Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

This story was originally written in the early 2000s. There are many technological differences from today's world. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.

September Reprise

By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA

Chapter 20

Danielle Tanner watched in horror as objects started rocketing through the air, propelled through the broken windows of the art center with terrifying force. She dropped into a crouch and shielded her head with her arms, sheltering near the smaller fire truck as pieces of wood, paint containers, chunks of plaster, art supplies of all sorts, rained down on them. Explosions rocked the air, some small, merely 'pops,' and others massive enough to cause people to stagger where they stood. She winced at the noise, and wished she had her fire helmet!

KA-BOOM! Dani found herself sitting on the ground, knocked down by the concussive effect of the latest blast. Wow, that was a big one! She looked around, and saw another hail of large and small objects hurtle downwards…and saw something hit Jack Wayne with sharp impact, knocking him staggering backward off his feet!

"JACK!" Dani was screaming his name and running to his side before she realized it, fear warring with anger inside her. NO, you can't do this! she raged silently. I just met him! I'm not going to lose him already! Someone had set this fire, and someone was responsible for hurting Jack – her Jack, doggone it! Maybe she'd just met him, but he was the first interesting guy she'd encountered – who was interested in return! – in what seemed like a very long time. I can't believe how fast he got to me, but there's no use fighting it; I'm hooked, and I'm not going to back off now!

Dani knelt beside Jack and took a look at him – and heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn't unconscious. He did look very dazed, however, and there was a small gash on the side of his forehead, where he'd been struck.

"Jack? You okay? Just lie still," she said soothingly.

He blinked rapidly, and squinted up at her. "Somehow, 'lie still, Jack,' doesn't make me feel awfully reassured," he muttered. Disregarding her words, he attempted to struggle up onto an elbow – until she put a hand against his chest and pushed him back down.

"Stay put until one of the pros can come look you over," she ordered firmly. "There's never a medic around when you need one," she added with some irritation, glancing over her shoulder. "You might be hurt worse than it looks, you know."

"I'm fine, really!" Jack protested. "I'm more stunned than anything else. I wasn't expecting to get hit by a building, after all!"

She smiled as she picked up something off the ground – the business end of a long paintbrush! "I hate to disappoint you, but you didn't get beaned by a building, or even part of a building. You got beaned by a No. 10 paintbrush!" The smile widened as she put the offending article into his hands. "See? There's the number." She indicated the remains of the gold-etched '10' still visible near the end of the wooden handle.

Jack looked at the brush and groaned. "It figures," he muttered, letting his hand fall to his side. "I get hurt because of an explosion, but do I get hit by something exciting, like a brick, or glass? No, I get hit by a paintbrush! I'll never live this one down."

Dani eyed him somewhat severely. "Getting hit by glass or a brick might have been more exciting, but it also would have damaged you a lot more," she reproved. "Besides, maybe no one else has to find out about it – at least, not right away." Her severe expression softened into a teasing smile. "Now stay quiet a little longer."

Jack groaned again, softly, but managed to smile in return, and he obediently stopped trying to sit up. This girl is just too fantastic! How did I manage to luck out like this, finding the most wonderful girl in the world right here in Bayport?

Dani was examining the cut on his head now, touching the area with cautious, gentle fingers. "This doesn't look too bad," she murmured. "I can get one of the little kits from the truck, and patch it up myself. But I still want the paramedics to look at you – if they think it needs stitches, you'll have to go to the hospital; they aren't allowed to do that."

"I won't have to go get stitches," Jack told her, hoping it was true. "It's just a little gouge – right? Tell me I'm right…. I'll be fine – although I'll admit, it hurts like crazy at the moment!"

"Hmmm." Dani didn't sound convinced. Her cursory inspection was interrupted by the arrival of one of the paramedics, who examined Jack a little more thoroughly.

"Well, I'd recommend that you see a real doctor, just to be on the safe side," the medic advised, digging in her case for antiseptic and bandages, "but this doesn't really look all that bad."

"That's good." Jack chose to disregard the advice about seeing a physician. "Because I have to fly tomorrow morning. I can't afford to miss flying that run." He squeezed his eyes shut in a wince of pain as the woman cleaned the cut, and felt comforting fingers clasp his. Dani…. He gripped tightly, then eased up as the discomfort passed, and the medic applied a bandage.

"Associating with the Hardys must have rubbed off on you," Dani teased softly. To Jack's gratification, she didn't remove her hand from his. "Frankenstein – Golden Boy…neither one ever wants to admit he's hurt. And their dad is just the same! Macho men, every single one of them, and now you're being the same way. Stubborn to the core!"

