How Few Remain

by Lein

A reunion for Mystery Inc could prove to be their last

2. Chapter 2

TWO DAYS LATER…

The weather was bad, and getting worse with every passing hour.  Shaggy had to travel further out of Nepal, to take a plane out of the country.  Even here, the skies were darkened on the horizon.  No rumbling of a storm, just dark clouds that looked nasty with every hour that grinded by.

Still, Shaggy couldn't help but wonder, what was happening?  What was going to happen?  Were VanGhoul and Flim-Flam all right?  And who the hell was the guy with the glowing eyes?

Questions, questions, and more questions.  It seemed every time he went looking for answers, he found a dump truck load of even more mind-boggling questions.

He patted his left jacket pocket, and sure enough, it as still there.  The flight attendant looked over his ticket, and pointed out his seat.  He lifted his bag up above his head, as he shuffled down the isle, looking out for children, young adults, and all manners of luggage that clogged the isle of the plane.

Finally, reaching his seat, he stored his travel bag in the overhead compartment, and sat down.  All around him, people were shuffling this way and that, calling out to relatives in all different types of languages.

He glanced out his window, at the bustling airport around him, then, his eyes drifted to the darkening skies of the background.  He frowned.  Everything would be explained in time?  When?  And more importantly, was he going to like what he'd find?

All this questioning and theories made his head hurt… and his stomach rumble.  Hmmmm.  He sure was hungry.  He got up, and pulled his travel bag down from the overhead compartment, and unzipped it.  He reached inside, and pulled out a long cylinder object, wrapped up in tinfoil.

Unwrapping it, revealed the foot long sub underneath, packed with ham, lettuce, cheese, onions, tomato, pickles, ketchup, mayonnaise, and at lest twelve different spices.  VanGhoul was right about one thing.  Some things never change.  

The sudden sound of the ding from overhead told Shaggy that the captain was going to make an announcement.

"Attention all passengers," the captain said, "Due to the sudden weather encroachment on the airport, we will be making a premature lift off.  I have to ask that everybody please switch off all electronic devices and place your tray tables and seats in the upright position."

There were a few murmurs, but bit-by-bit, everyone began to comply with the captain's demands.  Within fifteen minutes, they were all prepared to lift off.

Shaggy couldn't help to glance out of the window, as the plane taxied down the runway, gained speed, and then lifted of the ground, soaring into the air.

As the plane lifted of the ground, he gave a sidelong look at the storm gathering on the horizon.  For a split second, he saw he could've seen the image of a face, glaring angrily back at him.  The eyes flashed, and Shaggy jumped in his seat. 

He blinked, and saw lighting flashing in the distance.

He leaned back into his seat as the plane climbed higher still.  He sighed softly, and covered his face with his hands.

"I've gotta lay of those mid-night snacks," he muttered, re-wrapping his sandwich.  He placed the sandwich back into his bag, and then looked back out the window.

Nothing.

He snorted at that, and smiled, as he leaned back, turned on the lamp above his head, pulled out a paperback novel, and tried to enjoy the flight home.

***

Shaggy sat in the back of the Mystery Machine, cooking hamburgers over an electric stove.

"Like, pass the buns, Scoob!"  He said, scooping a patty of the griller, "This one's ready for inspection!"

"Rokay!"  Scooby said, as he scooped up two buns, and grabbed a squeeze tube of Ketchup with his right foot.  Shaggy then lifted the patty of the grill with the spatular, and plopped it onto the bottom bun, which Scooby then squirted with Ketchup.

He then placed the top bun on the top, and ate the whole thing in one gulp.

"Well?"  Shaggy asked.

Scooby shook his mouth from side to side, like a wine taster, and then belched loudly.

"Refect!"  He said, and then chuckled. "Reh, he heh he heh!"

"Then like, pass some more this way, Scoob!"  Shaggy said, scooping up some more patties, "These burgers aren't gonna eat themselves!" 

"Rincoming!"  Scooby said, as he tossed some buns Shaggy's way.  Shaggy snatched them out of the air, and quickly made his own burger. 

"Like, where's Scrappy, man?"  Shaggy asked, looking around into the front of the van.

"Right here!"  Scrappy cried out, jumping up from the front seat and into the back.

"Lunch is ready," Shaggy said, squirting some ketchup onto Scrappy's burger, and handing it to him.

"About time too!"  Scrappy said, as he snatched the burger, and began to scarf it down.  Shaggy made his own burgers, then began to eat along with the others.

"These are great burgers Shaggy," Scrappy said, as he finished of his second.

"Reah," Scooby said, gulping down another.  "Rantastic!" 

"It's like what I do," Shaggy said, making himself another.  "Food's my life."

"Then how come you never started your own restaurant, Shaggy?" Scrappy asked.

"I guess me and Scoob would eat all the food," then he and Scooby began laughing.

Just then, there was a knock at the back van door.  "Ri'll ret it!"  Scooby said, opening the door.  There was a postman, standing there.

"Excuse me," he said, "Is this where I might find Norville Rodgers?"

"Like, that's me, man!"  Shaggy said.

"Letter!"  The man handed him the letter, and left.  Shaggy shrugged, and opened it.  All that was inside was a single white sheet of paper, with the very large 'WARNING,' sign written on it in bright red.

"Hey," Shaggy said, narrowing his eyes, "Like, what gives?"

"What dose it say?"  Scrappy asked.

"It just says, warning!"  Shaggy said.

"Then you should probably listen to it," Scrappy said.

"Huh," Shaggy said, "Why…?"  He glanced down, to find that Scrappy was no longer there.  "Hey, where did Scrappy…?"  He looked up, to find that Scooby was gone as well.  "Like, what's going on!?!"

