Sponge: Here's chapter 12! It's another long one. Warning: language, plus strong sexual themes and graphic romance for both Fraphne and Shelma. I don't think it'll be too explicit, but please proceed with caution and read at your own risk anyway. Also, I'd like to point out that I'm not a native Spanish speaker (I retained some of the things I learned in school, but not all), so please excuse my poor foreign language skills in the Spanish class scene. Shout-out to Google Translate. Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Scooby Doo characters. They belong to Cartoon Network, Warner Brothers, and Hanna-Barbera. All lyrics to the songs "Aftershocks," and "Hey #2" belong to Brian Yorkey. All dialogue in bold comes from the Next to Normal script.

Chapter 12: Aftershocks

The next morning, Shaggy woke up hot and sweaty under his blankets. He glanced down at the foot of his bed, where Scooby lay snoozing, then reached over to check his phone for the time. Twenty minutes till his alarm was supposed to go off. He put his phone back down and rubbed his hands over his face.

He'd been having a dream. About Velma.

One of those dreams.

He'd never had a dream like that before, especially about a girl he knew. He couldn't remember specifics – just images and sounds and feelings. He groaned quietly in frustration and spent the next twenty minutes trying to clear his mind so he would calm down. Stupid goddamn hormones, he thought to himself.

He'd composed himself by the time he and Scooby needed to leave for school. But when the Mystery Machine pulled up, Shaggy was unequivocally aware of Velma, even more than usual. It got worse on the drive to school, when Fred swerved to miss a pothole and Shaggy fell sideways into Velma.

"Like, sorry," he mumbled as he righted himself. But he took his time straightening up, hesitant to move from her.

"It's okay," she murmured back to him, also reluctant for the lack of contact.

Fred swerved to miss another pothole and this time Shaggy found Velma pressed up against him.

"Jinkies," she said when she realized how close their faces were. "Maybe we should invest in some seatbelts back here?"

"Like yeah," Shaggy agreed. "There's no way this is legal. Or safe."

They were close enough to kiss. Velma knew she should sit back up, especially given the conversation she'd had with Daphne last night about her and Shaggy's chemistry. But she found it impossible to move. Shaggy, for his part, swallowed and tried to banish the images of Velma that his subconscious had dreamed up last night. Of course, while thinking about the dream, he felt his body respond, and again cursed his pituitary gland.

"Fred!" Daphne exclaimed, and Fred suddenly slammed on the brakes, causing Velma and Shaggy to tumble into the backs of Fred and Daphne's seats. Scooby landed on top of them, and they all grunted uncomfortably.

"What's going on?" Velma said from the bottom of the pile up. The way Shaggy was pressed down on top of her, she could feel the slight firmness in his lower region. She turned slightly pink and avoided his gaze.

"The light turned red. Are you guys okay back there?" Fred replied.

"Yes," Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma all replied as they righted themselves. Velma noticed Shaggy's face had gone somewhat pink as well.

All morning long, the two of them continually found themselves in various states of arousal in the other's presence. In English class, Ms. Whitacre put on a film as a reward for how well the class had done on their pop quiz several weeks ago, and in the near darkness, the electricity between Shaggy and Velma was palpable. The film was an old adaptation of The Great Gatsby. Scooby had fallen asleep, and neither of his human companions paid much attention to the movie either. Shaggy constantly found himself, again, distracted by Velma's slender legs and the short hemline of her skirt. Velma in turn kept finding herself glancing towards Shaggy, and then hurriedly away in embarrassment. It was almost a relief to them both when class was over.

"Like at this rate," Shaggy muttered to himself as they headed down the hall in opposite directions. "I don't know if I'll be able to make it all the way to rehearsal."

"Rut rid roo ray?" Scooby asked.

Shaggy shook his head. "Like, nothing Scoob."

Lunch was bearable only because they had Fred and Daphne as conversation buffers, though they sat next to each other during study hall and again found themselves distracted by each other. But things got much worse in Spanish class.

"Today," Sra. Rodriguez said, "we will be practicing dialogues. There will be a spoken aspect of your AP exam, so it's very important that you're able to translate English to Spanish." She gestured to Shaggy and Velma. "Salvador y Valencia," she said, using their chosen Spanish names, "you're in the fall musical, si? Why don't you come up and demonstrate a dialogue for the class?"

Scooby stayed at the desk while Shaggy and Velma walked up to the front of the room. Sra. Rodriguez handed them each a sheet of paper. "Translate this conversation from English to Spanish, por favor. Salvador, you read for Persona Uno, y Valencia, you read for Persona Dos. Take a moment to look over the dialogue, and then begin."

