Home Away From Home: Columbus Day, Part 2
Jul. 29th, 2009 06:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
andverygingerTitle: Home Away From Home: Columbus Day (Part 2)
Fandom: Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys
Pairing: Implied Frank/Nancy.
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Used for entertainment only. Grant-funded government employee. Blood. Turnip.
Notes: I started writing this as a means to an end: A way to explore some events I referenced in an ND/HB mystery I've been working on, taking place after Frank and Nancy graduate university. Last week, I asked a friend if she would like me to write some fic to entertain her while she recovered from what, for most of us, would be a fairly routine injury. Unfortunately, she passed away unexpectedly a few days ago. This is dedicated to her, with hopes that her request will inspire me to at least finish this arc.
***
Laura Hardy was waiting outside the station when Nancy arrived. She greeted Nancy warmly, wrapping her in a hug. “Good to see you, young lady,” she said.
Nancy returned the embrace. “Good to see you, too. It’s really been too long!”
Drawing back, Laura gave her a once-over. “You look good – a little tired, but good. By the time you go back on Monday morning, we’ll have you back to your normal self.” She gave Nan’s shoulders a squeeze. “Now, any bags?”
Nancy gestured to her backpack and the small, wheeled carry-on at her side. “This is it. Thankfully, I don’t pack like Bess.”
Both women laughed, then loaded into the sedan Laura drove. They chatted amiably as Mrs. Hardy maneuvered the car through the older, charismatic neighborhoods of Bayport. They weren’t, Nancy thought, all that different from those surrounding her school in Arlington – streets lined with towering oaks, shading colonial-style brick houses as old as the trees themselves.
The Hardy home was no exception. Built around the turn of the century, it was solidly constructed of stone and mortar, surrounded by ancient trees and an English garden. Frank and Joe’s father, Fenton, liked to brag that it had seen three generations of Hardy males into adulthood: his father, himself, and now the two brothers. It was perhaps for this reason that, for all the cold stone exterior, it seemed warm and welcoming to Nancy.
Setting the parking brake, Laura cleared her throat. “You haven’t talked to the boys at all this month, have you?”
Nancy shook her head. “Frank and I haven’t even exchanged e-mails this month – we’ve both been busy, I suppose.”
“Well, then, I have a confession to make.” Nancy furrowed her brows as she regarded Laura. What could Laura Hardy possibly have to confess to her? “I, ah, never told the boys you were coming. I decided early on that your visit would be a great surprise for them both, so…”
“So they don’t know I’m here.”
“Not yet.”
A wry grin curled across Nancy’s lips. “This is about to get interesting.”
Laura grinned as well. There was a spring in her step as she led the way into the house. Nancy thought she understood – living in a house full of detectives, it was rare to spring a surprise. Something told Nancy that Laura was about to pull it off.
“That you, Laura?”
The tall, solid form of Fenton Hardy rounded the corner from his study. Like his eldest son, he was handsome and capped with dark hair, now liberally streaked with silver. The black oxford shirt he wore accented his features and offered a stark contrast to the fair-haired Laura. His dark eyes sparkled as they lit upon his wife. “I see you picked up a little something extra while you were in town today.”
“I did indeed,” Laura replied. Beaming, she began removing her cardigan and hung it in the coat closet. “There I was, near the station, and I found this familiar little redhead standing there. I just couldn’t leave her...”
Fenton laughed. “No, I imagine you couldn’t.” He wrapped an arm around Nancy’s shoulders, squeezing them slightly in a hug. “And how are you, Nancy? Doing okay?”
“Better now,” Nancy replied with a smile. “Though I definitely want to talk to you later about whether or not all this torture I’m putting myself through is worth it.”
“It’s worth it. But you’re right: it can wait till later. We’ll also,” he noted, leveling a gaze at Laura, “talk about how my dear wife managed to pull this off. For now… I suspect there are two gentlemen upstairs who would probably like to know you’re here.”
“I think I’d kinda like to see them, myself.”
Crossing to the staircase, Fenton leaned against the railing, chin tilted upward. “Frank! Joe!” he called. “Come down and give your mother a hand!”
Joe Hardy was the first to emerge from his room. Tall and muscular, he had inherited his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes. In the year apart, he had allowed his blond hair to grow. It now framed his face in a fuzzy manner unfamiliar to Nancy. The blue eyes, glinting with mischief, remained the same, however. He was definitely his mother’s son.
