Hey, all my amazing readers! Ok, so I am SO sorry that it's taken me so stinkin' long to update this story! School, health, and life in general has been keeping really busy these past few months. However, with it being summer, I hope to update this story a lot quicker! J Thanks to you all who haven't given up on me quite yet! I hope this is a satisfactory update. Wish I could take the time and thank all you reviewers personally like I usually do, but we're about to leave on a trip so I'll just have to thanks all of you all in a collective THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! jayley, KennaC, Lady Emily, Chromde, Silver Scorpion, bluetouchstone, Chefz, and lurvetoread, your reviews have been so encouraging! Hope you all keep reading and enjoying! Oh, and reviewing ;) Now, on to the story!

Blue eyes glazed, face taunt, and only half-seeing the road stretched before him, Joe Hardy gripped the black leather of the steering wheel tightly in both hands. Normally, in these circumstances, Joe would have been relaxed and enjoying himself, with windows rolled down and music drifting from the radio. The interior of his blue Honda was cool, matching the chilly September weather outside, and the streets of Bayport City were quiet, mostly deserted. As usual, the night scene in this calm town was practically non-existent and but for the brightly lit interiors of the homes lining the road, one could hardly tell there was life in the city at all.

Unfortunately, Joe was unappreciative of the isolation and quiet drive this town provided for him tonight, it's peaceful atmosphere wasted on him. But, he couldn't really be blamed for it. After all, it had not been the best week of his life. First, there was finding out that he had been in love for who knows how long with Nancy Drew, who just so happened to be his best friend. That in itself was an awkward enough situation to deal with, but oh no, it did not end there. Of course, precluding this realization, and perhaps even causing it, was Frank, his very own brother, choosing to finally take Joe's, HIS--Joe groaned at the thought—advice and ask Nancy out. And finally, there was that itsy bitsy detail of Nancy becoming Frank's girlfriend and them finding themselves swept into a passionate romance right as Joe decided to figure out his true feelings for the intrepid detective. To make matters worse, Nancy was deciding to leave Bayport early instead of staying another week as she had originally planned.

And of course, who do I find this out from? Not Nancy, oh no, SHE'S not interested in her old buddy Joe these days. No, I find this out from Frank! Talk about adding insult to injury… Joe's thoughts were less than encouraging, and his jaw clenched as he punched down on the gas pedal in frustration. Driving while angry or upset is never a wise decision, as Frank often reminded Joe; however, the memory of his oh-so-dear brother's words of wisdom did nothing to stop Joe from pushing his little Honda to the limit as he swerved impatiently around cars, before braking abruptly to avoid rear-ending the Chevy in front of him.

Twiddling his thumbs impatiently on the steering wheel, Joe groaned inwardly as the red light of a stop-light glared at him from the darkness of the road ahead. Slowing reluctantly to a stop, pressing lightly on the brake, Joe took a deep, calming breath, letting it whistle out in a sigh. Shifting uncomfortably on the black leather seat, Joe absently adjusted his rearview mirror, as his thoughts rested once again on the object of his, (and his brother's, his mind snickered at him) affection. Joe groaned and shook his head, tapping on the wheel in a short, staccato rhythm.

He had to see Nancy. Of course, he had no idea what he was going to say once he saw her, or even how to act around her anymore, what with his sudden realization of love for the young lady in question. But if there was one thing he did know, it was that he could not let Nancy leave without saying good-bye, and hopefully find out why she hadn't even bothered to let him know that she was planning to leave early. Of course, she could have simply believed that Frank would let Joe know of her change of plans and so she did not need to personally make sure Joe would know.

