A/N; Hey all! Guess who's back? :D Anyways; check out my new story, a Fraphne one.
Daphne Blake sat in front of her dresser mirror, grudgingly running a brush through her long, red hair. Upon reaching the end of her tresses, she mechanically brought the brush to the top of her head, but decided against another brushstroke. Placing the brush back on her commode, she sighed, partly out of boredom and partly out of disgust. Ordinarily, she enjoyed primping herself, especially when it was for a date with Fred; but tonight, the situation was different.
The occasion was an evening cocktail party for her father's business; and as George Blake's daughter and heir to the family fortune, she had no choice but to attend. Every year, ever since Daphne could remember, the routine had been the same: mingle among the party guests and endure comments of how much she had grown since that same time last year and how much she resembled her mother. Thankfully, this year, her parents had allowed her to invite a date, and her immediate choice had been none other than her Mystery Inc. cohort, Fred Jones.
The thought of his name brought a fleeting smile to Daphne's lips, and momentarily dispelled the contempt that she felt about attending the party. Perhaps, she thought, with Fred as her escort, the evening would be more enjoyable. Maybe tonight would even be the night that Fred would reveal his true feelings for her. With that thought, she began primping herself once again, this time, with renewed vigor.
At that same moment, only a few blocks away, Fred was readying himself for the same occasion. Smoothing his dinner jacket and straightening his necktie, he surveyed himself in the mirror. Not bad, Mr. Jones, he thought confidently to himself. You look great. Suddenly, another thought entered his mind. ''I hope I look nice enough to impress Mr. and Mrs. Blake as well''.
Fred quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. It wasn't that he was nervous about his impending date with Daphne; he just felt uncomfortable about attending an occasion that was of such importance to her father. He recalled asking Daphne if she really wanted him to be her date for such a formal party, and how her response had simply ''been don't be ridiculous. Why would I want anybody else to be my date?'' A faint smile played across Fred's face as he recalled the comment. ''Maybe tonight will be the night that I can finally tell Daphne how I feel about her'', he thought to himself.
Revealing his feelings about Daphne was not an easy task for the blond man. It seemed that every time he worked up the courage to tell her his true feelings, something always got in the way: either the case's prime suspect was standing less than thirty yards away, or Scooby and Shaggy were being pursued by a skeletal zombie. But tonight, the situation was different. Shaggy and Scooby were nowhere near the venue, and Fred was confident that there wouldn t be a petty criminal among the partygoers. Yes, he thought. ''Tonight just might be what I have been waiting for''. Moments later, Fred stood on the doorstep of the Blake family mansion. Straightening his jacket one more time, he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
The family butler, Jenkins, answered the door. ''Good evening, Mr. Jones'', he spoke, in his thick British accent as he opened the door. ''Please, step inside''.
No sooner had he stepped inside the entry hall, when Elizabeth Blake approached him. ''Good evening, Frederick'', she said. ''My, you certainly look handsome this evening''.
Fred cringed at the mention of his full name. For as long as he had known Daphne, her mother had never ceased to call him Frederick. It sounds so much more sophisticated, she always insisted, but Fred could just never get used to it.
Elizabeth Blake called to her daughter from downstairs in the hallway. ''Daphne, Frederick's here''.
Beaming with pride, Daphne reached for her hairbrush and ran it through her tresses one last time. She wanted to look her best for her first formal occasion with Fred as her date. A few moments later, Daphne emerged from her room and stood at the top of the stairs. She wore an ankle length, lavender evening dress, accented with a small, diamond necklace. Her long red hair, that she had so carefully groomed, cascaded onto her shoulders. From atop the second floor landing, she glanced briefly at Fred, who waited in the entry hall at the base of the stairs. The blond man s eyes widened as he looked at Daphne. In all the years that he had known her, he had never seen her looking so elegant, so radiant, so beautiful.
Slowly and gracefully, Daphne descended the steps one by one, pausing about five steps from the bottom. As if drawn by her beauty, Fred walked slowly toward her, extending his hand in a gentlemanly fashion. Her outstretched hand met his, and she walked the rest of the way down the stairs towards him, until she stood by his side, like Cinderella next to Prince Charming.
Elizabeth and George watched proudly as Fred escorted their daughter into the garden. ''She looks so grown up'', Elizabeth whispered to her husband.