"Be careful Shaggy," he spun around to see Scrappy in the front seat, along with Scooby.  "We can't be here for you this time.  You're going to have to handle this one on your own."

Then, he realised he was standing outside the Mystery Machine, in the street.  It was dark, and no body was around.

"Where are you guys going?"  Shaggy cried out, gripping the driver's side window.

"Re Ran't Ray!"  Scooby said, and then waved his front paw at Shaggy, as he started up the engine.  "Ry, ry!"

"WAIT!"  Shaggy called out.

"Be aware, Shaggy," Scrappy said, leaning over to look out the window at Shaggy, "Things aren't what they seem.  We can't help you, but there are others who can."

Then, the Mystery Machine suddenly took off in a cloud of dust, leaving Shaggy standing all on his own.

"NO!"  Shaggy screamed out, "Don't leave me!  Not again!"  He started running of after the van.  "Please, don't go!"  He suddenly got a cramp, and had to stop running.  He doubled over, puffing loudly.  "Please," he weakly cried out, as the van disappeared over the horizon, "don't leave me all alone!"

Suddenly, he was aware of something.  He straightened up, and looked over his shoulder.

There, standing by a streetlight, was a darkened figure in a trench coat.  His features were shrouded in dark, and smoke occasionally rose from his face as he breathed in and out.  Shaggy narrowed his eyes, and looked over at the man.

"H-hello?"  He called out.

There was no answer.

"C-can I help you?"  Shaggy asked.  He took a step towards the figure, and red eyes flashed.  He stoped in his tracks, and did a double take.  "Whoa!"  He muttered.  He then turned around, to leave, but the moment he did, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

He spun around and came face to face with some man he'd never seen before.  How did he move so fast?  The man had dark black shades, and stared blankly back at him with no expression.

"What do you want?"  Shaggy demanded.  The man said nothing, and then slowly, began to speak.

"You have something I want!"  The man said, "Give it to me!"  Shaggy remained silent.  The man gave a small glimpse of his teeth.  "Don't play games with me boy!  You have no idea who I am, and what I can do!"  He then held out his hand.  "Now, hand it over!"

"L-leave me alone!"  Shaggy said, taking a few steps backward.

"You're only making it harder on your self, Shaggy," the man said.  "Just surrender now."

"I'll… hey, wait a minute, how did you know my name?"

"I know more about you than you'll ever know, Rodgers," the man said, taking a step towards Shaggy, "Now, about that item that I want!"

"Leave me alone," Shaggy said, turning around…

…and bumped right into the man, stumbling backwards, Shaggy cried out in alarm.

"You can't run, Shaggy," He said, slightly agitated.  "I can find you anywhere on this planet."  He then shot out his arm with his fingers spread out.  "And now…!"  He snarled through his teeth.

"Drop dead!"  Shaggy said.

"You first!"  He then snapped his fingers, and the ground suddenly gave way.  Shaggy screamed out, as he fell head over heals, down towards a rocky floor of stalagmites.

"NO!!!"  He screamed out as he leapt forward.  He then realised he was stairing at the seat in front of him.  He was suddenly back on the plane.  He looked around.  People were giving him strange looks.

"Ummm, is there a problem, sir?"  A stewardess asked.  Shaggy took a minute to bring his breathing down to a normal level.  

"N-no," he finally said, "no, there's no problem.  Just a bad dream, that's all."

"Okay," the lady said, and moved away, keeping an eye on him as she did so.  The rest of the plane gradually went back to what they were doing, until Shaggy was no longer the focus of their attention. 

He sighed heavily, and mopped his brow with his hand.  His face was covered in sweat.

"Wow," he murmured.  "That was some nightmare."  He froze, and patted his coat pocket.  He sighed happily to find the book still there.  He pulled it out, and looked at it.  Its single word title stared back at him.

'Life.'

He tried the buckle, but could not get it unlocked.  Man, what he wouldn't give to know what was inside that book.  He looked around again, and then placed it back inside his coat pocket.

THE NEXT DAY…

It was late in the afternoon, when Shaggy finally got home.

"Keep the change, pal," Shaggy said to the cab driver.

"Thanks old timer," the cabby said, "Say, you don't need a hand with your suit cases?"

"No," Shaggy said, "I'll be fine."

"Okay," the cabby said, "Take care of your self!"

"I will," Shaggy said, "Thank you for your concern."

Cabby gave a wave, and then took off.  Shaggy picked up his shoulder bag, and his travel case, and pushing open his front gate, walked up his path, towards the front porch.  He dropped his case, and stretched his back. 

"Ohhh, I've really gotta give this up," he moaned, then pulled out his keys, unlocked the door, and walked inside.

He manoeuvred inside, and dropped his bags in the living room.  He glanced over at the clock, above the TV.  5:26.

If he managed to stay awake long enough, he might be able to catch the end of the 5 o'clock news.  Find out what'd been happening since he was gone.  Hmph, while he'd been gone.  He'd been gone for less than a week.

He slumped down into a large comfy reclining chair.  He leaned back, kicking up its footrest, and picking up the remote, turned on the TV.

".... Ended up with only five points, while the Everett team managed to score a maximum of twelve points, thus winning the match.  Quite a game, Huh Lola?"

"Thanks, Bill.  I'm surprised anyone can even think of sports in this weather.  Right Dave?"

"Right Lola.  At Seattle's magnificent Space needle, it's ninety-seven --- with no relief in sight."

