Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Well. No breakthroughs. Boring day.

The wind whipped at Nancy's cheeks, and she snuggled closer to Frank, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It was the day after Christmas, and she, Frank, Joe, Vanessa and Alexis were taking a walk around Bayport.

"Whose idea was this again?" Joe asked, pulling up the collar of his coat with one hand while maneuvering the stroller with the other.

"Yours, Joe," Frank laughed. "You wanted to 'keep the tradition alive', remember?"

"I was six when I though of that!" Joe exclaimed. "It's been seventeen years; you should know by now not to listen to me!"

"You insisted!" Frank shrugged.

Joe grumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, honey?" Vanessa asked, leaning over to fix Alexis's hat. She had to admit, her daughter looked like an adorable little marshmallow in her snowsuit.

"Nothing," Joe said, quickly. They continued walking down the street in a comfortable silence.

"Oh!" Nancy breathed. She came to a stop, and everyone else did the same. "That's a really pretty hotel!"

Vanessa nodded her agreement. Joe was the only one who noticed Frank's cheeks turning red, not from the cold, but from embarrassment. Joe grinned.

"Well," Joe drawled. Nancy and Vanessa looked over. "Now this brings up some memories..."

Frank's cheeks went redder, and this time everyone noticed.

"Frank?" Nancy asked. "What's wrong?"

Frank turned his head in her direction, but avoided eye contact.

"I just don't like this hotel," he said. Nancy gave him a look, a look telling him to continue.

"Why?" she finally asked. Frank looked down.

"Because that's where he first came into being!" Joe blurted. Nancy and Vanessa whipped their heads around to look at him.

"What?!" They both screeched. Joe grinned wider.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Vanessa asked, grabbing onto Joe's arm.

"When I was ten, and Frank was eleven, we were walking by the hotel on our way home from Mr. Pizza," Joe said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the pizza parlor. "And Frank said it was a really fancy looking hotel. Now, my parents kind of exchanged these silly grins before my mother oh-so-casually said, 'Oh, yes. We think you were conceived there."

"No!" Vanessa squealed. Nancy covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

"Yes!" Joe said, throwing his arms into the air. "And then Frank walked into that streetlight!"

"Oh!" Nancy let a snort of laughter out and Frank shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down.

"You walked into a lamp post?" Vanessa cried. Frank sighed and looked away.

"Well, I was surprised!" Frank exclaimed defensively. "And at least I wasn't trailing behind my parents asking what 'conceived' meant!"

"That may be," Joe admitted. "But at least I didn't have to be taken to the hospital!"

"Aw, Frankie!" Nancy laughed, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Did you hit your head?"

Vanessa tried to suppress her giggles, but one escaped from behind her mitten clad hand.

"Shut up," Frank mumbled. He began to walk forward, but swung his head around. "It really wasn't funny!"

Unfortunately, Frank walked into the damned streetlight and was thrown back onto the snowy sidewalk.

"Frank!" Nancy cried, trying not to laugh too hard. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," Frank grumbled. "I didn't hit my head this time."

"In that case..." Joe said, but broke off laughing. Vanessa and Nancy laughed as well, and a smiling Alexis started to giggle.

"Oh!" Vanessa cried. "She's laughing!"

"Has...has she ever laughed before?" Nancy asked, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Joe shook his head.

"That's new," he said, coming around to the front of the stroller and giving the top of his daughter's head a kiss.

Frank sat on the sidewalk, feeling ignored.

"Ow," he said, trying to get a reaction.

"Bless you," Nancy said as she leaned closer to Alexis.

Frank rolled his eyes.

"Did Uncle Frank hit his head?" Joe asked, and Alexis laughed again. "I'll take that as a yes..."

"My own niece is mocking me," Frank whined, getting up and walking over.

The second Frank peered over into the stroller Alexis stopped laughing and got a miserable look on her face.

"Does she not like me or something?" Frank asked, turning away from the stroller.

"She really doesn't like anyone when duty calls," Joe explained, recognizing the look on her face. He started to push the stroller again, but stopped when Nancy gasped.

"Frank! Look how much you've grown since you were eleven!" Nancy laughed, pointing to a dent on the streetlight.

Frank stormed away to the sound of laughter.

--

After stopping for hot chocolate and coffee, they decided to head over to Laura and Fenton's, as it was just around the corner.

It took less than five minutes to get there, and were welcomed in almost immediately.

