AN: I was inspired by the end of the 2007 Nancy Drew movie, which is Nancy/Ned but I don't ship them, so I made it a lot different and Nancy/Frank.

Disclaimer: This wasn't, isn't, and never will be mine.

The seventeen-year-old detective turned to his sixteen-year-old companion. The strawberry blond teen looked excited, sad, and relieved all at once.

"Mr. Moore got robbed by Mr. Mathers, who needed the money after his insurance business was bankrupt . He took all of Catherine Moore's precious stones, metals, and pieces of various jewelry to sell it to a friend who owns a jewelry store for a huge salary," the young detective explained.

"Then," Frank continued for her, "When my brother witnessed Mr. Mathers selling the jewelry to Ms. Johanson, they knocked him out and ran, but-"
"We caught them," Nancy finished the story to Chief McGinnis, the River Heights police chief.

Joe was at the hospital still. The man had hit him pretty hard, and with a metal rod, which Frank assumed to be some sort of crazy protection. Nancy and he had finished the investigation without him, which was easy and quick, all they had to do was track down their hiding place and charge after them. Strange how a small visit to a great friend can suddenly turn into a ravenously investigated mystery.

"Very well Miss Drew, I'll look into Mathers' arrest." Chief McGinnis turned to me. "Now, keep this girl out of trouble for a while, will you Frank? She gets into all too many messes that should be dealt with someone with far more protection." Nancy looked down at her feet guiltily. Frank realized with no small amount of surprise that Chief McGinnis meant for him to be Nancy's protection, but nevertheless, he saluted and said, "Will do, chief!"

As Nancy and Frank walked out of the building to the Hardys' car, the expressive female amateur detective exclaimed, "I don't need any protection! I can fend for myself!"

Frank laughed. Leave it to expressive and defensive Nancy to not need protection. "You certainly do have your fair share of trouble, though. Are you ever even slightly relieved when you solve a case?" he asked.

Nancy Drew looked solemnly at the ground. "Well, of course I am very happy that the people's problems are solved.

Frank loved that about her. She always loved to help people, and was so kind and smart and pretty. You couldn't help but like this girl, she was quite dazzling. He couldn't stand to see her so upset. "Every time you solve a mystery you get all sad, and stop listening to people and stay in your room reading. Or, you stop listening until the telephone rings, and someone calls to tell you their problems."

The young girl looked aghast and defiant. "I do no such thing!" she complained. Yet, she had been about to go to her room and read a new novel she had picked up yesterday, knowing the case would end soon. So much for that idea.

"Don't try to deny it, Nance, you have Post-Mystery Depression."

"You say that like it is a serious medical condition, but I am perfectly fine, I assure you. I am happy that I have solved another mystery, and just to prove it I'm going to keep talking to you, and not read any books whatsoever." She said this is an unconvincing tone, though, so he didn't believe her at all.

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At the Drew household the next day, Nancy and Frank decided to sit down in the living room and share stories. The bright light yellow and white room had been sweetly furnished, with a small television set, an ivory grand piano, and a brick fireplace.

They had been in the middle of a story about Frank and Joe being in Hawaii when their hotel room had been ransacked, when the telephone rang. Nancy leaped off the couch and flew to the phone, grabbing it hastily off the retriever.

"Hello?" she asked. "Yes, I have a friend here, he's a detective, too. Sure, we can help. We'll be right over." there was a slight pause between Nancy's rapid sentences.

Frank hasn't been listening to the phone, though. He stared at beautiful Nancy, talking excitedly into the telephone, while her mind must have been racing, one thousand thoughts a second, because she was a detective.

When the conversation was over, she awkwardly turned to see him staring. He shook it off and stood up, knowing what was coming next. "Frank, they've called us over to investigate a murder over in Chicago."

"We had better grab Joe from the hospital. They said it was okay for him to come out this morning. And tell your dad, too."

So they packed and went to the hospital, having a small argument along the way. Nancy had brightened thoroughly and was now quite cheerful, as opposed to the sadness she had once held.

"You have Post-Mystery Depression," he chided.

"Do not."

"Do too."

And they argued all the way there, and half of the way to Chicago, when Nancy fell asleep, resting her head on Frank's shoulder. But Frank knew he had won, because he knew Nancy Drew quite well enough. Ah, she was Nancy, the detective, his detective.