By the time Eliot and Hardison return the cabin is dark except for the Christmas tree and the glowing embers in the fireplace. Nate and Sophie have disappeared to their rooms, but Parker is curled up asleep on the couch.
"Let me do the talking tomorrow," Eliot reminds Hardison. "Don't try to help me."
"You should let Jordan do the talking," he disagrees. "She should bring that little girl. No way Nate could say no to them."
"We are not exploiting a seven year old!"
"But she's got the big eyes and the cast," Hardison reasons. "Nate'll be jelly."
"I have a plan. Just keep quiet and let me handle it," Eliot says, rubbing his eyes.
"I think we should have a signal in case you want me to turn on the snowman again."
Eliot doesn't reply, but expels a deep breath through gritted teeth. He gives a weary good night as he ascends the stairs. In his absence, Hardison moves to Parkers still form.
'She sleeps like she's never had a bad dream,' he muses, taking a seat on the remaining third of the couch she is occupying. As he watches her in the fire's dying light, he starts to plan out exactly how he should propose.
Sophie told him not to put the ring in food and above all he should speak from the heart. Nate had already warned him that any speech he planned would be forgotten instantly. And, after his talk with Eliot, he decided that a grand public proposal was out of the question. No telling how his little wildcard would respond.
'It has to be unique to Parker,' he brainstorms. He considers a rooftop outing, but soon scraps the idea because all of the buildings in this rinky-dink little town are two stories or less. The idea occurs to him to put it in a safe and have her crack it. He wonders if she'll be disappointed to find just one little ring in a big safe and no money. Seeing her disappointment wasn't really something his self esteem could handle.
"How long have you been there?" Parker asks groggily. She rolls onto her back and stretches her legs across Hardison's lap.
"Not long," He replies. Not long enough to finish his plan. "I was wrong about the Charlie Brown tree. It looks good."
"I know," she says proudly. "You were right about the angel, though. It almost tipped over when I put her on top."
"It looks pretty stable now…"
"The angel isn't technically on the tree," Parker explains. "She's suspended by fishing line from the rafters."
"You MacGuyvered Christmas?" Hardison laughs. "I'm glad you're the wildcard," he says leaning closer to her.
"I'm glad you're a steady paycheck."
"Am I supposed to know what that means?" He asks, pulling back in confusion.
"Sophie says that some loves are like lotteries," She says matter-of-factly. "You get a lump sum and when it's gone, it's gone."
"Not us?"
"Nope. We're like working for a paycheck. There's always more on the way."
"I like that."
"Me too."
"You tired?" Hardison asks. She murmurs an affirmative, but doesn't attempt to get up. "Come on, let's go to bed."
"No, I can't move," she protests as he tries to heave both of them off the couch. "I'm too tired," she whines, pulling him back down with her.
"You need a bed," he insists. "We've got to get to work tomorrow. I need you well rested."
"We have a job?" Parker says perking up slightly.
Hardison nods but refuses to divulge the details. "You'll get the rundown tomorrow just like everybody else. I can't be giving you special treatment. It's downright unprofessional."
"Please," she begs, but he holds steady. "Just a summary and then we can go to bed."
"Fine," he concedes. "Richie Rich likes to slap his girl around, so she ran to Jordan's shelter and now he's buying the place out from under her just so this girl will come crawling back to him."
"So what do you think we'll do?"
"I don't know. Maybe the Kansas City Shuffle or…the Fisherman's Noose." He snaps his fingers theatrically. "I got it! The Venetian Flush."
"Do you know what any of those are?" Parker asks skeptically.
"Nah, I just made 'em up," he admits. "They sound good though, don't they?"
"The Venetian Flush definitely has potential."
"Let's go. Bed. We had a deal," Hardison demands. This time when he moves to stand, she lets him, then takes the hand he offers.
"Sophie thinks we'll be together for ten years," Parker informs him abruptly.
"Just ten years?" he replies casually, suppressing a grin. She beams as they make their way through the dark house.
"Wait!" Parker whispers frantically. She stops, rooted firmly to the spot and tugs Hardison back to face her.
"What is it?" he asks in concern.
"Mistletoe." She looks up at the little bundle dangling from the timber rafters above their heads. Hardison pulls Parker close and happily complies with the tradition.
Just a little bit of fluff to tide you over. much more to come.