I mean, it's not like she owes ME, her old comrade in arms, anything. I was just the one who made sure she had someone to hang out with when Frank was out with Callie. I was just the guy who consoled her when everything looked hopeless for her and Frank. I was just the—

And no, I'm not bitter about this at all, Joe thought wryly, abruptly putting a stop on his rather obviously sour strain of thoughts. Of course, he would have appreciated Nancy telling him her plans, but maybe it was not such a big deal after all. In fact, Nancy probably simply did not realize how much importance he placed on hearing her change of plans from the girl detective herself. Reasoning this out quite practically in his head was easy, and Joe shook his head in frustration, glancing absently at the deer nibbling along the roadside as he sped along. If only reason would dictate feelings. Of course, then he wouldn't be in this whole situation in the first place…but that was besides the point. The reality was Nancy would never have intentionally hurt him, and Joe knew he should recognize that fact. It was simply a matter she had overlooked, and hadn't realized would so adversely affect him.

A horn blaring loudly in alarm awoke him from his musings, and Joe squinted in surprise at the bright headlights that seemed to suddenly appear directly in his path. Slamming on the brakes, Joe fought for control as he struggled to maneuver his way back onto his lane. Wheels locked and skidding on the asphalt, the car spun and swerved toward the guardrail and Joe desperately jerked the wheel to the right. Easy, easy. Joe held his breath as he gently pulled his foot away from the brake and applied light pressure to the gas, trying to straighten out the little Civic. A prayer of thanks and relief escaped his lips as Joe felt the car wheels straighten and regain their hold on the road. As the car in the other lane blared it's horn one last time, as if to remind Joe of his error and that their near death experience was his fault, Joe let out a shaky breath and pulled over to the side of the road.

Get a HOLD of yourself, Joe!

So evidently, his logical explanation of Nancy's oversight reasoned out in his head had done nothing to calm him down, Joe thought dismally. Why was finding out that she simply hadn't thought to tell him her early departure so disturbing to him? It wasn't as if she should have felt obligated to do it.

And suddenly, Joe knew that THAT was what was truly upsetting him right now. With a sudden sick dawning of comprehension, Joe realized that he was, well, realizing his biggest subconscious fear--that he was no longer the first person Nancy would feel compelled to tell her plans to. From now on, Frank would be the one Nancy would run to tell her decisions to. Frank would be who Nancy would think of when arranging her plans for the future. Frank would be the first person that would come to her mind when Nancy discovered an important clue in a case or found a movie in town that she really wanted to see. Frank would be the one to see that brightening of blue eyes, that irrepressible, hopeful sparkle as Nancy shared the thoughts and ideas she would feel uncomfortable telling anyone else. Frank, and not Joe.

And just like that, Joe was being replaced. Now he knew that that was what he had first feared would happen when contemplating the idea of Nancy being Frank's girlfriend. Without doubt, it was happening, starting down the dreaded path. With a sudden unshakeable certainty, Joe knew there was nothing he could do about it. He could no more halt this decline of his relationship with Nancy and her replacement of his role in her life than he could move Mount Everest with his bare hands.

With an abnormal clotting forming in his throat, Joe shook his head, trying to rid himself of this desperate feeling of loneliness, abandonment. Really, it could have been much worse. After all, it wasn't as if Nancy had picked a bad replacement for him, Joe tried to console himself as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. In fact, Frank was the perfect replacement, Nancy's mirror image, fitting Nancy in ways Joe never would or could have. Moreover, Frank was genuinely a good guy, the best man Joe could think of for Nancy. They would work, work perfectly in fact. The public would embrace them, goad them on, love them, idolize them. They would be iconic. Epic. And he, Joe, would be there for them through it all. He would support them, cheer them on. Because really, Joe had to admit that Frank and Nancy—well they were perfect together. There was only one little problem with the whole picture, Joe couldn't help thinking as he pulled back on to the highway and continued on toward Nancy's hotel. That one little problem that kept whispering traitorously in his heart as he drove through the lonely night,

I wanted to be perfect with her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As he pulled into the Marriot parking lot, and pulled to a careful halt near the hotel entrance, Joe took a deep breath, attempting to calm his fluttering nerves. If he couldn't help feeling like a love-sick puppy, at least he could do his best not to act like one. At least, while he was with Nancy anyway, Joe thought grimly as he slid out of the driver's seat, straightened up, and started toward the big glass doors of the hotel.