"Thanks Dave.  This heat wave has sparked many acts of civil violence here in Seattle.  Late last night, an elderly couple were brutally beaten and left to die in the street outside their apartment, for what could only be described as a robbery of twelve dollars.  Only the quick thinking of a passer by saved their lives."

Shaggy made a face.

"In other news today, the bizarre weather patterns that have been effecting the lower regions of China, Tibet, and Nepal, have suddenly dissipated, as quickly as they formed, leaving scientists and weather annalists without a clue.  Much of the storms seemed to have stayed in tact, although they seem to be blowing out across the northern area's of Indo-china."

"Well, that's all we have time for tonight.  Join us tomorrow at nine o'clock for the news.  Here's a preview of tomorrow's top stories, so until then, I'm Lola Bates, and Goodnight."

"And goodbye!"  Shaggy grumbled, as he changed the channel.  The next channel was a soap opera, and the one after that was a different soap opera, and then the one after that was an ad, and finally, CNN.  Shaggy gave up, and just dropped the remote, and got up to get something to eat. 

As he walked into the kitchen, Shaggy patted his coat pocket, felling the book there.  He sighed, as he sat back down in the chair.

Some adventure this turned out to be.  He threw up his hands, and let them fall back onto the table.  He got up, and walked over to the fridge.  He got out some frozen pizza, and put on a coffee.  He put the pizza in the microwave and sat back down at the table.

He couldn't help but glance over at the two empty seats ether side of him.  He sighed, and closed his eyes.  When he opened them again, they were still empty.  "So much for wishful thinking," Shaggy muttered, getting up as the kettle began to whistle.

He got up, and poured the kettle into the plunger, then plunged it, and poured out his coffee.  "Man," he said with a chuckle, "if I keep drinking this, I'll never go to sleep.  He then lifted the cup to his lips, and sipped.

As he looked at the window in front of him, he saw a figure standing outside, just by his front gate, looking into his house.  For some strange reason, he looked awfully familiar.  He narrowed his eyes, and gasped.

It was the guy from his dream.

Shaggy suddenly drank some coffee down his windpipe, and he began a coughing fit.  Coffee plastered it's self against the window, and he dropped the cup into the sink.  He grabbed a glass, and quickly filled it up with tap water, drinking it down, trying to calm his coughing.  

When he finally stopped, he looked back out the window.

There was no one there.

He looked from the coffee pot, to the window, and back again.  "That's it," he said, picking up the pot, and pouring the remaining contense down the sink, "I'm switching to De-Café." 

As he poured, he couldn't help but glance up, back out the window.  There was nobody by his gate.  He scoffed to himself, as he picked up a washcloth, and began to clean the window.

He looked out the window at the sky.  A brilliant orange and red canvas covered the sky, sinking into the distance, towards the Pacific Ocean.

He smiled, and then dumping the washcloth into the sink, walked over to the microwave oven as it dinged, and opened it.  The steaming hot smell of the pizza, and pepperoni, and sausage, and cheese.  He 'Mmmmed,' his approval, then set about cutting it up.

He took a slice of pizza to the table, and sat down.  His eyes once more floated to the empty chairs.  He rested his head in one hand, and tapped on the plate with the other.  He should really get rid of those.  He'd never had any company in his house since Scrappy was gone.

He wasn't hungry anymore.  Giving a frustrated grunt, he pushed his chair away, and grabbing his suitcase, hauled it up the steps, to his bedroom. 

With a mighty heave, he threw the case up onto the bed, and rubbed his back.  He wasn't as young as he used to be.  He subconsciously glanced over at his dresser top, where all the cards from his fiftieth birthday lay.  He stared at them for a few moments, before bending over, and unclipping the case.

He set about unpacking all the clothes, deciding which ones, could go into the wash, and which ones could go back into the cupboard.  As he worked, he finally uncovered the photo he'd packed.  The one of the original gang.  Mystery Inc.

He smiled, and placed it down on the bedside table, where it always sat, and took a moment to admire it.  It was then, that his eyes floated over to the phone, right next to it.  The smile vanished.  He took a deep breath, and licked his lips. 

His vision switched from between the photo, and the phone.

Suddenly, he realised, how?  He'd lost contact with everyone.  He'd been in such a depression, ever since Scrappy left him, that he'd forgotten all about his friends.  He didn't know where they lived.

Daphne Blake he knew, lived in Los Angles, somewhere.  He'd seen her in a few TV shows, and the occasional movie, but that was years ago, now, as she grew older, he'd seen less and less of her.  He'd seen her in the occasional commercial, and cameo appearance in a TV show, but didn't bother to get in touch. 

Fred Jones?  Where to begin.  God only knew where he was. Fred left the group back in '73.  That's when the original gang split up.  He'd been offered a university Football scholarship, but deferred it, so he could continue roaming with the group.  Finally, he couldn't defer it any longer, and had to take it.  Daphne, as far as he knew, never forgave Fred for leaving her.  In fact, no body had even bothered to kept in touch with Fred.  The last, anybody had ever heard of Fred, was that he was playing in St. Louise, and that was back in '74.

Velma Dinkley had taken a job with NASA last he'd heard.  She'd run her fathers bookshop to pay for collage courses, then she'd written to Shaggy about the good news, that's when Scooby was still with him.  After Scooby was gone, well, he pretty much never kept in contact with her.

He'd never realised until now, how far everyone had drifted apart.  He wasn't even sure he could find them again. 

He took a deep breath, and straightened up. 

He had to find them.  After all, he did belong to Mystery Inc.  They were the best detective solving business of the 70's.  If he used his brain, he could find them, if he tried.  He'd have to crack open a few memories, open a few files, and call in heaps of favours.

But he could do it!