Shaggy took a look at the dialogue. It appeared to be a simulation of a real estate deal. He had the first line: "Thank you for coming. Would you like to see my house?" He thought for a minute about how to conjugate the verbs.

"Gracias por venir," he began. "Te…gustaria…ver mi cama?"

To his horror, snickers erupted from their classmates, and Velma's face turned red as a beet.

Sra. Rodriguez also looked as though she was trying not to laugh. "Salvador," she said to Shaggy. "The Spanish word for house is casa, which I know you know. I assume you got tongue tied. But you've just asked Valencia if she would like to see your bed."

The giggles intensified, and Shaggy felt himself turn red as well. "I'm sorry," he apologized, feeling sufficiently embarrassed.

Velma shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she replied. She bit her lip, also embarrassed. This, of course, did nothing to help Shaggy.

Somehow the two of them got through the dialogue without any more mishaps and again, both were relieved when the bell rang.

In art class, Shaggy discovered that he'd been absent-mindedly doodling Velma while listening to Mrs. King's lecture on Renaissance artists. He crumpled the drawing and threw it away before Scooby could notice.

When school let out, Shaggy and Scooby headed downstairs to the auditorium. Shaggy gave Scooby his school bag to put in the boy's dressing room and then went to meet Velma in the practice room.

She, of course, was already waiting there, standing near the piano when he arrived. He shut the door and locked it behind him, and the two of them stared at each other for a few moments.

Then they both burst into laughter.

"Zoinks," Shaggy said once it had died down a little. "Well, today's been like…" He trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate way to describe the day.

"Different?" Velma suggested.

Shaggy shrugged. "Yeah, like, that's a good word for it." He leaned against the wall near the piano bench. "I'm like, really sorry about Spanish. That was embarrassing."

Velma shrugged. "I mean, it was embarrassing at the time, but now I think it's kind of funny." She looked away. "I don't know what it is about today, but it's been…more difficult that it usually is, you know?"

Shaggy's heart thundered in his chest. "What do you mean?" Had she been having the same kinds of feelings he'd been having all day?

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I've just been very…conscious of you today," she replied. "More so than usual."

Shaggy could relate. Images of her from his dream last night had been permeating his brain all day long. He tried now to push them away. "Like, me too," he told her. "In the Mystery Machine, in class…I've like, been having a hard time."

Velma raised her eyebrows at him as Shaggy realized what he'd said. He clapped a hand to his forehead. "Man," he sighed. "Sorry…like, I don't think I've ever had this much innuendo in one day."

Velma moved towards him. "So…it was a Freudian slip when you asked if I'd like to see your bed?" she teased. Wildly, she wondered where she'd found this bravado. Was it the knowledge of how much she'd wanted him all day? Was it the knowledge that he'd been thinking of her all day as well? Was it the knowledge that they now had to limit their interactions with each other even at rehearsal to throw off suspicion? Whatever it was, it manifested itself in this flirtatious tone.

Unsure of what had gotten into him, Shaggy returned the flirtation. "Maybe," he said darkly, bringing her close to him so they were flush against each other. Briefly, he allowed himself to imagine what it might be like, having Velma in his bed – his arms around her, her head on his chest, hair mussed and eyes blurry from sleep as golden sunlight peeked through the windows. It would certainly be a nice way to wake up. Unbidden, another image came to mind, one straight out of his dream: both of them fully unclothed, bathed in a light sheen of sweat, her muscles clenched around him as she moaned his name in pleasure.

His body reacted to the thought. And since Velma was pressed up against him, she noticed.

"What are you thinking about?" she murmured.

"Nothing," Shaggy replied huskily, fighting to maintain his composure. He wouldn't give in unless she wanted him to.

"Something you can't tell me?" she said in a whisper. Her hands dropped between them to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. "Or show me?"

That did it. Unable to contain himself any longer, Shaggy crushed his mouth to hers. Velma returned the kiss with fervor, her hands dipping beneath his shirt. Shaggy's mind went fuzzy at her touch.

"I like, had a dream about you," he admitted, breaking the kiss to remove his shirt. He hadn't been planning on telling her, but he wasn't very in control of his mental faculties at the moment. He'd been resisting her too long, and Velma's touch was more intoxicating than any drug he'd ever taken.

"Oh?" Velma was intrigued, but brought his mouth back down to hers once his shirt was off.

