Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe ran a full block in a breathless sprint before his aches and pains caught up with him. Forcing himself to slow down, he gasped at the cold air tearing into his heated lungs and was instantly launched into a protracted bout of coughing.

Hugging his aching ribs, he groaned out loud. "Oh, great, Hardy, you're such a loser that even your own body is picking on you today."

He jammed his hands into his pockets and shivered, suddenly aware that the windbreaker that he was wearing wasn't going to give him much protection against the January cold. He wondered, with no small amount of bitterness, if his jacket was keeping a certain girl warm and snug on this winter's day. A girl, who, by all rights, should have been eternally grateful for his selfless intervention, but instead, had literally taken the shirt off his back.

He suddenly fumed. How could Frank have said those things to him? His brother was treating him as if this whole thing was his fault, that he went looking for trouble. Oh yeah, Frank, I was bored stiff waiting around for you so I decided to pick a fight with a few thugs, making sure beforehand that I would be out-numbered. Fair fights are sooo boring! My skin is too pale anyway and needed colouring. The bruises work quite well, don't they, big brother? Cheaper than tattoos, you know, and I won't need them lasered off if I get tired of them.

Man, it was cold! He tried burrowing deeper into his jacket, but the cold air penetrated right through the thin material. Not too bright, Hardy, running out into the cold like this. He was certainly giving Frank more ammunition to fire at him. Common sense told him that he should head home before he turned into an icicle, but stubborn pride was telling him otherwise, and he found himself moving farther and farther away from the house.

He had half-expected Frank to follow him after he ran out of the house, as his older brother had done so often in the past after one of their spats. Almost against his will, he glanced behind him. There was no sign of Frank. Fine, then, he would just continue freezing his butt off, out here, by himself.

Unable to help himself, his thoughts wandered back to the exchange of heated words and he shook his head in angry bewilderment. It was so unlike Frank to act in such a way. He had expected sympathy, and plenty of fussing, from his older brother once the truth was revealed about his one or two bruises. Instead, his brother had been angry, and Frank was not one to easily lose his cool. What happened this time?

He thought back to the events of the previous evening. Was he as big a fool as Frank had made him out to be? Yes, he acted without thinking, but someone's life had been in danger, or so he thought. How was he to know that it was a sick game that they were playing?

Even Biff had agreed that his reaction had been natural in the circumstances. His friend had certainly been way more sympathetic and understanding than Frank, and Frank was his big brother, the protective big brother that had shared countless dangerous and often life-threatening situations with him. Frank should know then, more than anybody else, how that split second decision could mean life or death. Sometimes there was simply no time to think.

Frank had not been there last night. He did not hear that scream. Joe could feel his cooling anger simmering to the top again. Frank had no right to condemn his actions so readily. It was easy for him to pass judgement after the fact, but how would he have handled the situation if he had been there?

And big brother, I have seen you jump into the midst of things without second thoughts, especially when you think I am in some sort of danger. Joe's angry reverie jolted to an abrupt stop at this last thought. He shook his head irritably. He would never doubt Frank's at times overwhelming concern for him, but that did not give his brother the right to make him feel like a total dimwit who was always plowing mindlessly into danger. He might not be at Frank's genius level of intellect, but he was certainly no bumbling fool.

At the back of his mind, he knew he was being unfair to his brother. Frank might get irate with him, quite often, but Frank was not mean, and never had been. In fact, Frank took serious issue with anyone who dared to be mean to his little brother, and that sort of protectiveness was a security blanket that Joe had cherished while he was growing up. Who was he kidding? It was something that he still deeply cherished.

Joe stopped and stood shivering as he stared down at the snow covered ground. The anger was dissipating, leaving behind only the cold. With a long shaky exhalation, he turned and began to head back in the direction of the house.

"He's been out there a while," Frank said, looking at his mother across the kitchen table where they were sharing a fresh pot of coffee.

Laura was beginning to worry as well. "I know, and he only has his thin jacket on. He's going to catch a cold if he doesn't come in soon."

"He already has one," Frank said unhappily.

"You better go and bring him back, and I better go out and pick up a new jacket for him," Laura said, draining the last of her coffee. "He will need it for school tomorrow.

Frank stood up quickly and then stopped. "Maybe you should go get him, Mom. I don't think he's too happy with me right now. You know him. He just might start running in the opposite direction if he sees me. I'll go and pick up the jacket for him. Besides, he will probably want lunch when he gets back since he didn't eat breakfast this morning, and I think he'd prefer your cooking to mine."

Laura smiled and patted his hand. "You are a good brother, Frank. Let me go and get you some money for the jacket. You know which store we bought the last one?"

"I was with you when you bought it," Frank reminded.

Laura laughed. "Okay, senility strikes again."

Frank smiled. "We love you just the same."

"I hope you remember that when I am really senile," Laura laughed again.

As Frank backed the van out of the driveway, he saw the familiar figure in the distance. The kid is going to catch pneumonia if he stays out there any longer, Frank thought to himself, shaking his head. He played briefly with the idea of picking up his brother and driving the short distance back to the house, but he wasn't sure how Joe would react to the offer. Better give him more time to cool down that temper of his. Don't want to send him running off again.

"Oh, thank goodness you are home, " Laura greeted her younger son. "I was just about to come out to look for you."

"I haven't forgotten the way home," Joe muttered as he fumbled with the zipper of his jacket with his numb fingers.

"I know you can find your way home," Laura said grimly. "I was just concerned that you might freeze to death before you found your way home."

Joe looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, Mom."

"That's the second time now in less than a day that you've come home half-frozen. Are you determined to get pneumonia?" Laura asked, half in exasperation and half in concern as she watched her shivering son.

As if to confirm her fears, Joe began to cough in earnest.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you? Come on into the kitchen and I will make you something warm to eat," Laura shook her head. "How does chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwich sound?"

"That sounds great," Joe said, glancing around warily. He wondered where Frank was. He wasn't sure whether he was ready to face his brother yet.

"You should go to bed after lunch," Laura said as she set down the bowl of soup and sandwich before her son. "You might be able to stop that cold from taking hold if you get plenty of rest."

Joe took a careful sip of the steaming soup, feeling its soothing warmth on his scratchy throat. "Can't. Got a report to finish that's due tomorrow. Don't worry, Mom. I'm fine. I'm as strong as a bear. No cold germs are going to take me down this easily."

"Famous last words," Laura said, not sounding assured at all. "I'll make you some hot lemon tea. That should help."

"With lots of honey," Joe reminded helpfully.

Laura smiled, giving her son's bright head a fond tousle. "I know, you like a little tea with your honey."

Joe laughed and continued with his lunch.

"So are you still angry with your brother?" Laura asked rather nonchalantly.

Joe's spoon paused briefly in mid-air before dipping into the bowl again. "I haven't quite decided yet."

Laura looked at him. "That doesn't tell me much."

Joe frowned. "Let's just say that I am not quite ready to talk to him yet. I'm not really angry, but I am still upset."

"You know he's only concerned for you," Laura said gently.

"Well, there are other ways of showing his concern than telling me what an idiot I am," Joe said hotly.

"Frank wouldn't say that," Laura protested.

"He implied as much," Joe responded, scowling.

"Hmm, I think you still have some cooling down to do," Laura commented. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I don't like it when my two boys fight."

Joe frowned into his soup and finally let out a long sigh. "I don't like it either."

Laura gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "Well, that's easily remedied, don't you think?"

He looked up and smiled sheepishly at her. "Let's see if I feel more talkative later on today."

She bent down and brushed her lips against his hair. "I have the utmost faith in you."

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.