Chapter Text
Velma’s eyes shot up from the page she was reading as she heard the door slam open. Standing at its entrance was her undeniably beautiful blond housemate with a heart of gold and a brain resembling a tiny, flickering lightbulb.
Fred was holding his cell phone triumphantly in the air, beaming at her with a grin of a child who knows he’s done something impressive. And he had.
“I hold, in my very hand,” Fred declared, “The solution to all of our rent problems!” It was at that moment that her other housemate, Shaggy, walked into the room, bringing a heavy stench of pot with him. “And, like, what is that? You finally got an internship that pays?”
While Velma could tell that, stoned out of his mind, Shaggy was being completely genuine, she could also see a slight pained expression cross Fred’s face as the words hit him close to home. It was true that Fred, even with a bachelor’s in business, was having difficulty finding a job, and was being forced to settle for jobs that didn’t pay him enough, or at all.
“Sorry Shaggy,” he said, wiping away any hint of a frown on his face, “you’re gonna have to keep flipping burgers to keep us afloat. But!” he announced, gesturing back to the phone in his hand for good measure, “I’ve finally found someone to fill that extra bedroom we have!”
“Jinkies Fred, that IS good news!” Velma exclaimed, applauding Fred for his good work. “Can you tell us their name?”
“Oh I can tell you a whole lot more than that,” Fred said with a sly grin, “The woman I just got off the phone with was an old flame from college, do either of you remember Daphne Blake?”
Velma could feel the blood rushing to her ears and the blush spreading across her face, she quickly turned her attention to a houseplant behind her, giving it a gentle spritz of water and making great efforts to hide her red face.
How is that even possible? she thought to herself, remembering the whirlwind of red hair and high-heeled boots that was Daphne Blake. Why on earth would she come back here?!
She knew her internal reaction was unjustified, she hardly even spoke to Daphne in school, and when she did it was little more than polite small talk about homework and the weather. But all the overthinking in her head couldn’t stop the blood pumping from her heart when she heard that name.
Her was brain flooding with images; glimpses caught during lectures, brushing of fingers as papers were being passes around, fiery red hair pushed back and contained by a purple headband. Velma shook her head in an attempt to shake her thoughts away, setting the spray bottle down and blowing out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
As she composed herself and came back to earth, Velma noticed that this whole time, Shaggy had been trying to wrack his clouded brain into remembering the significance of the name Daphne Blake.
“Was she that Italian exchange student with the... with the short brown hair?” “Nope!” Fred replied with a laugh, “Try again.” Shaggy squeezed his eyes shut and put on a very convincing thinking face,
“Okay, uh… was she—“ “Criminology 201 with Dr. Olson.” Velma interrupted.
“Bingo!” Fred cried out, “How did you remember that?” Velma moved back towards her book, offering up a shrug of false stoicism, “You just don’t forget a name like ‘Daphne Blake’” she replied, sinking back into the pages to avoid further questioning.
As she absorbed herself back into her reading, the sounds of her chatty housemates slowly began to fade away.
The night came slowly but eventually Shaggy left for his scheduled night shift, throwing his leftovers from dinner into a bowl for his rescue dog, Scooby. That dog would eat just about anything, Velma thought to herself as she watched the animal excitedly tear through the spaghetti Fred had made earlier in a haste to get dinner done quickly.
While Shaggy was definitely the chef of the house, Fred enjoyed having something to do and tried to make dinner for the gang at least once a week.
Fred knew his pasta wasn’t very good, but he ate it quickly before heading out the door to go meet up with some other friends in town. And Velma, being the raging party animal that she is, retired to bed with some tea and a book.
As she had perused her bookshelf, searching for tonight’s companion, her eyes fell on one of those trashy romance novels you find in newsstands.
It had a man with long hair and killer abs embracing a woman on the deck of a pirate ship.
Velma couldn’t remember when she had purchased it but when she saw it she let out a laugh, I bet this is exactly the kind of stuff Daphne Blake reads. That thought stopped her in her tracks.
Staring down at the book in her hand, her mind began to drift back to images of Daphne, she could feel her face growing warm again.
As the night crept on, Velma tore through the pages of that trashy romance novel like she had a report on it due tomorrow. Her eyes wide with excitement and her heart thundering in her chest as the hero and the heroine finally meet, only to have the cruel hands of fate and the sea tear them away again.
It ended on a hollywood-style kiss, of course, and as Velma closed the book in satisfaction, she turned her head to her clock that read 3:15 am.
She scolded herself for getting too caught up in such a brainless book, placed her glasses on her nightstand and closed her eyes to sleep. Her dreams where filled with the smells of red lipstick and floral perfumes.