"Just because I'm black, that automatically makes me Mr. T?" Hardison argues as they return to the cabin. Eliot hefts the tree while the other two are laden with bags.
"So, you think I'm Mr. T?" Eliot says skeptically.
"Of course! He's the muscle."
"Who would I be?" Parker asks.
"Murdock," Hardison states. "You're the wildcard, baby!"
"Nice," she exclaims, giving him a high five.
"Just how many trees do we have to decorate?" Sophie wonders, starting to pick through the bags.
"It's a pretty scrawny tree. Lots of gaps to fill," Hardison says mockingly.
"What's all this?" Nate questions when he comes across some of the security equipment. Eliot starts to explain but Hardison interrupts.
"He met a girl at the hardware store."
"What did you offer to do?" Nate asks with a knowing smile.
"Somebody broke in, smashed a window," Eliot explains nonchalantly. "I'm going to board it up and Hardison is going to put in some basic security measures."
"I thought we decided that we weren't going to do any jobs over the holidays," Nate says, even though he's sure he would have done the same.
"It's only half a job." Eliot considers reasoning with him, but soon changes his strategy. "Hey, look what Parker found!" He points to the snowman that Hardison has placed in the center of the table. When he pushes the button it starts swaying and singing 'Blue Christmas.'
Nate attempts to remind them of the restrictions he put on Christmas songs, but it's futile. Eliot and Hardison are singing along with equally ridiculous Elvis impressions. Parker is dancing while unpacking all the decorations and Sophie is snapping pictures of the whole scene. Nate tries to be mad, but it doesn't hold.
"I think Eliot is the winner," Sophie decides, showing Nate a few of the shots she's gotten.
"Yeah, but Hardison is so committed," he counters. "You have to respect that."
As soon as the song ends, Parker pushes the button again and a new song pours out. This time Elvis is crooning 'I'll Be Home For Christmas.' It's too much for Nate who retreats to his room with a generous glass of scotch.
"See? Worked like a charm," Hardison comments triumphantly. He pats the snowman's sleek bouffant before gathering up their supplies and heading back out into the snow.
"About a hundred years ago it was a school," Jordan informs them. Hardison's mumblings of possible ghosts earn him Eliot's elbow to his ribs. "My grandfather is the one who bought it and remodeled."
"How long has it been a shelter?" Eliot asks, examining the front door and its lock.
"Almost thirty years now." She pauses for a moment, unsure of how much to they really need to know. "When I was a baby my mom killed my dad in self defense. After we showed up on this very doorstep she and my grandma turned it into what it is today."
Both men are a bit stunned but say nothing. Instead they continue to go about their work; Eliot putting in a new dead bolt and Hardison installing a camera. The latter is oblivious, but the former is fully aware of the eyes on them. A few curious heads periodically peek around corners and a little blonde girl stares through the bars of the banister.
"I take it you don't get a lot of men dropping in," Eliot says, testing the new lock a few times before handing the keys to Jordan.
"There is our handyman, Norrie, but he's in Arizona for the winter." An afterthought occurs to her and she adds, "Of course, he is seventy six and he looks like Burl Ives…"
"So, that's why I feel so unwelcome," Hardison murmurs.
"You're not unwelcome," Jordan insists. "Just out of the ordinary." She turns and motions to the little girl hiding on the stairs. "Hey Kasey, why don't you come down and meet my new friends." With a bit more coaxing, she eases down to the second step but not an inch further. "This is Eliot and that's Alec."
Kasey gives a timid wave, revealing a neon green cast on her left hand ending just before the elbow.
"They're putting in big new locks and fancy cameras," Jordan says, sitting on the steps beside the girl. "Isn't that nice of them?"
"He has hair like a girl," Kasey whispers loudly, then scurries back up the stairs.
"I like her," Hardison grins.
"Shut up!"
"Why do you hate Christmas so much?"
After Sophie promised to remove the batteries from Elvis, the snowman, Nate agreed to come out and help with the tree. When Parker starts with the twenty questions, he immediately regrets his decision. Sophie blocks his exit, forcing him to squirm against the blonde's curiosity.
"I don't hate Christmas."
"You hate all the songs, and movies and decorations," she points out while circling the tree with a string of lights.
"I don't hate all those things." He stops to choose his words carefully. "They remind me of things that I miss and that makes me sad."
"That wasn't so hard," Sophie comforts. "I think this is really good for you. Almost like therapy."
"You mean your family," Parker states bluntly, causing the other two to cringe. "Your ex-wife is still alive. If you miss her so much, why aren't you with her? You still love her, right?"
"Ah, well," Nate stammers trying to read Sophie's mind. "Yes, but in a different way," he continues carefully.
"Then why did you kiss her when you thought that elevator what going to blow up? And you get all huffy when she's with other people."
"Yes, Nate, why is that?" Sophie chimes in.
"It's a complicated situation."
"I am a ver-We," Sophie corrects quickly. "We are very intelligent women. I'm sure we can handle it," she asserts.
"I will always care about Maggie," he says after a long drink. "But the truth is, we aren't the same two people who fell in love. We never will be." The meaning that hangs in the air would be palpable to anyone except Parker. She is too busy with the tinsel to notice the looks that Nate and Sophie are sharing.
"Do you think that will happen to me and Hardison?" she asks, stopping her circuit of the tree. Sophie is quick to deny the possibility, but Parker rambles on. "If we ever split up, I hope I hate him…That whole loving someone but being apart sounds really awful."
