Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

"Frank, I've done nothing but rest since the first day. I don't care if you sing worse than a bullfrog, or if you do a rotten Bogart impersonation, I just want something to focus on."

Frank groaned inwardly. "All right...any requests?"

Nancy smirked. "Joy to the World"

He played the innocent, keeping his expression blank as he asked, "Which one?"

Nancy tossed a pillow at him, grimacing when it landed a few feet short. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog," she prompted him.

"And just why do you want me to sing that? I'm not even sure I know all the words...." he hedged. Oh please let her pick something else...

"Doesn't matter. Sing."

Frank cleared his throat, shooting Nancy a dark gaze as he began. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog," he began, but Nancy interrupted him.

"Louder!"

"You sound like a bullfrog, croaking out those directives"

"Well, I am the one being entertained...if I can't hear you, then I have a right to demand a volume increase...and I'll have you know, mister, that my voice does not sound like a bullfrog." Nancy paused a moment, screwing her face up in concentration, before she emitted a loud noise very reminiscent of a bullfrog. "That's what a bullfrog sounds like." Ouch...she added inwardly, trying not to grimace. That little joke had hurt.

"Fine," he responded, glowering at her. "But once you're well..." he threatened.

"Then you may get revenge as you see fit," she answered sweetly. "Now, sing."

"Jeremiah was a bullfrog," he repeated himself, but making sure to be louder. "He was a good friend of mine...I never understood a single word he said..."

Nancy closed her eyes as Frank's slightly husky baritone washed over her. She smiled faintly as the lyrics continued, suddenly feeling much less cranky, and most definitely not bored. I miss being sung to...she realized as she lay there. "Chorus," she murmured, as he paused. He’d had a hopeful expression on his face, as though he thought he could get away with just the first verse.

"Joy to the world...all the boys and girls..." I hope she gets tired of this soon..."Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea..."

"Joy to you and me," Nancy joined in on the last line, causing Frank to frown at her, and stop.

"Hey, no singing from you, Ms. Drew," he ordered. "Rest your voice."

"Hey...Scully didn't tell Mulder to stop..." she mumbled back.

"I don't really recall Mulder singing in that episode..."

"It was the best part. How could you forget?"

"It was Scully singing, Nan ."

"Was it?"

"Yes, Nan , it was Scully...Now, may I continue or do you have another request?"

"Keep going," she grumbled. "Though I still think Mulder sang in that episode..."

Easy, Frank...he scolded himself, fighting the urge to walk over and check her forehead. It's a TV episode...those are easy to mix up details of....

"And if I were king of the world..." he began again, but Nancy interrupted him almost immediately.

"I'm King of the World!" she crowed, before giggling faintly.

Ok, he decided. That's it....He moved swiftly over to the bed, and placed a hand against Nancy's forehead, ignoring her protests that she was fine, it was only a tiny fever...."You're burning up," he said softly. He gently moved his hand to her throat, checking the glands for swelling, and noting the heat there as well. "I'll be right back."

This is getting ridiculous, he fumed as he did his best to avoid stomping over to the door of their room. She's sick, we've been here for four days, and they haven't even offered us anything to help out! "Hey," he said sharply, as he opened the door to the two guards, the pair dubbed Guard Set Two.

The heavier one of the two cracked a grin at him. "Hey Hardy...heard you singing...thinking of trying for American Idol when you get out of here?"

If looks could kill, the guard would have died then. "Look, you dolts," Frank growled. "We've been patient. We're behaving. But Nancy is sick, and I can't even be sure how bad her fever is. The least you could do is get a thermometer for us."

"Sorry, bud," the other guard said with a shrug. "Boss' orders. We don't offer you anything whatsoever beyond food, bedding, and hygiene products. Other than that, you're on your own."

"I don't give a damn about your orders," Frank said icily, advancing on the guard. "I care about my friend, and she's sick, and you don't seem to give a flying flip. So I'm thinking maybe it's time we got out of here."

It was at that second that he felt a stab of pain in the back of his leg, and then a much stronger surge of pain that washed over his entire body. Taser... he realized as he collapsed, and cursed himself for having forgotten about the guard's partner being nearby. The guards picked him up roughly, and tossed him into the room.

Frank?" Nancy called weakly. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he grunted. As soon as he was able, he stood, shakily, and moved toward the bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack, and wet it down, then took it in to Nancy . "Here," he said softly, laying it on her forehead. "That ought to help a little" He tucked her in as tightly as he could, then sat next to her on the bed. "Any more requests?"

"Are you sure you're okay, Frank?" Nancy 's blue eyes searched his face worriedly.

"I'll be fine, Nan ," he assured her, squeezing one of her hands lightly. "C'mon. There must be another song you want to humiliate me with."

