Nithini noyana Noyana Noyana Noyana phezulu Nithini Noyana, noyana Phezulu Nina ke Nehluka Kuthixo Ngo kona

Translation: What do you say? Are you going? Are you going to get there? Are you going to get there? Are you going up there? What do you say? Are you going? Are you going? Are you going to Heaven? Some of you Are different In the eyes of God Because of your sins

Lebo M.; Noyana (African Chant)

Fred rolled his eyes as he listened to the near-deafening slurps across the table as Shaggy and Scooby vacuumed down their milkshakes. He pursed his lips and thought a moment, wondering if he should mention something of a brain-freeze. Instead, he decided to allow the duo rediscover the consequences on their own.

"Never gonna learn, are you?" Velma interrupted the blond man's thoughts as she eyed the skinny individual.

Brown eyes looked up to meet the dark orbs enshrouded by the tinted lenses.

"Like, what now? First they splatter educational programming all over TV, now I'm supposed to learn something from drinking a milkshake?" Shaggy asked in a mock whine. Velma laughed heartily as the Great Dane took his owner's distraction to his advantage, pressing his muzzle against the brim of the glass and beginning to lick the glass clean.

With a sigh, Fred rose to his feet and wandered aimlessly across the lobby of the malt shop. Mike had been out for a week. Since then, the six had solved a few cases. To avoid the subject of Mike, Fred's mind turned over the week's assignments in his mind.

The zombie at the local cemetery – a drug smuggling ring.

Phantoms roaming the Japanese gardens – underground counterfeit.

The failed experiment looming in the halls of the science lab.

…And a quite obscure case that involved Hershey's Kisses and a hobo dressed as a mummy – poorly guised by a roll of toilet paper.

Fred had yet to figure that one out thoroughly.

His mind kept wandering back to Mike. Question after question flooded his mind: Was that a wise choice? Would he try to harm anyone? What about Daphne?

He stopped himself after the third question. He knew that it was his natural reaction to worry, especially about Daphne. But he was still grasping the concept that he didn't always need to be there to protect her. He didn't want to completely distance himself, but not be smothering. He just couldn't help it.

I just hope everything's alright!

Fred jumped when a hand tapped his back. Upon turning, Fred stared down at –

"Oh! Hey, Velma."

"Fred," Velma grinned, "Daphne and Mike are going to join us in a few."

"Oh, really?" Fred's spirit lightened; his suspicions of the last few moments lightened slightly.

"Yeah. Said they've got something for us."

"Oh! Do you think it could be-"

"Fred, I really don't think that anyone's going to ever find your lost collection of The National Exaggerator magazines." The bespectacled woman's voice was blunt.

"Aw, you couldn't have thrown them all away!" Fred laughed, elbowing the orange-clad woman with a gentle nudge.

"No, we didn't throw them all away."

"What?"

"Yeah, some of them we put through the garbage disposal."

Before the banter could continue, the bells on the doorknob jingled and clanged, announcing a new arrival into the malt shop. The group raised their eyes to acknowledge Daphne and Mike nearing their table. Both had wide grins on their faces.

"Like, I know that look, you guys," Shaggy queried, almost nervously.

"You're up to something," Velma interjected, as she and Fred joined them.

Scooby licked the last traces of the milkshake from his lips, craning his neck to take a few sniffs at the package cradled in Mike's hands.

"Unh?" Scooby's short ears pricked up as he took another sniff. It was quickly put to a stop when Daphne's palm softly tapped his muzzle.

"Scooby, no. Wait till everyone's here," came Daphne's firm instruction.

Realizing his defeat, Scooby merely slumped back in the seat and crossed his forelegs in front of his barreled chest. The scent he knew and had smelled a thousand times, but he was unable to place his paw right on the answer at that moment.

"OK, what are you two hiding?" Fred asked. His eyes met Daphne's; perhaps she was the only one who had picked up the trace of sadness in his voice.

Silently, Daphne drew in a deep breath and let it out. Mike set the large square package in the center of the table; he found it amusing at how everyone's eyes followed the mystery box .

"We wanted to express our thanks," Mike started, "for all we've been through, for all that I have been through with you, and put you through." He paused and took a glance at Daphne, who only smiled in that way that made him melt. He knew he was doing this right as he returned his attention to the group.

"And, here's my token of gratitude." Mike reached over and took a hold of the string. With a simple tug, the knot gave way, as did the sides of the box.

A sweet aroma whooshed up and hit everyone's nostrils in a matter of seconds. Shaggy's and Scooby's eyes widened, tongues lolling from their jowls as they all beheld a two-layer cake.

Daphne, hardly able to resist the pastry in front of her, announced, "Thank you guys. We didn't know exactly what to get that suited everyone – so we had this custom made!" She paused and shot a playful glare at Velma, who at the moment had just licked a morsel of chocolate frosting from her finger.

The younger woman cocked her head. "What?"

Daphne's glare melted into a smile. "Dig in."

Shaggy couldn't help but laugh. "Like, look! There's candied flowers on the side! They look just like the Mystery Machine!" He held up one of the tarts and shoved it into his mouth.

Velma sank the knife into the cushiony form of the cake. She licked her lips. "Jinkies! My favorite flavor! Chocolate cake with chocolate filling!"

Scooby giggled as he pointed at the multicolored doggie bone sprinkles that dappled the frosting. "Rooby racks!"

Fred burst into laughter. Pointing to the inside of the cake, he chortled, "It's filled with gummy bears!"

Daphne shrugged. "Told ya it was custom made!"

"Fred, let's face it. We all know of your notorious gummy bear addiction," Velma smiled, shoveling a forkful of cake into her mouth. "Not bad! Not bad at all!"

"It was Mike's idea," Daphne added, gesturing to her redheaded beau at her side. "He remembered what we all ordered at the shop and decided to mix it all into one."

"Well, where's your parts of it, then?" Velma asked, arching a brow.

"We got it for you. Not us, Velma," Mike said softly.

Fred glanced up at Mike; he hadn't noticed that all his suspicions of the other man had disappeared. In fact, Mike was no longer a threat. Just an average guy. The blond man thought back for only a moment, to the fight in the cafeteria. And he thought, for that mere moment, that he was glad that it had happened.

"Mike?" Fred asked, looking up.

Mike furrowed his brow worriedly. Uh oh, he thought. He exhaled a breath unnoticeably and turned, with a grin, to his new companion. "Yeah, Fred?"

"Thanks."