"What?" Hardison's voice rose with indignation and disbelief, heralding his arrival into the living room.
Eliot followed after. "I told you man, the heat's not working!"
"Oh, I heard you," Hardison replied, gesturing angrily. "I just can't believe, that after the worst job we have ever pulled, this is the time when the heat stops working!"
"I don't mind," Parker said from where she was curled into the arm of one of the lounges. She gave them both a sudden grin. "It's cosy."
Hardison looked at her, and the blankets she had somehow already gathered together into a cave encompassing their entire lounge. He then turned to look at Eliot, who was already muttering about hot chocolate "with real chocolate, not that powdered mix, Parker!"
A grin grew on his face. "Alright. I can work with that."
Twenty minutes later he was sitting in the blanket cave, Eliot on the other side of it, and Parker cuddled between them, all huddled close to conserve heat. Each were holding a mug of thick hot chocolate, Spencer special, made with real chocolate and tiny marshmallows floating on top. Despite the heat still being out, Hardison didn't feel cold at all.