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one.
Daphne’s heart has never tumbled out of her chest faster than the moment she lays her eyes on the petrified statue of Velma.
Daphne and Fred had lost Velma at some point while being chased around by Cleopatra’s army of the undead in her tomb, which was more like Cleopatra’s inescapable maze than anything. They’ve sprinted up and down so many stairs that Daphne’s struggling to even pant, and the worst part is that she’s almost positive that they’ve passed the same set of coffins four separate times now with no sign of an exit. Daphne’s no history nerd like Velma, but trapping everyone—including greedy treasure hunters like Dr. Amelia Von Butch—inside the very tomb that the ancient Egyptian queen was trying to protect doesn’t exactly seem like the brightest of ideas. Surely at some point, someone is bound to wander around enough to find the secret treasure by pure chance before the curse can turn them to stone.
And even then, Daphne muses, why are those who want to protect the tomb the most being punished? Prince Omar had wanted nothing more but to protect the tomb and he’d been turned to stone. And even if the prince had secret ulterior motives, Velma certainly didn’t, and well—
“Velma’s been struck by the curse!”
“Okay, that’s it! This curse is going down. This time, it’s personal.”
Yeah, Daphne agrees silently, even as the bile rises to her throat. If Velma’s pure-hearted intentions weren’t enough to save her, then who’s to say that they aren’t next in line to perish? If Velma’s gone… how are they going to solve this mystery when they’ve never even solved a mystery without her before?
And if they fall to the curse too before they can figure that out… who is going to save Velma? Who is going to save all of them?
Daphne’s stomach does a weird lurch every time she notices the ankh necklace. And when she finally, finally realizes exactly why she and Fred had been mugged by who could only be Von Butch’s lackeys, she nearly vomits onto the staircase they’re sitting on.
Velma might not know about any of it—and if she did, she would be understanding—but the razor-sharp pang of guilt stabs through Daphne all the same. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that Velma trusted them the most with the necklace and she’d ended up losing it all the same. Velma might not have had any choice when the curse struck, but at the time it’d felt like the other girl knew her fate and had deliberately left the necklace out to them. Like an offering of sorts, one of utmost faith, stolen in Daphne’s negligence.
The rest of the case is a blur. Fred’s plan veers horribly off-course as on-brand for Fred, but even more so than usual. Instead of capturing the mummified Cleopatra like they’d initially intended, she wouldn’t chase the gang. And when the entire tomb was flooded with the water of the Nile River and they barely got away with their lives intact, the mummy sits up on the other side of the rowboat and stops moving.
Daphne’s about ready to strangle the weakened Cleopatra with her scarf when Scooby starts inexplicably licking her face over and over. And before the rest of them can say anything else, the mask finally falls off and Daphne’s sure her eyes are as big as the Mystery Machine when she sees the face underneath.
“Velma?!” they all cry out simultaneously—besides Scooby, who continues to lap at Velma’s face vigorously. Daphne’s blinking away tears—of relief, she thinks, or maybe of happiness?—as she looks at Velma, right as the other girl slips her arms around Scooby in a hug.
“Okay, Scooby, okay!” Velma says, laughing, as the rest of the gang sit in shocked silence.
And Daphne might be slightly upset that Velma hadn’t informed them of her plan—maybe then she could’ve spent the entire case not worried sick about rescuing Velma—but later, when Velma takes Daphne’s hands into her own she can’t seem to remember exactly what she was upset over.
two.
The entire time she’s sitting in the passenger seat for this fake date, all Daphne can think of is just how much fun Velma must have been playing matchmaker when she’d planned everything out, and how Daphne hadn’t been able to prepare mentally before it’d happened.