The medic moved off, taking her kit with her and leaving Jack and Dani alone for the moment. He sat up, gingerly, smiling a little at her blunt assessment of him.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, then added a hesitant question: "Dani – you're still on for our lunch date tomorrow – aren't you?" Somehow, he was afraid she might have changed her mind.

"Of course I am, lout! You can't get out of it that easily!" she snapped – and touched his cheek again, very tenderly.

###

In the meantime, Vanessa and Megan had emerged from their sheltered spot near the trees. Dani's shriek had startled them, but a hasty look reassured them that while Jack might be damaged, it probably wasn't life-threatening. They looked around in amazement at the chaos surrounding them; the fire seemed to be under control now, and dying down, but the amount of debris and rubbish covering the area was astounding.

"I wonder if there's anything left in the building!" Vanessa mumbled, kicking a paint container out of her way as she walked. "It looks like everything there was, blew outside!"

Megan rubbed her neck, trying to ease the ache, and turned her head cautiously, trying to see if she could spot Frank or Joe anywhere. "Vanessa, do you see the boys? Do you know where they went?"

"No, I've been looking too." Vanessa shook her head, staring about. "They were talking to Con Riley the last time I saw them – weren't they?" Abruptly, Vanessa turned to face Megan, a look of pure horror crossing her face. "They wouldn't have been so stupid as to go inside…would they?"

Becoming increasingly worried now, the girls hurried across the rubble-covered grass towards the art center, towards where they had last glimpsed Frank and Joe.

"It looks like Jack got hit by something," Megan panted, pointing to where Jack was sprawled on the turf, with Dani and one of the paramedics kneeling beside him. She hoped Jack was okay – but at the moment she was more concerned about the whereabouts of Frank!

"They'll take care of him," Vanessa replied briefly, and Megan knew the blonde girl was sharing the same feelings – total absorption in her worry for Joe.

SURELY they weren't stupid enough to go inside the building! The thought whirled through Megan's mind. Surely not…. She hoped – she prayed – that they had enough sense to stay out, despite the lure of possible clues. She spotted Con Riley picking himself up off the grass, and brushing off his trousers. They were with Con…. He looked slightly shaken, but didn't appear to be injured, and indeed, he started barking out orders to his men only moments after he was on his feet. But there was no sign of Frank…or Joe. WHERE are they?

"Let's just walk along the front of the building," Vanessa suggested. "The boys have to be here somewhere! They wouldn't have run off. We were off talking to that boy, Corin, and they might have found someone else to question after they talked to Con. That's probably where they are."

"Okay." Megan nodded agreement, and the two set off, pacing along the sidewalk which fronted the art center – a sidewalk littered with so much rubbish and ash, they had to kick things aside and step over objects, again and again.

"THERE!" Megan pointed to one of the fire trucks, which was parked near the perimeter line set up earlier by the fire department. On the grass nearby, Joe was sitting up, shaking his head dazedly as if attempting to clear some cobwebs…and sprawled beside him, flat on his back, was Frank. An all-too-still Frank.

"Frank!" Megan ran to them, closely followed by Vanessa, and dropped to her knees beside him. Vanessa halted by Joe and crouched down, putting a tender hand against his cheek.

"Joe – sweetie, are you all right?"

"Yeah – yeah, babe, I'm fine." He gave her a slightly crooked grin. "I just got the wind knocked out of me by the concussion of that last big blast." He looked over at Frank, worry filling his blue eyes. "Is he…?"

"He's conscious," Megan answered the unvoiced question, and went on, now speaking to Frank. "Darling, talk to us…are you hurt?"

"No – just winded," Frank's voice was tight. "Guess I banged my arm a little…" He was holding his left shoulder, and chewing his lip in pain, but made an attempt to sit up.

"Here, take it easy—" Joe scrambled to his knees, and he and Megan helped Frank to a sitting position. Frank shook his head, blinking dizzily, and they could see his instant regret at the motion.

"Whoa, ouch…"

"Like Joe said, take it easy," Megan advised him. "Do you want me to find a paramedic?" She looked about, hoping to spot one, and was about to get up and search, when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Baby, no – I'm fine. My arm hurts, but no worse than it has any other day, today included. I'm sure I didn't do anything to re-injure it – and besides, the paramedics have better things to do." Frank cautiously tested his arm, moving it gingerly – and winced. Oh well, it always hurts when I move it that way! "I landed more on my back than on my arm anyway – which is why the breath got knocked out of me." He looked at her more closely. "Are YOU all right?"

