Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.

Thank you: Wendylouwho10 who read over the story for me and made content suggestions, helped with the flow, and provided some spelling/grammar corrections. Typos are mine and I discover them all the time. :-)

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is blue spine-ish and AU. Timeline: Taken; Recovery; Retribution; Wild Pitch; and now this story. While you don't NEED to read the previous stories, things will be referenced and perhaps even some from my younger Hardys stories.

Author's Note: I know it's a short chapter... but the next one is double the length! And I know some of you wish there was more Frank/Joe interaction but with their covers, it just isn't possible. *sigh* But just imagine all they'll have to talk about once this mission is over! :-)


Chapter Seventeen

Saturday night found Joe sitting in his same spot working to control his fight night jitters. His leg bounced with energy as he leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. Bobby was currently in a match which had left him in the silence that he liked in a situation like this. While it was nice having Bobby around as a source of information and he had to admit, a superficial friendship, sometimes the boy just didn't know when to be quiet. Joe stilled his knee and cracked an eye open to look over at the space where Frank's group was. With both Frank and Marcus fighting back to back, the group was working to instill confidence and calm in the two teens. Joe smiled to himself as he let his eye close. Like Frank needed any help being calm for something like this.

It was interesting that Frank was part of a group and he was sitting over to the side… a loner. I guess I have been a little more introverted the last year, Joe thought. He shook his head as if dislodging the thoughts that wanted to push into his mind. He had become a little closed over the last year due to his depression, but it wasn't who he was and this was just part of his cover. Hearing his name and that of Marcus Dupree called, he stood and walked alone to the door. Meanwhile Marcus, with his group of friends, followed behind him making sure Joe knew that he was alone.

Following the staff member, Joe popped in his mouthguard. A smile was on his face as he walked down the hallway because he might look like he was alone, but he knew that he really wasn't. Frank was coming out to watch the match under the guise that he was getting a feel for Joe's fighting style. But Frank already knew it. This was all about Frank being there for him in the one way he could right now. Joe's smile grew as he climbed into the ring. He turned and found Frank and gave him a salute. He knew that the others would just think he's was being cocky, but Frank would know differently.

Joe turned to focus on the official as he checked gloves and equipment and then the bell rang.

.**********.

Frank only stared at his brother as he gave him a salute. Mutterings about Joe's parentage came to his ears. He tuned them out as he looked at his brother. Joe's eye and side were still discolored and Marcus was planning on attacking those areas. Frank prayed that the cut over Joe's eye would stay closed.

The fight began and Frank followed every move. He worked to control his reactions as Joe took several hits to his torso. Joe began a series of moves where he did a small kick to either the inside or outside of Marcus' left knee and then moved back. What are you doing, Joe? Frank asked himself. You're telegraphing your moves; Marcus is going to clock you if you keep this up. And indeed, Marcus came close to doing just that as the time in the match wound down.

.**********.

Joe danced back. That last jab to his face had hurt. It was time to switch things up and hopefully, Marcus would still be expecting the kick. Joe feinted forward giving the impression that he was going to do a leg kick but instead he spun himself around. The back of his left fist connected with Marcus' jaw. With the momentum he generated, the spinning backfist packed a lot of power. Marcus went down in a heap and Joe moved to continue the fight on the ground when the ref grabbed him and held him back. His opponent was out like the proverbial light.

Realizing this was the perfect opportunity to build up a match with Frank, he turned to scan the crowd. His eyes locked with his brother and he raised his arm and pointed at him. Frank didn't acknowledge him at all but turned to head back to the locker room. His match would be coming up in less than ten minutes.

Joe watched Frank walk away and then looked for Vanessa. Seeing her at the bottom of the stairs, he moved to exit the ring. It took him a moment to get to her as many of the audience were congratulating him on the win. When he did get to Vanessa, he didn't pick her up this time as he knew that would only lead to another kiss. Instead, he just smiled at her. "I'm going to go towel off and get a shirt. I'll come back out to watch Winder's fight."

"Okay," she said.

He could see her checking for additional bruising. "I'm okay. Maybe a new bruise on the chin, but that's about it." Joe turned to see Marcus making his way to the locker room. "Could have been worse," he added.

"I know," Vanessa said and then gave him a light push. "Better go ahead or you won't get back in time."

Five minutes later, he was back, taking a spot against the wall near the corridor. The locker room had been decidedly unfriendly when he went in. Marcus appeared to still be disoriented and the group of friends glared at him. He had quickly toweled off, put on his t-shirt, and left. Vanessa arrived to stand beside him just moments after he took up his post.

"There's an awful lot of talk about you and Winder going around. The crowd is looking forward to seeing what his reaction will be during this match and after," Vanessa whispered to him as she linked her arm with his.

"I'm sure that David will keep the hype going," Joe whispered back.

The sound of footsteps and voices came from the hallway and within seconds, Frank emerged followed by Daquan Whitaker. Joe had learned that Daquan had won a headliner match and two other high level matches in order to be paired with Frank. This would be his first time in the Main Event. He had been greatly irritated that Joe was being groomed for a Main Event match with so little time spent in the organization. Joe had no idea what would happen if Daquan won here. Would Joe be pitted against Daquan the following week or would they keep Frank because of the obvious animosity between the two of them. Joe shook his head as he realized there was just as much pressure on Frank to win this match as he had had to win his.

Joe watched Frank go calmly and quietly into the ring while Daquan seemed to be a bundle of nervous energy bouncing constantly on the balls of his feet. Joe wondered if he looked similar at the start of his matches.

The bell sounded and Joe watched as Frank moved with a fluid grace that belied the power of his moves. There was no move that didn't connect with its target and the punches that Daquan threw rarely met with Frank's body. At the end of the first round, Daquan was breathing heavily. Frank began the second round the same as the first. The kicks he landed on Whitaker had much more effect than those that Joe had landed on Dupree. And then it was over. It ended in blur. One moment both men were standing and then Frank kicked his right foot up to the side of Whitaker's head. It was a sharp precise movement and it ended with Daquan on the mat.

Joe had always known that Frank was good with his kicks. Now, for the first time, he saw what his brother could do when he wasn't worried about hurting his little brother. It was sobering indeed. He watched as his brother raised both arms up in victory and he could hear the shouts of his fans. Then he turned to find Joe. In just a couple of strides Frank jumped and then climbed the fencing to sit astride the padded bar that ran around the ring. Frank hit his chest a couple of times and then pointed at Joe. The message was clear to those watching.

Never taking his eyes off his grandstanding brother, Joe whispered, "I'm going to get my stuff. I really don't want to be in the locker room when they come back in." Then he turned and went down the dark corridor. It was going to happen. He and Frank would be fighting the following week. To provide Vanessa with the time she needed, they had to fight at least four rounds if not all of them. Joe wasn't looking forward to it.