Alright, fair warning for all those who have come to read a strictly cannon history of Nancy Drew and the Hardys—I'm going to be playing it fast and loose with some elements of cannon, some more apparent than others as we go.

To those who have reviewed: Barb, RedRua, Caranath, Max2013, Cherylann Rivers, and sm2003495—thank you, thank you! It's been years since I've written anything, but a couple years ago I posted an epilogue to my only other story and somehow I've found myself deciding to give it a go again. I appreciate any word of advice, comments, or just a general hello : ) Thank you for stopping by.

Chapter 2

In the "good old days", Joe sometimes bemoaned to Chet when they started reminiscing about their college years together, staying up until 1:00 in the morning was no problem at all. Unfortunately, the last few years had not been kind. No longer could he manage to skate by on three hours of sleep and still be semi-functional the next day, which mean Joe had reluctantly pulled out of Frank's driveway at 10:00pm last night without any further work done than what he had managed to accomplish before changing Pete.

But really, how functional do I have to be to find a dog? Joe mused as he lay in bed the next morning, listening to the quiet hum of his heater, feeling not quiet as rested as he'd have liked to on a Saturday.

Rolling over, Joe sat up rubbing at his eyes, letting loose a jaw-cracking yawn as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and felt his feet scratch against the stiff carpet. His apartment was always a little too hot in the summer, but the carpet had been a necessity for the winter months, or so the landlord had assured him when he moved into the studio apartment. As November crept closer, Joe had to admit, it was nice avoiding his ice-cold wood floors by the strategic placement of his 5x6 carpet lining the walk from his bed to his dresser.

Pulling on a pair of jeans which were becoming a bit too threadbare for comfort, Joe paused to stretch out his hip – there was no ignoring the stiffness in it this morning as he leaned sideways at the waist, propping an arm against the wall for balance, the stretch of muscles gripping at him just painful enough to make his physical therapists' recommended exercises edge forward slightly on his mental to-do list. Maybe he could bump "learning all the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody" down a notch.

Groaning a bit, Joe eased himself upright, and checked his phone. It was only 7:00am, but Pete would have been up for a while, and Joe figured Frank wouldn't want to cook anything in the house if Callie was still feeling nauseous. Wrestling his head through a wrinkled blue button down and taking a quick peek in the mirror to decide his hair hadn't quite reached the shade of blond that meant showering was an absolute necessity, Joe locked up his apartment and jogged to his car to make his usual weekend trip to the bakery he'd grown to love over the last year.

Not until he was standing in line in the little shop, waiting for two coffees, three smoothies, and a dozen donuts getting finishing touches of glaze drizzled on them by bleary eyed college kids, did Joe pull out his phone to take another look at the message he had gotten last night.

Nancy Drew

"So I might be crazy, but I think I found your dog."

"Well that's just not possible", Joe muttered to himself absently, as he opened his messages to check the attachment Nancy had included in her text. Last he had heard, Nancy had moved to Chesterton, which, while also in New York, was a good five hour drive away. For Nancy to have found that dog, he'd have had to travel over 300 miles. Not unheard of, but highly unlikely for even the most free-spirited of dogs, as far as Joe knew.

Squinting at the attachment, Joe clicked on the photo without much anticipation. He stared.

"No way." Eyes widening, Joe flicked his fingers over the screen to zoom in on what Nancy had captured.

"Order up for Joe Hardy?"

The call rang out, and Joe snapped to attention, pocketing his phone and excusing himself through the line of people awaiting their orders to reach the fresh-faced girl behind the counter who grinned up at him while handing over a white paper bag and carboard drink carrier with a cheerful, "Have a wonderful day!"

"Thanks, Megan."

Receiving a beaming smile in response, Joe tipped his head in a mock bow, before taking long strides out the shop door towards his car, intent on examining the picture on his phone more closely.

Settling the drinks carefully into the passenger seat as he slid into the driver's seat, Joe tucked the bag of donuts under a sweater with an appreciative sniff of maple and lemony- vanilla frosting and pushed his keys into the ignition before tipping sideways in his seat to grab his phone from his back opened to the image he'd only been able to examine for a few moments in the bakery.

