. "Mmmm, bunny!" Parker's mouth drops open in horror.
"Can't we do a goose?" asks Sophie. "Like a traditional English Christmas."
"Ah, no. This is America. Christmas means turkey," Hardison says confidently.
"That's Thanksgiving-"
"It's Christmas, too," he argues back. "We love our turkey."
"I thought we agreed on ham," Nate pipes up. Parker remains silent, having few holiday memories to draw from.
"We didn't agree on anything," Eliot insists. "Since I'll be the one cooking, I'll decide what we're having."
"Well, whatever you choose, I'm sure it'll be delicious," Sophie gushes. "Just rem-"
"No!" Eliot cuts in pointing a stern finger at her. "None of your mind tricks! I've already decided and your little word games aren't going to change anything."
"That's what she wants you to think," Hardison says cryptically.
"That doesn't even make sense."
"Exactly."
They debate the Christmas menu rather zealously until Nate finally kicks them out. His breaking point came when Eliot threatened to make hot dogs and mac and cheese.
"Alright, alright! We have plenty of time to fight about it when we get there!"
"It wouldn't be Christmas without at least one family feud," Hardison notes.
"I think we got that covered," mumbles Eliot.
"Good, so let's put this debate on hold for…fourteen hours," Nate says looking at his watch.
"This isn't over," Sophie whispers toward Eliot who only makes a face in reply.
"8 am, tomorrow. Don't be late," Nate warns. "Do I need to go over the rules one more time?"
"No hitting on the flight attendents," Eliot grumbles.
"Christmas carols will only be played, sang, hummed or whistled in the forty eight hours of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day," Parker recites dutifully.
"No tracking Nate's alcohol consumption," Sophie says in defeat.
"And Hardison, the most important rule of all?"
"Every time a bell rings-"
"I'm adding no movie quotes to the list," Nate cuts him off.
"No jobs," they say in unison.
"Very good!"