THE NEXT MORNING…

Shaggy sat at the kitchen table, chewing on a biro, and sorting through some old boxes, when the phone rang.  He spat the biro from his mouth, and picked up the phone.

"Hello!  Norville Rodgers speaking?"

"Rodgers?  It's me!"  He recognised the voice.

"Hey, Sam," he replied, putting down the box, "Do you have some good news for me?"

"Sure do," he said.  There was a moment's pause, as what sounded like paper ruffling could be heard, and then Sam returned.  You were right, Fred Jones did go to Chicago University on a Football scholarship.  He graduated in '76 with a degree in mechanics."

"That's great and all," Shaggy said, "But it doesn't tell me where he lives."

"I'm getting to that part," Sam said.  "As you know, my brother is on the University bord, and he knows a few people too, and I found out from them, and through him, that your old buddy now lives Sheridan, Wyoming."

"Wyoming?"  Shaggy asked.

"Yeah," Sam said, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a box, Sam," Shaggy said.  "It's like someone just drew a square and said, 'I know, let's make it a state,' it shouldn't even exist."

"Leave Wyoming alone, man," Sam said, "and on the other topic, Fred owns a garage repair shop there.  I've got his phone number as well."  Shaggy grabbed a pad of paper, and picked up the biro.  Shaking it a bit to get rid of some saliva, he then nodded, and wrote down the number.  Then, wrote down the number of Fred's Business.

"Okay, thanks Sam," he said.  "You've been real great!"

"Just trying to help," Sam said.  "See ya, Rodgers."

"See ya, Sam."  Then he hung up.  He then pointed with the biro at the group photo of the gang, or rather, at Fred.  "Got'cha!"  He said.  He then wrote Fred's name next to the number, and then, putting it aside, began to rummage through the box once more.

Wyoming.  Well, at least he was close. 

He then picked up the phone again, and started dialling.  Once finished, he leaned back in his chair, and waited.  The ringing of the phone let him know that the phone was still connected.

The phone was picked up, and a child's voice – a girl -- answered.  "Hello?"

"Hi," Shaggy said, "Tell me, have I reached the Jones residents."

"Yes you have," the kid said.

"Dose Fred Jones live there?"

"He's my father."  In the background, Shaggy could here someone calling out.  She then took her voice away from the phone and answered.  She then came back and asked, "Dad wants to know who you are?"

"Tell him, it's Shaggy."

"Who?"

"Just tell him, sweaty," Shaggy said, "He'll understand, trust me."

"You're strange," she told him, then called out to the voice.  This time, he heard the voice in the background clearly, as he shouted out.

"SHAGGY!?!"  Then, came the pounding of footsteps.  "Shaggy?"  A deep males voice asked.  "Dear God in Heaven, is that you, Rodgers?"

"Nice to here from you too, Fred," Shaggy replied.  "How've you been?"

"All things considered, fine," Fred answered.  "How about your self?  Man, it's been decades!"

"I've been surviving," Shaggy replied.  "They retired me a just a few weeks ago."

"Retired?  You mean you actually got a job?"

"Oh, hah ha!"  Shaggy said sarcastically, "Yes I did grow up."

"I'd never have imagined," Fred said with a chuckle, "So, what'd did you end up doing?"

"Chief-Customs Inspector," Shaggy replied.  "Me and Scoob, got jobs in the Customs department.  Scoob made an excellent sniffer dog."

"That, I can imagine," Fred said.

"Now, enough about me," Shaggy said, "What about you?  Sounds like you've done pretty well."

"What do you me --- oh, I take it you're taking about Callie?"

"Callie Jones?"  Shaggy said.  "Is that all?"

"She's the oldest, and there's her younger sister, Elisa Jones."

"So," Shaggy asked.  "Who was the lucky girl?"

"Oh, I meet her after I got out of University.  You wouldn't know her."  There was a moments silence, before Fred asked, "So, have you seen Daphne lately?"

"No," Shaggy confessed, "In fact, you're the only one I could find."

"Hmmm," Fred hummed, as he contemplated the sentence Shaggy had just spoken.  "What about Velma?"

"Nope," Shaggy said.  "You're the only one."

"Bummer," Fred said softly.

"Look," Shaggy said, quickly changing the subject, "The reason for my call is, I was wondering if you'd be able to come up for the weekend, you know, a little get together after such a long time?"

"I'll be there," Fred quickly said, "I'll be on the next bus up there."

"Great," Shaggy said, "Give me a call on the time you'll be arriving, so I can meet you there."

"Will do, Shag," Fred replied.  "I'll let you know soon."

"I'll be looking forward to it, Fred," Shaggy said.  "Bye!"

"Bye."  Then, Fred hung up.  Shaggy placed the phone down, and sighed.  He hated lying to Fred, but he wasn't sure how he'd react to the knowledge that everyone, but most importantly, Daphne would be coming up.  The truth was, he'd found everybody.  Even Velma, and Daphne.

He didn't know how Daphne would react to Fred, and vice versa.

Well, time to call the others.

He picked up the phone, and dialled the next number.  The phone rang a few times, before it was picked up, and a females voice answered.

"Hello, Galen residences."  Shaggy smiled, as he recognised the voice.

"Hello, Velma," Shaggy said.  "It's good to here your voice again."  There was a slight pause.

"Shaggy?"  Velma asked. 

"Sure is, Velma," Shaggy replied, "How have you been?" 

"Shaggy?!?"  Velma said again.  "My God, Norville Rodgers it is you!"

"How have you been, Velma?"  Shaggy asked again with a small grin.

"Huh?  Oh, sorry," she apologised, "It's just that I haven't herd from you in ages."  She gave a small chuckled.  "I've been well, all things considered.  How about yourself?"

