A/N: Sorry about all the cliffies :) They're sorta my specialty, but hopefully you won't think this one is so bad...maybe. Thanks for reading and reviewing guys! Your comments make my day!

Con was working with Joe and Tony; he had tried calling Nancy back several times, Frank as well, but earned no answer from either of them. He was worried now. No one had seen them around the lab, no one had heard any reasoning for them being late. He had half hoped that Frank had somehow conned Nancy into a dinner before their shift started, and they had only lost track of time.

It was an odd feeling. The thought of Frank with Nancy, on a possible date, bothered him. He didn't know why, it shouldn't concern him. But it did. So he had occupied himself. Done something to keep his thoughts from straying to the unthinkable. He had a rancid taste in his mouth, little did he know it was the same taste both Joe and Tony had in their mouths as well.

The trio had combed the car over twice, every last part. They had only turned up a few scare fibers, ones that they were certain already were accounted for. They had nothing new. This was where Chief Collig found them.

They could tell by the look on his face that he had news, news he didn't want to share, but had to. He leaned on the frame of the doorway for a moment, taking in a breath, wondering how to start.

"We received a call, there were reports of screams, coming from near a small convenience store, five blocks from here. Report stated lights were still on even though the place closed at eight, and there were two cars out front, one belonging to the owner, and the other," he paused, drawing in another breath. "The other matches Nancy's car."

***

Nancy was expecting the gun, the deafening noise, the bullet and the blood; she had seen enough crime scenes to know what happened after the trigger was pulled. What she wasn't expecting was the hand in her hair, jerking her to her feet.

Grimacing she staggered upright, the gun still pressed against her head. She swayed slightly on her feet, but behind her, Mando made certain that she didn't fall.

"Time to go for a ride," he told her, laughing in her ear. The warmth of his breath made her shiver, as he began leading her outside.

Nancy could hear Stitch pulling Frank, dragging him. She doubted Frank had any strength left to stand, and it was clear that Stitch wasn't strong enough to keep him on his feet, as Mando was doing to her. The night air was just a shocking again, like walking out of a sauna into an ice storm. Nancy inhaled deeply through her nose, a hand pressed against her mouth kept her from crying out again. When she saw their destination, she began to struggle, trying to pull free as Mando shoved her roughly inside the already open trunk.

Before she could do anything, Frank was shoved practically on top of her, the door slamming right after, casting the two into darkness. Nancy slowly pushed herself against the far wall, allowing Frank to have more room.

Her eyes searched out for anything, trying to guide her hands in hope of anything useful. Where was her kit? She knew Frank's was at the station, he had left it there since his car had been in the auto shop. But hers was gone. The robbers must have taken it out while snooping through the vehicle earlier. That left them with nothing.

Under them, the car sputtered to life, throwing both of them against the backside of the trunk as the wheels were spun. Nancy's eyes still searched the darkness in vain. It took a moment to realize that the shaking she felt was not from the road beneath the vehicle.

"Frank," she stammered, leaning over him a little. She was using her elbows to prop herself up.

When no answer came she called him again, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Frank, you're shaking," she stated plainly, moving her hands up to his forehead.

"G..guess I am, huh," he replied softly, stuttering.

"You're like ice," she continued on as if he had never spoken. Frank wasn't just shaking, he was trembling. His breathing hitched with each breath he took, short broken breaths inward, and an inhuman wheezing as he let them out.

Nancy could only conclude one thing. Frank was going into shock. She started to panic, only to curse herself. She couldn't panic now. Nancy racked her brains, trying to remember what she knew about people who were going into shock, and how to help them. Nothing.

Cursing again, Nancy scooted closer to him, looping her bound arms around him, bringing them down to rest against his chest as she positioned herself so that her head rested on his shoulder.

"W…what are y…you doing?" Frank stuttered again, struggling to talk and breath at the same time.

"Keeping you warm," Nancy answered, rubbing his bare arms with her hands. She could feel the goose bumps easily.

"Not…cold," he started, but didn't finish.

"Frank," Nancy called to him, moving up rub his forehead gently. She ran her hands through his hair, somewhat surprised at how soft it felt, considering the amount of gel he had to use in order to style it.

"Talk to me Frank, don't fall asleep on me."

"About w…what?" Frank's voice was faint, almost hard to hear, in sharp contrast to his loud irregular breaths.

"Anything," Nancy said quickly, knowing that she had to keep him engaged. "What about the field?" she asked then, knowing that Frank enjoyed the field, and had been working hard at his new position as lead detective. "How do you think you're doing?"

She felt Frank shrug under her, a good sign she figured.

"Okay I g…guess. I…I just want t…to be able to do some…thing right…for once," he wheezed, still shaking against her.

Nancy went back to rubbing his arms, trying to keep him warm. It frightened her, how cold he was. Almost like he was…no, she couldn't, wouldn't think like that. Swallowing she answered him.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she told him gently, smiling in spite of herself. "You're still learning. I mean, if you did everything right, I think you'd scare Con out of Bayport."

Frank laughed softly, but became solemn again, "Yeah…but n…not everything…just…somethings. L…look at you…y…you never mess up. You're perfect."

"I'm far from perfect," she smiled softly, "though I wouldn't mind being so."

"Name the l…last time you messed…up," Frank challenged her.

"Okay, when I blew up at George, then at Collig, after blowing up in front of the suspect. It was worse then, because I knew it was wrong."

Frank laughed again, "T…that wasn't…a mess…that was sweet."

"Yeah," Nancy laughed, nudging him, "your definition of sweet is also Ezra Collig's term for pink slip." She was still laughing as she laid her head on top of his, closing her eyes.

"Your hair smells sweet," Nancy remarked before she realized what she was saying. She felt herself blush soon afterwards.

"Baby shampoo," Frank muttered, sighing under her.

"You use baby shampoo?" Nancy asked, opening her eyes.

"Yeah…" he started, "works nice…doesn't sting y…your eyes."

"Well, you're not supposed to put shampoo in your eyes," Nancy taunted him, waiting for a response. None came.

"Frank?" she asked, lifting her head up. "Frank, don't sleep, stay with me." Still no response came. "Frank?" His breathing had eased, and she knew that he had passed out, his body unable to keep up with his injuries.

Laying her head back down on his, she drew him into a gently, yet secure hold as tears began pressing against her closed eyes. Below, she could feel the car change direction again, and she could only wonder where they were being taken too now, and if Frank would even be with her still when they arrived.