It’s no secret—to anyone who isn’t the person in question, that is—that Daphne had a crush on Fred. The key word, however, is ‘had’. There’s a reason why she’d asked Velma to move in with her despite having spent more time overall with Fred when the gang were split, and Velma had done so wholly enthusiastically. Now that she’s actually thinking about it, Velma probably still thinks Daphne’s into Fred, and well…
I’d feel a lot better if I was sitting next to her, actually, Daphne muses. It’s far easier to talk to her than with Fred. And while she gets the many reasons why Velma couldn’t be on the fake date with her, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still fairly uncomfortable. Not that she’d ever complain to Velma over this plan, of course—she far prefers this over being imprisoned for a crime they didn’t commit.
“Nice weather we’re having!” Fred exclaims abruptly, shaking her from her thoughts.
“Yes, it is,” Daphne responds just as awkwardly. “Not too hot.”
“No. No, it isn’t.”
“Oh, for—” Velma’s voice cuts in impatiently. “You two are supposed to be on a date, not making small talk with your Aunt Tilly! If it doesn’t look legit, no one’s ever going to fall for the bait! Fred, put your arm around her or something!”
“Alright, alright!” Fred winces.
Please don’t, actually, Daphne pleads nonverbally as Fred whistles and cracks his knuckles. And instead of actually placing his arm around her shoulders like Velma had just yelled at him to do, he simply drapes his arm on top of her seat.
Daphne flinches away.
“Lots of pollen in the air, though,” Fred says, giving her the most pained grin she’s ever seen on anyone’s face.
“What? Oh,” she responds—and honestly, the point of this entire conversation is completely lost on her now, because only an idiot would even begin to consider this to be a real date. “Yes. Terrible.”
“I have hay fever.”
Someone give me patience, Daphne thinks, because if you give me strength I may punch something.
three.
When the gang was told that they’d won the free trip to space, Daphne had been nothing short of ecstatic. And while her enthusiasm didn’t come close to matching Velma’s (at the chance of becoming a real astronaut) or Shaggy and Scooby-Doo’s (because they were going to meet the U-Boat), she was still certainly excited to go on a life-changing journey.
And well, at the end of the day, Daphne did go on a life-changing journey—though she’d expected there to be a lot less arguing and near-death experiences and backstabbing people who, in hindsight, were far too nice on the exterior to be real anyway. Shannon had made Daphne feel like something more while truly turning her into something less. And the worst part is, there had been red flags everywhere—most notably how Velma’s perception of Shannon had only soured during their time together. Daphne hates that she’d been too blind to see what Velma had seen all along, especially when she’s supposed to be the one with an excellent judge of character.
And now we’re all going to die because of me, Daphne thinks desperately, the fear pooling into stomach.
“What’s the hold up?” Colt’s voice cuts in through the radio.
“Uh, everybody’s been knocked out. There’s nobody to fly the ship!”
“Yes, there is,” Velma says, and Daphne turns to see Velma walking over towards her. “Stand by.”
Velma’s grinning—the first time she’d even seen Velma smile since aboard the ship, considering that they’d been arguing the entire damn trip over their friendship, and wait a second—
“No! No way, Velma. I can’t!” Daphne yelps, backing away from Velma. “You heard Shannon. She faked the scores.” And when Velma doesn’t falter, still smiling at her with all the confidence in the world, the panic begins to seep in. Daphne steps forwards and grabs Velma’s shoulders, because seriously, they are so screwed if she’s the one to fly the airship. “Velma,” she continues urgently, her voice rising in pitch. “I can’t even drive Fred’s van. I just don’t have the right stuff.”
“Yes, you do!” Velma exclaims. “You were on that bridge with Shannon. You’re the only one that saw how she flew this thing. Right now, you know more than I do about this.”
Her gaze softens. Daphne doesn’t protest—how can she, really, when her mind is racing so quickly that she isn’t even able to move?
“Sure, Shannon might have faked your score, but it doesn’t matter, Daphne. It’s just a piece of paper. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what I already know.” Velma places her hands comfortingly on Daphne’s arms, easing the goosebumps underneath her suit. “That I believe in you, and that you can do anything you put your mind to, Daphne.”
