Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"Don't want to interrupt anything," Joe said, grinning as he eyed his parents' intertwined fingers. It never ceased to warm him to see how affectionate his parents were to each other, even after all these years.

Fenton laughed. "Sit down and let your mother interrogate you properly. She's been watching the clock all evening."

Joe sank down beside his mother and let out a long breath.

"Are you all right?" his mother asked as she study his face closely. "You're looking tired."

"I feel a little tired," Joe admitted, resting his head back against the couch.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be doing so much yet," his mother said gently. "You were quite sick, you know."

"Don't remind me. I'm fine, Mom. It's just that I had a bit of a time at the Center, that's all."

Laura slipped her arm around her son's waist and pulled him closer. "Want to tell us about it?"

"It's really nothing," Joe said.

Laura smiled as she felt his weight relaxing unconsciously against her side. Her little boy was not so little anymore, and the times that he needed the comfort of her arms were becoming few and far in between. How she missed the days when he had pulled at her heartstrings by a simple declaration of 'I need a hug'. Though it had been years since her son had last verbalized these words, she had seen the unspoken plea in his eyes from time to time. And during those times, she would draw him into her arms without a word and hold him close, while feeling ridiculously grateful for her child's continued need for her.

"You don't want to talk about it?" Laura asked gently.

She felt the slight shake of his head. "Not right now. I need to think a bit."

"It's not trouble, is it?" Laura asked anxiously. The idea of Joe spending so much time at the Youth Center still provoked in her a certain sense of unease. She knew her maternal instinct might be overreacting, but Joe was her baby, and always would be.

Joe shook his head again. "No, not trouble. Don’t' worry, Mom. It's really nothing."

Laura decided not to press him further. Instead, she patted him on the hand. "Why not go to bed early then?"

"Think I just might do that," Joe said, as he stood up, only half-successful at stifling a yawn. "Night, Mom, Dad."

Laura gave his hand a small squeeze. "Good-night, honey."

Fenton gave his son's leg a playful swat. "Night, Joe."

He was barely into his room before Frank's head peeked in from the bathroom door.

"Hey, you're finally home," his brother greeted him.

"What do you mean finally? It's barely ten o'clock ," Joe said, sounding indignant.

Frank laughed. "Seems like later than that. How did it go at the Center?"

Joe did not immediately answer as he stared down at his clothes-laden bed with a frown. In one movement, he shook the comforter, sending all the clothes scattering onto the floor. Nodding with satisfaction, he fell onto the hastily cleared bed with a loud sigh.

Frank looked at his brother, shaking his head. "I can't believe you just did that."

Joe grinned up at him. "Pretty ingenious, huh?"

Frank was still shaking his head as he settled into a chair by Joe's desk, prodding at some of the offending clothing articles with his foot. "I don't know why Mom and Dad even bothered getting you a chest of drawers. You don’t' keep any of your clothes in there anyway."

"Hey, I can easily pick out what I want to wear with one glance instead of wasting time opening drawers," Joe said smugly.

"I am sure there are some yet to be discovered species under those clothes," Frank said, eyeing the mess on the floor warily. He wondered, briefly, how his brother could distinguish between what was clean and what was not, but then decided that he really didn't want to know. He suddenly thought of their mother with newfound admiration. It took courage to venture into this room on laundry day.

"So, how was it being back at the Center after such an absence?" Frank repeated his earlier inquiry.

The smile disappeared from Joe's face. "Not too good, I'm afraid."

"Why, what happened?" Frank asked. 'Not having trouble, are you?"

Joe had to laugh at his brother's choice of words. "What is it with you and Mom? Why do you immediately think of trouble when I'm involved?"

Frank cocked his brow. "I'd answer that question, but it would probably take me all night."

"Not nice, Frank," Joe said, casting a less-than-pleased look at his brother.

Frank grinned. "Nothing personal, little brother. Just stating the truth. So what happened at the Center? Were you accosted by the psychedelic Bobbsey Twins again?"

In spite of himself, Joe flushed at his brother's question, thereby answering Frank's question without even opening his mouth.

Frank laughed out loud. "What's happening to you, Joe? I thought you like it when girls pay attention to you."

"Not that kind of attention," Joe muttered.

"I really wish I could see them in action one of these days. To get Joe Hardy blushing is no easy feat," Frank continued to grin.

Joe glared at him. "Maybe next time you should come with me to the Center and I'll just feed you to them. There won't be any bones left by the time they're done with you."

"Nah, I'm sure they only have eyes for you," Frank said, shaking his head. "I'll just enjoy myself on the sideline." He continued to study his brother. "There's something else, isn't there? Cough it up, little brother."

Joe let out a long breath and did not immediately answer.

Frank pulled the chair closer to the bed and waited patiently for his brother to respond.

