Fenton Hardy stood outside Frank’s room and observed his sons, undetected for a few moments.  A fond smile played across his face as he watched.  His intention wasn’t to ‘spy’ on them – he just loved to see them like this: unfettered by friends or pretenses, just being Frank and Joe, together.

Frank was dressed for his ‘date’ and was just attending to last minute grooming details.  He looked very handsome, Fenton admitted to himself with pride.  All the while, his younger brother, obviously still unhappy over this, kept up a liturgy of observations as he sat on Frank’s bed.

“Girls are just more trouble than they’re worth,” Joe was saying, and his brother chuckled.  “Look at all this ‘prep work,’ and you’re not even out the door, yet!”

“And so expensive!” Joe continued.  Frank rolled his eyes.  “I mean, think of all the geeky computer stuff you could buy, with what you’re about to blow on a girl!”

“Geeky computer stuff?” Frank feigned indignation as he ruffled his brother’s hair when he walked past.  Joe swatted him on the leg even as he fixed his hair again.

“Do you at least have some protection?” Joe asked out of the blue, and Fenton almost gave himself away when he just about choked. But Frank’s own reaction was just as extreme as he seemed to forget to breathe for a moment!

When he did catch his breath, he managed, “JOE!”

“Just asking,” the younger boy continued to grumble.  “Someone needs to think about these things!  I just think the whole thing is a waste of time!”

“I doubt Iola would appreciate hearing you say that,” Frank commented when he could finally talk again, and the blond teen just scowled at him.

“Why’d Iola care?  She’s not a girl…well, not really.  She’s more like one of the guys…so she’s different.”

Frank turned away from his brother so that Joe wouldn’t see the look on his face.  Like his parents, and most of their friends, he saw the barely concealed crush whenever Iola looked at Joe – which was all the time he was anywhere in the vicinity!

“What?” Joe persisted; picking up that his brother was holding back.

The older boy shrugged and said nonchalantly, “What, nothing.”

Joe pursed his lips and regarded his sibling through narrowed eyes.  “Why’d you bring Iola into this conversation, anyway?”

“What have you got against Lily, anyway?” Frank asked, deliberately changing the subject.  It wasn’t his place to point out the obvious to Joe about Iola.  Although it never ceased to amaze him, that no matter how intuitive Joe was, he never picked up on how the pretty brunette felt towards him.

“Frank!  She pushed you down the stairs!” Joe said, in disbelief that his brother seemed to have forgotten that one little detail.  “Yesterday!”

“It was an accident, she tripped—”

Joe cut his brother off.  “You always tell me I have a good intuition when it comes to people.  So how come you’re not listening to me now?”

“Because you’re jealous,” Frank said bluntly, no accusation in his voice, just observation, “and you’re letting your emotions blind your instincts.”

“J-Jealous!” Joe sputtered, standing up, and Fenton decided it was time to let his presence be known.  “Blinding my instincts—”

“Frank.  Joe,” he stepped into the room and looked at them.  “Is there a problem?”

“No problem,” Frank said quickly, glancing at his brother.

Joe glared back at him, and then looked away and muttered, “No, sir.”

“Good,” Fenton said, not pressing the issue.  Frank was getting ready to leave for his first date, and the detective did not want to mar his mood, by him having a fight with his brother, beforehand.  He looked at his older son and smiled.  “Your Mom told me.  Just be home by midnight and take your cell.”

Frank nodded and then looked at his father a bit nervously, as he tried to ignore the look his brother was giving him.  “Any last minute words of advice, Dad?”

Fenton looked at his son and felt a strange tightening in his chest.  He admired Frank for many things, but tonight as his son prepared to start a new phase in his life, he realized the thing he admired the most about him was his modesty.  Frank never saw how much he had to offer…. Handsome, intelligent, considerate, compassionate – the detective wasn’t sure it was his place to offer any him any advice. But then he saw the hint of uncertainty lurking behind the dark brown eyes….

Nodding, he put his hand on Frank’s shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.  His voice was thick and filled with pride.  “Just be yourself, son. That will always be more than enough…for anyone.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Frank said, blinking hard a couple of times, overwhelmed by the amount of emotion underlying his father’s few words; and then he cleared his throat.  “I…um, gotta go now.  Mom’s letting me use her car.”

“Good, “Fenton said, moving next to Joe and resting his hand lightly on his younger son’s shoulder.  “Have a good time, Frank, and remember…home by midnight, Cinderella!”

They heard Frank chuckling as he hurried downstairs and then Fenton looked at his younger son.  Joe was staring at the door with a frown on his face.  He slipped his arm around the teen’s neck and tousled his hair.  “Come on son, unless I’m mistaken, your evening is pretty wide open and I could use some help…if you’re interested, that is…” His voice held just the right amount of intrigue, and vibrant blue eyes caught and held his dark ones.