"Me?"  Shaggy drummed his fingers on the tabletop.  "Surviving," he repeated.

"So," Velma quickly interrupted, "How's…"  She suddenly trailed off, as she realised what she was about to ask.  "Oh, sorry," Velma said in a quite voice, "They'd be…"  She trailed off again.

"That's okay," Shaggy said with a sigh.  "It's been fifteen years.  I've gotten over it since then."

Velma just ummmed, then quickly asked, "SO, what job did you end up getting?"

"Me?  I ended up in the Seattle International Airport Customs Department."

"The Customs department?" 

"Yeah," Shaggy said with a nod.  "You know, illegal food stuffs…"

"Oh," Velma said, "That seems just about right for you." 

Shaggy chuckled.  "Hey, wise man says, Pick a job that you love, and you'll never work a day in your life."

"So anyway," Velma asked, "Why the sudden need to resurface all of a sudden?"  Shaggy thought fast.

"I was so recently retired."  He replied.  "I was feeling a little lonely now, and decided to see if I could get in contact with the old gang.  I haven't spoken to any of you guys for a long, long time."

"You mean you got in contact with Fred and Daphne?"  Velma asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Man," Velma muttered.  "How's Freed taking Daphne?"  He paused.

"I—I haven't told him that she's coming, yet."  Shaggy confessed.  In fact, he doesn't know you're coming too."

"Shaggy," Velma warned.  "That's inviting a recipe for disaster."

"I know," Shaggy said, "But it was the only way I could get him to come."

"And what about Daphne?"

"I just recently found out her where-abouts, but I haven't called her yet."

"Are you going to pull of the same routine?"

"Yes."  He could here Velma sigh on the other line.

"You do realise what's going to happen when every one gets to your place, don't you?"

"It'll be too late for anyone to do anything about it by then," Shaggy said.

"If you believe that, Shaggy," Velma said, "You don't know women, or Daphne for that matter."

Shaggy paused, and then asked, "Velma, what exactly happened between Fred and Daphne, you know, way back then?"

"She didn't tell you?"  Velma asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.  "Wow, you spent more time with her then I did, and she never told you?"

"She never wanted to talk about it, and every time I went near the subject she quickly changed it.  After a few tries, she made it clear that wasn't something she wanted to discus.  So I stoped asking and the whole question slipped my mind as time passed."

Velma was silent for a few seconds, and then spoke.  "Fred never gave her the time of his departure from the train station that morning."

"What?"  Shaggy interrupted.  "Why?"

"I guess he forgot.  The two of them hadn't really gotten on well during their last night together, and for Daphne, well, she was in tears that day Fred left."

"And that was the last time they ever had any contact with each other."  Shaggy said.

"How was Daphne when you were working for her?"  Velma asked.

"Well, during our first days, she always was eager to read her mail, and when the telephone rang.  Then, after the first few months, she lost that eagerness.  I'd always suspected it had something to do with Fred."  Shaggy paused, realising that Velma hadn't answered his question.  Why Fred never called Daphne.

"So don't know why they never got in contact with each other?"  Finally, Shaggy realised that Velma didn't know ether.

"No," Shaggy said.  "I thought you knew."  He could here Velma start to say something on the other line but she stopped her self.  Shaggy suspected she was going to repeat what he'd just said.

Then, she said, "Well, when or if, they both get to your place, we're going to find out then."  Shaggy nodded, then spent the remainder of the phone call, informing Velma on where and how to get to his place.

Eventually, he hung up the phone, then picked up the last scrap of paper.  Daphne's number.  He took a deep breath. 

*Well, here goes nothing!*

He picked up the phone, and began to dial.  The phone on the other line rang about sixteen times, before it was finally picked up.  "If you aren't somebody I know, you'd better hang up."  The voice sounded very agitated.

"Daphne," Shaggy said slowly, it's me."

There was an irritated grunt.  "I don't know any me's," she said.  Then, the phone was hung up.  Shaggy reared back form the disengaged beeping that came though.  "What!?!"  He cried out.  He growled in frustration, and dialled again.  The phone rang three times, before it was picked up.

"I'm warning you…!"  Daphne started again.

"Daphne," Shaggy quickly interrupted, "it's me, SHAGGY!"  He practically shouted out his Old Nick name.  There was a long pause on the other line.

"Shaggy?"  Daphne sounded shocked.  "Is that really you?"

"Who else would it be," Shaggy said, "Say, who'd you think I was anyway?"

"Oh God," she gave a loud chuckle, "I'm so sorry, Shaggy, I thought you were some drooling stalker."

"I could be if you want." Shaggy said with a smile.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically, "So tell me, Rodgers, why the sudden call?"

"I'm organising a reunion of the old Mystery Inc. Gang," he said.  "I was hoping you'd be able to come."

Daphne was silent.  "Is Fred coming?"  She finally asked.

He took a deep breath.  "No," Shaggy lied, "I couldn't get in contact with him.  I can't find him anywhere."

"Hey," Daphne said in a comforting tone, "Don't be so hard on your self, "I tried to find him for five years, with no success.  The guy's harder to find than Wally.  Besides," she paused again.  "What good would it do to see him again after all this time."

It was Shaggy's turn to be silent for a few seconds.  Was his plan the best after all?  Yes?  No?  It was so difficult.  Why didn't Fred contact Daphne after all these years?

"So," he asked, "Would you be able to come up to see me, and Velma?"

"For you, Shaggy," Daphne said, "Anything.  Where are you?"  Shaggy then spent the rest of his conversation with Daphne explaining everything, where he lived, what he'd been doing, his recent employment problems. 

