I collapse onto the hotel bed, legs still dangling over the edge as I stare at Hardison across the room. The weight of what I just realized hangs heavy in the air between us - the truth I've finally put into words. "We should make it official," I repeat, my voice more intense than usual even to my own ears.

Hardison sets his laptop aside and crosses the room, sitting in front of me so I have to look directly at him. My blood rushes to my cheeks, turning them pink from the awkward angle of my head hanging off the mattress. "What's happening here, Parker?" he asks softly, searching my face.

"You like him too," I state plainly, watching as something shifts in his eyes - surprise, then realization, then something else I can't quite name.

Hardison opens his mouth to argue, then pauses. I see the moment everything clicks into place for him, the way understanding transforms his features as he thinks back through years of interactions with Eliot. The lingering touches, the way his voice changes when they banter, the tightness in his chest when Eliot gets hurt on jobs.

"Oh my God," he says slowly, looking at me with newfound clarity. "Oh my God." He shakes his head in disbelief. "How did I not see this?"

"You weren't looking," I say simply, because that's the truth. We've been so focused on each other, so comfortable in what we have, that we didn't notice what was right in front of us all along. The third piece that completes our little family.

"We practically invite him on half our dates anyway," I continue, sitting up suddenly. Hardison jumps back to avoid collision with my forehead. "You run the pub with him. We're already dating him, Hardison. Why not make it real?"

The intensity in my voice surprises even me, but this feels right - more right than anything has in a long time.

Hardison sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "We don't even know if he likes us back, babe. What if this ruins everything?"

"He likes us," I say with certainty, because I've seen the way he looks at us when he thinks we're not watching - the same way Hardison used to look at me before we got together, like we're something precious he's afraid to break. "He watches us, Hardison. And he lets us touch him. When was the last time you saw him let anyone else touch him like that?"

Hardison doesn't answer, just thinks. I can see his mind working through memories, reinterpreting interactions through this new lens. The silence stretches between us, thick with possibility.

Finally, he meets my eyes again. "You really want to do this?"

I nod, a slow smile spreading across my face as I see he's considering it seriously.

"What if we get jealous? What if it distracts us on jobs?" he asks, listing the practical concerns that have undoubtedly occurred to him.

"We won't," I say confidently. "Love isn't finite, Hardison. Having more people to care about doesn't mean caring less about each other. It means more. Like... more diamonds."

Hardison laughs at my comparison, but it's nervous laughter, the kind that means he's considering something risky.

"And honestly?" I add, lowering my voice and letting a playful smile spread across my face as I let my hand drift down his arm, "the idea of watching you two together? It gets me really hot."

Hardison's breath catches, his eyes darkening with desire as he imagines it too. He swallows hard, and I know he's going to say yes before the words even leave his mouth.

"Okay," he says finally. "Let's do this."

"Great!" I lean in to kiss him hard, then sit up quickly. "You should go get him."

"Now?" he looks startled.

"Yes, now," I say firmly. "He's hurt, recovering from being shot twice protecting us. He shouldn't be alone. And we shouldn't invade his space all at once - let him feel safe."

Hardison gets to his feet with a wince, still sore from the job. I grin and smack him across the ass, enjoying the way his breath catches and heat immediately pools in his eyes.

"Go get him," I repeat, shooing him toward the door.