A/n: and here ya go. Sorry it took so long, that fever knocked me for a loop. Doing much better now no headache for like 2 whole days wooT. I have had some requests to jot down the actual shooting. I might, someday, but I am not feeling any huge desire to do so as the shooting itself was not really relevant to the story I was trying to share. it was merely a catalyst. However as I was fleshing out the last chapter my muse whacked me upside the head with a smidgen of an idea. I have decided to delve really really deep into Frank's psyche and analysze why he has been such a busybody. and even though I am a diehard Joeette, I have no qualms about putting Big Brother through the proverbial wringer emotionally. bwahahahaha.

Chapter 7

November 22nd

Dear Diary: didya miss me? I realize that it's been a while.. over 6 months in fact, but I am sure you will remember the only reason I wrote in your pages was because I was forced to. Nothing personal, you understand, but pouring out my innermost feelings was never my thing. Besides, journals are for girls, right? I mean Iola had one. Several actually, from the time she was about 10 or so. How do I know this, you ask? Well it's simple really. They are all in a box in my closet. Mrs M called me over to the farm one afternoon a couple of months after the funeral. She handed me a big box of Iola's things, including her journals. Said she wanted me to have the things that meant the most to her daughter. How do you respond to that? I haven't looked at em. Seems a violation of sorts. But some days, it's hard to resist the temptation to be close to her again.

Okay, enough of the maudlin crap. Dr Suitland called out of the blue the other day. Said he wanted to see how I was doing. Asked if I had kept up with the writing. I considered telling a little white lie but something stopped me. Prolly because he reminds me of Dad sometimes. Never could fool Dad. I can still occasionally get away with putting one past Frank. Anywho, once I admitted my failure to continue with that aspect of my therapy, he asked about the other stuff. Well, I ditched the cane about 2 months ago but still not doing heavy field work. Just light stuff, like knocking on doors and the like.

Don't mind it too much cuz Dad was pretty cool about the whole thing. He makes sure I go out alone, without a babysitter. He has come up with some really creative ways to keep Frank out of my way.

Frank..Frank.. what do I say about my brother? I honestly really thought he had turned over a new leaf. Boy was I ever wrong. Oh sure at first he was cool. Less with the hovering and junk. But as I grew stronger he started up again with the pressure. Kept bugging me to move back in with him. It got really bad and even Mom had to tell him to back off once or twice. She gave this big shpiel about how she wasn't ready to let me go just yet and that she missed cooking for such a hearty appetite yada yada yada. But after one such conversation I caught her looking at me. She winked. My mother, stretcher of the truth. She later confided that she didn't mind leftovers once in a while since that gave her a day off from the kitchen. So I stopped having thirds at dinner...

But he wouldn't let go. Worse than a dog with a bone, I swear. I was rapidly approaching violent eruption( yeah I admit it, I have a temper. As if you didn't know. Pppbbbtht. ) Once again Dad saved the day. Although I am not entirely certain he didn't get the idea from Mom in the first place.

In a fit of absolute genius/deviousness, Dad declared that he was renting office space downtown. Said he had too much work and needed the extra space so that Sam could finally have his own desk. But the kicker? It came with an apartment upstairs! Oh but that ain't the best bit. You are gonna love this.

Dad decided he wanted a full time presence in the building, you know just because of all the sensitive information he kept in the safe and his desk. So he gave me the keys to the apartment. The ONE bedroom apartment. As is no room for big brothers to move in. I think I swooned. I spent 5 years in the Navy. That means I had 35 roommates. We slept 3 high in racks that were not even twin sized. I had a 6 inch clearance above my head. At least half snored. Loudly. An entire apartment all to myself? Oh hell yes.

I knew Frank never really meant what he had said about backing off when I heard him argue with Dad for a solid hour. I suppose I should be flattered he gives such a damn, but I ain't. I am pissed. and hurt. Hurt that he really doesn't trust me. Dad keeps trying to get him to back off, always sending him out with Sam on 2 man jobs. Gives me the freedom to screw up. And screw up I have. I have lost people I was supposed to be tailing. I have gotten caught red handed trying to jimmy a lock. All stuff that Dad has confided in me that Frank was guilty of as well when he first started. Apparently that gives him license to dictate to me how I should do stuff under the guise of 'don't make the same mistakes I did'. Yeah, right. I don't think so. Homey don't play that.

Drives me absolutely batty. But he's Frank My big brother, the guy who checked under the bed for monsters when I was four. The one who risked death and dismemberment to pull me from a burning building. He who held my hand in the middle of the night as I detoxed off of Morphine. Sometimes I think maybe this is all my fault. I took too long to grow up and flee the nest. Now he's old and set in his ways and can't change.

Oh hell, I'm maudlin again aren't I . And I need to put on a smile and play nice. Mom outdid herself for Thanksgiving this year. 26 pound bird. Ten pounds of potatoes. 2 pans of stuffing. She could feed the neighborhood. Oh wait, she is. The entire gang is coming over. Hell, even Phil is in town with his new fiance and has promised to bring her over to meet us. If she doesn't run screaming into the night after 20 minutes with all of us in the same room together, she's very brave. Either that or he forewarned her...