George Blake nodded in agreement. ''Yes, and Frederick has grown into quite a respectable gentleman''. Daphne's parents looked at each other in silent concurrence. They both hoped that one day, Fred would formally ask them to become a part of their family.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The garden behind the mansion had been transformed into a formal, yet festive venue. Tea lights, strung from the trees and the balcony of the house added to the illumination already given by the moon. A five-piece band played in the background, as the well-heeled guests conversed amongst each other, pausing occasionally to sip their champagne or to nibble on the hors d oeuvres offered by the caterers.
Moments later, a well-heeled, middle aged woman approached the young couple, with Mrs. Blake in tow. Elizabeth Blake sidled up to her daughter ''Delia,'' she began. ''you remember my daughter, Daphne, don t you?''
Daphne smiled, politely, though her smile hid her contempt for the vacuous comments that she heard year after year. ''Here we go again'', she thought to herself in disgust. No sooner had she finished the thought, when the lady commented,'' Oh, but of course I remember her. My goodness, you have grown into quite a nice young lady, and you are looking more and more like your mother''.
Delia switched her gaze to Fred, and the blond man could tell from her mannerisms that she was assessing him. ''And who is this handsome gentleman with you, may I ask?''
Daphne politely introduced Fred.
''Pleased to meet you,'' Fred replied, shaking the woman's hand.
Delia Getty looked at Daphne with a matronly smile. ''You hold onto him, dear,'' she advised in a whisper. ''He's quite a find.''
Daphne smiled politely in agreement, then turned to Fred, gently tugging his arm to signify ''let's get out of here''.
Fred escorted Daphne to the drink table where a tuxedo-ed servant poured a glass of punch. Fred handed the glass to Daphne, then accepted one for himself. He paused and surveyed the guests, concluding that he was very much out of place in this crowd. Glancing at Daphne, he noted that the red head looked equally out of place, even though she was the daughter of the most successful venture capitalist in the county. Taking Daphne aside, he discreetly asked her, ''You know any of these people?''
Daphne shook her head. ''Not really. They're mostly business associates of my father's, and a few friends from my mother's social clubs'''.
The blond man pondered her comment. ''Daphne'', he asked. ''is this really the type of life that you want for yourself..'' He paused briefly, then continued. ''Or for your children?''
The red head shrugged. ''I've never really thought about it before. It s not as if I really have a choice. I was born into this life of fancy parties and high society; I've just accepted it''.
Fred disagreed. ''Well, you didn't seem to accept it when Mrs. Getty was talking with you. In fact, you looked rather nervous and somewhat uncomfortable''.
Daphne considered Fred's comment with a sigh. ''It's just, that this has been my entire life: fancy balls and socialite parties. Maybe for you, it s different, but after awhile, this lifestyle just gets a bit boring''.
Fred shrugged. He wanted to alleviate the red head s discomfort, but was powerless to do anything. And after the assessment given by Delia Getty, Fred knew that anything he did in the presence of Daphne or any of the guests would be highly scrutinized. So much for the prospect of no interference, he thought to himself, dejectedly.
No sooner had he finished the thought, when his rational side reacted. Come on, Fred. Think. An idea suddenly came to mind. ''Daphne..'' he began. ''do you think anyone would notice if we just left?''
''Yes!'' Daphne objected. ''My parents would!''
The blond man tried a different approach. ''No, uh, I didn't mean it that way. What I meant was, maybe we can go someplace quieter, and talk away from all of these people''.
Daphne was still skeptical.
"We could be alone,'' Fred continued. ''And you wouldn't have to put up with those inane comments''.
Daphne pondered Fred s suggestion, then smiled in agreement. She knew the perfect place to go. ''Come with me for a moment'', she spoke. ''There s someplace that I really want to show you''.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Daphne escorted Fred down a shaded path to an area deep within the estate s grounds; she stopped in front of a large, ivy-covered door. Without the tea lights, there was only the moon to illuminate the pathway; and without the sounds of the party, only the sound of the chirping crickets disrupted the solitude.
The door was barely visible beneath all the ivy, and Fred concluded that it probably hadn't been opened in years. Daphne fiddled with the rusty doorknob, leaning against the vine-covered door. It gave under her weight, creaking as it opened, revealing a world that the red head hadn't seen in years.
The garden probably hadn't seen a hedge clipper or a gardener in years. The ivy and vines had long since overgrown their supporting lattice, and most were bare and dead. But in spite of the garden s unkempt appearance, Fred could see that it had once been a beautiful place. Daphne looked around the area and sighed, wistfully. ''I called this place my secret garden'', she explained to Fred. ''I used to come here all the time when I was little, whenever I wanted to be alone''.
