hardy boys fan fiction
THE TROUBLE WITH RED
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
Phoenix
Chapter 8
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
“Joe!” Frank was shocked as he hurried towards his younger brother. “What the hell just happened?” He could see the vivid handprint on the teen’s face but missed whatever had happened between the boy and their aunt.
Joe was just staring at the door, a blank look on his face. Frank had just reached out to give his sibling a little shake when an angry looking Fenton Hardy yanked open the door and then just stared at the boys.
“Dad?” the dark haired teen questioned the older man.
Ignoring Frank for the moment, Fenton continued to look at the person with him. “Joe?” And then he lowered his gaze and shook his head. Reaching out, he put a hand on his younger son’s shoulder and gently pulled him into the house. “C’mon son, let’s get you in here.” Still stunned, Joe let himself be led.
Fenton glanced back at Frank, who stooped to grab the fallen hat and then followed them inside to where an upset Gertrude Hardy was standing in the living room. Frank and Joe’s mother, Laura, was trying to console her.
“That hooligan—” the older woman wailed. “I can’t believe his gall!”
Hearing someone behind her, Gertrude whipped around and pointed a shaking finger at Joe. “You stay away from me you – you—”
Fenton cut her off. “Joe.”
Gertrude stopped and stared at her brother and then slowly her gaze turned to the red-haired young man flanked by Fenton and Frank. Horrified comprehension sent her reeling, barely making it to the couch before she collapsed, one hand over her mouth. “Oh no. No. No.”
“Oh yes,” Fenton argued, realizing what had happened. “You hit your nephew.”
“But – he… I—” the woman shook her head, her mind denying the obvious. “I thought – oh sweet mercy!”
Her dark brown eyes filled as she stood up and moved quickly towards the teen. Joe reflexively flinched when she reached out towards his face, her fingers lightly brushing the mark her hand had left. “Joey. I’m so, so sorry. I thought you were someone else!”
Joe gave her a wan smile and glanced at his brother. Frank exhaled loudly as he ran his hand through his dark hair and looked towards their father, but before he could say anything, Laura had crossed the space between them to stand a little behind Gertrude; she eyed her younger son critically. “Joe—” she started carefully, “honey? Is there something you want to tell us? Like maybe about your hair or something?” Her eyes widened as she got past the shock of his hair and saw the damage to his face. “And what happened to your face?!”
“Well, it’s like this,” Frank started quickly as he nudged his brother towards the couch. Gertrude hurried to the kitchen to get an icepack for Joe’s face while his mother sat down next to him, taking one of his hands in her own; Fenton continued to stand next to his older son as the teen spoke. “Someone—” he gave his brother a significant look, “decided that we needed to dye our hair while we were on holiday—” he left out mentioning the case as neither his mother or aunt was aware they had been ‘working,’ “and when we tried to get it dyed back before coming home, the beautician messed up a bit and we got more Raggedy Andy and less Malibu Ken—”
“It’s all Frank’s fault,” Joe muttered miserably as he accepted the ice pack from his aunt and pressed it against his throbbing face. To be honest, he had no idea what was hurting more right now. “If he hadn’t been flirting—”
“Flirting!” the older teen cried out, indignant. “I was NOT flirting!”
“Were too,” Joe refuted.
Fenton held up his hand, stopping his sons before they got started. “Enough.” He nodded for Frank to continue.
“Anyway,” the older boy said, ignoring the glare coming from the couch, “it’s been downhill since then. Apparently there is someone who looks just like this—” he indicated his brother, “and that guy has been nothing but trouble for us!”
“For me.” Joe groaned and his mother patted his hand consolingly.
“For you,” Frank amended and then added, “And me by proxy. If that wasn’t bad enough, we had a little bit of an accident with the van.”
“What?” Fenton asked, beating the woman to the punch.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t driving,” the dark haired teen assured them. “I wasn’t even in the van at the time—”
“I was,” Joe closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. He just wanted to go to bed and forget all about this day.
“Joe was but he’s okay—” Frank rushed to reassure them. “The van’s not. Some guy hit it from the side and rolled it down a hill.”
“Joe, honey,” Laura pressed, worriedly, “Are you sure you’re okay?” She glanced from his bright hair to his bruised face, the amusment of his predicament lessened by his obvious discomfort.