It was a startlingly good shot, now that he had time to study it more closely, and Joe whistled low under his breath. The photo was framed by two white towers, militant in their straight edges and unembellished walls. Rain was clearly streaking down when the photo had been taken, small blurred circles visible on bits of the photo like the phone had caught some of the storm on its glass as it took the picture. It was a moment of perfect timing; while it appeared the picture had been taken across a busy road, there was just enough space between cars passing each other to allow for a glimpse of a dark alley running between the buildings. In front of that darkness, right between the buildings and the crossing cars, caught in a patch of sun somehow breaking through the rain, was a young boy and a dog. The boy's head was bowed, bent against the rain, but he had a protective arm around the dog's back—a dog with a tattered orange color and ears too small for the rest of his golden body.

"There's just no way." Despite the disbelief however, Joe began typing out his response.

Nancy, good to hear from you.

I can't believe it's actually the dog I'm looking for, but I see the similarities. Where did you see them?

Hitting send, Joe stared down at his phone, zooming again on the picture. The boy seemed small, no more than 7 or 8 if Joe had to guess, but his face was turned away from the camera, intent on the dog at his side. There was something bittersweet about the way the dog and boy stood out, the only people visible in a long string of cars and buildings edging around them. He wondered what had caught Nancy's attention in them, wondered if she had felt that too when she pulled out her phone to take the picture.

After a last lingering look at photo, Joe gave embarrassed huff— it was just a missing dog, nothing to get excited about. The odds of it being the same dog were laughably slim. Shaking his head, Joe looked behind him and slid the car into reverse, backing up and twisting sharply to the right to roll onto the highway. There wasn't anything more to do until Nancy responded, and Frank's coffee was getting cold. Guiltily pressing down a little more firmly on the gas, Joe sped as fast as he dared until he was turning into the driveway if felt like he'd just vacated moments ago. Gravel crunched under the tires, and under his feet as Joe grabbed his set of Frank's house keys from beneath a scattered heap of change and gathered up his breakfast supplies.

As he unlocked the front door, jangling his keys and calling out a tentative, "Hello", Joe heard a slight buzz coming from his pocket but with hands full of smoothies, donuts, and coffee, he couldn't really do anything other than kick the door closed with his foot and hurry towards the kitchen table where they always ate their meals.

"In here!".

Callie.

The relief that hit him at the sound of her voice was almost embarrassing. Not that he was admitting that if anyone asked.

"Well well well, look who's finally deigning to join us for breakfast this morning," Joe grinned as he rounded the corner and leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Callie grinned back at him from where she sat stretched across two chairs, feet barely peaking over the table top, and Joe choked back a laugh as he took in her purple pajamas, pink bathrobe, and fuzzy bunny slippers. The slippers had been his idea, a gift to her before her first treatment. He had read that chemo patients sometimes became more susceptible to cold while in treatment, so the morning he drove Frank and Callie to the hospital, Joe dropped a gift bag into her lap with a careless, "because Frank doesn't have my sense of style". Frank had huffed, only sounding a little choked and watery, and Callie had laughed until she cried when she saw bunny faces staring up at her. She'd worn the shoes every day of treatment since then.

"Ooh, is that hazelnut I smell?" Making grabby hands at the coffee, Callie's eyes lit up and she leaned forward eagerly, momentarily popping her legs down from their perch. Laughing, Joe snagged a cup from the set hanging above a small window facing a patch of garden in the backyard, and carefully poured the coffee from one of the to-go cups into the white ceramic mug.

"Good…nose, I guess." As Joe set the coffee down on the kitchen counter and busied himself getting breakfast laid out, opening cabinets for plates, pulling out spoons from the dishrack beside the sink, balancing a small bowl of sugar on top of it all, Callie gave a croaky whine.

"Come on, Joe. Hurry! Before Frank sees."

"Wait, are you not supposed to have decafe coffee either now?" Joe quirked a brow, setting the mug in front of Callie, but keeping a cautious hand around it.

Shrugging, Callie flicked at Joe's fingers until he moved them with an indignant yelp. "I honestly don't know. Hiding from Frank when I'm eating something I actually like is pure instinct at this point".

At Callie's mournful tone, Joe let out a laugh, pulling out a chair to join her at the table and pushing a peanut butter-banana smoothie in front of her.

"Well I promise you, your secret is safe with me. And I also promise you," Joe continued as he took a bite of maple donut and struggled to speak around it, "this smoothie has only the good stuff in it. No kale."