To no surprise.  Fred was never mentioned in the conversation ever again.  It was still bugging Shaggy as he hung up.  Well, there was no retreat now, he'd organised everything, and Fred and Daphne would be seeing each other again wether they liked it or not.

He unzipped his jacket, and looked in at the inside pocket.  The book was still there.  Wether HE liked it or not, he was going to need some help, and who better to help, than the old Gang.  He shrugged his shoulders.  You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

Shaggy crossed his fingers and prayed.

THREE DAYS LATER…

Shaggy was getting tired of trying to stand on tippee-toes, plus it was hurting his feet.  He wasn't as young as he used to be, and his body was reminding him of this.  As he went and sat down, he couldn't help but wounder, why had VanGhould chosen him?  Surly there were much younger people in the world, who were more than capable of looking after that book.  Why him?  He'd already pasted his half-century, his back was starting to play up, he wore glasses, and he was losing hair.

Running his fingers through the bald spot on the back of his head he couldn't help but chuckle at the hair style he had when he was a teenager, and a young adult.  Man, did he look like a fool.

Just then, a young man walked past who'd shaved of all his hair, except for a long strip down the middle, that was platted, and ended in a pony tail that came down to his shoulder blades.  Shaggy made a face.

Then again…

"Shaggy!"  Shaggy looked up as he saw the 49 year old woman with fading light orange hair and thin reading spectacles rushing towards him, arms open wide. He got up and opened his arms wide, accepting Daphne's hug.  "Oh, Shaggy," Daphne said as they disengaged, "It's been so long since we've last seen each other.  I mean, my God, just look at you!  You're old!"

"Don't remind me," Shaggy muttered, running his fingers through his hair one last time, feeling the cold hard surface of his head.  "We've all grown up, Daphne, I see you've gone through some changes."  He eyed her very short hair.

"Oh, this," she said, brushing at her hair.  "A part I recently played on a stage show required short hair.  You like it?"

"It just doesn't seem like the old Daphne I knew."

"You can speak," Daphne said, giving Shaggy a small shove.  "You don't look a thing like the old Shaggy I knew."  She paused.  "You've even lost the Goatee."

Shaggy just rolled his eyes.  "Come on," he said, "Let's go get your baggage and get out of here."

"Is Velma here yet?"

"She's arriving this afternoon," Shaggy said.  "You're the first to arrive."  Shaggy then bit his lip.  Fred would be arriving some time this evening.  Then, he would see what would happen between them.  They both walked down to the baggage area, and waited, watching as bag after bag came by.

"Well, hello Norville."

The voice from behind him startled both himself, and Daphne.  They turned around, and saw Ellen Yindle standing behind them.

"Hi Ellen," Shaggy replied, "How did you find me?"

"Everyone who works here knows you Norville," Yindle said, "It wasn't long before word of your arrival got to me.  I decided to come down and say hello."

"Oh, Ellen," Shaggy said, turning to face Daphne, "I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Daphne Blake."  Daphne smiled and held out her hand.

"From Mystery Inc?"  Yindle looked surprised.  She then reached out and shock Daphne's hand.  "Wow, what are you doing here?"

"A small reunion," she said, "We haven't seen each other in quite some time.  So, what do you do around here."

"I'm Chief-Customs Inspector of the whole airport," Ellen said.  "I recently took over from Norville when he was retired."

"I chose her for being my replacement," Shaggy said, "She's the best there is; better than me even."

"Norville, please," Yindle replied shrugging, "Even one knows you're the best there ever was."

"The best at Chief-Customs Inspector?"  Daphne was confused. 

"We take our work seriously," Shaggy replied.

"And in this day-and-age," Yindle added, "You need to take something like this seriously."

Daphne shrugged.  "Well, that's what you…  Hey, my bag!"  She reached across in front of two other people, and grabbed her luggage, ripping it of, nearly taking out one of the people beside her.

"Here," Shaggy said, "Let me help you with that."

"I can manage," Daphne, said, "A lots changed since the old days, Shaggy.  I don't need you carrying around my entire luggage anymore."

"Fine," Shaggy said, as Daphne turned around, he looked up at the ceiling, and mouthed the words 'Thank you.'  Yindle chuckled.

"Did I miss something?"  Daphne asked, grabbing her next bag from the conveyer-belt.  Both Ellen and Shaggy just shrugged in response.  She looked at Shaggy, then back at Yindle.  "You two are so much alike, it's freaky."

Both Shaggy and Yindle glanced at each other and gave a nervous chuckle.  "Well, she has been under my wing for a while."

"A while?"  Yindle asked.  "Try six years."

Just then, the over-head speakers crackled to life, and an electronically smothered voice called out, "Ellen Yindle, Please report to the Off-Loading Bay at once.  Ellen Yindle."

"Duty calls," she replied.  She reached out and took Daphne's hand once more.  "Nice to meet you, Ms. Blake."  She turned and gave a small nod to Shaggy.  "Norville."  Then, she was gone.

Daphne watched, as Yindle vanished into the swirling mass of the crowd, then turned to Shaggy.  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she likes you."  Shaggy just gave a small shrug in reply.

"I've never really noticed."  He said.  "I was always kept busy.  I never had enough time for a social life."

"Well, I think you should ask her out," Daphne said, picking up the extendable handles on her suits cases, and pulling them along the ground on their wheels.  "She seems like a nice person, someone you could really get along with."

"I-I can't start something like that," Shaggy said, glancing at the floor, as they walked towards the exit.

"And why the hell not?"  Daphne asked.

