Author's note:

This story is a sequel to Recollection and Regret, and less directly a sequel to Charades, although it is set several years later. Frank and Joe are working for their father as part of a now officially family detective agency. Reading the previous stories will certainly be helpful in terms of figuring out the OC's involved, but brief explanations will be offered here, so you can likely read this one alone if you like. All of my stories are written in the same time line except Tread Softly, which was a story contest one shot. This story isn't fully written yet, and as many of you know, I had a serious health issue last year and am just getting back into the swing of writing. Posting schedule is likely to be irregular but will likely average once a week. Reviews keep me writing as I am very appreciative of you taking the time to comment. Without further ado...

Chapter 1

"Frank?" Joe sat down on the concrete steps beside his brother, quietly offering an oversized mug. He suppressed a sigh when his sibling continued to stare at his feet, ignoring the drink.

The nearly silent daybreak stretched on, a few birds beginning a soft chatter as the pewter sky lightened to a rose infused periwinkle. Fallen leaves swirled in soggy circles in the breeze, suggesting the prior day's waterworks would return, but for now the damp chill of the late autumn morning confined itself to a low lying fog. Rain out over the bay, no doubt.

Dawn resolved into pale silver with a residual smudge of salmon before the older brother moved. Even then it was simply to collect the now tepid coffee, mechanically taking a sip. Eventually the empty mug was discarded, ceramic clinking slightly against the cement.

Joe extended long legs out in front of him, stiff on the uncomfortable stairway. "More coffee?"

There was a noticeable lag before he got an answer. "Huh? …Oh, no thanks."

Doves settled into the maple across the narrow lawn and the morning fog cleared a bit, the ethereally hovering tree once again earthbound as the lowest segment of the trunk became visible. Vague noise from the front half of the apartment building suggested the pair was no longer alone in the world, but no one was likely to come their way. The rear doors led only to the strip of grass and a few weather-beaten picnic tables, both abandoned with the last of Indian summer a few weeks ago. Well, and to a phenomenally appealing set of concrete steps, of course. Steps so nice you could spend the whole night sitting on them for no apparent reason… just ask Frank.

A grey and white mound of fur emerged from below the steps, blinking at the intruders in her domain before bounding up onto the picnic tables to absorb what meager light the day provided. The cat's baleful stare eventually subsided into mere tail twitches interspersed with more peaceful napping. Apparently she'd decided the young men on the stoop weren't a direct threat, but no self-respecting stray feline would fail to acknowledge their presence without a degree of disdain.

"You're going to be late."

Joe startled slightly, having resigned himself to silence. "Late for what?"

Frank made a half dismissive gesture with one hand. "For whatever you planned on doing today."

That earned the older sibling a snort. "Whatever I planned on doing?... You know, Frank, I thought I'd spend my day sitting on this step."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

Joe nodded. "Sure, why not. Damp, chilly, November day, I woke up at five thirty AM, said to myself there has to be a nice, hard, cold bit of concrete somewhere in Bayport I can sit on until my behind's numb and the rest of me turns blue… and half an hour later, here I was in my own little corner of heaven. Been awesome ever since."

"And the only concrete in the entire town where you could achieve this utopia just happened to be at my apartment?" Frank picked the coffee mug back up, peering in the bottom.

"Yep, exactly." Joe shifted again, trying to get a better look at his brother without being too obvious about it. The brunette hair had more waves than usual, complements of the wet weather, and the dark coffee-toned eyes had the glazed appearance of a man who hadn't slept in days. Weeks possibly. Deep blue-grey smudges beneath them seemed to confirm that. Stubble was starting to be an inaccurate term for the dark hair gracing his jawline. It didn't quite qualify as a beard, but it certainly wasn't regulation Frank. "The thing is, we're not at your apartment."

"Huh?"

"Do you know that's the second time this morning I've gotten huh as an answer?" Joe swiveled around, no longer trying to pretend he wasn't assessing his sibling.

Frank plunked the cup back down with rather more force than he'd intended. "It's too early for games. If you have a point, Joe, make it."

"Your apartment is either up five flights or one very cranky elevator ride away, not out here in the cold. I can assure you that if you were in it sleeping, I wouldn't have such a new found affection for these stairs."

"What I do at night really isn't any of your" Frank abruptly cut himself off, the harsh tone to the words dissipating like the fog. He turned to face Joe before he spoke again, drawing in a long, slow breath. "How'd you know I wasn't?"

"Because even your neighbors worry about you, bro. Mrs. Schuler called me."

"Her dog again?"