Daphne blinks. For the first time in a long time, she’s genuinely speechless. And while her heart is still in her throat and she’s almost positive that they’re all about to die horrible deaths in space, Velma’s placing all of her faith in Daphne and she has to, at the bare minimum, try.
Daphne grabs the control wheel.
Beside her, Velma gives her an encouraging nod and a brilliant smile.
We’re all going to live because of me, Daphne promises her silently, ignoring the uncertainty poisoning her nerves and gripping the wheel tighter.
four.
Velma’s mind, as Daphne has come to know, really works in the strangest ways. Daphne may not understand everything in comparison to Velma’s brilliance, but the other woman’s intellect is truly something Daphne admires and fears at the same time.
One of the things Daphne will never truly get is just how trusting Velma is. For example, despite all of Daphne’s shortcomings over the years, Velma still steps up and places all of her confidence in Daphne consistently. Since the very beginning of their friendship, Velma was almost always the one carrying the gang—the Scooby-Doo Detective Agency, as it was called back then—in pretty much anything, whether it be escaping from the monster or basically solving the entire case. It’s not that Daphne doesn’t like it or anything, but Velma’s never failed in anything she’s done and Daphne… well, she has no idea when she suddenly became the person that Velma relied on when things got tough, but the job alone is a strange weight on her shoulders.
Besides trusting Daphne though, the absolute cataclysm of this Halloween case certainly wasn’t Velma’s first tango with a villain the size of the Scarecrow—or Doctor Crane—and she’s… concerned, to say the least. Velma had been standing in the gaping opening of the police truck staring down at Daphne just moments ago—it’d been sawed open earlier by pumpkins of all things—but Daphne could tell that the gears turning in her head weren’t on how to get out of there.
“Get in the car, Velma!” Daphne had urged her.
“I can’t leave Dr. Crane in there!”
“Yeah, you can. It’s easy. I already did it!”
And now presently, her concern turns painfully sour. Daphne knows every one of Velma’s expressions by heart—she’s not very good at hiding her emotions, after all—and the hesitation she catches sight of before Velma turns away sends a chill down her spine. Dr. Crane stands stone-faced as he stares down the saw cutting into the truck, and when Velma begins to move towards him she suddenly understands with a heartstopping jolt.
Velma’s going to free him. Velma Dinkley, the most kindhearted person that Daphne has ever known, is going to let the Scarecrow go.
“‘Don’t worry, I won’t sting you,’ said the scorpion to the frog,” she hears Velma mutter, and that’s when Daphne knows Velma’s lost it mentally. They have no guarantee that the Scarecrow won’t attack them the second he’s freed, and Velma would be the first in his line of fire—but even so, Daphne can only wait with bated breath and a heart pounding louder than Shaggy and Scooby-Doo’s empty stomachs.
It doesn’t take very long for Velma to open Dr. Crane’s cell, and it takes even less time for Velma to leap safely into Daphne’s arms.
“I freed Dr. Crane,” Velma says, sounding disoriented, and Daphne can’t really blame her even if she wanted to.
“What…” she begins. What is she even supposed to say here? Thing is, if Velma jumped off a cliff Daphne would follow without hesitation, but if the Scarecrow did… “Are we going to be okay?”
Velma, to her utter dismay, has the nerve to shrug. “I… took a gamble.”
Velma’s really lost her marbles, then. Velma never gambles, especially if her life depends on it. Something about shoddy statistics and how the numbers can always screw people over, if Daphne remembers correctly.
“…and?” she prompts instead.
Velma leans closer to Daphne, expression serious. “Do you trust me?”
Daphne blinks at her.
“V,” she says gently, “what do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”
Velma stares back at Daphne, a little misty-eyed.
“I know. I just… need a little reassurance. From, uh, you specifically. This entire case is messing with my head.”
Daphne doesn’t question it—just places her hand over Velma’s and gives it a squeeze.
“I trust you with my whole heart,” Daphne says, and the smile Velma gives her is enough.
five.
