A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed!
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Relax, baby. We can work this out." Nancy assured her husband in a calm voice.
Joe continued pacing. "I know. I know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just... I just have this feeling something's going to go wrong."
Nancy went to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "We'll never get anything done if you have that attitude!" she teased gently. She gave him a peck on the lips and smoothed his ruffled hair with her fingers. "It's only Frank." she soothed. "It may have been a while, but he's still your brother. He still loves you."
Joe lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, now you're reassuring me?" he asked.
Nancy shrugged. "We have to switch off once in a while..."
The doorbell rang, and Nancy's heart jumped into her throat, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She couldn't help but wonder if it was too soon to talk to Frank. Had they given him enough time to recover from the shock? He probably still felt hurt, and betrayed... She opened the door.
A tired-looking Frank stood on the other side, George just behind him, grasping his hand for moral support. "Come in." Nancy breathed. She was relieved to see Frank again. In the past day and a half, she often worried this whole thing was a hallucination. She sent a grateful smile to George; she was glad Frank could still open up to his old friend. "Sit down."
Joe approached his brother slowly, wondering if he was still angry. After a second, he pulled Frank into a tight hug, regardless.
"I'm sorry, Joe." Frank rasped, hugging him back as his resolve started to crack. Tears appeared in his eyes.
"Getting sick, Frank?" Nancy asked timidly, hearing his voice crack.
Frank pulled away from his brother and gave her a weak smile. "Maybe. It might have helped if I hadn't stayed up all last night getting whooped at chess..." He sent George a look.
"Hey!" George countered playfully. "It's not my fault you were so determined to beat me that we had to play eight games in a row!"
Nancy and Joe grinned at each other. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hard as they'd thought.
"Wait a second," Nancy joked. "Someone finally beat the mighty Frank Hardy at chess?"
Frank shook his head. "I've lost my touch..." He looked at the woman he had been in love with for so long, taking in the dark circles under her eyes which told him she'd gotten as little sleep last night as he had. Just the sight of her, tired and harried, brought back feelings he knew he couldn't allow himself to harbor. He tried to repress his hopeless thoughts, but he could feel himself warming up to her despite himself. Next he looked over at Joe. Although he loved his brother, Frank still felt cold toward him. It was as if an invisible wall stood between them and the way they once were. Frank didn't know if he would be able to forgive Joe's marriage to Nancy. They had been brothers and best friends, and Frank had thought nothing could change that, but it made the betrayal so much more painful. Frank wasn't so sure anymore.
"Frank?" George gave his hand a squeeze.
He looked at her, startled, and dropped the hand he'd forgotten he was holding. "Joe, I think we need to talk." he said spontaneously, blurting out what he was thinking.
Joe glanced at Nancy and then nodded to Frank. "Sure thing." he said, suddenly nervous. "Hey, come on in." He led Frank into the kitchen.
Nancy stared after them for a moment, finally turning to look out the window. "This is hard." she whispered to no one.
George wrapped her arms around her best friend from behind, leaning her chin on Nancy's shoulder. "I know it is." she answered quietly. "But if anyone can get through this, it's you three."
Nancy's vision blurred with tears of frustration. Staring out the window, she only vaguely registered the unfamiliar car parked on the opposite side of the street.
The man in the car appeared to be studying a road map. Under the creased paper, however, he was calmly loading his high-powered assault rifle, the Assassin weapon of choice. As he attached the silencer to his rifle, he sent a furtive glance toward the house across the street. "Target in position." he muttered to himself, pleased. Stashing the loaded gun under his seat, he began attempting to refold the map, biding his time. Today would be a simple kill, a by-the-book Assassin murder of Frank Hardy. Even better, he would die in front of his own brother and the girl, Nancy Drew, the very two who would have protected him with their lives...
Deciding it was futile, he crumpled up the creased road map and tossed it into the backseat.
The man called "O' Toole" looked up at his boyish face in the rear view mirror, running his tongue over the cyanide capsule embedded in his false tooth. He grinned. He would not need it today.
In the kitchen, Frank and Joe were having coffee. "We used to live on this stuff..." Frank said with a smile.
"I still do." Joe assured him, grinning. "And I'm sure you'll be re-addicted before you know it."
There was a lull in the conversation. Joe cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Listen, Frank..." he trailed off lamely, not sure how to say what he wanted to talk about.
"I still love her." Frank confessed without warning, his voice raw.