“Nan!” he exclaimed. He leapt easily down the last few stairs and landed just before Nancy. She was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug before she could blink. When he released her, he shook his head. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? No one told us you were coming!”
“You can blame your mother for that one,” Nancy answered. “We’ve been plotting this little trip for a month.”
Joe looked to his mother. “Wow. Score one for the home team! That was pretty good, Mom.”
“Married to a cop and mother to two detectives, I think I can learn to be sneaky, too.” Reaching out, Laura pinched at Joe’s side. He jerked away and yelped. “And don’t you forget it.”
Pouting, Joe rubbed his side. “All right, all right. Mom’s the sneaky one.”
It was then that a second door opened at the top of the stairs. Frank Hardy, eldest son to Fenton and Laura, appeared at the landing. “What’s all the –“ He stopped, seeing Nancy at the foot of the stairs. His eyes widened, and he bounded down the staircase. Without a word, he drew her to him, embrace strong and warm.
Nancy felt a jolt rush through her and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her. A long moment passed before she found her voice. When she did, it was barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Hardy,” she managed.
“I've got a pretty good idea, Drew.” His breath stirred her hair, and she could almost feel his lips move against her ear. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay away so long.” He released her slowly – reluctantly – as they both realized any longer might be inappropriate. Still, an uneasy silence settled over the room, despite their best efforts.
It was Laura who broke the silence that settled over the room. “Joe, why don’t you show Nancy to the guest room? Frank, you come give me a hand getting the groceries out of the car.” She gave a smile, moving to squeeze her eldest son on the shoulder, before shuffling him and Fenton off toward the garage.
Joe jerked his head in the general direction of the staircase. “C’mon, Nan. It’s not like the guest rooms have moved. I think Mom may have repainted since you were here, though…”
Forcing a smile, Nancy followed Joe up the stairs as he rattled on about the various cosmetic changes Laura Hardy had insisted on making in the past year. She didn’t hardly hear a word, her attention focused on the awkward moment with Frank. If that was an example of times to come, she thought, she was afraid her trip might not be so restful, after all.
Fandom: Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys
Pairing: Implied Frank/Nancy.
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Used for entertainment only. Grant-funded government employee. Blood. Turnip.
Notes: I started writing this as a means to an end: A way to explore some events I referenced in an ND/HB mystery I've been working on, taking place after Frank and Nancy graduate university. Last week, I asked a friend if she would like me to write some fic to entertain her while she recovered from what, for most of us, would be a fairly routine injury. Unfortunately, she passed away unexpectedly a few days ago. This is dedicated to her, with hopes that her request will inspire me to at least finish this arc.
***
Laura Hardy was waiting outside the station when Nancy arrived. She greeted Nancy warmly, wrapping her in a hug. “Good to see you, young lady,” she said.
Nancy returned the embrace. “Good to see you, too. It’s really been too long!”
Drawing back, Laura gave her a once-over. “You look good – a little tired, but good. By the time you go back on Monday morning, we’ll have you back to your normal self.” She gave Nan’s shoulders a squeeze. “Now, any bags?”
Nancy gestured to her backpack and the small, wheeled carry-on at her side. “This is it. Thankfully, I don’t pack like Bess.”
Both women laughed, then loaded into the sedan Laura drove. They chatted amiably as Mrs. Hardy maneuvered the car through the older, charismatic neighborhoods of Bayport. They weren’t, Nancy thought, all that different from those surrounding her school in Arlington – streets lined with towering oaks, shading colonial-style brick houses as old as the trees themselves.
The Hardy home was no exception. Built around the turn of the century, it was solidly constructed of stone and mortar, surrounded by ancient trees and an English garden. Frank and Joe’s father, Fenton, liked to brag that it had seen three generations of Hardy males into adulthood: his father, himself, and now the two brothers. It was perhaps for this reason that, for all the cold stone exterior, it seemed warm and welcoming to Nancy.
Setting the parking brake, Laura cleared her throat. “You haven’t talked to the boys at all this month, have you?”
Nancy shook her head. “Frank and I haven’t even exchanged e-mails this month – we’ve both been busy, I suppose.”
