Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

In a darkened supply closet that housed part of the Obstetrics wing of New York University Medical Center, two young doctors completing their residency were enjoying a romantic interlude. They were leaning against a shelf stacked with various medical supplies they knew no one was likely to require in the immediate future.

The beeping of a pager caused them pull apart like guilty schoolchildren.

“I think it’s yours,” Dr. Genevieve Moreau said breathlessly to Dr. Jeff Hagen.

“Ain’t that always the way,“ Jeff muttered, and gave Genevieve one last smooch before he reached for the noisy device.

“They’re looking for me,” he sighed, after squinting at the message.

Genevieve pouted. “Guess I’d better get back, too, before they start paging me.”

“I owe, I owe, so off to work I go!” Jeff sing-songed, and started making his way to the door.

“Just how much are still you in the hole for?” Genevieve asked casually, brushing a hand on his arm.

“Over a hundred-thou. Give or take ten grand.” Jeff said with a groan

She stopped him and placed herself between him and the door, a coy expression on her face. “I’m all through with loans.”

He balked at this statement, staring at her open-mouthed. “What do you mean you’re ‘through’ with loans? Gen, we finished med school at the same time, and I’m pretty sure we had the same debt load. So, unless you won the lottery recently or collected on some big inheritance…”

“Nothing like that,” Genevieve responded with a laugh. “I just made some connections in the medical community whose particular interest is helping people like you and me get out of their student load debts sooner.”

“You’re joking, right? Who are these people, multi-millionaires?”

“They’re a charity organization. I applied to them for debt relief, and poof! No more student loans.”

“It was that easy, huh?” Jeff said cynically.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…I still had to work for it. I had to…qualify; meet their standards. They’re the ones who approached me, actually.” Gen seemed particularly proud of this fact. “I first heard from them in our final year. I agreed to their conditions, and they contributed quite handsomely to the elimination of my debts.”

“Who are these people and where can I get their number?” Jeff asked in amazement.

“I can put you in touch with them,” Gen said with a smile. “They’re so helpful.”

“Do you really think they’ll help me?” Jeff queried. “I mean, how does it go and what do they want? Is it based on merit? Job performance? Financial need? Desperation? First-born son?”

Gen laughed at this, and Jeff found himself giving a nervous chuckle, too.

“What, did I say something funny?”

“Not really. But you do have to be willing to put some effort into qualifying.”

“If I have to fill out a hundred pages of forms, it’ll be worth every dotted line I sign and every paragraph of fine printing I read.”

“Oh, it’s not about filling out forms,” Gen said. “The best way I can describe it is, how shall we say, ‘medical research’.”

“Research, huh?”

Genevieve nodded briskly. “We'll talk later about this, okay?”

“Okay!” Jeff said enthusiastically, and the pair separately returned to their duties.

Genevieve smiled to herself as she thought about the last 'research' project she had just completed; the one that finally saw the remainder of her loans paid in full.

What was the name of that pregnant couple again? Oh, yes! Hunter. Calvin and Sandra Hunter, and they'd had their first-born child here; a son. He'd been a healthy baby; perfect in every way. Mom and Dad had been healthy specimens, too. They'd had no history of any serious medical ailments or genetic predispositions that could potentially spell trouble down the line for the child. They'd also jointly possessed the specific physical traits she'd been instructed to keep an eye out for. Genevieve's benefactors had been very pleased with those results, and she'd of course been rewarded for her work, as she had been on three previous occasions.

Charitable organization, indeed, Gen smirked as she walked the halls of the hospital. She didn't know who was ultimately behind the hefty contributions made towards her debt, and she certainly knew better than to ask. But she was quite sure she wasn't the only one receiving this kind of 'assistance'.

***

Nancy Drew slowed her pace to a steady jog and eventually to a brisk walk as she made her way down the path in the River Heights Municipal Park. Maintaining her fitness level while away from duty was one of her priorities, so she'd gotten up at six o'clock for a run. The early morning chill made her thankful she'd worn a hooded fleece jacket over her sweatshirt. A pair of black skin-tight running pants with reflective trim completed her outfit. She exhaled and watched her breath float away in a misty cloud. There was a smattering of other early risers on the path today, either jogging or walking their dogs.

Many mornings had been spent like this while she had been in the process of getting accepted into the Police Academy. She'd had George as a taskmaster then, since the other girl had the training experience of an elite athlete under her belt. Nancy shook her head as if to dash thoughts of her friend from her mind. Yes, she had several reasons to let go of feelings of guilt, but it wouldn't be an easy, nor simple and speedy process.

“Nancy?” A voice from behind called. The voice was muffled, yet familiar. She stopped and turned, pulling her hood from her head. She felt her heart give an unexpected flutter.

“Nancy, it is you!”

Her eyes went wide when she recognized the tall, dark-haired man coming to a halt behind her.

“Ned?” she said, almost at a loss for words. This was the last place she expected to see him. A dizzying series of questions flashed through her mind. What is he doing here? I thought he was in Chicago with...her. I thought he was... “How did you know it was me?”

He grinned. “I'd recognize those gorgeous legs anywhere, Drew. And then when you pulled off your hood...I just knew.”

Nancy put her hands on her hips and tried to get her breathing under control. Seeing him like this, in such an unexpected fashion was almost like being slapped in the face. It brought emotions she wanted to ignore surging back.

“What are you doing here, Ned?”

His grin vanished and he averted his gaze. “I was going to ask you the same thing, actually.”

“I asked first.” Nancy realized there was an unmistakable edge of harshness in her words.

“Yeah, you did,” Ned conceded. “Okay, I'll tell you all about it if you'll accompany me for a cup of coffee.”

She looked at him skeptically. His handsome face was both eager, earnest and expectant. A part of her wanted to say 'yes'; overwhelmingly so – the part that still hoped for the fulfillment of the longings she'd dreamed of during her forced exile the prior year. Another part wanted to slug him in the jaw – the part that no longer wanted anything to do with the Ned Nickerson that had betrayed her.

“Please?” His brown eyes bore into hers.

“I thought we pretty much said everything we needed to say the last time, Ned. Or rather, you said what you wanted to say.”

He flinched as if he'd been punched, but she realized she took very little satisfaction in that reaction.

“That's what I wanted to talk about...I just wasn't expecting to see you so suddenly. I wasn't expecting to see you in River Heights at all. Please, can we go somewhere else? We're blocking the path.”

“Fine,” Nancy finally said, but inwardly she berated herself for accepting. Don't start something you won't be able to finish, Ned Nickerson.

Five minutes later they were sitting in a small café. Their jog over had been one of silence, but Ned was ready to break it as soon as they had ordered and were seated.

“I'm not proud of how I handled our last conversation, Nan,” he said, after taking a sip of his coffee.

“No?” Nancy said dubiously. “You seemed pretty clear on what you wanted. And clearly, it wasn't me.”

“I know what I said then. And I know how much it hurt for you to hear it. And at the time, I was convinced what I was saying was the truth.”

“And now?”

“Now...Well, now I'm back in River Heights to get my life sorted out.”

Sounds like me, Nancy thought.

“I quit my job. And me and Denise have called it quits, too.”

Nancy blinked in disbelief. “What?”

Ned put his hand out towards hers on the table, but stopped just short of touching her. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Look, Nancy...After the drive-by shooting; when you disappeared, for a time I actually was convinced you were still alive. Every morning I woke up thinking: 'Okay, today she's going to call and everything's going to be fine', or, 'today we're going to find her and we'll be together again'. No matter what had happened, I thought there had to be a reasonable explanation for your absence and your silence, and I was willing to wait for it. After all, we had plans, Nancy. The afternoon before the drive-by, I'd actually gone out to a jewellery place looking for a ring."

“You did?”

“Yeah. We were talking about getting married, weren't we?”

“Yes...I just...that dream never left me while I was in hiding. What happened, Ned? Why did you give up on me?” Memories of all the sleepless, restless nights spent in strange places and surrounded by strange people nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Well, one morning, I did get a call,” Ned explained, his brow furrowing, “but not the one I'd been hoping and praying for. It was from your Dad. He told me he'd just received word that a Mustang matching the description of yours had been spotted in Lake Michigan by some divers...