Joe didn't know how to respond. What was there to say? No matter what he told his brother, it wouldn't change anything. He and Nancy would still be married. At least that's what he hoped. His blood ran cold as he remembered the chemistry Nancy and Frank had used to share. Maybe they still did.
Frank was ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, Joe. I don't know what to do. I can't just stop loving her... I don't have anything anymore."
"That's not true." Joe replied automatically. "You have me. Mom and Dad. George... and Nancy too." To some extent.
"Do you still solve mysteries?" Frank asked suddenly, knowing very well the unspoken restriction on his relationship with Nancy.
Joe smiled, glad to be off such a dangerous topic. "Only occasionally." he admitted. "Small cases. I'm working in a law firm. Nan's buried in her psychology course work. We never got around to starting that private detective agency... not without you."
Frank recognized the respect Joe had had for him, even after his disappearance. His brother's loyalty meant a lot to him. "Thanks, Joe." But Nancy entered his thoughts involuntarily. Quickly, suddenly, he drained the rest of his coffee, stood up, and walked back into the living room to join George and Nancy.
After a second of hesitation, Joe followed.
Nancy and George were talking quietly on the couch; Frank sank down next to George. "What-" he started to ask, but was cut off by the shattering of the picture window immediately behind him, accompanied by the loud click-click-click of silenced gunfire.
Ping! Ping! Bullets flew over the heads of the couch-sitters, instead embedding themselves in walls and furniture, photographs and lamps splintering into sharp needles of glass.
Joe was not so lucky. Unprepared for the sudden onslaught, he had no time to duck. Catching three bullets to the torso, he stumbled backwards with a groan.
"Get down!" George yelled. She and Frank were already on the ground.
Nancy had other things on her mind. "Joe!" she screamed, seeing him fall, slump to the ground, his blood spattering the carpet and soaking in. She got up and started for him.
"Get down!" George repeated frantically. "Nancy! Wait!"
Nancy either did not hear or did not listen. As she hurried past Frank, he grabbed her around the waist and forced her to the ground. She struggled against his hold. "Joe!" she shrieked. "Frank! He's hit!"
"I know." Frank hissed urgently. "But you won't be able to help him by getting shot yourself!"
The hail of bullets did not stop.
Nancy went limp and Frank loosened his grip on her shoulders. Without warning, she shoved him aside, standing, leaping over the back of the couch to where Joe lay still. A puddle of blood stained the floor under him as it flowed from several wounds in his chest. He was unconscious. "Joe!" Nancy cried, looking for something with which to stem the blood flow. She panicked, finding nothing within reach, and, not willing to leave his side, she pressed her hands to the tender flesh, sticky blood oozing through her fingers. "Joe! No, don't do this! Please, baby, hang on!" she pleaded. "Help, Frank! He'll die!"
Suddenly their attacker stopped firing. The chairs and tables stopped ripping themselves apart as Frank and George heard a car zoom away. Frank made straight for his brother and Nancy. "Oh, no." he gasped, seeing Joe's pale, still form. "George, call an ambulance! George was already at the phone.
Frank checked Joe's pulse and found it to be fluttery and inconstant. Silent tears poured down Nancy's face as she whispered his name over and over. "Joe... Joe... Please don't die!" she murmured tenderly, as if hoping he would hear and obey.
Frank glanced at the distraught girl in alarm. "Nancy! You're bleeding!"
Nancy barely spared a thought for the red stain spreading below her thigh. "It doesn't hurt."
She's in shock, Frank realized. Running into the kitchen, he returned with two dishtowels. "Nancy, you need to lie down. You're going into shock."
Nancy simply shook her head. She wasn't going anywhere. Frank gently removed her hand from Joe's bleeding chest and covered the wounds with a the dishtowel, applying pressure. He handed Nancy the other towel. "Put this on your leg and lie down." he instructed firmly. "I'll take care of Joe."
Instead of pressing the towel to her wound, Nancy lay down right where she sat, in the middle of the growing red stain on the carpet. Not taking her eyes off of her husband, she propped the towel under her head and faced him, taking his limp hand and smoothing his clammy skin with her fingers.
"Close enough." Frank said, barely looking away from the dishtowel he held; it was nearly saturated. Nancy's bloodstain had stopped spreading, and Frank decided her wound couldn't be too serious. As for Joe, though... Frank heard sirens in the distance and could only hope they would arrive in time.
A/N: There you go. Fast update for me; I'm all about the action. Hope you liked this one; sorry about the cliffie... Anyway, here's the deal: You want a new chapter, I want reviews. Get it?