"You must be freezing!" Laura exclaimed as she ushered them in.

They stripped off their coats and hats, taking a seat in the living room. Finally, Joe couldn't take it.

"Frank walked into another streetlight!" he exclaimed. Laura and Fenton turned to face their oldest son.

"Another one, Frank?" Fenton asked, shaking his head and laughing.

"No, it was the same one," Joe assured them, and Frank glared at his brother.

"Stop bringing it up!" Frank whined. Everyone laughed, including Alexis.

"Hey!" Laura exclaimed softly. "Did my beautiful grand-daughter just laugh?"

Vanessa nodded. "She did for the first time on the way here."

Joe lifted his arms towards his mother, and Laura gently took Alexis away from.

"Hi, sweetie," Laura crooned. "Can you laugh for Grandma?"

Alexis didn't give in to the request, but Laura settled for a smile.

"What a pretty baby," Laura said. "Thank you for giving me such a pretty grandchild."

"Hey, don't worry about us," Joe said, pointing to him and Vanessa. "It's Joe and Vanessa, giving you pretty babies since...three months ago."

"Well," Vanessa said, "technically it's more than three months ago..."

Nancy laughed, but then she slapped herself on the forehead.

"Oh!" she groaned.

"What is it?" Frank asked. Nancy sighed.

"Remember when I emptied my pockets at the coffee shop?" Frank nodded. "Well, I think I left my cell phone there."

"Oh," Frank said. "Do you want to go by on our way home?"

"No," Nancy said, shaking her head. "I'm waiting for a call from Dad, and he said he'd call around this time. I'll just run back and get it."

"I'll go with you," Frank said, standing up. Nancy gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pushing him back down.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes," she assured him.

"OK," Frank said, but he still looked unsure.

Nancy zipped up her jacket without another word, and waved slightly as she walked out of the house.

As she expected, it only took four or five minutes to get to the coffee shop, where they already had her cell phone waiting. She thanked the employee behind the counter, and started back towards Laura and Fenton's house.

She was walking down a quiet street, when she suddenly got the strange feeling of being watched. She shivered, remembering the last time the feeling had struck her that hard. Nancy looked around, and still wasn't satisfied when she didn't see anyone around.

She had barely moved three inches when she felt the sensation of being hit on the head.

Nancy went down hard, blinking stars out of her eyes. She rested on all fours for barely two seconds before getting up and turning around, only to find an empty street.

And then, the next thing she knew, she was being picked up from the way she had just turned away from.

The attacker had one leg between hers, and she was almost sitting on his knee. She felt his hand slip into her jacket pocket and hooked her own leg around the one through hers.

Nancy shifted her weight and turned, knocking the attacker down.

She turned around to face the attacker again, and was surprised to see that he was already on his feet.

She slipped into fighting stance and raised her foot to kick him in the stomach.

The attacker groaned, and the hood that had been covering his face fell. Nancy bit her tongue in surprise when she saw his face.

"Willy?" Nancy asked, recognizing the young boy from the Grace Hotel in L.A.

"Traci?" Willy asked, truly puzzled. "What happened to your..."

Nancy used his confusion as a break to get another kick in, and also punched him in the stomach.

Willy doubled over, and suddenly a gunshot rang out.

Nancy jumped, excepting to feel pain. But her throat went dry when she realized she was fine...Willy on the other hand...

The young boy was lying on his side, his left pant leg already soaked with blood.

"Willy!" Nancy screamed, looking around. She finally spotted a white van, parked just at the corner of two intersecting streets. She squinted to see through the tinted windshield.

A gun poked through the window, firing off more shots, and Nancy hit the ground and rolled away to avoid them.

She hit the snow, and the van squealed to life. She could hear the tires screeching past her, and for a fleeting moment as the van zoomed by, she saw a white mask peering through the window.

"Tim," she whispered, absolutely frozen.

--

Frank glanced at the clock, worried. It had been over twenty minutes, far longer than the time Nancy had told him to expect her back.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated, and he pulled it out to glance at the caller i.d. Nancy.

"Hello?" Frank answered. "Nance?"

"Frank!" Nancy sobbed into the phone. Frank was instantly alert, and on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked. "Are you OK?"

"No," Nancy cried. "Well, yes but Willy..."

"Willy?" Frank asked. "As in Iola's boyfriend slash baby daddy?"