Daphne pointed to a small, marble bench in a corner; the edges were worn off and the bench itself was mossy from years of disuse. ''When I was a little girl, I used to think that there was something magical about this place. I used to sit in that corner and dream that I was a princess in some fairy tale, and that one day, a handsome prince would come here and find me and take me off to his castle and we d get married and live happily ever after''. Daphne twirled and danced as she spoke, caught up in her nostalgic fantasy. She stopped only when she remembered that Fred was watching her. Coming back to her senses, Daphne lowered her head in embarrassment. ''Forgive me, Fred..'' she intoned, sheepishly.
Just a silly childhood digression there.
Fred only smiled in response.
Quickly changing the subject, the red head gestured towards the moss-covered bench. ''Sit down, Fred'', she said.
Obligingly, he sat, draping his arm over her shoulder. Daphne leaned her head against Fred s shoulder, and closed her eyes. For a moment, her childhood fantasy returned, only this time, it was for real; she was the princess, and Fred was her Prince Charming. She sighed, romantically and nuzzled her head against Fred s neck.
The same reaction came from Fred, although his sigh was more out of satisfaction that romance. It had finally happened. For years, he had dreamt of nothing else. For years, he had longed to tell Daphne how he really felt about her; but he never dared to say it-especially in front of the others-for fear of embarrassing Daphne or discrediting his reputation as the steadfast, stoic leader. But, tonight, there he sat, with Daphne nuzzled beside him. He felt her red hair gently brushing against his neck, and smiled at the sensation. He knew it was real.
A voice spoke to him from inside his conscience. It is time.
''Daphne'', Fred began. ''there is something that I have always wanted to tell you..''
''What is it, Freddie?'' she replied dreamily,
Caught off guard by her response, Fred swallowed hard. The nervousness showed on his face, and he felt it inside him, but he wasn't about to lose the opportunity that he had at this moment. He loosened his necktie as a distraction, then took a deep breath and started again. ''I don t really quite know how to say this, but...'' He paused, as he heard the voice from his subconscious speak again. No. Not like that. Try again.
''What I meant to say was I've always wanted to tell you you know about you and me, but, there's never been a really good time, er, way to tell you..''
Daphne looked at him and smiled. ''I know what you are trying to say, Fred, she spoke, softly. And you don t even have to say it, because I know'''.
Fred stuttered. ''Y-you do?''
Daphne nodded. ''I've known this since I was sixteen years old, but I didn't want to tell you is because I was afraid that it would jeopardize our friendship with Velma and Shaggy''.
A huge wave of relief surged over Fred, as he embraced Daphne in a celebratory hug. All the years of passion, all the hidden feelings that were built up inside of both of them were finally released as their lips touched in a passionate kiss.
The sounds of the band drifted on a light breeze towards the hidden garden, and Daphne was suddenly roused from her fantasy. We really should be getting back, Daphne said, a tinge of sadness detectable in her voice. My parents will wonder what happened to us.
Stepping out of the garden, Daphne closed the door behind her. ''I guess this place still has a touch of magic left in it after all'', commented Fred.
Daphne smiled in agreement.
It was nearly midnight when the festivities ended. The guests had left and the lights had been dimmed. Fred and Daphne stood in the solitude of the garden together, holding hands. Each was hesitant to let the other go.
The blond man glanced at his watch; it was a quarter past midnight. ''I really should be going, he began''. You and your family have a lot of work ahead of you for tomorrow'', he said, gesturing to the vestiges that littered the garden.
Daphne hesitated; she didn't want the evening to end.
Fred understood her sorrow, because he felt it too. ''It's not as if this is the end, he commented.
Daphne smiled at her date and replied, ''No, it is only the beginning''. Her lips touched Fred's, as they shared one last kiss on the doorstep that evening. ''Good night, Fred'', she whispered, as she ended the kiss.
Fred smiled. ''Good night, Daph'', he whispered, as he watched her enter the house and close the door behind her. ''Sleep well'', he added, under his breath, before turning to return home.
Climbing into bed that night, Daphne thought about the evening s events. She couldn't have imagined a more perfect ending to such an already perfect day. . ''I guess some dreams really do come true'', she thought to herself, as she turned off the light and drifted off to sleep, dreaming about her Prince Charming.
What do you think about it? Please R&R!