“I raced out there with a million thoughts on my mind. I'm sure I was breaking the speed limit. I got there just as they were dragging it out of the water.”

He squinted his eyes closed and pursed his lips. Visions of that morning and that ruined car had haunted him for so long; even now it was hard to dissociate himself from it.

“Nan...When I saw it, I just wanted to die. For two months I'd held onto the hope that you weren't dead...but seeing your car...I didn't want to face the fact that what I feared most for you had come to pass. We'd been together for so long, Nan. I've been with you, by your side on so many of your cases. I knew what dangers you could face because I've seen them first-hand, and I'd come to accept it -”

Nancy interrupted: “So that part about my 'stupid mysteries' when you broke up with me; if you'd come to accept that the risk of losing me was a possibility, what was all that about?”

Ned sighed guiltily. “Years of pent-up worry and frustration finally bubbling to the surface. Be honest, Nancy: your mysteries have almost gotten you killed on many occasions. You've been threatened, physically attacked, shot at, strangled, electrocuted, poisoned...need I go on?”

Nancy shook her head. “No.”

“I wasn't myself when you got back, Nancy,” Ned said plaintively. “That was a Ned still in shock. That was a Ned that had convinced himself that Nancy Drew was dead, and that he ought to move on with his life. But I was a fool, Nancy. Denise Mason isn't you. And she never could be. She looks like you, but she isn't you. I don't know; maybe I thought that things would be better if I had someone like you, but without the risks that constantly surrounded you. Police work and curating a museum are two entirely different worlds.”

“So you really aren't seeing her anymore,” Nancy said softly, carefully considering this information.

“No. And she understands. She was trying to start something that was based on bygone, childish infatuation from our days at Emerson. She saw I was weak and was only too happy to try to capitalize. And for a while, it was actually very nice, and I was almost convinced things could be normal for us. But it was all based on a fantasy that couldn't last. It's when she noticed how truly miserable I was, mentally and emotionally, that she came clean.”

“I see. Well, I was seeing someone too, for a little while.”

“Really? Who?”

“Frank Hardy.”

“Oh.” A look that resembled defeat crossed his face. “You know, I always felt like I was strangely competing with him whenever he was around. In fact, I think I'm feeling a little jealous even now. Do you love him?”

He sure isn't beating around the bush, is he? Nancy thought, but decided to give an answer. “It's just not the right time. I'm...not myself. I've stepped away from my work. That's why I'm back in River Heights. There's things I need to take care of before I permanently go back to Chicago. Frank and I both agreed we'd take a break for a while.”

“You still didn't answer my question,” Ned said.

“What?”

“Do you love him?”

“I don't know. Sometimes I think we're just too much alike. We both live the same kind of life, and we make a great team. Professionally, I mean. I don't want us to make a mistake thinking that just because we're compatible intellectually means we're compatible as a romantic couple.”

Frank Hardy. Intelligent, handsome, warm, compassionate and honourable. A rare combination in the men she encountered in her line of work...

“Do you still love me?” Ned asked, breaking her thoughts.

“I don't know how to answer that, either, Ned. We're different people than we were a year ago. I don't know what to do about that. If you'd asked me last year if I thought it was possible we wouldn't be together, that there would be this rift between us, I would have given an emphatic 'no'. But now...Look, I've been seeing a police department psychologist to help me get through what happened to me last year. I just can't deal with anything else. This is a very bad time to be asking me if I still love you.”

“Okay. I won't push it, Nan. But I just want to say again that breaking up with you was the most foolish thing I've ever done. I allowed myself to be convinced that I would never be able to move on with my life if I was still living with the ghost of you. Let me tell you what my year of hell was like, just so you know it wasn't an easy thing to decide I should let you go:

“I spent most of the year feeling cold and numb. I couldn't eat or sleep. My job performance was down the tubes...My parents, my boss, coworkers and friends were all pretty worried. Finally it came to me I had to face the facts: you were dead and you weren't coming back. I was seeing someone – professionally – and between the two of us, I had to conclude that if I didn't let you go, it was either going to kill me, or I was going to kill myself. As it happened, I bumped into Denise a few days after that decision. I'll be honest: it was almost like seeing you in the flesh, even though I knew, rationally, that it wasn't you. Like I said, I think Denise was all too happy to hook up with me, too. Old crushes die hard.