Gotta go, I am swinging by the store to pick up the beer on my way.

November 23rd

Me again. I know; 2 days in a row. Iola would be so proud. Dr S would probably faint from the shock. Survived Thanksgiving. Did come close to decking Frank twice, but Mom distracted me once and Chet the second time. I am glad we stayed close, even after..well, you know. He could have easily blamed me and hated me for the rest of our lives but he doesn't, and for that I am forever grateful. Oh, and I owe some credit to Phil, who kept Frank distracted talking shop instead of trying to make pointed comments in my general direction. A guy couldn't ask for a better set of close friends.

Yeah I know it's coming from a place of love. But what's that saying? "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours." and the corollary.." If it doesn't, hunt it down and browbeat it into submission?" or something like that. I have seen posters. It's just so damn frustrating that I can't get through to him. Or maybe I am and he's choosing to disregard it anyway. In my next life I either want all sisters, or to be an only child. I'll name the dog Frank.

December 17th

Okay first off, Winter sucks. Think my blood thinned in Yokosuka. Never gets much below freezing there and it hardly ever snows. Plus all those cruises to places like Thailand and white sandy beaches...oh yeah baby. But Bayport? Yoikes. Snowdrifts four feet high. Temps in single digits. Windchill factor below zero. But there is a silver lining. Storms have been so bad the last few days that Frank can't get into the office. Bonus no tension so thick you can cut it with a dull butter knife. My commute? About as long as it takes to run down 2 flights of stairs. In fact more than once I have forgotten to put shoes on and have shown up for work in slippers. Oops.

Not like we are swamped with cases anyway. Too cold even for the bad guys. So cold in fact that Mom has been laying on the hints pretty thick. Apparently I owe her for having to cut her vacation to Hawai'i short back in April. Yes, Mom I deliberately stepped in front of a gun and let myself get shot three times( it hurt) just to ruin your luau aspirations. Dad is even ganging up on me! Such a betrayal cuts me to the quick. Until Sam fessed up. Dad is going to come too but he is leaving Frank in charge. Officially it is because he wants Frank to get some experience in the running of the whole business. But Sam privately told me that was only half the reason. He doesn't want Frank inviting himself along under the pretext of a family vacation. According to Sam, there have been multiple 'conversations' between my father and my brother about me. Even Dad is reaching the end of his rope. Unfortunately Sam is nothing if not loyal and he refuses to give me any details. Brat. Hmm. Wonder if I can still fit into my bathing suit...

December 28th

Wow. Christmas in Hawai'i. Palm trees decked out with tinsel. Very surreal. All that griping Mom did about wanting me to show her around? Funny how she and dad disappeared and I hardly ever saw them except at dinner. And half the time they skipped that too. I swear if I end up with a little sister in 9 months heads will roll. Frank was actually tolerable. Only one text a day and the three calls he did make were directly work related. I am impressed. Maybe he can be trained after all...

April 17th

Wow. What a difference a year makes. My name is Joe Hardy and one year ago today I got shot. Three times. It hurt. The scar on my chest from the open heart surgery is almost sexy. My shoulder still aches when it rains, but I can still pitch a mean fast ball. Can't even see the one from my abdomen really. There was no trial. The shooter sang like a canary and offered up names and places and dates and enough evidence to bring down one of the more violent gangs in the tri state area. I was initially peeved, having lost damn near a a year of my life because of that lowlife, but Dad told me that giving him a lighter sentence more than made up for the end of the gang as a credible threat. So I didn't have to testify, and he got charged with assault with a deadly weapon, which he pleaded guilty to and went away for 5 years. All in all, a win for the Good Guys.

Frank..oh I dunno. I can tell he's trying.. really hard. In fact I swear sometimes I see the wheels turning and he mentally stops himself from going too far. When his lease was coming due for renewal he asked me once if I wanted to move in. Just the once. I demurred, cuz I really like living alone. Besides, you think the Odd Couple were polar opposites when it came to living habits? It's a miracle the bathroom we shared growing up survived being the buffer zone between us. To give him credit, he never bugged me again and 2 weeks later told me Chet was moving in instead.

We've been working together more and more. It's been nice, he does know a lot more than I do and I like learning from him. (Just never tell him that.) In fact I think we have 4 cases going on currently. Including one Dad is bringing us in on now even though it's just about over. Kidnapping case. Frank and I are going to be hopefully finding Frisk's son. At least that's the plan.

Hopefully this will be a Hannibal Smith Plan. I love it when they come together.

A/n: can we say segue? Guess I decided where in the timeline Cave In falls, huh. Nobody has mentioned it, but I thought I would share my reasoning behind a certain repetitious phrase throughout DD and the POV stories. Joe may be macho and stuff but he is not above trollling for sympathy when it suits him. and when he flashes those big baby blues at you from under lashes any supermodel in the world would kill for, admit it. you are more than appy to oblige. Hope you enjoyed this!