As Joe walked through the lobby, he found himself, to his great dismay, deliberately slowing his pace, stopping casually to scrutinize the elaborate marble columns looming from floor to ceiling, and searching mentally for anything he could have possibly forgotten in the car. Great, now I'm stalling. Me, the great Casanova Joe Hardy, is STALLING. To talk to Nancy no less! Joe groaned inwardly, and shook his head with disgust. Gritting his teeth with renewed determination, Joe strode toward the front desk at the end of the lobby, ignoring the curious glances from overnighter's who were asking each other, in rather audible whispers, if that wasn't Joe Hardy, the great detective, walking past them.

After receiving the hotel key from the receptionist, not before having to go through an exhaustive explanation that YES, he WAS Joe Hardy who, yes, needed the room number for Nancy Drew, yes the famous girl detective who had helped in the capture of Mobster Finch, yes, yes that's right, he needed Nancy's number, and no he wasn't interested in hers, Joe found himself in the gold and silver embossed elevator dinging its way up to floor thirteen.

9…10…11…12…13. At last, the elevator glided smoothly to a stop at the thirteenth floor. As he exited the elevator, turning back to gaze at the floor number, checking to make sure he had gotten off on the correct floor, Joe let a dry smile slip across his face. Floor thirteen, how utterly appropriate…and foreboding.

Shaking his head at his superstitious premonitions, Joe strode down the long, carpeted hallway in search of Nancy's room. Light, prestigious-sounding classical music floated from speakers installed in the hallway ceilings, adding to the elegant ambiance of the hotel's trappings, and the thick, royal red carpet muffled his footsteps. Although Bayport was not a terribly small town, it was not exactly a bustling metropolis either. Nonetheless, the Bayport Marriot could boast of a reasonably famous reputation among the state. With its state-of-the-art communications center for business folks, and its ideal location near the interstate, the Marriot had progressed from an obscure way-side stop for tired travelers to a well-known and respected boarding place for the upper-class as well as the middle. However, the free breakfast they offered for guests was the main attraction, in Joe's opinion, and at the thought of their flaky croissants, Joe could feel his mouth water and his stomach growled ominously, reminding him of his meager supper he had forced down earlier that night. Right now, he felt like he could eat a cow…but Joe knew it was probably just his nervousness about facing Nancy that created the sudden urge to race out the hotel and drive to the near-by Wendy's for a Dr. Pepper and Double Cheeseburger.

Get a grip, Joe. You're just going to go and casually talk to Nancy. Just a friend talking to another friend. Yeah, friends…yeah right!

Joe sighed and glanced at the door numbers as he swiveled his head to the left and right, searching for room thirteen-twenty. It didn't matter. Regardless of how he felt toward Nancy, he had to maintain the casual attitude they had always shared together. It would be a time for two friends to catch up, for Nancy to share her plans and reasons for leaving Bayport early. They would keep it light, normal, casual. Two friends with no deep, hidden secrets between them. Only Joe would know differently. But, Joe thought with another deep sigh, this was the way it had to be. From now on, until Joe managed to find away to move on (which would be never, his subconscious sourly supplied), there would always be something between them. At least, in his eyes there would be. But Nancy—Nancy could not know. He had to maintain the illusion of simple, friendly camaraderie they had always shared…she could never be the wiser. At least, not if he could help it, Joe thought grimly as he finally pulled to a halt in front the last door on the hall.

1320

The gold numbers seemed to flicker warningly at him as Joe gazed at the door in front of him. Hesitation overtook him, and not for the first time, Joe pondered on what exactly he would say to the girl detective who had so consumed his thoughts for the past few days. After thinking about her and his feelings for her so much and turning over thoughts of his revelations about her in his mind so often in the past few days, Joe couldn't help fearing he wouldn't be able to stop blurting out his thoughts to her in his nervousness. He had never been good at keeping things from Nancy anyway. Once, during a case involving a close friend of Nancy, Frank had entrusted Joe with the mission of attempting to casually extract information about the friend from Nancy, while still keeping Nancy in the dark about their suspicions. Oh he had tried to be as surreptitious and as cool about it as possible, but Nancy had known something was up the moment he opened his mouth. In the end, Nancy had ended up being the one doing the pushing, poking, and prodding, before Joe finally cracked and told her the truth.