“Well, then, I have a confession to make.” Nancy furrowed her brows as she regarded Laura. What could Laura Hardy possibly have to confess to her? “I, ah, never told the boys you were coming. I decided early on that your visit would be a great surprise for them both, so…”
“So they don’t know I’m here.”
“Not yet.”
A wry grin curled across Nancy’s lips. “This is about to get interesting.”
Laura grinned as well. There was a spring in her step as she led the way into the house. Nancy thought she understood – living in a house full of detectives, it was rare to spring a surprise. Something told Nancy that Laura was about to pull it off.
“That you, Laura?”
The tall, solid form of Fenton Hardy rounded the corner from his study. Like his eldest son, he was handsome and capped with dark hair, now liberally streaked with silver. The black oxford shirt he wore accented his features and offered a stark contrast to the fair-haired Laura. His dark eyes sparkled as they lit upon his wife. “I see you picked up a little something extra while you were in town today.”
“I did indeed,” Laura replied. Beaming, she began removing her cardigan and hung it in the coat closet. “There I was, near the station, and I found this familiar little redhead standing there. I just couldn’t leave her...”
Fenton laughed. “No, I imagine you couldn’t.” He wrapped an arm around Nancy’s shoulders, squeezing them slightly in a hug. “And how are you, Nancy? Doing okay?”
“Better now,” Nancy replied with a smile. “Though I definitely want to talk to you later about whether or not all this torture I’m putting myself through is worth it.”
“It’s worth it. But you’re right: it can wait till later. We’ll also,” he noted, leveling a gaze at Laura, “talk about how my dear wife managed to pull this off. For now… I suspect there are two gentlemen upstairs who would probably like to know you’re here.”
“I think I’d kinda like to see them, myself.”
Crossing to the staircase, Fenton leaned against the railing, chin tilted upward. “Frank! Joe!” he called. “Come down and give your mother a hand!”
Joe Hardy was the first to emerge from his room. Tall and muscular, he had inherited his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes. In the year apart, he had allowed his blond hair to grow. It now framed his face in a fuzzy manner unfamiliar to Nancy. The blue eyes, glinting with mischief, remained the same, however. He was definitely his mother’s son.
“Nan!” he exclaimed. He leapt easily down the last few stairs and landed just before Nancy. She was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug before she could blink. When he released her, he shook his head. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? No one told us you were coming!”
“You can blame your mother for that one,” Nancy answered. “We’ve been plotting this little trip for a month.”
Joe looked to his mother. “Wow. Score one for the home team! That was pretty good, Mom.”
“Married to a cop and mother to two detectives, I think I can learn to be sneaky, too.” Reaching out, Laura pinched at Joe’s side. He jerked away and yelped. “And don’t you forget it.”
Pouting, Joe rubbed his side. “All right, all right. Mom’s the sneaky one.”
It was then that a second door opened at the top of the stairs. Frank Hardy, eldest son to Fenton and Laura, appeared at the landing. “What’s all the –“ He stopped, seeing Nancy at the foot of the stairs. His eyes widened, and he bounded down the staircase. Without a word, he drew her to him, embrace strong and warm.
Nancy felt a jolt rush through her and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her. A long moment passed before she found her voice. When she did, it was barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Hardy,” she managed.
“I've got a pretty good idea, Drew.” His breath stirred her hair, and she could almost feel his lips move against her ear. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay away so long.” He released her slowly – reluctantly – as they both realized any longer might be inappropriate. Still, an uneasy silence settled over the room, despite their best efforts.
It was Laura who broke the silence that settled over the room. “Joe, why don’t you show Nancy to the guest room? Frank, you come give me a hand getting the groceries out of the car.” She gave a smile, moving to squeeze her eldest son on the shoulder, before shuffling him and Fenton off toward the garage.
Joe jerked his head in the general direction of the staircase. “C’mon, Nan. It’s not like the guest rooms have moved. I think Mom may have repainted since you were here, though…”
Forcing a smile, Nancy followed Joe up the stairs as he rattled on about the various cosmetic changes Laura Hardy had insisted on making in the past year. She didn’t hardly hear a word, her attention focused on the awkward moment with Frank. If that was an example of times to come, she thought, she was afraid her trip might not be so restful, after all.