She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. "Can't think of anything..."

"Alright....what about this, then?" He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the lyrics, and then began to sing. "I give her all my love, that's all I do. And if you saw my love, you'd love her too..."

"Frank, I don't really want to hear about your feelings for Callie right now...." Nancy grumbled.

"Maybe I wasn't singing about Callie..." he said softly. Neither spoke for a moment. Then Nancy cleared her throat nervously.

"Does that mean you've got a girlfriend on the side I don't know about?" she asked, trying to sound playful.

Frank flushed. "No...." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence again, and this time Frank broke it. "Uh...so...request number three?"

"Anything without romance," Nancy responded, her mind swirling with the implications of the conversation that had just passed between them. Is he saying what I think he's....no. He couldn't be....I just made him uncomfortable, that's all...

"I think you just eliminated most of the songs in the world with that restriction, Nan ," he teased.

"Frank, I don't care if you sing 'Great Green Globs', just sing something that isn't romance," she snapped, shocking herself and him with her irritation. If he hadn't tried to sing that damn song, I wouldn't be irritated, though...so it's his fault. She grimaced at her reasoning. "Sorry, Frank....just...please, no romance songs."

"Somehow, Nancy, I don't think, despite what you say, that hearing me sing about guts and eyes and such will make you feel any better..." he said with a faint grin.

As he thought she would, Nancy turned slightly green at the memory of the lyrics to "Great Green Globs" and Frank chuckled. "How 'bout I sing this, instead....and let me just say now...no laughing, okay?" He cleared his throat, and then began. "You've got a friend in me, you've got a friend in me..."

"I've changed my mind," Nancy grumbled. "Romance is fine...but no Disney!"

"What's the matter with Disney?"

"I get the scenes stuck in my head....and we don't have the movie here for me to watch, much less a TV..."

"Alright, fine, no Disney. Hmm....okay, I've got it." He paused. "Anything but Disney, right?"

"Just sing, Frank."

"Okay..." he said, flushing slightly. ”Here goes....Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it away....catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day..."

As Frank continued to sing, Nancy closed her eyes once more. Yeah, he's singing a love song...but....it's kinda nice...relaxing...she grinned slightly, hoping he didn't notice. And his obvious embarrassment over it gives me plenty of blackmail material...not to mention it's cute...Nancy found herself yawning slightly as Frank continued, and she curled up under the blankets. She yawned again, feeling sleep begin to settle in over her.

Nancy didn't realize it, but Frank was watching her as he sang. He noticed as her yawns grew more frequent, as her breathing slowed, and as she finally succumbed to sleep. He sang to the very end, for fear that stopping might wake her, but he finished very softly.

Hardy Residence, Bayport , NY

"Goddamnit!" Joe pounded his fist against the desk. Although the security tape had proved quite helpful, he still had to locate where the garage advertised on the kidnapper's jacket was located....which was proving difficult indeed.

"How can you have jackets advertising a business, and yet not have an ad online or in the bloody phone book?" he grumbled.

He slumped back in his chair with a sigh, massaging his temples lightly with his fingertips. Think, Hardy, think!

"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Frank and Nancy have been missing for four days. Now, I have a photo of one of the kidnappers, but he's not in any state or federal criminal database. Which means he's either been overlooked by the system - unlikely - or he's never been arrested. His jacket advertises a garage that I can't locate, and that's where I need to go to stay on the trail. There's no ransom note or call. No contact from Frank and Nancy, which means they are unable to escape or communicate."

Or they're dead, whispered a tiny voice at the back of his mind, but Joe refused to voice that option aloud.

“Time to call in reinforcements," Joe decided. He didn't mean the police - Chief Collig already had officers working on the case. He reached for the phone, deciding to call Tony first.

Hardy Residence, Bayport , NY

"Alright," Joe said, two hours later, when he had all the gang gathered in the living room. He'd briefed them all on what he knew so far, and now was the time for action. "Here's what we're going to do. If we're lucky, the garage this guy worked for is near Bayport. We know it's not in Bayport itself; we would have heard of it. So, we're going to search all the neighboring cities. If anyone spots the garage, give me a call...I'm going to stay here so we have someone near the phone."

"You're not coming out with us?" Tony asked in surprise.

Joe shook his head. "The Chief may locate the place before you do. In which case, I'll call all of you back, and then I'll go there myself."

He held up a computer printout. "Now, I've made a list of towns for you to search...Biff, Callie - you two will go through Eastport. " The pair nodded. He gave out the other assignments, and then everyone left, and Joe was alone,

The next few hours were unbearable. He couldn’t sit still. Every few minutes, he jumped up to make sure the phone wasn't off the hook, or unplugged. One of his friends was bound to find the garage, if the Bayport police didn't. They just had to.

