Hello! This story can be read as a standalone story, or as the sequel to In the Frame.

If you happen to read Wattpad and some of the ideas in this story sound familiar, it's because I'm borrowing some ideas from a story that I wrote ages ago (that's not a plug, I was not a good writer). But all the ideas in this story are my own. However, I do not own the rights to the ND/HB books.

Please don't forget to review!

"He's got a gun!" someone shouted.

Nancy Drew looked up, and sure enough, a man was striding toward her, gun cocked. His face was cold and dead, brow etched with deep furrows of concentration. As his empty eyes locked up hers, he raised his weapon and his finger found the trigger.

"Ma'am get out of the way!" a woman in uniform comprising of a Kevlar helmet and bulletproof vest cried. She threw herself in front of Nancy and fired a single, neat shot.

"He's down!" another uniformed man cried and, and the two agents jogged toward the prone shooter, guns still at the ready. The man leaning down to take a pulse, as his female partner quickly seized the weapon on the ground.

"Well done guys." Nancy clapped as the lights went on, illuminating the busy strip mall. Under low light, it had looked like any suburban strip on a Saturday or Sunday, but under the glare of the lights above, it became apparent they were all gathered in a giant warehouse that had been done up as a set. "Are you okay, Justin?"

"The shooter" sat up with a hand from the uniformed female. He grinned ruefully and rubbed his chest. "I'm fine. Only my pride is hurt." He made a face. "Jeez, Liv. They may be blanks, but they hurt like hell. I should have known you'd break my heart in as many ways as I could."

The woman narrowed her almond-shaped eyes and flicked her shiny dark hair out of her face. She ignored him and looked up at Nancy. "Did we pass?"

"Yes, Agent Pham. You passed the test. I'll be setting up individual meetings to talk feedback, about the test and perhaps a refresher on workplace harassment," she looked pointedly at Justin, then shook her head. "But you all did a great job. Now, why don't you all clean up and head out for lunch?"

Nancy was putting paperwork into her briefcase when she realized she wasn't alone. Agent Olivia Pham had walked up behind her and was waiting patiently.

"How can I help you, Agent Pham?"

"I'm sorry to annoy you, Special Agent Drew, but… I just… well, I was thinking as I shot Justin… I don't want to hurt anyone if I can help it. I heard you took down a potential terrorist last winter in New York. How did you do that without shooting him?"

"The difference was, Pham, he was unarmed. He'd left an armed bomb behind, and he was just trying to get away. My team stayed behind to disarm the bomb and I gave chase. He had to slow down to avoid getting hit by a car in the lot, and I took advantage of his slowed pace. I leaped on him from behind, tackled him to the ground. I didn't have handcuffs on me, but I was able to hold him at gunpoint until backup arrived. He'd already made a heap of mistakes, so he was pretty defeated. Besides, I relied on my team. That's important."

"I'd rather work with the Hardy brothers than Justin Bierman."

"Yeah, well… he needs to pull his weight and I'll talk to him about that. But you don't always get to pick your team, and you have to do your best to work with what you've got." Nancy's eyes looked past the young recruit, seeing something that wasn't in the room. "It's not always the best, to work with people you care about. Sometimes that makes it worse."

Before Olivia Pham could ask what Nancy meant, Nancy had flipped her briefcase closed. "Anyway, we can talk about it at our feedback meeting. I'm starving. I'll see you around, Agent Pham."

Nancy walked across Hogan's Alley, enjoying the sun on her face. She's always loved the training area, with its fake shopfronts and quaint streetlights. Just last week, Hogan's Alley had been dressed up as New York to re-enact 9/11. Tomorrow, it would probably be blank and empty, waiting for another scene to emerge out of the innocuous, impassive set. Working here reminded Nancy of a dollhouse she'd had as a young girl. She could change the fittings and move her dolls around to make stories and solve cases. But real life hadn't turned out that way. She hadn't been able to change things when they went bad. She couldn't just pick a happy ending when things went bad.

"Penny for your thoughts?" a familiar voice said, and Nancy turned to see her childhood best friend George Fayne approaching her. George looked fantastic in her navy-blue gym clothes. Her dark hair was cropped short and her skin was lovely and tanned. Nancy was glad her friend had managed to get a gig teaching martial arts at Quantico. It was only a temporary thing, but it was nice to have an old friend around to give her friendship and support.

"You can't afford that," Nancy teased. "Are you hungry?"

"Hell, yes I am. Keeping Tom Bierman in check really makes me work up an appetite."

"I know what you mean. His twin was in my test just now." Nancy hopped over the low boundary wall and lead the way to the cafeteria. The teachers and instructors occupied the far-right corner of the cavernous room, and the pair selected a small table off to the side, once they'd loaded up trays with burgers and salads.

"Did he pass?" George asked curiously. She took a sip of her drink.

"Well, all he had to do was get shot."

"That sounds like the life," George quipped. She pointed a fry at Nancy. "I bet you wish you'd been able to pull the trigger, though."

"Maybe a little," Nancy joked. She grew serious. "But I know there are better ways to work off my frustration than shooting my students with rubber bullets. He may be a flirt, but he's not the reason I'm pissed off. I can't take it all out on him."

"Do you think it's because he reminds you a little of Joe, that he gets under your skin?"

Nancy took a bite of her burger, so she didn't have to answer. But as she chewed, she thought about what George had said. Did Justin Bierman remind her of Joe Hardy? Maybe not in the looks department, but he was flirty and over-the-top. And that grin… that big, wide grin he did when he knew that no one could stay mad at him long.

"He is a bit of a charmer," she said non-committed.

"Not to you. I know Frank Hardy is still the only guy for you," George said firmly.

Nancy stood up, pushing her chair back. She knew she still had food left, but she couldn't stay sitting down talking about this. She had the irresistible urge to punch something, run until her lungs screamed for air. Her abrupt motion caused a couple of her colleagues to glance over, curious. But when Nancy started gathering her things, they looked away.

"Want to go to the gym?" Nancy asked.

George's brown eyes widened. "I'm still eating- you, are you sure? Won't you puke after lunch-"

"I'll be fine."

George's face clouded with understanding and she quickly polished off her meal. "I'll spot you, let myself digest. But, Nancy… you have to deal with this sooner rather than later. You can't just run away every time Frank Hardy's name comes up in conversation. It's not healthy."

Nancy didn't reply. She took off in a slow jog across the gently sloping quad.

George frowned and let out a sigh. "Wait up, Nan. I'm coming!" she called and hurried to catch up with her friend.