Disclaimer: You know the drill. They're still not mine. Trust me, I would know.

msnancydrew- Thanks for the compliment! I just wanted to tell you that I'm a fan of your work.

Avelyn Lauren-Thanks for the review. Your review got me thinking that maybe seven years isn't that much older, but it's still like, halfway to fifteen, which is too much older (in my opinion.) Please excuse my twisted logic. Not having much experience on the subject, I'm not even sure how old "too much older" is. Oh, and I'm still waiting for an update on "Rivals!"

Ragna ICE(land)- I wasn't sure exactly what your review meant, but I'm assuming you're still rooting for the bad guy. : P Thanks for reviewing!

A/N: Also thanks to everyone else who reviewed, and please, keep reviewing, even if it's just a thumbs up or thumbs down. I love to know that people are actually reading something I wrote!

Nancy's first instinct was to duck, but almost immediately she felt stupid. Being shot at with a camera was, of course, different than having a gun shot at you. Camera flashes were still going off, one after another, illuminating a tense-looking Frank. Before she knew what was going on, Frank had grabbed her hand and was pulling her out of the room.

Nancy knew what to do next. She and Frank, without even consulting each other, raced through the hallway and down the stairs. Nancy flung open the front door, hurrying outside. Even in the darkness, she could see a shiny metallic ladder propped under her window. A bag sat underneath it, a camera flashbulb poking out from under the flap. Nancy out of the corner of her eye, Nancy saw a black-clad figure disappear into her backyard. She made a split-second decision to follow the figure and come back for the camera later.

Nancy pursued the figure into the backyard and was amazed by how dark it was. An eerie, oppressing, shadowy kind of dark. As Nancy stood in the middle of the yard with no idea where the stalker had gone, she realized that Frank wasn't behind her. She was alone.

Not entirely alone, she corrected herself as she heard a twig snap somewhere to her far left. She sprinted in the direction of the sound, not bothering to wait for Frank, wherever he was. The stalker's outline appeared in front of her. She could hear his feet pounding the ground. They were no longer in her backyard, but running through her neighbors' yards. The stalker made a sharp left turn and darted between the houses, toward the street, where, to Nancy's dismay, a car pulled up along the curb. A silver car. A getaway car.

Nancy's heart sank as the passenger door swung open and the figure dove inside. The car's interior darkened again and the car sped away, but not before a third person had taken another picture from the backseat.

Nancy wanted to scream. Or sob. How could she have let him get away? Again! She was so frustrated with herself that she didn't even notice it was raining until she was drenched. The silver car was long gone, but Nancy muttered after it, "You'd better run, because when I get my hands on you, I'll kill you. And it will hurt."

Nancy stood, rooted to the spot and soaked to the bone. After a few minutes, when she was done feeling sorry for herself, she looked down at herself. "You're a mess, Drew." she said. Her soaked clothes were plastered to her body, and her wet hair was dripping down her neck. She realized that if she didn't get off the grass she would be ankle-deep in mud. Before she could move, though, she heard footsteps, and a flashlight beam swept over her.

Thinking the stalker was back, and not wanting him to have the advantage, Nancy bolted. She stopped in her tracks when she heard a voice. "Wait, Nan, it's me!"

Nancy turned and saw Frank jogging after her, flashing the light on himself. "He got away." she gasped.

"I know." Frank said sadly. He looked around, but could only see blackness. "Look, let's discuss this back at the house before it starts raining harder." Not that it could, he thought, listening to the sound of the rain splashing off the pavement.

As Frank and Nancy walked toward her house, Frank said softly, "I was worried when I couldn't find you."

Nancy was touched by the raw emotion in his voice. "Sorry." she whispered.

Frank took her hand. It was cold as ice. He looked at her in the light of a nearby street lamp and noticed for the first time how wet she was. "Cold?" he murmured. He knew her answer from the way she was shaking.

Nancy nodded. Frank noticed how wisps of wet hair stuck to her face. Automatically, he reached over to brush them away and was amazed at the sensation he felt when his fingers made contact with her skin.

Unthinkingly, Nancy leaned in. Their lips touched, softly. Warmth washed through Nancy's entire body. Her hands found their way up to rest on his shoulders. Frank kissed her again, deeper this time. Frank...

"Frank?" Nancy murmured.

"Mmm?"

"You're wet."

Frank pulled back disbelievingly. "So are you!" he pointed out. They stared at each other for a second, and then burst out laughing.

"We'd better get out of the rain." Nancy said when she had caught her breath. Still smiling, the two went inside.

Five minutes later, Frank came downstairs in dry clothes. Nancy was talking on the phone and holding a cup of hot chocolate, and when she saw Frank she covered the phone and said, "I made you some too." she said, gesturing to a steaming mug on the countertop. Frank smiled his thanks, then took his mug and sat down, listening to Nancy talk.

"Sam, really, I'm fine." she was saying. Frank scowled. Sam.

She listened into the receiver for a minute, then said, "Yes, I'm annoyed, but I did the best I could. I just called you because I thought you'd like to know."

Frank bit his lip and waited as Nancy said goodbye and hung up. He and Nancy went and sat on the couch in the living room. They sat in silence until Frank took the plunge. "Nan?" he said. "What happened tonight... does that mean we're back together?"

Nancy choked on a sip of hot chocolate. Frank waited anxiously while Nancy had a brief coughing fit. Regaining her composure, she exclaimed, "No!"

"Oh." Frank said, hurt. He hadn't expected her to say no.

Nancy glanced over at him. Real graceful, Drew, she thought. Let 'em down easy. She really hadn't meant to be so blunt. Oops.

Frank rubbed the back of his neck. "Good night." he said, ending the conversation after an awkward silence. He stood up and left.

Nancy woke up early the next morning and got the envelope she had been expecting in the mail. As usual, her name was scrawled on it in blood-red ink, but thid time, there was no note. Only pictures.

Shuffling through the pictures, she noted that they were all of her, her house, or her car. One of her talking on the phone, sleeping on the couch, with the Hardys, with Bess, with her father. One of her car parked outside of the airport. Also, there were the ones taken last night; a few of her and Frank in her bedroom, and one of her standing in the rain that had been taken as the car pulled away.

Nancy shivered and looked around. She had been oblivious while most of these photos were being taken; maybe she was being photographed right now! It really bothered her to know that there was someone watching, someone she couldn't see, but they were still here...

She almost had a heart attack when she heard Frank come down the stairs, followed closely by Joe. Wordlessly, she handed the photos to Frank, who flipped through them with a grim expression on his face.

Joe squinted at the pictures over Frank's shoulder and inhaled sharply. "This is not good."

"Think so?" asked Nancy, whose face was buried in her hands.

A/N: Ok, I know that was a strange place to stop, but this chapter was going nowhere. I'll admit, I don't really like it. Please review and tell me what you think. This chapter was incredibly unbalanced. Sorry.

A/N: Also, sorry about the delay in updating, but what with all of my schoolwork and other school-related activities, I won't be having much time to write. I'll do my best to get the next chapter up soon, but I can't promise anything.