Joe couldn't help chuckling wryly at the memory of Nancy's earnest blue eyes blinking so innocently as she sweetly managed to wrangle the truth from him. Later, when the case was solved, and the true criminal caught, Joe had curiously inquired as to how Nancy had known he was hiding something when he was talking to her. Brushing a wayward curl away from her face, Nancy hadn't even tried to hide her broad grin.

"Joe Hardy, your eyes are an open book. All one has to do is look in them, I mean really look in them, and read what's really going on."

Joe had harrumphed uncomfortably at this, slightly put off at THAT alarming information— after all, who wanted eyes as open as books when fighting against criminals on a day to day basis—when Nancy giggled and patted his arm consolingly.

"Don't worry, you can lie pretty well, Joe. It's just that people who know you really well can always tell when you're lying, I can guarantee it."

With Nancy's eyes twinkling in amusement at his disgruntled expression and her soft hand warming his arm, Joe hadn't been able to help returning her smile with interest. But oddly enough, he found he was able to lie quite easily to his friends. It appeared only Nancy, and of course Frank, had the ability to read past Joe's blinders when he put them up deliberately.

Not that he was surprised by Nancy's uncanny intuitiveness where he was concerned anymore. Now he realized that her ability to see past his walls was what made him fall for her in the first place. The only problem, Joe thought dismally, was that he couldn't afford for her to see past his barriers this time.

Raising his clenched fist, Joe took a deep breath and finally, finally, knocked on the deep mahogany that was Nancy's door.

"Just a minute!"

Her voice. It was really was like music in his ears, Joe realized with a shock, sinking deeper into depression with the realization. He was so in over his head.

No, you can't think like that. You're calm, relaxed, in control. Calm, in control. Calm. Control.

Joe repeated the mantra to himself as he awaited Nancy's arrival, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels and running an anxious hand through his rumpled blond mop. Suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, the door swung open and there she stood. Hair pulled back away from her face in a loose pony-tail, make-up long since wiped off, the only evidence left being the smudge of mascara on her eyelid, and collared white dress shirt tucked casually into boyfriend jeans. Nancy. All thoughts of relaxation, calm, and control flew from Joe's mind like so many paper airplanes and Joe gulped. This wasn't going to be easy—no, not at all.

"Hi Nancy," Joe croaked, smiling what he hoped was a convincing Joe Hardy smirk.

Nancy's eyes widened in surprise, obviously not expecting to see him, and she squinted curiously at him as she rested a hand on the door frame.

"Joe? What are you doing here?"

Despite himself, Joe couldn't help flinching at the blunt words, and he struggled to keep the smirk in place as he responded.

"Hey, now is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Blinking confusedly, apparently still in a muddled state of mind, Nancy shook her head.

"Sorry Joe, it's just that—well, I wasn't exactly expecting anyone at this hour except room service." Nancy explained, giving a sheepish, embarrassed smile.

"Aw, come on Nancy, surely your nights aren't THAT boring," Joe joked, as he casually leaned against the door frame, watching Nancy's back as she turned and headed back into her room.

Rolling her eyes, Nancy shook her head in exasperation, twisting her head to meet Joe's eyes as he stood in the doorway.

"Now are you going to rag on me about not getting out to party, or are you going to come in?"

Joe couldn't help but laugh at Nancy's sarcastic monotone, and he sauntered casually into the room, letting the door click shut behind him. So far, so good, he thought, and Joe silently congratulated himself on his acting skills. At the rate he was going, Nancy would never suspect anything was up. Just don't look her in the eyes…

"Soo, if you aren't out partying, what ARE you up to tonight?" Joe asked, as he crossed the room in easy strides to where Nancy stood crouched over her bed as she busily folded shirts.