"It's a different kind of love," Nate shrugs while pouring another drink. "It doesn't feel the same as what you have with Hardison." He honestly hopes that she will never fully understand what he's talking about. Parker mulls this over for a moment then nods in acceptance.
"What about you, Sophie? Have you ever been in love?" she asks in genuine interest.
"Yes, a few times, I suppose," she replies vaguely, hoping that it will be the end of this line of questioning.
"Do go on," Nate says smugly. "Don't be shy. It's very therapeutic."
"So you were in love with a person and one day you just stopped?" Parker wonders. She can't fathom the idea. "And then later you loved someone else?"
"Sometimes when you fall in love…" Sophie tries to find a metaphor that she will understand. Money. "Sometimes it's like winning the lottery. It happens really fast and it turns your whole world upside down." Parker is with her so far. "But, eventually it's spent up and there's nothing left. Then all you have are fond memories and possibly a tattoo…"
"That's very well put," Nate says evenly before quickly adding, "Do you have a tattoo?"
"For you, it's different," Sophie moves on, ignoring Nate completely. "It's more like working for a paycheck. Everyday you give and take. In return, you get love and security, support and affection," she goes on wistfully. "Like a nice steady paycheck, you know it's coming. In a week, in a month, you know that person will be there with you."
"In a year?" Parker asks, her voice thin and cautious.
"In ten years," Sophie says with conviction. Her heart constricts thinking of Parker and Hardison. She remembers their first meetings and imagines what they will become as the years go by. She pulls herself out of her reverie to see that Nate seems to be thinking about the exact same thing. Again, Parker is completely unaware of the looks they are exchanging, as she flits around placing colored balls on the spindly branches.
"What do you think Parker will say?"
It's getting late and the guys are almost done. Eliot is putting insulated tape around the edges of the board to stop the drafts. Hardison is on Jordan's computer brining up the camera feeds.
"When?"
"When I propose!"
"I know," Eliot chuckles. "It's just funny to see you get all worked up."
"What is wrong with you? This is not the time to mess with me!" Hardison sulks.
"You said it yourself, she's the wildcard." Eliot pauses to examine his work. "In any given situation, I have no idea what she's going to say or do."
"Maybe she doesn't want to get married," Hardison worries. "Maybe I should scrap this whole thing. Oh, god. What if she laughs at me?"
"She's not gonna- Well, she probably won't laugh at you."
"Thanks. I feel so much better," Hardison says sarcastically.
"Has she ever hinted that she wants to get married?" Eliot asks honestly.
"Does Parker ever hint at anything?"
"Good point."
"I doubt she even thinks it's an option." He pushes away from the desk and starts gathering stray cords and wires. "She's never seen a functional, long-term relationship. Getting hitched is something regular, law abiding citizens do. Not us."
"Man, she never stood a chance," Eliot muses, shaking his head.
"What do you mean?"
"The rest of us, maybe we didn't grow up in Norman Rockwell paintings, but we had a chance."
"What? To be normal?" Hardison ventures.
"Yeah," Eliot replies. "I don't think any of us would be very good at it. And, I'm sure I'd be bored, but at least I had the choice."
"What are you saying?" Hardison asks, unsure of where this revelation is going.
"I'm saying you should ask her. She deserves it." He snaps his tool box shut and turns to face his friend. "More than anybody else I know. She deserves some solid ground for a change."
Hardison is about to agree with him when Jordan walks in.
"I can't thank you enough. I wish there was something I could do to repay you," she says sadly. Both men are quick to shrug off her gratitude and Hardison goes about showing her how to access the camera and the rest of the security system.
"You can view all four feeds, but if you want to see one on the full screen you just click right here," he says pointing at the computer. "If you want to look through old footage-Someone's at the door," he realizes looking at the screen.
"Oh, that's Sarah," Jordan jumps up, striding out of the room and toward the back door. "Her key won't work in the new lock."
In the hall, Eliot and Hardison can hear the old door being wrenched open. Jordan starts to explain the new locks, but cuts off abruptly. "Oh my god! Are you alright?" The fear in her voice brings the two men out into the corridor in concern. Jordan is trying to calm the girl down but with very little success.
"I just went to pick up some stuff. I didn't think he'd be home," Sarah is saying hysterically. "He said I might as well leave it because I'd be back soon."
"No, you won't." Jordan affirms. "You're staying here until we find an apartment for you."
"He said he's going to shut you down just so I won't have anywhere else to go," she sobs breathlessly, unaware of the two men standing awkwardly in the corner.
"He can't do that," she replies evenly.
"He showed me the papers. He bought out your mortgage."
"But that-Oh my god," Jordan says, fear creeping into her voice again. I think I just realized what was stolen." She gently guides Sarah into a chair and goes back into her office with Eliot and Hardison following after her.
"What is it?" Eliot asks as she frantically searches the room. She shuffles through three drawers and two piles of papers before finally giving up.
"The extension agreement. It's gone." Jordan slouches over the desk dejectedly. "I owe almost twenty thousand dollars and it's due on the first of the year. The bank granted an eighteen month extension, but now that Evan James is involved…" she trails off, dropping her face in her hands.
"You're going to have to tell Nate," Hardison whispers, already looking up the mystery man.
"Tell Nate what?"
"We got ourselves a job."