"I don't think you want to do that."

He turned around and frowned. "Oh? You got a better idea?"

Joe Hardy shrugged, folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. "No. But I still don't think you want to do that."

"And why is that?"

"Because. I expect all my presents to be under the tree by Christmas morning. You order off the Internet and who knows when it will get here."

Frank Hardy swiveled his desk chair to look fully at his brother. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm quite serious."

"Joe, it's November 3rd--almost seven weeks until Christmas. Any present I order off the Internet will get here in plenty of time. Anyway, what makes you think I'm buying you anything?"

Joe laughed. "Because you're my brother. Why else?"

"Maybe I should buy you some coal to go in your stocking this year."

"Ha, ha." Joe sat down on Frank's bed, kicked off his shoes and stretched out across the bed. "So what'd you get me?"

"Did I say you could take your shoes off? You'll stink up my room. And get off the bed." Frank focused once again on the computer screen. "And that's the point of wrapping presents, Joe, you have to wait to open them."

"You know I never could wait for Christmas. Remember? I always peeked. Mom never--" Joe's voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. "Um, hey, Dad."

Frank looked up from the computer screen to see his father standing the doorway of his room. "Hey, Dad."

Fenton Hardy stood there a moment, eyeing his youngest son. "Peeked, eh?"

Joe sat up and he swallowed hard. "You won't tell Mom--will you?"

Fenton stood there, thinking about it just long enough to make his son squirm. "Not unless she finds out on her own."

Frank grinned and turned to his father. "What's up, Dad?"

"Your mother wants you to pull out the Christmas decorations for her. She says she remembers going to last year's After Christmas sale but she can't remember what she got."

Joe bounced to his feet. "I'll get it. Frank's buying me presents over the Internet." He left the room and both Frank and Fenton could hear him clomp down the hallway to the door that led to the attic.

Frank sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm buying Callie her birthday present."

"I figured you wouldn't do anything with him in the room. It would be a little difficult to keep him from peeking." Fenton came further into the room, sat down on the bed Joe had just vacated.

Frank turned around. "Dad, is something wrong?"

"When Joe gets back, I'll tell you."

The sound of something falling made both of them look toward the attic. Frank arched an eyebrow. "You think he fell through the floor?"

"If he did and broke something, you'd really have to be nice to him." Fenton smiled and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Perish the thought," said Frank, jokingly. He waited a moment but there was no more noise from the attic. "You don't think something fell on him, do you?"

Fenton sighed. "Knowing Joe? I didn't think he'd try and pull something down--" He got up. "Let's go check on him."

Frank nodded and got up. He left his bedroom, his father right behind him. Two boxes sat outside the half-open attic door but there was no sign of Joe. Frank glanced at the boxes and saw they were labeled Christmas decorations.

"Well, here's what Mom asked for but--" Frank pushed the attic door open. "Joe?"

"Hey, you're not going to believe what I just found," came his brother's voice, sounding excited.

Frank glanced at his father, wondering what his father had wanted to talk to them about. Fenton grinned. "I'll take the boxes down. You see what he's so excited about."

Frank laughed and went into the attic. "Hey, Joe, what's up?"

"Look." Joe held up what looked like a small magazine.

As Frank got closer and his eyes adjusted to the single dim overhead light, he saw it was a comic book. "Oh God, I thought Mom threw those out years ago."

Joe gave him a glare. "That's not even funny. These are classics."

"They're Batman comics." Frank rolled his eyes. "Please, spare me."

Joe thumbed through the comic he was holding. "I used to want to be a comic book illustrator."

"And look how you turned out," retorted Frank with a smirk.

Joe rolled his eyes. "Do you know why I liked Batman?"

"Not really. Don't care to, either. You were Batman for four freaking Halloweens in a row." Frank shook his head.

"Excuse me?" Joe shook his head.  "Anyway, the reason I liked Batman was because he was real."

"No, he wasn't."

"Think—1960s, 1970s--yeah, NASA was gung-ho about space and stuff, but was it really possible an extraterrestrial--who looked an awful lot like us, mind you--could crash-land on earth? No. And Spiderman, oh come on, the spider would have died from that high a dose of radiation."

Frank shrugged. "The radiation could've raised him back to--"He broke off in mid-sentence and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm actually having this discussion."

"What gave Batman his powers?"

"Is that a trick question?" Frank frowned. "He didn't have any powers."

"Exactly." Joe nodded. "All he had were his wits and his muscles. That's why he was real."

"Yeah, maybe, whatever--but that suit. Couldn't he have picked something more fashionable?"

"What, a red, white and blue swimsuit and red boots?"

"Lay off Wonder Woman," muttered Frank, embarrassed.

"Then lay off Batman," Joe said. He dug deeper through the box that had fallen when he'd gotten the other boxes. "Hey, cool, you'll never guess what's in here."

"I'm not sure I want to. Want me to bring you a pillow and blanket? You can enjoy your comics and whatever else is in that box."

"It's my costume." Joe sounded gleeful. "Wow. It's so..." He pulled it out and stared at it. "Little."

Frank bit back a grin. "Joe, you were five, remember?"

Joe grunted. "You're smirking, aren't you."

"Now whatever gave you that idea?" Frank tried to wipe the grin off his face and was glad for the dimness in the attic. "Come on, Joe, put all that stuff up."

"No, I'm bringing the comics to my room. I'll read them over Thanksgiving break. No, I'll read one every night after homework."

Frank sighed and moved to his brother's side. "Dad wanted to talk to us."

In an instant the box of comics was forgotten as Joe looked at his brother. "You think it's a case or something?"

"I have no idea. Come on."

Joe stood up, gave the box a lingering look, then sighed and followed his brother out of the attic.

Frank gave up trying not to grin. "You know the beauty of it, Joe, they'll still be there when you have to bring the Christmas decorations back up to the attic."

Joe grunted. "You'd better be nice, Frank. I haven't bought you your Christmas present," he added haughtily as he started for the stairs.

Frank rolled his eyes. "You never buy anything till Christmas Eve," he called down, shaking his head.

"Maybe I'll buy you coal," answered Joe. "When's the next freight train due to pass?"

"You wish." Frank followed his brother down the stairs ready to tackle him and they both skidded in their sock feet on the foyer's smooth floor.

Laura Hardy looked up from looking in the boxes. "Boys, it's a little late for rough-housing."

"Mom, I found my old Batman costume."

Laura looked over at him, puzzled. "I thought I gave that away years ago."

Joe frowned. "Mom--"

Laura heaved a sigh. "I suppose since you found your costume, you found the comic books. Do you think you can keep them neat and orderly and not all over the floor like when you were a kid?"

Frank let out a bark of laughter. "Mom, he leaves his clothes all over the floor like he did when he was a kid. What makes you think this will be any different?"

"Because these are classic comics. I might have a million dollars' worth of classic Batman up there."

Frank just shook his head in resignation.