"No!" Nancy exclaimed, keeping pressure on Willy's leg. The bullet hadn't actually hit his leg directly, but had skimmed the skin so closely that there was a huge gash in his leg. "Willy from the hotel!"

"What?" Frank asked, shaking his head. "Never mind...where are you?"

"The corner of Gleason and Parkway," Nancy said into the phone.

"I'll be right there," Frank promised.

He hung up the phone, jamming it into his pocket while pulling on his coat.

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"I think Willy got hurt," Frank said, zipping up his coat.

"Willy from the hotel?" Joe asked, getting his coat on as well.

"Apparently," Frank said, running out the door.

"We'll be back," Joe said before running after him.

Frank ran down the street, and Joe was right behind him when he stopped to see where he was.

"What's going on?" Joe asked, grabbing his arm so he wouldn't run away again. "Where are we going?"

"The corner of Gleason and Parkway," Frank said, jerking his arm away and running down the street again.

Joe shook his head before following, and in thirty seconds, they were at said corner. Frank paused, looking at Nancy, her hands covered in blood, and her face tear-streaked.

"Nancy!" he shouted. He ran up to her and fell to his knees. "What happened? Are you OK? What's going on? What's Willy doing here? Who did...?"

Nancy held up a blood stained hand to stop him.

"It was Tim," she said shakily. "He shot Willy!"

"What?!" Joe exclaimed, falling down beside Frank. "What was Tim doing here?"

"Shooting Willy!" Nancy sobbed, pressing her hands down harder. Willy let out a little moan, and his eyelids fluttered.

"How long ago did he pass out?" Frank asked moving Nancy's hands slightly to inspect the wound.

"Just before you came," Nancy said, unconsciously wiping her hands on her jeans.

"Did you call 9-1-1?" Joe asked, peering at Willy's leg. Nancy nodded.

"They should be here any second," Nancy said. Sure enough, an ambulance's siren cut through the air and came wailing down the street.

As the paramedic's loaded Willy into the back of the ambulance, Frank leaned over to Nancy.

"Are you going to tell me what Willy was doing here now?" he asked, taking one of her blood soaked hands in one of his own. Joe heard the question and walked away from the paramedic, who was now talking to a police officer.

"Well," Nancy said, looking away. "I was walking down the street, when I suddenly got the feeling I was being watched. Sure enough, less than ten seconds later, Willy is jumping me..."

"What?!" Frank exclaimed, causing the paramedics to look over. He waved them away, and they went back to business.

"Well, he smashed something into my head," Nancy said, biting her bottom lip. "And I got back up; I was kinda sitting on his lap when he attacked me the second time..."

Frank clenched and unclenched his free fist.

"...and when he was going into my pocket..." Nancy trailed off, and felt her pocket. She took her hand away when she felt that everything was there. "...I knocked him down, and kicked him."

Frank and Joe looked down at her.

"That's it?" Frank asked, squeezing her hand. Nancy nodded. "What about your head? Is it OK?"

Nancy nodded again. "Definatly not worth a trip to the hospital."

"So you two are just going to have matching goose eggs on your heads, that's all?" Joe grinned. Nancy nodded slightly.

"What an adorable couple we'll make," Frank said, causing Joe to laugh. Nancy was still silent.

"Nan? What's wrong?" Frank asked, leaning down slightly.

Nancy shook her head, tears slipping down her face.

"He was after me!" Nancy sobbed, leaning into his shoulder. "He was aiming at me! It's my fault!"
"It is not your fault," Joe said, taking Nancy's other hand. "You aren't the psycho running around shooting at people."

"But he was still aiming at me!" Nancy said, leaning further into Frank. "For a second...I was back at that video store, and Marilynn was lying there, dead..."

"That was a completely different circumstance," Frank argued. "Those guys that killed her were obsessed with you."

Nancy didn't answer. She just continued to sob quietly into Frank shoulder.

The paramedics and police pulled away from the curb, leaving Frank and Joe comforting Nancy.

One of the police officers did stop to think about how sad it was though. And how damn sad they all looked.

--

Joe, Nancy and Frank didn't bother going back to Laura and Fenton's. Instead they called the house, and went their separate ways to go home and clean up.

Frank and Nancy trudged through the snow, ignoring the looks they got at the sight of Nancy's tear streaked face, and both of their bloodied hands.

When they finally got home, without a word, Nancy locked herself in the bathroom, telling Frank she didn't want to talk.