“I’ll live,” came the disconsolate response. Weary blue eyes opened and fixed on his aunt. “So what’d he do to you?” Gertrude shook her head, not seeming to understand what he was referring to, so Joe reworded. “The other guy with glow-in-the-dark, fire engine red hair? I’m assuming – or at least hoping – you’ve had the pleasure of running into him and he’s done something to warrant this?” He removed the ice pack and indicated his face.
The older woman looked regretful and wrung her hands as she spoke. Her voice was soft. “I’m so sorry, Joe.” She glanced up at him. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you?”
He swallowed hard and then nodded. Yeah, he knew.
“I ran into him at the market,” Gertrude admitted. “And he was just horrid! Absolutely dreadful! He – he—” She shivered and Fenton rolled his eyes and then moved to sit by her. She leaned against him and wailed, “He called me an old hottie and he – he—” taking a deep breath, she pretty much shrieked, “he touched my bottom!”
Joe’s eyes widened and he turned to his brother. Frank’s look was a cross between horrified and astonished, although as their aunt continued, his shoulders began to shake suspiciously.
“He said it was an accident but I know different! I could see that look in his eyes – the look of sin. He was smitten!!” She shivered. “I never gave him a chance to say anything else! I just grabbed my wrinkle releaser and wart remover and got out of there as quickly as I could! The nerve of the young hooligan!”
And then, before anyone could say anything else, Gertrude pulled away from his brother and turned an accusing eye on him. “This is all your fault, you know?”
Fenton blinked in shock, an action mirrored by his sons. “Excuse me?”
“I told you those boys are too young to be involved in detective work but does anyone ever listen to me? On no, Gertrude has no good ideas. None at all—” Frank and Joe traded looks, how’d she know? Frank had been careful to cover that part up. She saw the look and rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I might be old but I’m not stupid.” Her gaze softened as she looked at her younger nephew. “Joe loves his hair too much to dye it on a whim. No. He needed a reason. A good reason—” the glare she fixed her brother with was not so loving. “Those boys were undercover. I just know it. And now look what happened!”
As Gertrude wound herself up, Frank grabbed his brother’s arm and hauled him to his feet. “C’mon,” he said.
“Where we going?” Joe asked, his brother practically dragging him out the front door. Behind them, Fenton was trapped under his sister’s tirade and Laura’s hand now covered her own mouth. The young sleuth was sure she was trying not to laugh at her husband’s predicament.
“Callie’s house,” Frank said, pulling the door shut behind them. “If anyone can fix a hair disaster, it’s her!”
And Joe couldn’t agree more. If Frank’s girlfriend, Callie Shaw, knew anything, it was about dyeing hair, however… “Uh Frank—” he pulled his arm free. “How are we going to get there?”
Frank stopped. Oh crap. He forgot about the van. Before he could think of anything else, the door behind them opened and their father hurried from the house. “My car—” he shouted at his boys briskly. “I’ll drive. Now hurry!”
Behind them, their aunt’s voice followed him. “Fenton Hardy – you get back here right this instant!”
“This is just going to make her worse,” Frank grinned as he slid into the front seat next to his father. Once Joe was in the back and everyone had their seatbelts on, the detective shot the car into gear and backed out of the driveway.
“I know,” Fenton admitted and then winked in the rearview mirror at his younger son. “But she’s old and I figure she can’t live forever."
…
No matter how miserable he was feeling, Joe couldn’t help but laugh. The visual of his father hiding out to avoid his sister’s wrath was just too much…
…
Ten minutes later when they pulled up in front of Callie’s house, the blond girl took one look at Joe, grabbed his arm and gently led him in the door. “Don’t worry, Joe,” she assured him. “I can fix this.”
“You can?” he felt his spirits start to lift.
Callie eyed him critically and then gave him a curt nod. “No problem.” Leading him down the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder at the two older Hardys. Her voice was all business. “Cups are in the cupboard. Coffee is on the counter. Make yourself at home.”
And then she turned her attention back on her boyfriend’s brother. “C’mon,” she encouraged. “We’ll have you blond and beautiful again in no time.” She paused and then asked, her curosity piqued: “So Joe, you mind telling me what happened?”
Joe grinned and glanced over his shoulder….
Frank stiffened, his face paled…he wouldn’t…
“Well Callie,” the younger boy’s voice floated into the kitchen, “it was like this…”
He would.
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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.