Chapter 8-

Velma was running out of blood. She was sure she'd been doing everything right as she tested the blood sample for solid evidence, but somehow her results weren't making any sense. In one last test, she carefully smeared her remaining few drops on a glass slide and slid it under a microscope. As she peered down into the eyepiece here suspicious were confirmed. Instead of red blood cells on the slide, she saw clear white granules, which meant this was—

"Corn syrup and food dye." Velma mused aloud, "oldest trick in the book."

Relived—if not a little irritated—that the blood had been fake, Velma scrawled something on her notepad and checked the clock. If was almost time to meet Shaggy and Marcy in the forest. She got up and looked determinedly at herself in the mirror. Today was the day, they were going to end this.

—

Shaggy and Velma watched in awe as Marcy built what was perhaps the simplest trap they had ever seen. Yes somehow it was also the most complex. In a matter of minutes, she had managed to suspend a picnic blanket over a large hole. (That she had also somehow dug in that time) She'd explained that the blanket would hold Velma's weight but no more than that. The plan was to stage a fake date within view of the Fleach business, provoke him into attacking, and then boom! Trap him in a pit.

It would be easy.

As Velma sat down gingerly on the blanket, Marcy sprawled out beside her, on a second, much less precarious blanket. The two sat there waiting silently, Velma drummed her fingers against her leg and Marcy clicked her tongue idly. They waited boredly for something to happen. Maybe about fifteen minutes of this roll by until Shaggy peers out from his hiding place behind the tree.

"Like, have you guys ever done this before?"

"Done what before?" Velma asked, increasingly nervous about her spot above a pit.

"Oh y'know, like, been used as the bait for a trap despite being terrified for your lives?"

Marcy shot Velma a confused glance, "no—"

"Like, I can tell!" Shaggy burst, seeming to take on their persona of an overly zealous movie director, "Velma, you're body language is all wrong, Marcy, sit up, the monster needs to be able to see your face, and neither of you have any good bait-banter!"

"Bait banter?"

"Yeah! It's like, the stuff you say to make the monster mad, like, Oh I sure hope no sea creatures come to steal this sandwich or, Man, I sure am about to do this thing that'll make a ghost mad at me!"

Marcy shot shaggy a sideways glance, "what exactly makes you qualify to—"

Velma placed a hand on Marcy's shoulder, "trust me, he's qualified."

Shaggy hid behind the tree once more, "like, do, you understand your notes? Good! Like, action!"

Velma giggled shyly, this was ridiculous, she new that, but oh well it was for the mystery. So she went along, "Gee Marcy," She said just a little too loud to be normal, "I sure hope nobody sees us out here on a date."

Marcy blushed, perhaps a bit of embarrassment about how silly this all seemed, "Yeah Velma, This picnic is so lovely, it would be a shame if some creature ruined it."

The two went on, speaking with increasing volume as they tried to taunt the werewolf. In his hiding place behind the tree, Shaggy was begging to get an uncomfortable, but not unfamiliar feeling that he was being watched.

As their "bait banter" continued to fail them, Marcy and Velma devolved from trying to provoke the monster to simply flirting with each other.

"Oh no, there's my stunning girlfriend" Velma smirked, "sure hope no werewolves come along and take her away."

Marcy smiled, "Hey look, it's Velma with her adorable smile, I sure do hope I can just stay with her forever."

The two girls giggled. Had Shaggy been paying attention he probably would have told them to stop being so in love and attract the werewolf. But he wasn't paying attention. he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

After about an hour Marcy and Velma had given up on any false pretenses. Marcy was running a finger through Velma's hair and their hands were clasped together tightly.

"Hey," Velma whispered over to Marcy.

"Hey," Mary replied dreamily

"Y'know what i think the werewolf would really hate?"

"What?"

Velma leaned over and locked lips with Marcy, who immediately started to kiss her back, almost relieved to feel Velma so close to her.

Shaggy was desperately scanning the foliage to the trees, searching for any clues of an unwanted observer, werewolf or otherwise. His eyes briefly darted back to a Marcy and a Velma, who were lip locked together.

Shaggy nodded, proud of them for taking his advice to heart. There was nothing Mr. Fleach would hate more than the vista in front of him.

Suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes behind where Velma and Marcy were sitting. The bait banter had worked. Maybe too well, as the rustling got louder neither Velma nor Marcy looked up. Shaggy bit his lip nervously. They'll see it when it roars Shaggy reasoned, They always roar before they attack.

But this one didn't roar, cause this one wasn't a monster. Shaggy felt like dying inside when the figure that came into view was none other than Daphne Blake. Daphne looked down at the couple before her, at first noticing nothing out of the ordinary, until she realized.

"Wait a minute!" Daphne gasped, "Velma?!"

Finally, Velma snapped out of her Marcy-induced trance, and looked up at Daphne like a deer in headlights. Daphne looked from Marcy to Velma, her face cycling through a range of emotions. First confusion, then realization, then panic, and worst of all to Velma, she settled on a face of mild disgust.

With alarm bells blaring in her mind, Velma held her hands up defensively, "look Daphne I can explain all of this."

"Save it." Daphne sneered, hurriedly turning away from Velma as if she were afraid she were contagious. But in one smooth turn of the heel, Daphnes shoe was caught on the corner of the trap-blanket Velma was perched on.

As if seeing it in slow motion, Shaggy leaped from his hidden spot and lunged, trying to catch either Velma or Daphne as both of them tumbled down into the pit. He missed them though, and both girls hit ground with an unpleasant thud!

Shaggy rushed over to Marcy, who was peering down the hole.

"Are you two ok?" Marcy called down.

"No!" Daphne huffed, "Get me out of here!"

"You're fine Daphne!" Velma chided, "We're fine guys, just see if you can find a rope or something to pull us out of here."

"Like, we're on it!" Shaggy nodded assertively, before marching away with Marcy in tow.

And just like that, Velma and Daphne were alone. And Daphne wouldn't stop looking at Velma like she was some bizarre museum exhibit. Velma took of her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Do you have something to say Daphne?" Velma groaned, silently pleading with shaggy to just hurry up and find that ladder already.

"So," Daphne started, with an overly chipper smile plastered across her face, "You're a lesbian now huh? That's... nice."

Velma, emotionally exhausted and with no bandwidth for bullshit, scoffed, "I was always a lesbian Daphne, you just didn't know it before."

"Really?! Gosh... you don't look like one at all?"

Velma massaged her forehead, feeling a headache coming on, "Daphne... how exactly does one look like a lesbian?"

Daphne just giggled at that, "oh c'mon Velma, you can't tell me you don't know what a lesbian looks like."

Fed up with beating around the bush, Velma just went straight to the point, "is this going to be a problem?"

"Oh gosh of course not!" Daphnia looked almost hurt at Velma's suggestion, "I like gay people just as much as I like normal people!"

Velma looked in to Daphne's face, unsure if she's being serious. Velma sits down softly on the earthen floor of the pit, and looked up at Daphne with a mix of annoyance and hope.

"Sit down Daphne," Velma commanded with little emotion, "we need to talk."