Scooby Doo and all related characters are the property of Hanna-Barbera, Warner Bros., and /or Cartoon Network. Names, characters, locations, and events are fabricated from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

A/N: The other day my wife and granddaughter decided to make cookies. By the time they were through, the kitchen was such a total disaster area I thought about calling in the National Guard. Instead, I helped clean up with this story forming in my mind.

Enjoy.

Flour Power

"Norville Rogers!" Mom Rogers yelled at her son, "Get off the sofa and clean your room!"

"Like, okay mom." The last thing he wanted to do was spend Saturday cooped up in the house cleaning his room.

"Don't 'okay mom' me, I want that room clean when I get back from having my hair done. And take Scooby for a walk," she walked briskly out the door.

Resigned to the job, Norville, 'Shaggy', Rogers shuffled down the hall to his room with Scooby following. He didn't understand why his mom was so insistent on him cleaning his room. Sure there were dirty gym clothes he had meant to put in the laundry and there were the library and school books and homework papers he was supposed to have turned in but he could do that on Monday. Papers overflowed the desk top onto the floor, creating a sea of paper he'd have to wade through.

This didn't include the Scooby Snack crumbs and half eaten pizza slices he and Scooby had scattered over the floor the night before while watching scare movies until they both fell asleep. Shaggy looked forlornly around the room, trying desperately to decide just where to start. Scooby solved that problem by licking up some Scooby Snack crumbs.

He was jamming his gym sneakers into the closet and quickly closing the door when the phone rang. He was the only one in the house at the moment; he answered before the phone rang for the third time.

"Hello?"

"Hi Shag, are you free?"

"Cheap but not free," he recognized Velma's voice.

"Good, I could use some cheap labor. Mom and Dad are out shopping and I thought I'd make cookies for them and the gang. Your reward will be nice warm cookies fresh from the oven with some cold milk. All you have to do is help mix the batter," Velma offered, "later we can go to the malt shoppe."

"I do have to take Scooby to the park but that's on the way; if you don't mind?"

"We can make some Scooby Snacks too, if he doesn't eat all the dough like last time."

Now this was more like it! Fresh baked cookies and Scooby Snacks baked by a pretty girl and getting out of the house too? No problem, right?

"I think I can handle helping mix up some dough. Scooby and I will be right over."

---------Xxxxxx

Velma opened the door at his knock. She was dressed in her usual orange sweater and red skirt but without shoes; only her calf high orange socks adorned her feet.

"Come on in, Scooby, you are banned from the kitchen, I don't want you under foot or eating any dough this time. Shaggy, wash your hands then I need the eggs from the refrigerator and since you're taller, you can get the mixing bowl down."

"Don't worry Scoob, go into the living room. We'll let you know when the Scooby Snacks are ready."

Shaggy followed Velma into the kitchen area; Scooby went into the living room reluctantly. He hoped they wouldn't take long to bake his Snacks while he watched his two best friends as they went about the business of mixing the dough.

The always organized Velma had most of the ingredients laid out on the kitchen counter. She had really made two mistakes. The first was not telling Shaggy exactly which mixing bowl to get; the second would become apparent a bit later. The two friends fell into a relaxed conversation about school and other topics as they mixed the first batch.

"You get to use the beaters to mix the dough, I'll get the cookie sheet pans ready. The oven is pre heated and ready." Velma said at the ping the oven made. Scooby had indeed become aware that there was a very pretty girl in the room and with an exaggerated movement of his hips, bumped Velma who laughingly returned the bump. Shaggy thought she had a nice laugh and wondered why he hadn't noticed it before? After mixing the dough to the right consistency, he started to remove the beaters; this is where Velma's first mistake came into play and the second waited in the wings.

"Not that high!" Velma tried to warn Shaggy but was too late. The mixing bowl Shaggy had chosen was just a bit too small and when he lifted the beaters, cookie dough went flying around the room, including splattering Velma's sweater, the walls and some landing on the floor.

Now, any one with a dog knows, dogs have a number one rule. Even the best behaved dogs like Scooby can't ignore this rule. The rule is: "Any thing that falls on the floor is mine!" There are no exceptions to this rule and when the batter hit the floor a brown rocket came out of the living room. That in itself posed no problem but then Velma's second mistake reared its ugly head, namely no shoes, only socks.

Velma saw Scooby, realized what was about to happen, and tried to dodge out of the way. That was when the law of traction was added to the equation. Velma's socked feet had none and a chain of events was put into motion.

Scooby in his haste to get his batter on the floor, bumped a traction-less Velma, who careened into an unsuspecting Shaggy, grabbing a hand full of batter splattered green shirt. Shaggy had just enough time to drop the beaters back into the dough and twist enough to catch Velma before being pulled to the floor. The mixing bowl, now top heavy followed Shaggy to the floor.

"Are you okay, Velma?" A concerned Shaggy asked as he rolled to face her. Her head coming to rest on his arm, "What just happened?" He looked into her warm eyes.

"I'm okay. I think we just experienced flour power." Velma started to laugh and when she didn't attempt to get up, Shaggy reached up with his free hand to pick some batter out of her hair, joining the laughter.

He liked her laughter and her lying on his arm. He stretched to kiss her forehead, "you got some on your cheek," she turned her head to let him graze her cheek with his lips. The laughter slowly died away. She turned her head enough to gaze into his eyes. "And a little on your chin." He may have aimed for her chin but Velma knew instinctively she was about to receive her first real kiss. She closed her eyes in anticipation.

Velma was not to get her first kiss just then. The cookie gods decided to intervene. The new couple had been so engrossed in the coming kiss, they didn't hear the front door open; didn't even know they were being watched.

"Velma Dinkley! I hope you two are planning on cleaning my kitchen soon!" Marlyn Dinkley stared down at her daughter.

"And Mr. Rogers and I will have a little talk in my study!" Harold Dinkley added.

"Mom...Dad! I...we didn't expect you home so early!" Velma stammered, "Shag, I think we're about to

be grounded."

"Yeah, like, for life!" Shaggy whispered. Then he made his big blunder. To free Velma and allow her to get up, he should have rolled away; but instead rolled toward her. With their lips so close, Velma got her first real kiss, although it was a quick one. It was long enough to return the kiss and send the message that there would be more, as soon as they were off being grounded. In, say, thirty years if they were lucky.

"Now Mr. Rogers!" An irate Mr. Dinkley bellowed.

"And don't think you get away so easily Suzie Q. After you clean up my kitchen, we are going to have a nice loooong talk!" Marlyn Dinkley said sternly but hid the twitching beginnings of a smile well.

"Ah, Mom!" Velma groaned as she rose.

The End