Fenton Hardy stood by the Christmas tree and looked down at the sleeping boys. As predicted, the children had not lasted much past ten-thirty but he was hesitant to move them so soon. They looked so peaceful.

Both boys were lying on their sides facing him, Joe snuggled up against his brother’s back as Frank was on the outside, one hand under his cheek and the other resting over the one Joe had draped over his side. Fenton wished the lighting was better so he could take a picture, but all the lights had been turned off and only the glow of the fireplace and tree lit the room.

This was Joe’s first Christmas with them and Fenton sincerely hoped that it would be one of those special ones that the little boy would never forget….

 

“Told you,” a gruff voice spoke quietly behind the young investigator; startling him as he had not heard his father coming back into the living room. His mother and Laura had already gone to bed, anticipating an early wake-up call first by a turkey and then by two excited children – Francis had gone to let the dog outside for the last time before bedtime. “Poor little bairns would never last ‘til eleven, let alone much longer.”

“Yeah you did,” Fenton sighed, a fond smile playing across his handsome face, “but one of these years I’m going to be right.”

“Not in my lifetime,” Francis scoffed, good-naturedly, and then placed his hand on his son’s shoulder as he came to stand beside the younger man and looked down at the sleeping children. Neither said anything for a few moments until Francis spoke again. “Them boys are brothers for sure… No doubting that.” His hand dropped and he indicated Frank, “You want to take him up to bed – I’ll bring Joey.”

Fenton nodded as he carefully scooped up the child and then moved towards the stairs, giving his father access to the younger boy.

Francis leaned over and gently slid an arm beneath Joe but stopped when the child’s eyes flew open and he recoiled slightly from the old man.

“Whoa, easy, Joey,” the ex-cop soothed; not really expecting this reaction but not really surprised by it either. He knew the child had been living in a state-run facility for the past few months and might be skittish for a bit. “It’s just your Poppy.” He moved slightly so the little boy could see Fenton, who had stopped and turned around, Frank still in his arms, at the sound of his father’s voice. “See, there’s Daddy and Frankie…”

“Joey?” Fenton called out softly, “Are you okay, son?”

The little boy looked at his father and brother before his gaze returned to the man standing in front of him. He slowly nodded.

“Sorry,” the child murmured as he pushed the blanket off his small body and cautiously stood up. He looked at the tree and sighed but never said anything, obviously disappointed that Santa had not been here yet and now they were being taken to bed.

Francis held out his hand and after a moment, the child took it and let himself be led up the stairs and into the cozy room he was sharing with Frank. After tucking the boys into their bed, the men quietly closed the door and went back downstairs to lock up for the night and then put out the presents.

The dog stayed behind, having chosen to crawl up between the young brothers and stretch out in their bed.

“What do you know about the boy’s past?” the ex-cop asked his son as they worked quietly.

“Not much really,” Fenton admitted, “his mother is dead and no one knows his father. Joey’s been a ward of the state for the past couple of months – that’s pretty much about it. Why?”

“No reason really,” Francis said passing his son the gifts to put under the tree. He paused as his gaze flickered towards the stairs.  “State-run facilities are awfully hard on the younger ones.”

Fenton followed his father’s gaze and nodded as he stood up. “They are,” he agreed and then added, “but Joey’s a good kid and is already starting to relax around us.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Francis admitted as he regarded the display of presents beneath the tree. His face warmed with affection, the older man smiled, “It’s good to have you home again Fenton…I’m proud of you, son.”

“It’s good to be home,” the detective admitted, not referring to the house, as this was not the one he had grown up in. It was the company that made ‘home’, and they both knew it. A flush of color filled his cheeks as he added, “And thanks, Dad.”

Satisfied that everything was ready for Christmas morning, father and son went upstairs together and then to their respective rooms….

* * *

Joe opened up his eyes and stared straight into a pair of warm brown ones set in a fuzzy face. “Merry Christmas, Sam,” he whispered to the dog as he lay quietly in the bed for a few more moments, listening intently for the sounds of anyone else being up, but hearing nothing. On the other side of him, Frank was still sleeping, and the younger boy had no idea if he should just go ahead and wake him up or not.