"I mean, I'm too old, Daphne," Shaggy said.  "I'm 52 years old.  Next year it's 53.  I can't start up a relationship now."

"That's all the more reason to hurry up then," Daphne said, as they walked through the automatic sliding doors and out onto the pick-up area.  "You've got another 30, possibly 40 years left on your life.  You only have one life.  Make use of what little time you have left, and don't spend your life morning over something you never did."  She narrowed her eyes, and lowered her voice.  "Like I did."  She then brightened up, as she reached the curb, and put down her cases, straightened up, and turning to face Shaggy asked, "So, where's the car?"

"Huh?"  Shaggy was taken back by her sudden mode swing, then regaining his posture, pointed down the road to the parking lot.  "Oh, this way."

***

Putting on the indicator, Shaggy slowed down and turned right, pulling into his driveway.  "This is it," he said, pulling to a stop in front of the garage with the lime green door, "Home sweet home."

Daphne unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car, looking at the house.  It was a two-story, whitewash house, with a side garage on the left, and a small attic on the top with one small round window, showing any signs that it was there.  There was a raised front porch that had an extended roof, where three rocking chairs rested, and a small coffee table.

Daphne just nodded at the three chairs.  She sighed, and looked away, realising just how long it had really been.

"I just wish we could've had one last reunion with the entire gang," Shaggy said, eyeing the other two chairs.  "I actually tried to get in contact with everyone, during Scooby's final days, but I couldn't find anyone.  We'd all been apart for so long, that it was impossible to find you all again in time."  He glanced down at the driveway.  "To see the old gang one last time, I'm sure it would have delighted him.  He could've possibly held on a little while longer."  He bit his lip, as he let out a gust of air.  Then, he turned around, and drummed his hands on the roof of the car.  "But come on," he said, his voice retuning to it's cheerful self, "Let's get you inside."

He took one of Daphne's bags, while she took the other, and they went inside.  Shaggy spent the next ten minutes showing her around, informing her of where everything was, her room, his room, and so on, and so on.

When lunchtime rolled around, they sat down at the kitchen table, and reminisced about old times, shearing stories of what they'd done since they last saw each other.

Eventually, the clock ticked over into the afternoon, and a long awaited knock materialised at the front door.  Shaggy got up, and opened the door to a 47 year old woman with short fading brown hair, thick black rimmed spectacles, and a very casual creamy colored business suit, and a huge grin on her face.

He flung his arms open wide, and shouted, "Velma!"  She shouted out his name, and they both hugged.

"Long time no see, Shaggy," she said, as they disengaged from their hug.  She looked him up and down.  "I see you no longer have that Goatee.  That's an improvement."

Shaggy sighed in frustration.  "Why dose everyone seem to have it out for my Goatee?"

"It looked horrible," Daphne said from behind him.  "Made you look like a hippy."

"Daphne!?!"  Velma cried out happily.

"Velma!"  She cried out, and the two girls hugged each other.  "Oh God, it's good to see you again, girl."

"Well," Velma said, as they straightened up, "It has literally been decades since we've last seen each other.  How have you been?"

"All things considered, I've been fine.  What about your self."

"She's married."  Shaggy interrupted.  Daphne looked shocked.

"Married?  You?  Our Velma Dinkly?"

"Velma Galen," she corrected.  "I actually have a family of my own now.  Two boys, Robert, aged 12 and Jason, aged 10."

"Wow," Daphne said, "So who was the lucky guy?"

"Oh, someone I met at NASA.  He was a man who specialised in Mathematics', Mathew Galen."

Shaggy stole a glance towards Daphne, and saw that for a split second, the bitterness of relationship with Fred showed through.  A nervous shiver ran down his spine.  Before the day would be out, Fred would be here, and he and Daphne would be coming together for the first time in nearly twenty-nine years.

"Something wrong, Shaggy?"  Velma asked.  Shaggy looked over Velma, who had a concerned look on her face.  She knew his plan, and she had doubts about it too.

"Nothing," Shaggy said, "It's just we've been apart for so long, it's great to see us all together again."

"Well, come on," Daphne said, "We've got so much to talk about."  They headed back into the kitchen, laughing and joking like they used to back when they were a group. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Shaggy helped Velma move into her room, then the two girls unpacked, and they all came back down to the kitchen, for an afternoon snack, and they talked some more, talking about adventures they'd had both together, and separately.

They'd been having such a good time, that they failed to notice time slipping away, until a rather loud knock at the door, brought them back to reality.

"Who could that be?"  Shaggy asked, as he started to rise, he suddenly froze, and glanced over at the clock on the wall.  It was 6:15pm.  He gasped.  That could only mean that…

"Shaggy?"  Daphne asked.  "Are you alright?" 

"I think I'd better see to the door," Velma said, getting up quickly.  Shaggy suddenly began to break out in a sweat.  If that was who he thought it was, then things were about to get a whole lot interesting.

The front door was opened, and both Shaggy and Daphne herd a deep males voice cry out Velma's name, and there was some laughter.  Daphne froze on the spot.

"Velma," the voice said again, "I didn't think you'd be here!"

"That voice," Daphne muttered, "I know that voice!"

"SHAGGY?!"  The male's voice called out.  "Where are you!?!" 

"In here!"  Shaggy said, then taking a deep breath, stood up, as Fred Jones entered the kitchen.  He was 49 years old.  His once blond hair was almost white, faded with age.  He had a moustache that was a combination of grey and white.  He wore just a dark blue jacket, with light blue jeans, with a faded red shirt under the jacket.

Daphne's eyes widened, and she shot straight up, the chair she was sitting on was set sliding into the cupboard behind her with a loud 'thwack.'