“With a case?  Sure!”  Joe’s face light up brightly.  Like his brother, he’d inherited the ‘detecting’ bug from their father and jumped at any opportunity to help out.

“Well good then,” Fenton beamed, pleased to see his son’s enthusiasm.  “Go grab something warm to wear and meet me downstairs in ten minutes.”

Joe didn’t need to be asked twice!

Ten minutes later, Fenton backed his car out of the driveway and he and Joe left the house.

* * *

Frank pulled up in front of a huge house and let out an appreciative whistle.  He knew that the Gettys lived in the exclusive Bayport west end, but he hadn’t been prepared for the monstrosity that was their house – although the heavy black gates that he’d had to be buzzed in through, should have forewarned him!

Parking the car next to a yellow BMW, the teen just shook his head and made his way to the door.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” he muttered, suddenly very self-conscious and wondering what Lily must have thought when she saw his house!

A few minutes later, the door was opened by Lily, and Frank felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs – she was stunning….

The gorgeous brunette was wearing a very simple black dress that accentuated her every feature as her long black hair hung loosely around her perfect face.  A small pair of diamond earrings completed the ensemble.

When she saw Frank, the smile Lily bestowed on him left him a giddy mess all over again; bewitched by her beauty.

After a moment she laughed, her blue eyes twinkling in merriment.  “What’s wrong, Frank?  Has the cat got your tongue?”

Shaking his head to break the spell, he gave a low whistle, and nodded his head.  “Yeah…I think so.”

Lily appraised Frank, equally impressed by what she saw as it reaffirmed her choice.  He was the perfect replacement for Carlos, her former boyfriend, who had moved out of Bayport at the end of the summer.

The girl had not made the selection without due diligence.  She spent a lot of time sizing up the ‘potentials’ and then for one reason or the other, disqualifying them.

Of the potentials, she excluded Tony Prito first.  Although he was a handsome boy, and fit her basic criteria, he was Italian and, with Carlos, she’d already done Italian.

Chet Morton, and Phil Cohen were also immediately disqualified – one was too bulky, the other too geeky….

That left Frank Hardy and Biff Hooper, in her age group.  She had cast a furtive look at the younger Hardy, but fifteen was too young…yet, and she decided he’d make a better boyfriend in a year or two when he finished filling out, and was at least sixteen!

Lily then spent time debating between Frank and Biff – each having his own strengths and weaknesses.  Until she finally decided Frank was the perfect choice...especially since she’d already decided her next boyfriend would be blond, and it would be gauche to do two blonds in a row!

From behind her, Frank heard another voice and recognized it as Davis’s, moments before the jock appeared in the doorway.

“Lily, when you guys—”  He cut off whatever he was going to say when he saw Frank standing there.

“Davis, I’m sure you know Frank Hardy,” Lily needlessly introduced and the older teen snorted.

“I’ve heard of him, now and then,” and then he addressed Frank:  “Rules are simple when you date my sister.  Mess with her and I mess with your family.”  He nodded curtly, turned and left.

“Wow,” Frank said after a moment; stunned by the hostility he heard in Davis’ voice and the open threat.  “He’s a little less friendly than usual.”

“Oh, never mind him,” Lily dismissed, reaching for a small black handbag and white shawl.  “Let’s say we blow this joint.”

“Sounds good to me,” Frank said, relieved that the girl didn’t want him to hang out at her house for a while before they left, not exactly feeling welcomed by Davis’ reception.  He started to head towards his mother’s car when he saw Lily stop.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, walking back towards her.

“I was just thinking of something,” the girl said as she turned her gaze on him.

“What?” he asked, a nervous little knot growing in his stomach.

“Have you ever driven stick shift?”  Her blue eyes danced as she looked deep into his dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “My dad insisted we learn standard drive, first.”  And it was true.  The old car Fenton used for stake-outs was a standard drive vehicle, and he had taught Frank and was still teaching Joe on it.  He believed very strongly that his sons should know how to drive both types of transmission.  “Why?”

Smiling secretly, Lily opened her purse, pulled out a set of keys and dangled them in front of Frank.  He looked at her questioningly.

“Well then, Mr. Hardy, I ask you again, have you ever driven stick shift, in a Beamer?” Lily pressed a small button on the key chain; Frank jumped when the yellow BMW chirped loudly next to him.

“This is your car?” he said, awed.  When Lily had dropped by his house yesterday she was driving a silver Mustang – the same one he saw her with at school.

Lily shrugged, nonchalantly.  “One of them.  This is my weekend car.” Jingling the keys, she asked again, “Wanna drive?”

How could he say no?

Moments later, the yellow car roared to life and tore out of the driveway, a very impressed Frank Hardy at the wheel!