Joe nodded. Frank's elderly neighbor and her equally elderly basset hound were somewhat of a neighborhood legend. If not for Frank's frequently nocturnal line of work and the dog's bladder issues, the building probably wouldn't need a nighttime doorman. "She saw you outside about two o'clock. When you were still there at five-thirty, she called me. Said she saw you out last night, too."

The muttered 'busybody' was halfhearted. "I can't sleep."

"Obviously." Joe stood, stretching. "I think Dad and I were wrong about a few days off."

Frank laughed, a dry half hysterical chuckle. "I could have told you that. In fact, I did tell you."

"Sorry." Joe rubbed his palms across his thighs, chilled through. "It's just that last assignment was beyond awful and you've been working twice as much as either of us since… um… since summer."

The chuckle was back, even less reminiscent of humor than before. "You can say it, you know. Since Callie left."

"Yeah."

The silence grew, more comfortable now but still avoidance of a long overdue discussion. "If some time off isn't the answer, what do you think is?"

The elder of the pair shrugged. "I don't know. More work or something different or… Maybe… no… I truly don't know. Extra time to think is only making everything worse, though, ok?"

"Ok, then. Tomorrow morning it's back to the office for you." Joe stretched, popping his spine in a lanky skyward reach before extending a hand. "Come on."

Frank sat another full minute before shrugging again and allowing his younger sibling to pull him to his feet. He was half inside the glass door to the lobby before Joe's answer fully registered. "Tomorrow? What's wrong with today?"

"Today?" Joe sounded genuinely surprised. "Well… One, it's Sunday. Two, it's your birthday and Mom is expecting us at the house."

"Huh?"

Joe stopped in his tracks. "That's three, Frank."

"Three?" Splayed fingers raked through brunette hair in a confused gesture. "Oh. Sorry, I guess I do need some sleep. Third strike for addle brain."

"You really forgot your birthday, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I know Mom baked your cake already; she sent me out for those mini chocolate chips you like yesterday." Joe crossed the lobby and pushed the elevator button. "I don't see you getting out of a party."

"Great. Just great."

*aldp*aldp*aldp*aldp*aldp*aldp*aldp*

"Uggh. I may actually die."

"No one told you to eat enough for both of us, Joe." Frank stretched and stifled a yawn.

"Mom was having a hard-enough time pretending you weren't half asleep at the table. Couldn't really expect her to ignore you not eating, too."

A small smile escaped the brunette. "So, your answer was to pile my plate with a giant slice of chocolate cake, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, enough fudge sauce to float a ship, and then keep sneaking bites of it?"

"Hey, two bites of that went to Nessa. Not like I was a total pig."

"Riiiigggght, Wilbur. You keep believing that." Frank leaned further back into the cushions of his grey sofa, inexplicably blending in.

"Wilbur? What?... Oh, Charlotte's Web." Joe leaned toward his brother, both elbows on his knees. "You going to be okay going back to work in the morning?"

Frank shrugged. "Dad still on the paperwork catch up kick?"

"Yep."

"Then I can't see it being any different from staying here, just less time for extraneous thinking."

"Not sure I'd call your thinking extraneous, exactly." Joe returned the shrug. "Maybe more redundantly repetitive in this case."

"That's the same thing. You can be redundant or repetitive, not both."

"Whatever." The blond sighed, absently tapping his steepled fingers against one another. "You're thinking about Callie all the time you aren't in the middle of anything that isn't essentially having your hair on fire, hence the redundancy, and you keep doing it over and over. That's repetitive."

"I'm not ready to really talk about Callie, ok? I wasn't there when she needed me, and she left. It's my fault as much as it's hers."

"No, Frank, it's not! I know how hurt she had to be when her parents died, but you didn't even know that it had happened. The timing was awful, but it's part of what you are. You can't always be available or in touch."

"Yeah, I'm something that can't be what she needed!" Frank's voice rose a little, but that paled compared to his brother.

"Something that you have always been! When was the last time you considered not being a detective or investigator?"

"I, um…" The brunette stopped, thinking. "I wanted to run the New York City Zoo once."

"When?!"

"I was four."

"Four. So basically never. And she knew that! Everyone who knows us knows that. But when it came down to it, she needed you to change. That's not fair."

"She knew it wasn't fair, Joe. That's why she's gone." The indignant spark was gone, replaced again with sorrowful resignation.

"Frank, I think…"

"Let it go, Joe." Frank stood, wandering to stare out the window at nothing. "If I'm going to be in the office tomorrow, I should get some sleep."

The younger Hardy waited for a full minute, dialing back the anger that threatened to fully erupt at his would-be sister-in-law before speaking again in a much calmer tone. "Yeah, you should. Will you?"

The brunette actually pondered that before he answered, somehow not noticing the subtle shake of his head. "I honestly don't know. I'll try."

To be continued: