A/N: This is a little what-if I thought of and thought it would make a good story. I don't own the Hardy Boys in anyway possible.

Frantic knocking echoed through the house. It echoed strangely off the walls and clashed with the rhythm of the pouring rain outside. The weather matched the mood of the Hardy house perfectly: melancholy, grey, and hopeless. Again, the knocking echoed through the nearly empty house until Frank Hardy decided to answer it.

"Frank! Frank Hardy! Um…Mrs. Hardy? Er...Mr. Hardy?" shouted a female voice. She swore and then started to talk frantically. "No, come on. Stay with me Blondie! Fight it until we get help!"

There was a groan in response and she said, "Don't worry, someone should be home. I hope…"

Frank came down and slowly came over to the door. Unlocking it, he opened it a crack and saw an unfamiliar girl supporting someone's whose face was hidden, yet they looked very familiar.

"Yes?" he asked a little bit coldly as he examined the girl. She was a brunette with her hair hanging down to her shoulders in different layers. Her eyes were a brown-ish, grey color and occasionally flickered gold in the light. Her clothes consisted of a big grey sweatshirt and torn jeans. She tried to pry the door open wider, but he stopped it.

"Please let me in!" she pleaded and looked worriedly at the person next to her. "Joe is…he's…sick," she finished lamely after many pauses. The person's head rolled and revealed it was in fact Joe. His breathing was labored and his face was white.

Shock and suspicion rolled through Frank. Yes, his brother was back after being missing for so long and still alive, but the phrase from childhood "Don't trust strangers" went through his head. He opened the door wider and she hobbled in, supporting Joe

"Who are you?" he asked her as she walked towards the dining room and surveyed it before setting Joe in a chair.

Frank could see the conflict in her when she was silent for a minute before saying, "Rosaline Ambrose. We're going to need the table," and busied herself with clearing off the table. Frank helped her, and his eyes strayed to his motionless little brother.

"Why not the bed? He's sick right? Shouldn't that be better for him?" asked Frank, his arms crossed and face emotionless.

Rosaline laughed darkly and said, "Tables are less expensive than a whole new room. I promise I'll buy you a new table, just don't ask questions right now…"

She picked Joe up and laid him carefully onto the table and started to head towards the kitchen. Frank followed her and saw her rummaging through his pantry, occasionally throwing stuff behind her. He coughed and she quickly hid something behind her back. Her face was, red, but defiant.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and started to pick things up and place them haphazardly inside the shelf. The hidden item feel into view: the box of Frosted Flakes with Tony the Tiger grinning at them. "I'll just put everything back and…" She stopped talking once her stomach rumbled.

Sighing, Frank walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a bowl and the milk from the fridge. Rosaline hesitated before placing the cereal on the counter. I need to contact Dad, he thought as Rosaline poured cereal into the bowl.

He casually slid his hand into his pocket while Rosaline rummaged around for a spoon. Both of them smiled and had their eyes sparkling with triumph. Each of them had found what they were looking for Rosaline, a spoon, and Frank, his cell phone. He stealthily turned around and headed towards the dinning room.

"Remove your cell phone from your pocket," said Rosaline softly, her eyes darting between his hand and his face. "or I will have to hurt you."

He mentally cursed himself and his lack of subtlety while he slowly turned back to face Rosaline. His face was in a strained smile as he removed his cell phone from his pocket and held it up. He followed her gestures to place it in front of her and set it down.

For a beat they both stared at it until Joe groaned from in the dining room. The hardness in Rosaline's face softened, although she still eyed Frank with distrust. She pretty much sprinted to the dining room with Frank right behind her.

"It's too soon," she muttered and looked out a window. The light outside was fading and Rosaline's body tensed, her eyes foreboding. She slowly turned towards Frank, eyes closed and every muscle in her body signaling that whatever she needed to do was going to happen unwillingly.

The feeling that he was also going to hate the next moment flashed through his body as she came reallyclose to him.

"Please forgive me, Frank," she said and pressed her lips against his.