Finally, the phone rang. "Joe," came the voice of Ezra Collig on the other end of the line. "We found it...we're in the process of obtaining the proper paperwork - we'll be able to go out tomorrow and search the garage."

"Thanks, Chief," Joe said, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "Where's it at?"

Collig gave him the address, and Joe jotted it down. Once he was off the phone with the Chief, he began calling his friends back, one by one. With a glance at his watch, he realized it was nearly midnight.

Damn, he thought. I can't go tonight....Eager though he was to move on with the case, Joe knew that he would be no help to Frank and Nancy if he was exhausted when he found them, especially if things got rough. First thing in the morning, big brother, he promised silently. I'm coming after you.

Guyman’s Gas and Auto Repair, Northport, NY

I've tracked them this far...I can't give up now...Joe looked around in near-despair. Thanks to Chief Collig, he'd tracked his brother and Nancy 's kidnappers to Northport, but this certainly didn't seem like a friendly part of town. If they are here....I may have a lot of trouble finding them...assuming they're in Northport at all...Guyman’s Gas and Auto Repair is here, but…

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and instead walked up to the gas station. Trying not to appear too out-of-place and nervous, he casually strolled into the store portion and up to the counter. The man behind it eyed him warily.

"Whaddya want, kid?"

"I need your help, if possible." Joe pulled out the security camera images of the attackers, and a photo of Frank and Nancy. "Have you seen any of these people?"

"Why's it matter?"

"My brother and my friend have disappeared. I'm trying to track them down."

"These two?" The man asked, pointing at the photo of Frank and Nancy with a grubby finger.

"Yeah...have you seen them?"

"Nope...they don't look like the type you'd see around here, not usually, anyways."

"What about the others?"

"Well..." the man glanced at the pictures. ”Nope. Not even the one wearing the jacket for this place...then again, I only began working here a year ago."

"Thanks," Joe said, trying not to let his disappointment show. He turned to leave.

"Hey, kid!"

"Yeah?" Joe turned, his expression hopeful.

"Try asking around at the Happy Jack Inn ....they usually get the drifters through this part of town."

"Thanks."

Happy Jack Inn ...why do I get the feeling it's not the type of inn where overnight stays are common? Joe thought to himself as he walked back to the van. He started it up and pulled away. It wasn't until he'd already driven for a few blocks that he realized he'd forgotten to ask where the inn was. Guess I'll try driving around a bit first, see if it's nearby...if not, I can always go back to the gas station and ask for directions.

Happy Jack Inn , Northport , NY

A few minutes later, he noticed a gaudy neon sign of a grinning figure, similar to the ones on a deck of cards. On the Jack, to be exact...Joe's eyes widened as he realized he had found the inn. I think I was right about this place, he mused as he parked the van and got out. I doubt if they have more than thirty rooms...He approached the little building cautiously, continually checking his surroundings.

Well, Joe thought, as he entered through the grimy glass doors. Whether I'm right or not, this place certainly doesn't get much business...He took in the beer can lying in one corner of the lobby, and the overflowing cigarette trays. Either that or they need to fire their housekeepers. Swallowing his disgust, Joe approached the check-in desk.

"Where's your date, sugar?" the woman behind the counter asked. "We don't provide 'em, ya know."

"I...actually, uh...was looking for someone who might be staying here."

"Sorry, hun. We keep our customers' privacy."

"I see....may I take a look around?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. But I doubt you'll find who you're looking for."

And you're probably right...Joe thought. Nevertheless, he started down one of the hallways. He didn't get ten feet before he heard a commotion behind him. Turning, he noticed two things: the woman from the registration counter was now aiming a gun at him...and there were other individuals closing in fast.

On second thought, he mused grimly. Maybe I was wrong.

Joe spun quickly, and began sprinting down the hallway. A gunshot pierced the wall beside him, and he flinched, but kept going. I've got to find some way to even up the odds, he thought. Another shot whizzed past his ear, and he swore, ducking low and trying to maintain his speed. He sprinted around the corner at the end of the hall, and was brought up short by someone. Stumbling back, Joe realized things had just gotten worse.

"Well, well....looks like the younger Hardy does have brains as well as brawn," Joe's new opponent gloated. Joe glowered at him, glancing back to see that his other pursuers were closing in. How do I get out of this? he wondered.

Lyrics from “Joy to the World”

Written by: Hoyt Axton

Lyrics from “And I Love Her”

Written by: Paul McCartney

Lyrics from “You’ve Got A Friend In Me”

Written by: Randy Newman

Lyrics from “Catch A Falling Star”

Written by: Lee Pockris and Paul Vance

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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.