It echoed, because Fred had become silent, as he saw just who was sitting at Shaggy's table.  The shoulder bag he'd been carrying dropped the floor, and his mouth hung open.

"Oh my God," he whispered.  "D-Daphne?"

Fredrick Jones, although in his late forties, rediscovered a certain amount of youthful agility in his old limbs.  He dodged a cast-iron frying pan, and winced as it smashed the window behind him.  Of to the side, Shaggy, and Velma watched with wide eyes.

"Daphne," Fred said, "Watch what you're doing, this isn't your house!"

"I don't care!"  Daphne shrieked, "All my life waiting, all my life I spent in front of the TV, waiting for the phone to ring!  All my life I waisted!  How dare you leave me hanging like that!!!"

Fred backed against the wall, retreating before the sharp prods of the broomstick in his ribs, his hands raised in surrender.  "B-but I thought you never wanted to see me again," Fred cried.  "That last night we spent together, you were so melancholy, I thought it would rain!"

"Melancholy!?!"  She exclaimed bitterly.  "I had a right to be, you were leaving me, damn it!  Did you expect me to be signing 'Morning has Broken,' you damned pig-headed jock!?!"  She poked him again and moved to swipe him across the head with the broom handle. 

"You never came to see me off," Fred pleaded, as he ducked just in time.  "I even paid the bus driver to wait an extra five minutes, just in case!"

"That's because I didn't realise until the next morning, you never gave me your departure time!"  She raised the broom above her head like a samurai warrior, "And by the time I figured it out, you were already gone!"

"I didn't?"  Fred asked, cowering from the raised broom.  "I thought I did."

"God damn you!"  She shrieked, and brought the broom down on Fred's head so hard, it snapped it in half.

"Arrrggh!"  Fred cried out, as he cradled his head.  "Ow, that smarts," he moaned, as he slinked over to the kitchen table, and sat down.  Daphne was still seething with rage, that she couldn't help but give Fred a kick up the backside, making him tumble from his chair to the tiled floor below.

"Daphne," Velma said, jumping in between Fred and Velma, "Please, calm down."

"I thought this bastered wasn't coming!"  Daphne snarled, turning her anger towards Shaggy.  "What's going on here Rodgers!?!"

"I didn't know how the both of you would react to the other one coming," Shaggy confessed, holding up his hands in defence.  "It was the only way I could get the both of you to come."

"You had no right to lie to me like that," she shouted, "I will not sleep in the same house as him!"  She jab an accusing finger at Fred.

"Daphne, please," Shaggy pleaded.

"Good-bye, Shaggy, Velma, it was nice seeing you all again."  She then marched out of the kitchen towards the stairs leading up to her room.

"Daphne, please," Shaggy said, "Where are you going to stay?"

"I'll find a motel," she said, as she stomped up the stairs, with Shaggy hot on her heals.  "Honestly Shaggy, I can't believe you went and tricked me like that."

"I had to because I wanted you to come," Shaggy said, as they reached the top of the stairs.  "Like I said before it was the only way to get you to come.  Would you have come if I said Fred was coming?"

"No," she said, as she made a right, and headed into her room, and started pulling out all of her clothes.

"I thought you wanted to see the old gang again?"  Shaggy asked, as Daphne grabbed one of her suitcases. 

"But not him," Daphne snarled the word, 'him,' as she began shoving her clothes into the case.  "I thought I made it clear all those years ago that I never wanted to see, here, or even sense him ever again."

"Made it clear?"  Shaggy scoffed.  "The only thing you made clear was that you never wanted to talk about the whole subject ever again!"  Daphne paused.  "You never told anyone what happened between you and Fred.  Not me, not Velma, not Scooby or Scrappy.  I had no idea how you would react, but I had to try."

"Try!  Try what?"  Daphne asked.  "Try and get me angry!  Try and resurface old memories.  Fred hurt me, Shaggy!  How could you go and hurt me!?!  I thought you were my friend?"

"I am!"  Shaggy said.  "It's been twenty-nine years since we've last been together Daphne.  Twenty-nine years.  What about all the adventures we had together as Mystery Inc?  Don't any of those memories mean anything to you?"

"Yes," she said, "But not Fred!"

"Okay, okay," Shaggy said, "So you're still mad at Fred, but please, Daphne, don't leave!  So I beg of you, don't spoil this moment because of what happened between you and Fred.  After forty years we're finally all back together again."

Daphne looked away.   "I can't," She said.  "Not after so long.  I can't."

"If you can't do t for me, or Velma, then…" He took a deep breath, then said, "T-Then do it for Scooby!  Remember that time I told you, that I tried to get everyone together for one last time, for Scooby, but I couldn't find any of you!  He never saw anyone from the old again ever again.  If he were here right now, how do you think he'd be reacting to all of this!?!"

Daphne was silent.

"Look, Daphne," Shaggy said, "I'm not asking you to get back together with Fred again, I'm not asking you to patch things up with him and your self, but I am asking that you be here, for Scooby!  Please, do it for him!"

There was a minutes silence, before Daphne finally nodded.

"Very well, Shaggy," she said, sitting down on the bed.  "For Scooby.  I'll do it for him."

"Thank you, Daphne," Shaggy said, holding out his hand.  "Now come on, we have a lot of catching up to do."

"Do I have to be in the same room as Fred?"

"I'm not asking you, but please, don't let your feelings get in the way of our reunion.  We're all together again.  Let's just leave it at that."

"I just need to freshen up," Daphne said.  "I'll be down later."

"Okay," Shaggy said.  "We'll all be waiting."  Then he closed the door, and headed back down to the kitchen.

***