"Crumbs, Joe!" Callie's nose wrinkled in disgust and Joe gave her an unrepentant beam but grabbed a napkin from the bakery's bag and wiped at the table.

"Do I smell donuts?" Frank sleepily stumbled into the room, holding a wiggling Pete in his arms who immediately grinned at the sight of the box of donuts, making grabbing motions so similar to Callie's that Joe smirked and gave Callie a side-glance. She ignored him, of course, and Joe snorted. How a child only six months old had already caught on to how donuts were basically desert for breakfast was mildly impressive in Joe's opinion. Taking a quick pull on his blueberry smoothie, Joe stood up and hooked Pete under his arms, taking him from Frank who gave an appreciative smile and slumped into the chair at the end of the table. His hand drifted out almost absently to brush against Callie's clasped around her mug.

"Morning, hon."

For a moment, Frank just looked at Callie, studying her eyes, his hand coming up to adjust the soft beanie on Callie's head, tugging down on the edges to wrap a little further down her forehead. It would have been normal six months ago, Joe reflected as he watched Callie's head tilt towards Frank's hand, for Callie to get impatient with Frank's worry and brush his hands away rather than letting him press the back of his hand to her forehead and giving him her softest smile as she did now. Some of the changes that had come into their lives weren't all bad. They were different. Softer—both of them—not weaker.

"Morning. Last night was one for the books, huh?"

"Yeah", Frank's voice was quiet, but the skin around his eyes relaxed as he leaned back, seemingly satisfied by the way Callie was sitting up, eating, talking.

"Well, you should know, I am drinking coffee and I don't care what you say. I'm thirsty enough to drink a pot of this stuff. Joe, how much more of this do you have with you?" Callie asked brightly, squeezing Frank's hand and holding her mug up with some defiance.

"Cals, I'm okay with the coffee as long as it's decafe. AND—" Frank strained to grab the pitcher of water directly behind him on the counter, "as long as you drink one of these for every one of those." He nodded at the mug, and Callie's mouth pulled down at the corners as she groaned.

"Oh my gosh, is that really necessary? I'll be peeing all day."

"Speaking of which…" Joe nodded down at Pete. "I'm gonna get him changed."

Joe stepped quietly outside the kitchen, bouncing Pete in his arms just slightly. As he grabbed the empty container of puffs that was Pete's newest obsession, he could hear Callie and Frank's lowered voices drifting from the kitchen. They didn't really have enough time together these days, between Pete and treatments, and Joe took his time, cleaning Pete up and throwing on a pair of Hugs as Pete mouthed at the empty container, gurgling pleasantly, little fingers busily scrabbling along the edges where a label had been worn off.

"Okay, let's see what we have here." Joe reached for his phone, remembering the buzzes it had made when he arrived, and held it up in front of him as he wrapped an arm around Pete's chest and picked him up from the changing table.

It was another text from Nancy. Three actually.

"I should have explained. I'm outside NYC, not far from you guys. Probably an hour away, with traffic?"

"I saw him again, not close enough to get a better shot."

"Whosever the dog is though, it's not the boy's. At least, I don't think so."

Raising his eyebrows, Joe typed as quickly as he could one handed.

"What makes you say that?"

To his surprise, Nancy's response blinked onto the screen after a couple of seconds.

"The dog is in good shape. The kid, not so much."

What did that mean? Joe started to type out another question when Pete gave a howl of protest, finally growing tired of his stationary position in Joe's arms and flinging a hand reproachfully at Joe's phone.

"Alright, alright, you have a point."

Joe shifted Pete to his other hip, patting him on the back and walking through the hallway from Pete's room towards the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of Frank's books still scattered across the desk in the office, and he smiled, taking a couple of steps forward before pausing at the room across from the office where Frank and Callie slept after moving to a more accessible room than the upstairs master bedroom. Peering inside, Joe took in the box of latex gloves propped against the nightstand beside the bed, the disposable bowls beside them, and quickly shut the door. Callie never wanted Pete to be too near anything she touched after treatment.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Joe caught Frank right as he was leaning over to kiss the top of Callie's head.

"EW, get a ROOM." Joe threw a hand over his eyes.