His face crinkled in a frown. Although he and Frank got along very well and Joe had taken an instant liking to his new sibling, there was still so much he didn’t know about the six-year-old, and he didn’t want to do anything to make Frank not like him anymore. So he just lay in the bed and waited – although being only five and knowing that Santa Claus would have come by now, it was difficult at best to wait, and against his own will, his body fidgeted beneath the coverings. It was his constant little movements that finally woke the older boy.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS!” the dark-haired child shrieked excitedly as his eyes flew open.  Grabbing the startled blond boy in a tight hug, Frank half-pulled him off the bed.  “Merry Christmas, Joey! Come on! We gotta make sure Santa’s been here!”

Needing no further encouragement, Joe slithered out from beneath the blankets and chased after Frank as he raced out of the room calling out to everyone to get up because it was Christmas!

Joe couldn’t help but laugh at his brother’s excitement even as it matched his own, and within moments other bedroom doors were being opened by adults – housecoat-gowned and slipper-footed.

 

“Merry Christmas, Frankie. Merry Christmas, Joey!” Laura called out, smiling at the retreating forms of her sons as they hurried down the stairs. Sam brushed by in his haste to catch up, nearly knocking the blond woman off the stairs; her husband’s quick reflexes steadied Laura and then pulled her close for a quick Christmas kiss.

A definite air of festivity ruled the house….

Joey hit the bottom step a second behind his brother and then froze. Sitting in the living room, at the end of the couch, was someone he had never seen before.

The woman, tall and stern-looking, had dark brown hair pulled back in a bun and bright blue eyes, partially hidden by glasses. She was just finishing a cup of tea and raised her eyebrows questioningly at the children, but before she could say anything Frank ran over and gave her a quick hug.  “Auntie Gertrude,” he said, “Merry Christmas.”

The woman’s stern countenance melted as she smiled fondly at her nephew and tousled his dark hair, “Merry Christmas Frankie—” she looked across at Joe who was still standing at the foot of the stairs, like a deer caught in the headlights. Her smile extended to him, “And this must be Joey…Merry Christmas, Joey.”

“M-Merry Christmas,” the little boy stammered softly, jumping slightly when Fenton laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Joey…son. This is my sister, Gertrude,” he did a more formal introduction, “Your Auntie Gertrude.” Giving the child a nudge to get him going again, Fenton quickly crossed the distance and gave his older sister a quick hug as Joe moved towards Frank.

Frank’s pajama-clad bottom half was now barely visible beneath the huge tree even as he called out for the younger boy to ‘get here – you gotta see this’. “Glad you made it Gert,” Fenton said releasing his sister.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” the woman assured him as their mother, Agnes, came out of the kitchen and shook her head at the lot of them. The smell of cooking turkey wafted out behind her.

“Sleepy heads,” she chided, “I’ve been up for hours now!”

“Oh Mother,” cooed Francis, the last one down, “no one speaks ‘turkey’ like you do or else I’d have conversed with the bird myself!”

“Indeed you wouldn’t have!” Agnes returned and then smiled, “Now that Gertie’s here and everyone is up, I think it’s present time!”

Although mostly engulfed in a Christmas tree, Frank heard her magic words, and within moments the cozy living room floor was littered with brightly colored paper….

 

Fenton wrapped his arms around his wife as they watched the two young boys pillaging under the tree. He squeezed his bride and whispered in her ear, “Are you happy, darling?”

His beautiful angel turned around, held his face tenderly in her soft hands and smiled. “Fenton, what you have given me…first in Frank and now in Joey….I – you…”  Tears filled her pale blue eyes; unable to put her feelings into words, she kissed him...and when she finally pulled away, her words were for him only. “Yes. I am….”

The detective sucked in a shuddering breath, unprepared for her emotional response to his question…or his own. If there had been any lingering doubt about their decision to adopt, it was lost in those three words…

Yes. I am.

And as Gertrude knelt down by the boys and helped Joe open one of his gifts, Fenton glanced at his parents. They were sitting together on the couch, his father’s arm around his mother’s shoulders, watching the boys – not just Frank, but Joe also. And he knew that any concerns he had had about his family’s acceptance of his children was unfounded.

The only people in that room were Hardys…each and every one of them.

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.