"Oh just packing." Nancy answered nonchalantly as she struggled to stuff an oversized purse into her suitcase.

"Packing? You leaving sooner than planned?" Joe struggled to keep his voice light and void of accusation as he picked up the complimentary Marriot pen from Nancy's bedside and leaned against the flowered wall-papered wall in front of Nancy, clicking the pen up and down as he watched her work.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you. I'm actually leaving tomorrow, instead of next Monday." Nancy replied absently, as she glanced around the room, searching for any objects left out to be packed.

"I see. Any reason why you're leaving early?" Joe asked, blue eyes mild, simply curious.

"Well, I just think that I need to head back. Got some things to take care of at home, and besides, I've been here since Thursday." Nancy replied, closing her suitcase with a sharp click. It was strange, but for a minute there, Joe thought he saw Nancy's hands shake as she folded her clothes for the next morning. What was up?

"What, bored of Bayport already? Whatever happened to the Nancy who said this was one of her favorite spots in the world to relax in?" Joe let a half-smile slip across his face, while doing his best not to appear to be hanging on to Nancy's every word.

Glancing up to meet Joe's eyes, Nancy hesitated and for a moment, Joe thought he could detect a hint of guilt in her blue eyes.

"Yeah, well as much as I love Bayport, I really need to get going. There's a lot of planning and preparation, things for me to get done, back in River Heights before…." Nancy's voice trailed off, and she abruptly shifted away from Joe's gaze as she dropped to her knees, appearing to look for some misplaced heels. But Joe noted she also could very handily avoid his gaze in that position as well.

However, Joe wasn't interested in Nancy's packing, not that he ever had been since the moment Nancy opened her mouth, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the bent form in front of him.

"Preparation? Before what? What's up, Nancy?" Joe bent down, deliberately placing himself directly in Nancy's face, and she jerked in slight surprise as she raised her head from beneath the bed.

"Uh…ok, it's been sort of a split second decision. But I just received an offer." Nancy bit her lip, and took a deep breath, and this time Joe knew he wasn't just imagining the guilty nervousness hidden in the depth of her eyes.

"The School of Scientific Studies of Human Behavior has offered me a full scholarship if I attended their school in England for at least a year."

Joe could literally feel his jaw drop, and he jumped to his feet, towering over Nancy, blue eyes accusing.

"You're actually accepting? Why? What about your friends, family? What about Frank?"

Defensively, Nancy raised herself from the floor as well, meeting Joe's gaze with a hint of fire in her eyes.

"Oh come on, Joe. You know it's that ideal opportunity we've always dreamed about getting. The publicity the school will receive from having me attend will cover all the expenses and I'll get the chance to learn more about the criminal mind than I'll ever get here!"

Unwilling to back down just yet, Joe desperately tried to think of what to say. He had to be careful, couldn't let anything slip, but he wanted—needed to convince her to stay. Even if he had to pull the Frank card.

"I know, I know, and that's great, really. But what about—" Joe gulped, and awkwardly glanced down at his feet, before rising his eyes to meet Nancy's "what about Frank? I mean, y'all just got together…can you really go tripping off to some school in Europe and leave him right when you finally have him?" Joe tried for nonchalance as he let himself lean against the walls of Nancy's hotel room. He hated having to remind Nancy, and himself, about her newly formed relationship with his brother, but he would do anything to keep her from leaving. For, at least as Frank's girlfriend, Joe could see her at breaks, during respites from cases. During the holiday's, it would hurt to see Nancy under Frank's arm, but at least he would see Nancy. Yes, Joe mentally shook his head, he had to make sure she stayed.

Nancy's eyes widened, and she peered closely at Joe.

"What do you mean, what about Frank?"

Now it was Joe's turn to look confused, and he heaved himself away from the wall to take a half-step toward the girl detective.

"Um, you know, Frank. Hotshot detective, new boyfriend, my brother? Frank." Joe half-jokingly clarified, teeth flashing in a smirk as he watched for Nancy's reaction.