She nodded assurance. "Vanessa and I were under the trees."

"I landed on my back too," Joe said, standing up stiffly. "And I'm going to have the bruises to prove it. Football practice is not going to be fun, especially since we don't have any pads yet!" He grinned down at Megan and Frank. "And you two can stop playing 'who can get hurt worse?' any time now, you know." He extended a hand to Megan, then helped Frank to stand.

They began to walk slowly back alongside the smoldering building, trying to stay out of the way of the fire crews. Frank wrapped his arm around Megan's shoulders, holding her tightly against him.

"Baby," he said, suddenly remembering something, "where did you and Van go to? Who were you talking with, before?"

"Oh!" Megan cried, "we have some information for you! We were talking with a guy named Corin, who said he saw someone running out of the building! Corin said he was short, he was running fast, he had an expensive leather backpack, he was carrying a large grocery sack, and he was wearing a sweatshirt with an environmental logo on it," she said in a rush. "But the shirt was hooded; he didn't see hair, or get a good look at features."

"Did he say what environmental symbol?" Joe cut in.

"No, he didn't say," Vanessa answered him. "I don't think he knew. I suppose we could try to find him again, but…"

"It's a good start," Frank said approvingly. "Assuming that what Corin says is true, if the person he saw didn't start the fire, he might have seen who did. This could be a real lead – we should get Corin to talk to the police, and—"

"He won't." Megan shook her head firmly. "He said so. He acted scared of the police; like they were the last people he wanted to talk to." Suddenly, she remembered something else – perhaps not as vital, but very important to them, nevertheless. "Oh – we need to find out about Jack! He was hit by something!"

"Hit by something!" Frank looked at her, aghast, and broke into a half-trot, tugging her along. She immediately pulled him back down to a walk.

"Not so fast," Vanessa cautioned with a grin. "You two still need to catch your breaths, remember?" She took Joe's arm, making sure he didn't try running either.

As they walked, Vanessa abruptly pulled free from Joe's arm, and hurried to a light pole nearest the art building. "Look! It's another one of the flyers from the S.F.E.!" She touched it gently. "It might have just been put up!"

The others gathered close for a moment, looking at the incriminating poster. "Almost too convenient and obvious, don't you think?" Joe murmured, as they started on.

When they reached Jack and Dani, they were relieved to see the pilot on his feet. He was leaning against one of the trucks, two white butterfly bandages showing up starkly on his forehead, and was holding part of a paintbrush in his hand.

After being reassured as to his friend's well-being, Joe looked curiously at the paintbrush. "Thinking of taking up acrylics, Jack?" he queried.

Jack made a face at him, and Dani smiled a little, but didn't say anything. "It's a souvenir of the fire, that's all," Jack said wryly, and didn't elaborate. Joe stared at him a little longer. It was hard to tell for certain in the shifting lights and shadows, but it looked almost as if Jack was…blushing?

"Come on, Baby, I've got to get you home." Frank urged Megan in the direction of the parking lot. "This has been one heck of a first day back, for you! Are you doing okay?"

She laughed a little. "I'm achy and exhausted – and I wouldn't have missed it for the world! But I think I'll have to concoct an edited version of the evening's activities, for Mom!" Laughter trailed back, as the Hardys and their girls headed for their cars.

Jack, alone with Dani once more, felt torn. "I should get home," he admitted. "Morning flights start early. I'd like to stay here – with you – but I know you'll be busy."

"I'll be busy for awhile," she agreed, "although it won't be all night. I'm not supposed to be on duty, after all."

"See you tomorrow, then?" Jack tentatively reached for her hand, and was thrilled when she unhesitatingly put it into his.

"Yes. And I promise I won't forget to call you, so we can set a time for lunch. Now, go home and take some aspirin. Let that sister of yours take care of you." She smiled at him teasingly.

"Oh boy, April's going to have a field day with this one," he lamented, chuckling ruefully. "A paintbrush, for Pete's sake….Goodnight, Dani."

#####

A block or two away from the burning Everding Art Center, a man sat in a dark-blue Mercedes-Benz convertible, watching the flames leap into the darkening night sky, and listening to the concussive explosions. He puffed lazily on his cigarette, and leaned forward to flick the ashes into an ashtray.

"Interesting…."

And then he started his vehicle, and drove away.