"I thought I was helping," Joe said quietly after lengthy silence. "I guess I patted myself on the back too soon."

Frank frowned. "What do you mean? At the Center? Of course you are helping. What makes you think you are not?"

"I thought Jason and I had built up some sort of rapport with each other. Then tonight, he basically told me where to go," Joe continued in the same quiet tone.

Frank could hear the hurt in his brother's voice. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"

After an initial pause, Joe recounted to Frank the short but disturbing scene that he had with Jason. His brother listened without interruption. By the time that Joe had finished, the frown on Frank's face had deepened into a scowl.

"Guess I totally struck out with Jason, huh?" Joe asked dryly, glancing at his brother.

"You did your best, Joe," Frank said. "You can't force a person to accept help if he doesn’t want it, and obviously, this Jason kid doesn't want your help, or anybody else's, I would imagine."

Joe crinkled his brows. "But he was so happy when we finished that project. You should have seen his face, Frank, when we got that motor to work. And now he's just going to give up on everything. He's only fifteen, Frank. What's he going to do if he quits school now? What kind of future is he going to have?"

"Maybe his dad might be able to convince to stay in school," Frank offered.

Joe snorted. "Convince him? How? With his fists? And that's what's worrying me. What if his dad really gives it to him this time? Jason can get seriously hurt." Joe looked at his brother helplessly. "Do I just sit back and let that happen?"

"You can't be sure that his dad will do that," Frank pointed out.

"He's done it before and I can't see somebody like that changing their ways overnight." Joe suddenly slammed his fist down onto the bed in total frustration. "Ah, hell! Jason told me to butt out so maybe that's what I should do. Why am I killing myself over this? The kid wants me out of his life and maybe that's what I should do. Obviously, he doesn't want me sticking my nose into his affairs. Maybe this whole volunteer thing is a sham. How much can I help? Those kids are stuck in that environment and things are not going to be changed because of the few measly hours that I spend with them each week. What about the rest of the people around them? Their parents, teachers, friends? If those people don't seem to care, then what good is my help?"

Frank was taken back by this sudden uncharacteristic show of pessimism by Joe. His brother had always been the consummate optimist, the one who would look forward to the rainbow even at the beginning of a storm. The confrontation with Jason must have really taken its toll on Joe.

"Hey, little brother, it's not like to you to give up so easily. So Jason has rejected your help. What about the others? You can't give up on all of them because you've had one setback. It's not fair to the others," Frank said quietly. "If everybody takes that kind of attitude, then the whole Center would cease to exist. You can't expect to win everybody over. If you manage to help even just one kid there, then the time that you've spent there has been worthwhile."

Joe looked at his brother with uncertainty. "I don't know, Frank. What if the other kids feel the same way as Jason? What if they all think that I'm just a busybody with too much time on my hands?"

"Do you feel that kind of attitude from the other kids? Have they all stopped turning to you for help?" Frank asked.

Joe shook his head slowly. "No, no, they have not. I was busy tonight with the other kids, after Jason left the Center."

"Well, there you go," Frank said simply. "You've settled your own doubts." Frank reached over and patted his brother on the shoulder. "Don't underestimate what you've done, little brother. The fact that you chose a place like the Center to do your volunteer work was pretty gutsy on your part. There were a lot of other choices, easier choices."

"Yeah, well, I never like doing things the easy way," Joe said with a grudging smile.

"Hey, don't I know it?" Frank smiled.

"So what do I do about Jason?" Joe asked after a pause.

"Do you have to do anything?" Frank asked. "He did tell you to butt out."

Joe frowned. "I'm just worried how his father will deal with him."

"Why don't you speak to Carl about your concerns? Maybe he might be in a better position to do something if Jason's dad does get physical," Frank suggested.

Joe suddenly grinned. "Why didn't I think of that before? Maybe he can contact the Social Services Department or something."

"We may be jumping the gun here and getting ourselves all concerned for nothing. Maybe Jason will work things out with his dad."

Joe didn't look convinced. "Maybe, but I highly doubt it. Jason wasn't in a very conciliatory mood tonight and I am certain his father is no tamed bunny either, considering his previous behaviour and actions."

"Why don't I go down with you to the Center tomorrow and see how things go? Who knows? Maybe Jason just had a tough night tonight. He may be more receptive the next time you see him," Frank said.

"You think so?" Joe asked.

Frank shrugged. "We won't know until we see him."

"If we see him," Joe said. "Yeah, I think I'll go down to the Center tomorrow and see if I can track him down."

"We will both go," Frank corrected.

Joe looked at his brother and grinned. "Thanks, brother. I can always count on you."

Frank returned the smile. "I certainly hope so or else what good am I? I think it's time for bed, little brother. That was your fifth yawn in as many minutes."

"It's the company, Frank," Joe said, laughing as he ducked a mocked swing from his brother.

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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.