Shaking her head in bewilderment, Nancy's expression of surprise didn't flit off her face with a smile at Joe's attempt at wit.

"Wait, I thought you said you talked with Frank tonight. Didn't he tell you? We—" Nancy took a deep breath, and Joe felt his heart begin to pound heavily in his chest as he stared at her bent head. "we're not together anymore." Nancy's quiet statement made Joe literally stumble back, and Joe couldn't help his eyes widened in surprise and shock.

"You've GOT to be kidding me! But, but you two were so in love! It was everything you wanted, how could you—" Joe paused, taking a deep breath, and squinted suspiciously at the bent, blonde head in front of him. Leaning down, Joe couldn't stop himself. Stretching out a slightly shaking hand, Joe gently placed his hand under Nancy's chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

"What did Frank do, Nancy?"

Sudden tears filled Nancy's eyes, and Joe felt his chest hurt at the sight of them. But before he could react, Nancy jerked her head away from Joe's hand, moving to step back. The simple action seemed to suddenly put miles of distance between them, and Joe winced internally.

"It wasn't Frank fault, Joe. We just didn't work out." Nancy turned her head, eyes now dry and looking more defiant, as if daring Joe to make another comment.

However, Joe didn't buy it. He couldn't. How could Nancy be taking this, giving up without a fight? It hurt to say it, but he wanted her to be happy, and he would fix Nancy and Frank even if it broke his heart. Swallowing hard, Joe shook his head, eyes boring intently into Nancy's even as she tried to glance away.

"Come on Nancy, you've loved Frank forever, how can you give that up over a simple misunderstanding, or something?"

Nancy's eyes softened, and if she looked guilty before, she looked positively stricken now. A deep sigh blew out past her lips, and Joe felt a sudden alarm at the weary expression on Nancy's face.

"Joe, I have to give him up. It's…it's something I realized I have to do. For the good of everyone."

"But, what about…but—" Joe didn't know how to respond to THAT, and he desperately racked his mind for another excuse. His whole world was shifting with this simple declaration. In all the imaginary scenarios Joe had made up on the drive here, he had never seen this one coming, and he wasn't sure how to respond. Nancy's eyes suddenly turned wary, a strange spark coming into them. "But that doesn't mean you have to go all the way to Europe!" Joe finished lamely.

For a brief second, Nancy's face fell, and then, abruptly, a mask fell down across her face.

"Joe, this is the best way. Please, try to understand. I just—I just need to get away from everything. It's been too much lately, and this trip—well I think it'll help me clear my head, get my priorities straight again." The mask shifted just a bit, and Nancy's eyes watered as she hastily rubbed a hand across her eyes.

But Joe couldn't let her do this. If he couldn't get her to stay for Frank's sake—suddenly Joe paused to wonder. Frank. How could he have not said anything about Nancy and his break up? He hadn't even acted any differently…or had he? Looking back, Joe suddenly could see the sadness that had been lying just behind Frank's eyes. That hint of pain as Frank oh-so-casually mentioned Nancy's change of plans. It had been there, hadn't it? But no sooner had that thought floated through his mind, when Joe snapped around to face Nancy who had gone back to busily arranging her things in preparation for her departure.

"But, I'm sure you can make it work between Frank. You just need a little time. I mean, Frank can really screw things up sometimes, but he knows a good thing when he sees one..You can't just give up!" Joe's ramblings trailed off as Nancy let her head hang down for a moment. Taking a deep breath, the blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she faced Joe.

"Joe..you have to understand…it just—It just isn't going to work. Not now, not ever. So please, just—just leave it alone." Nancy paused, and swiped at her eyes, before turning briskly away and bending down to straighten her bedcovers. "Besides, I'm going to Europe, and that's that."

No—no, this couldn't be happening. Joe felt his whole world shifting between his feet as he struggled to find his footing like a man suddenly finding himself in a pit of quicksand. Dazed, confused, and desperate to keep her from making such a rash decision, Joe searched for something, anything to stop her.

"Ok, ok, so don't stay for Frank. But what about me?"