He washed his hands off in the sink, and went over to the door anyway. He could hear her muffled sobs through the door, and was just about to knock when he saw the message light on the answering machine blinking.

Frank walked over to the phone and hit play. The first message started to play, and Frank was shocked to hear Callie's voice.

"Frank, hi, it's Callie. I know this is like the billionth message I've left you in the past couple days, but I wanted to tell you that Ned and I have gone home. We wanted to spend Christmas with our families, and it was clear you were avoiding us. Now listen, I kinda overheard you and Nancy talking in the elevator, and I have to say, she was being really bitchy to you. Although I was surprised to hear her say you hadn't proposed yet...I could have sworn Vanessa told me you did... Anyway, I'm really sorry if you had to end it. Give me a call if you did, OK?"

As Callie rattled off her number, Frank stood in shock. Angrily, he stopped the next message from playing and picked up the phone.

He punched in the number Callie had just told him and walked towards the kitchen.

"Hello?" Callie answered, sounding cheerful.

"Callie, it's Frank," he grumbled. You could almost hear Callie perk up even more over the phone.

"Frank! Hi," Callie exclaimed. "I guess you got my message...does that mean...?"

"No, it does not mean Nancy and I are broken up," Frank snapped. "In fact, we're engaged, and better than ever. I don't know what you were thinking would happen, but trust me, it's not."

"But Frank," Callie said. "I still love you." Frank froze.

"Bye Callie," Frank said gruffly before hanging up.

Frank stared at the phone in his hand for a long time before putting it down. She still LOVED him? What?!

Frank shook the thought out of his head. He didn't care. She was the one who broke up with him. He honestly did love Nancy more than anything in the world, and Callie was an idiot to think she could change that.

--

Tim sat at his desk, facing a boy with a scowl on his face.

"Now, now, William," Tim scolded. "Don't look so angry." The young boy shook his head in anger.

"I have every right to be angry!" Willy shouted. "First, you kill my father..."

"He was useless. He brought me the wrong bear," Tim responded, leaning back in his chair.

"...then..." Willy continued as if he hadn't heard Tim. "You make me do your evil henching, just because my FATHER had a debt to pay. You threatened my family, my friends, ME..."

"Calm down," Tim hushed. "As long as you got the micro-chip in her pocket, everything is going as planned."

"Yeah, I got it in her pocket," Willy spat. "Right before she punched me and you shot me!"

"You were being beaten up by a girl," Tim said, getting annoyed.

"You didn't have to SHOOT me!" Willy exclaimed. Tim sighed.

"I had to get out of there at some point," Tim explained. "I needed a distraction.

"Still..." Willy began.

"William," Tim growled, leaning forward. "I would really hate for you to have to same fate as your father..."

Willy's mouth went dry as he heard a gun cock under the desk.

"So please, calm down," Tim said, and Willy nodded. Tim gave a small smile from under his mask. "As long as she doesn't know she has the micro-chip, we can get them to do anything. Anything at all..."

--

It was three days later when Joe Hardy checked his mail. He had just come back from having breakfast with Nancy, Frank, Vanessa and his daughter. Nancy was still a little shaky, after the Willy incident, but otherwise seemed fine. But Joe could see something haunting her, a dark shadow in her eyes.

He whistled a tune as he unlocked the mailbox and opened the door.

Inside were some bills, an ad, and a fancy looking envelope.

On the outside of the envelope, which had no stamp or return address, the familiar writing of Tim stuck out.

'Security will be tight,' he had written. 'That's while you'll need one of these to get in...'

Curious, Joe opened the envelope. Inside was an invitation to a gala at the Louvre, in France. It was for an art benefit, and all donations would go to needy children. From the sounds of the invitation, Joseph Hardy (hopefully Tim) had made a rather charitable donation.

Joe sucked in a deep breath and looked around.

France. Louvre. Gala. Art.

Joe scanned the invitation, but there was nothing else written. He looked at the envelope one more time, and shook it. A scrap piece of paper fell out, and Joe recognized the writing again.

'Hold the room at gunpoint. Ms. Drew will slip away. The painting is in a locked vault. She has the key as of now.'

Joe took another deep breath. That definatly was not good.

A/N: Hey, I'm done! The chapter, I mean.

And for all I know, this is a fictional gala. Don't try to get yourself invited, because I just made that up.

Please review. I promise I'll dedicate the next chapter to the first person who reviews!!