Over the years, Daphne’s mentally cataloged the extent of all of Velma’s outbursts and can predict, not unlike that of a weather forecaster, exactly how extreme she’ll be. Daphne has also gotten calming Velma down to an exact science. Usually it just means letting her finish her rant (which Daphne finds extremely endearing and adorable most of the time, albeit slightly concerning) before giving Velma what she needs, whether it be physical comfort or words of encouragement. Very rarely, however, does it get to a point that Daphne has deemed “nuclear”, where Velma forgoes words altogether and jumps to chucking something out of frustration. It’s fairly understandable that she does get pushed to that point at times—Velma is by far the most passionate member of the gang and can get very riled up when all the wrong buttons are pressed. Daphne even has a whole list of topics filed away in her mind that should be avoided at all costs.
One of these more recent topics that Daphne’s found is the improper use of fonts. This one surprised her—Velma has never been one to care much about appearances and especially not so angrily—but she supposes it’s fair when the other woman spends so much of her time with technology.
“This is terrible! Look at this!” Velma exclaims, holding up her tablet’s screen with the Crazy Q Ranch website up to Daphne’s face. “They used El Kabong font! The whole website is El Kabong! What is it, a lost kitten flier? Using El Kabong is like putting salt in someone’s eyes! In everyone’s eyes!”
“We’ve had this talk before, Velma,” Daphne says, gently taking the tablet from Velma’s outstretched hands and offering her a paper bag. “A healthy person does not get this upset about fonts.”
Still, even with all of this, it doesn’t really prepare Daphne for when the ranch hand Rafe decides to pull the rug from underneath her and tell Velma that he’d been the one to make the website after he’d placed a perfectly throwable book in the latter’s hands.
“Did you see it? Made it myself,” Rafe proclaims, far prouder than he really should be. “Pretty darn professional, huh?”
“Yeah,” Velma gets out sarcastically, “nice font.”
After seeing Rafe’s completely tasteless phone, Daphne’s much more inclined to agree with Velma. But as much as she’d like to express that sentiment, Velma’s bare-white knuckles and gritted teeth is a reaction Daphne thinks is extreme enough to cover both of them. Oh, and if they really want a chance to solve the mystery at hand, it’ll probably be much easier if they don’t get thrown out for giving the ranch hand a concussion. (Not that it’s ever stopped them in the past, but… still.)
“Yup, I purely love that El Kabong,” he says, still completely oblivious. “Whoo-hoo!”
Velma’s fully winding up to fling the book at Rafe when Daphne dives in front of Velma with an outstretched arm. Thankfully, Velma does stop, but it doesn’t stop her from giving Daphne an incredibly disgruntled look.
Daphne stares her down disapprovingly.
Velma slowly lowers the book.
Daphne breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at the other woman.
And when Velma does solve the case later because of the El Kabong font, Daphne lets her have that one even if she still has to stop the former from ranting to the point of hyperventilation again.
plus one.
It’s not until they see Daphne tied to the makeshift altar in preparation for the vampire wedding that Velma realizes just how dire the situation is.
It’s obvious that the wedding is the sham—the entire plot is a sham, and not a very well-hidden one at that—but it’s clear to her now that she’d vastly underestimated just how far the author Vincent Van Helsing was willing to go in order to save the town of Petit Chauve Sourie Ville. And, well, something that Velma constantly has to remind herself is that just because it’s obvious to her doesn’t make it obvious for other people—and the actors of the Fangenschanz troupe, from what she’s seen, are fairly stupid.
She and Fred should’ve gone with Daphne, Velma muses, when she’d offered to investigate Fangenschanz. Daphne had insisted that she go alone and Velma knew it was because Daphne was infatuated with the actor Bram initially, but Velma also knew that Daphne was smart and clever in her own right and hadn’t been too worried. All of this was so stupidly predictable anyway—the very reason they were even in this town to begin with was because of a case that had almost gone steeply downhill because of Fred messing up his own plan and not having any backup plan because he was just so sure that the first one would work. Daphne had no backup plan, and she’d placed so much faith into Daphne that they never made one, and now Fred’s main plan for catching the vampire king Valdronya might go haywire as well. And spoiler alert: they still don’t have a backup plan—though that’s Fred, Scooby, and Shaggy’s problem this time around, since Velma’s only part is to free Daphne and get her out of the chemicals.
