Hello, friends! Here's chapter 19. I hope you enjoy it. Something is definitely brewing, so don't forget to drop your theories and reviews down below. As promised, I am also working on a Charah fanfic, for my Chuck friends. But I've also had an idea for a Francy one-shot. Any Titanic people here?

The Hardys dined with Finn, Bess and Carson at Nancy's hotel. Finn was due back in New York, and Frank could see how disappointed Nancy was when it came to exchanging goodbyes. But, as always, she remained stoic, lifting her chin.

When everyone had exchanged hugs and handshakes, the Hardys joined Nancy in her room. They'd packed a duffle bag with dark clothing to go over their underclothes, and the three changed in silence, all lost in their own thoughts.

Joe was thinking about Bess, and the dress she'd worn at dinner. And his thoughts kept returning to his dad, and the future. All this thinking was unlike him, and it was giving him a headache.

Nancy was thinking about Karen Chircop and the morning meeting. She felt empty, thinking about her future, and how unclear it had become. How had she messed this up so much? And how was she going to fix it? Did she even want to?

And Frank was thinking about their plans for the evening. That is until he glanced over at Nancy and saw her standing with her back to the brothers, dark sweater in hand, wearing only jeans and a flimsy white chemise. The three had changed in front of each other and were all adults. But Nancy was just any adult. And her skin would always have an effect on him. He had to avert his gaze before he embarrassed himself.

"Okay, so how's this going to go?" Joe asked, glancing at the mirror, as he scraped his too long blonde locks back into a black bandana.

Nancy zipped up a dark leather jacket and glanced at Frank. She hesitated.

And it almost broke him. Her eyes were dark, troubled. And the gap between her lips, that part, offered a flash of white. And an uncertain space. She was clearly having a difficult time; and at any other moment, he would have taken her in his arms and cradled her against him.

"We're going to stake out warehouse 316. And, if we don't see any activity, we'll go in. But we'll go in carefully. No risk-taking, Joe. If we see anything, there'll be no guns blazing. No heroics. We'll call the police, right Nancy?"

Nancy nodded, glancing away.

"No fun. You two definitely came up with this plan. It's got your boring maturity written all over it." Joe made a face and donned gloves. "Okay, well, let's go be dull adults."

"I don't think you know what normal adults do," Frank complained as the trio clambered into their car. "If you saw some of my colleagues eating dinner in front of the TV and going to bed at nine, I reckon you'd have a heart attack."

"What, people do that?" Joe pressed night-vision binoculars up to his eyes. "Fine, I'll take this." Then, he lowered the binoculars and gave Nancy a stressed look. "Wait, do you think Bess will want that sort of thing? I'm not ready for that kind of thing."

"I reckon she'll still let you do stakeouts. She's busy jet-setting and following her whims."

"That's okay then." Joe looked relieved.

"And, besides, look at Nancy and me. We haven't sacrificed anything that's important to us," Frank chipped in. As the words left his mouth, he realized that he'd made a mistake. He was met with blank stares, both from Nancy in the passenger seat, and Joe in the back.

"Yeah, that's the problem, though. I'll get my lurve tips somewhere else, thanks."

"I mean… we both have our careers, our friends, our families. We wouldn't be together if either of us needed us to sacrifice any of the things that make us happy… Urgh. I just mean… a good relationship should be about accepting each other for who you are. And if Bess wants something you don't want, you should look elsewhere."

Nancy gave Frank a look he couldn't figure out. But before he could ask, she was glancing out into the night, then down at the phone in her lap.

"I get what you're saying, dude," Joe said. "But I think some compromise is needed, too. If a relationship is serious, if you feel strongly, you should be willing to give some things up, for the betterment of the relationship. I'm just trying to work out if I feel that strongly, and where the line is drawn between sacrifice and compromise. Because I think Bess deserves me to have my shit together before I make any rash decisions."

Nancy looked surprised. "Well, that's insightful."

"And suspicious. Joe makes a rash decision. It's kind of his thing."

"I can change. I'm not beyond maturing. This guy has character development left in this guy just yet." Joe looked insulted. "You'll see. I'll grow up."

They sat in the car for over an hour. Joe was in charge of Bluetooth, choosing cheesy eighties dance tracks to keep them occupied. Not only was he the DJ, but he was also the caterer, providing snacks to take their minds off the numbing boredom of the stakeout.

Frank was about to give up, call it quits. The car was too small for his tall frame. And his eyes were aching with tiredness, the sleepless night before was starting to catch up with him. Besides, he wanted to sit Nancy down to talk, really talk.

He was about to suggest a late-night drink, something, anything to give him a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, a phone began to ring. He began to check his pockets before he realised that it was Nancy's phone calling out for attention.

"Hey," she said. "Oh, dad. You said you remember you where you knew Chircop from? Wait, give me a second… you're on speaker. I'm just with the guys."

"Hello, Frank… Joe… I didn't realise the three of you were together."

Nancy gave Frank a look. "Yeah, dad. Just catching up."

"That's good. I don't want you getting in any danger, especially when you're suspended. Don't want you to jeopardize your career, Nancy. Anyway, I'm sorry I don't have any earth-shattering news. I just remembered where I knew Chircop from."

"Well, dad, don't keep us in suspense."

"As I said, it's nothing big. I just remember his father being in some classes with me, at law school in Chicago, before I transferred to Columbia. His name was Brone Chircop."

"I remember from the file. He was in the FBI."

"That's the one. He was killed in a mugging a few years ago. His wife Claire Chircop died of cancer before that. The family had or rather has a lot of misfortune. They give the Kennedy's a run for their money. Of course, not being a local in Chicago, I didn't give it a lot of thought…" Carson trailed off, voice troubled.

"But, sir?" Frank jumped in.

"Nonsense, Frank. It's Carson. We've been through this." Carson Drew cleared his throat. "It's probably nothing. It's been so long, and I hadn't thought about it. But I just… I seem to recall something odd before I left college. Brone Chircop left in the middle of the year. I seem to remember… well, there were rumours about it being about drugs."

"Obviously nothing was proven because he got into the FBI," Nancy said.

"Of course. But that family are wealthy, influential. Without proof, nothing would ever stick." Carson chuckled. "But I wouldn't put stock in it. There were rumours about his girlfriend being pregnant. I even heard he'd robbed a bank. Anyway, I thought I'd tell you, once my old brain got working. Have a good night, you three."

Nancy hung up and shared a long look with Frank. "I know it's just a rumour, but it's all a bit damning. Karen Chircop's partner died after he poked his nose into something related to drugs. All roads seem to lead back to this family."

"Maybe we should ask her ourselves," Joe said.

He pointed out the window. And sure enough, Karen Chircop was exiting the warehouse. But her arms were full of plastic bags and boxes.

"No, we'll wait," Nancy said sharply.

So, they did. Once Karen Chircop had left the scene, the three cautiously alighted their vehicle and approached the warehouse, careful to avoid the cameras.

Suddenly, Joe stopped dead. He dropped to his knees.

Frank started to ask what he'd seen when he himself saw the object in his brother's hands. It was a ring. A simple, gold ring.

"Thanks, Joe, but I'm not interested in marriage," Nancy joked.

For once, Joe didn't engage in humour. His face was ashen, as he rolled the ring around in his fingers, seeking out the writing on the inside of the band.

FH & LH 1986.

"Nance, he's not messing around," Frank whispered. "That's our dad's wedding band."