Rolling his own, Frank grinned at Joe while Callie hooted and made obnoxiously loud kissing noises in Frank's direction. It really was routine now. Months ago, Frank and Callie had been told that the possibility of exchanging fluids while Callie was recovering from a cycle of treatment made kissing too risky. Once, Frank had instinctively leaned in after a treatment and, panicked, Callie had tipped her head down so that Frank's lips just brushed her forhead. The stricken look on both their faces left Joe swallowing hard and since then, he always made sure to react to any touch they exchanged with the agony of a teenager being told one too many times by parents that "sex is a beautiful gift we treasure".

Settling back into his chair, Joe pulled out his phone again and passed Pete on to Frank, who crammed the last bit of his donut into his mouth and scooted back from the table to sit Pete on his lap.

"So, I think I'm going to see a man, or rather a woman, about a dog."

Raising an eyebrow, Frank asked, "You mean the missing dog case has a lead?"

Nodding, Joe reached for his coffee mug, draining the last dregs and wiping a hand across his mouth as he began pulling up Nancy's messages.

"Yep. And you won't believe who I heard from."

"Nancy?".

Joe could feel his eyes bugging out of his head. Callie laughed and patted his arm consolingly.

"It's okay, Joe, I don't know how he does it either."

At Joe's affronted look, Frank covered his laugh with a cough and grinned. "She asked me if I could give her any information on a client we'd had this past month, and I figured she might be coming near the city to track down a story. I had to tell her attorney client privilege applied on that case, even to us paralegals, but told her she could check out some public records in Reston, New York. That's only, what, forty miles out? If it was Biff, Chet, or any of our other friends that we both know, we'd have been planning to see them if they were that close. So," Frank finished with a flourish, "Nancy."

Joe glared at Frank. "What I'm hearing is you had an unfair advantage when I asked you to guess."

Shrugging, Frank shared a smile with Callie, and Joe sighed.

"Okay, well yes, it was Nancy. And she thinks she found the dog."

Pulling up the photo, Joe handed his phone to Frank who examined it and passed it to Callie.

"Well, what are you going to do?" Callie leaned across the table, toppling Joe's almost empty cup which Frank quickly righted and tossed into the trash as Pete squealed in delight, reaching for the blueberry puddle on the table.

"Well, if she's that close, I think I might as well drive down and have a look. If she's working on a story, she'll be busy and I don't wanna ask her to do any tracking that I could do myself."

"Mm. Yeah. Interesting comment about the boy." Frank's eyes flicked back down to Joe's phone as he wiped at Pete's fingers, twisting away from the table as little hands strained to slap against the spill.

Grabbing the last remaining napkins on the table, Joe nodded. "I thought so too. I think I'll drive down, if you guys are set for the day."

Frank's mouth twitched and for a moment, Joe could tell he'd had urge to ask to come, even on a silly scavenger hunt like this one most likely was. Callie must have caught it too and looked at Frank with a faint lines of unhappiness and empathy around her eyes. She'd hated that he'd decided to put his degree to use and become a paralegal while she was getting treatment, but Frank had insisted this was the best way to ensure he was there for her, and for Pete, and that was that.

"No yeah, we should be set for the day. Maybe you could swing by this evening if you wanted, but we've got Callie's parents coming into town to watch Pete so I'll get to work on some house projects."

Joe nodded, and pulled out his phone.

"I know it's a long shot, but I think I'll head down your way."

Gathering up the empty bags and drink carriers, Joe tossed them into the trash, and with a last tickle to Pete's chin, kiss on the cheek to Callie, and firm hug around the shoulders to Frank, Joe walked outside to his car, pulling up the GPS on his phone.

Nancy: "Okay, I'll give you the address I saw them at."

The address Nancy gave was only 45 minutes out, and Joe smiled with relief, punching it into his phone.

"Thanks! Will you be around still? Want to grab lunch?"

Nancy: "Sure! If you're buying".

Joe grinned at the message and rolled out towards the city of Reston.

When Joe pulled to a stop in front of a café an hour later, his stomach was already growling again and Joe was glad he'd told Nancy to meet him there for lunch. Smoothies never cut it, no matter what Frank said.

With a curious look around at the towering buildings that the café was planted right in the midst of, Joe walked into the shop, hearing a bell ring above his head as he did so. The shop was full of lounging highschool students and couples speaking in low tones, and Joe cast a quick look over the tables. Then, right beside him, he heard, "Joe!", and turning around, he met the unmistakable smile of Nancy Drew and started. Beside her on the low window seat sat a small boy, with a red cap and a thin face.

"Uh….hi".