“When I heard you were alive, I didn't know what to feel. It was like my brains and heart were being scrambled together in a high-speed blender. Just when I thought I was getting my life back together; just when things were finally beginning to make some sense, the rules got changed again.”

Nancy broke in: “And I spent my year barely hanging onto my sanity, worried sick about what news of my supposed death was doing to you and to everyone else. So many nights went by that I wished I could have called you to tell you I was alive, but it would have been too dangerous. I was also on the biggest guilt-trip imaginable, especially for what happened to George...”

“She's forgiven you, Nancy; you really should do the same.”

“I know. And for the most part, I have. But every time I see her, I can't help but think that her life, and pretty much everyone else's life would be better if they hadn't known me or been around me. It was easy when people didn't get seriously hurt on my cases. But now...I'm not even sure I want to go back to that life.”

Ned stared at her with a shocked expression on his face. “I never thought I'd live to see the day when I'd hear you say that. You're Nancy Drew, famous detective!”

Nancy gave a short, harsh laugh.

“Don't forget I've been with you on cases that turned dangerous, Nan,” he said. “I realized a long time ago that solving mysteries was your lifeblood. Like an artist that has to paint, an author that has to write, an actor that has to perform, or an athlete that has to compete, you wouldn't be you if you weren't out there on a case. The ugly truth is I was both jealous of the time you seemed to lavish on your cases, and scared to death I would lose you, somehow. But I don't want a Nancy Drew that doesn't have that spark of life in her eyes – and we were together long enough for me to know that spark comes when you're in your element. Solving mysteries is what you were made to do, Nancy. I can't fight that fact anymore.”

How I wish I could have heard you say that when I returned home, Nancy thought mournfully. Confusion reigned. I was just getting used to the idea he didn't want me...I was cutting ties. I was exploring the possibilities with someone new...And here he comes, trying to make amends for what he did...

She felt his warm hand on hers, and she resisted the sudden, spiteful urge to pull it away. You don't deserve to touch me; you hurt me terribly, she wanted to say, but let the words die on her tongue. He suffered when he thought you were dead. He's only human. Maybe you should cut him some slack.

“Nan,” Ned said softly, “I know I'm not worthy of a second chance. I know we've changed as individuals. But we had something once.”

“Once,” Nancy said with a nod. “I was ready to go forward when I returned, Ned. I'm not the one who threw away what we had.”

Ned hung his head.

“I really should go now,” Nancy said, extricating her hand from his and pulling herself up from her seat. “I have to drive into Chicago for a session with my shrink.”

Ned rose with her and reached out for her again. “Wait,” he said.

“What do you want from me?” Nancy said impatiently.

“I want to know that you'll consider getting to know me again. We both agree we're different people now. Fine. Since there's nothing we can do about that, can we pretend like we've never met before? Can we build something new?”

Nancy felt torn. Ned was begging for a second chance. Here is the man you were planning to spend the rest of your life with. If you can mend the broken ties you had with him now, then you can weather anything life throws at you. Admit it, Drew. You still care for the guy, even though he broke your heart.

“I can't be involved with anyone right now,” Nancy finally responded. “I'm too much of a mess. I can't guarantee the time will ever be right, either.”

“That's okay, Nancy,” Ned said, almost desperate to show his sincerity, “I waited for months for you to return to me, and I wish I'd waited longer. But I know now that I can wait again. You're the only one for me, Nancy.”

He stepped towards her, and she did not draw back, nor did she resist when he embraced her. She felt a strong desire to return his embrace, and found her arms encircling his broad shoulders.

I'm in the arms of the one I wanted to be in for so long...

“I've missed you so much, Nancy...I've been such a fool. I love you so much...” Ned was murmuring. He nuzzled the side of her head, burying his face in her hair.

She was shocked to realize he was crying.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

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.