“Daphne, you okay?!” Velma cries out, approaching Daphne.
Speaking of Daphne, she looks… barely conscious, but perks up at the sound of Velma. She then leans her face directly into Velma’s palm, smiling contentedly, and it’s all Velma can focus on to try and stop herself from spiraling.
“Velma, you came to my wedding!” Daphne slurs, and something in Velma slips and shatters into an innumerable amount of pieces. Quickly, Velma wipes away the tears streaming down her face and begins untying Daphne’s wrists. “Aw, don’t cry Velma. You won’t be a bridesmaid forever.”
Velma’s hands still as she turns back to Daphne. Even now, mind addled with chemicals, the bright green eyes that peer right into Velma’s soul are genuine—filled to the brim with an adoration that Velma isn’t quite sure how to explain.
It only makes Velma want to cry more.
“I’m not crying,” she lies, praying the loopy Daphne won’t notice. “Valdronya’s using gas to hypnotize everyone.”
Daphne snorts. “Whatever you’ve gotta tell yourself,” she giggles—and fuck, why is it that even this version of Daphne can see right through Velma?
It’s harder than Velma had originally thought to unravel the second rope from Daphne’s wrist, especially with Daphne draped over her and the way she has to keep trying to blink away her tears. She’s distracted to say the least—her mind running faster than she could possibly wish to, from how could this happen? to I should’ve been here for you. And when Velma does free Daphne, it takes all of her strength to stop Daphne from tripping and crashing her way down the stairs, and all Velma can think of is how the other woman could do and have anything else in the world and instead chooses to help them solve mysteries.
Daphne deserves the world, and how fortunate for the world that she doesn’t want it all.
They walk in silence for a little bit—or, correction: Velma carries Daphne in silence for what feels like an inordinate amount of time. By the time they’re out of the green mist, she’s pretty sure Daphne is unconscious again, having snuggled her face into Velma’s neck. Velma’s exhausted, but determined—and it’s all she can think of to keep her knees from buckling underneath her.
“Velms,” Daphne says, nearly making Velma jump. It’s the clearest Daphne’s voice has been since Valdronya had released the sleeping agent. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, Daph?”
“Thank you,” she murmurs, slowly untangling herself from Velma. “I really hate being the damsel in distress, but—”
Velma doesn’t let her finish. She tackles Daphne into a hug, which Daphne readily accepts, and they cling onto each other like they’re each other’s lifelines.
“I was worried,” Velma says quietly, hugging Daphne tighter. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I didn’t realize that he’d—”
“I’m sorry,” Daphne whispers. “I bit off more than I could chew. Bram offered me immortality, and—”
“Please don’t go,” Velma blurts out frantically, despite knowing that absolutely all of it is fake. “I love you.”
Her eyes widen. And when Daphne steps away from the hug, Velma steels herself for the worst.
Instead, Daphne blushes.
“I love you too,” Daphne says, and gently places her hand into Velma’s.
They smile at each other, and something simply slides into place. Velma doesn’t think she could ever forget this feeling—all cheesy things, she’s sure, but all things those romantic novels had depicted nonetheless. There’s a fullness in her chest that isn’t from any sort of sickness—or so she thinks, maybe she should get that checked out—and she’s… happy. Really happy. Like being at a Hex Girls concert kind of happy.
And sure, they’re still in a little bit of a time crunch and there’s only one person in the world that could yell as loudly (Velma’s willing to bet even louder, actually) and prolongedly as an airboat propeller, but Velma’s decided that she's allowed to enjoy this.
And even if she doesn’t… Daphne certainly does.