"Yeah," Shaggy replied breathlessly. He slid his hands under the hem of her sweater and smirked through the kiss at the way she gasped as he touched her bare skin. "It was like, a pretty excellent dream."

"What happened in it?" she asked, trailing kisses down from his mouth to his neck.

He groaned and gripped her tighter. "Well, like, we were both wearing a lot less clothes than this." What had gotten into him? He'd never been this bold before.

Velma slipped her sweater over her head so it landed on the ground beside his green v-neck. "Is this better?"

"It's like, a good start," Shaggy murmured, pulling her down onto the floor with him.

"Then what?" Velma breathed as she hovered over him. Shaggy was laying on the floor now, but he was totally unaware of the scratchy carpet on his bare back. All he felt was Velma's skin on his.

"We got a little…intimate," he whispered in her ear, shuddering as she ghosted her delicate fingers over his chest.

"More intimate than this?" she whispered back, dancing her hands down to the button of his jeans. She undid his pants and her fingers hovered at the waistband of his boxers. He felt her soft fingers on him, so close to where he needed her touch.

"Like, fuck, Velm," he gasped, sucking in a harsh breath at the contact.

KNOCK KNOCK

With a jolt, Velma removed her hands and she and Shaggy sat up, looking wide-eyed toward the door.

"Who is it?" Velma called out tentatively.

"It's me!" came Tony Moretti's cheery voice from the other side of the door. "Leesa sent me."

He didn't sound as though he'd heard anything. Velma and Shaggy relaxed slightly.

"All right, we're coming," Velma replied. They heard Tony's feet depart down the hall.

Shaggy had already slipped his shirt back on. That had been their closest call yet. They had to be more careful next time. But God, it was so hard to control himself. Was this what it was like for Fred and Daphne?

Like, what's the matter with you? Stop thinking about Fred and Daphne! Shaggy scolded himself.

Velma pulled her sweater on as well, flooded with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she'd almost actually touched Shaggy's…she couldn't even think about it. And she hadn't even asked! Shaggy at least always asked the first time he was about to try something new. Velma hadn't even had that decency. Her stomach twisted in humiliation.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, shame heating her face. "I um…I don't know if that was more than you were ready for, but…I'm sorry."

Shaggy blinked at her, dumbfounded . Did she think he hadn't liked the feeling of her hand beneath his jeans? "Like, don't apologize for that," he told her. "That was…" he trailed off. Remarkable. Amazing. Incredible. "That was great," he finished lamely.

Velma looked away. "I wasn't really thinking about what I was doing. I was just…you know, acting on instinct."

Shaggy gave a rueful snort. "Like, do you think I know what I'm doing?" he asked. "You're the first girl I've ever done this kind of stuff with, Velm. The only girl. But like…when we're in here together…" he shrugged. "I like, don't want to be anywhere else."

Velma blinked at him and leaned closer. "I don't want to be anywhere else either," she admitted in a low voice.

They looked at each other, full of desire.

Velma chose that moment to look at the clock above the piano. With a sigh, she rose to her feet. "Come on," she said. "They'll be wondering where we are." Reluctantly, Shaggy followed her.

x.X.x

When they arrived at the auditorium, Mr. Atwood was nowhere in sight. Leesa and Scooby sat in the front of the house, bent over the production binder as the rest of the cast chatted idly in the seats.

"You guys have been gone awhile," Holden remarked.

Velma ignored him. "Where's Mr. Atwood?" she asked.

"He's got a stomach bug," Daphne replied. "We had a sub in class. Maintenance fixed the pulley system so we were able to work onstage. We all spent seventh period rebuilding the set where the sandbag fell, and then the sub split us up so the juniors organized the wood loft and the seniors organized the costume loft." Daphne gestured to the stage, where the structure had indeed been repaired. "I think Leesa and Scooby are trying to figure out what to do for rehearsal today," she continued.

At that moment, Leesa called out to the company. "All right everyone, gather onstage please," she said. Everyone obeyed. Once the cast had assembled, Leesa said, "I just heard from Mr. Atwood. Since he isn't here today he wants us to have a special kind of rehearsal called 'cue-to-cue.' That means we'll be jumping from one technical cue to the next, so we can fine-tune all the light, sound, and set changes. We'll just be doing Act II today – if we started from the top of the show, we'd be here all night."

"So…do you not need us?" Fred was confused.

"Oh, we need you," Leesa said. "Even if the dialogue or singing takes a backseat, we'll be calling you when we need you to stand in for various movement cues, so don't go far." She turned to Scooby. "You stay here at your desk to call the cues. I'll be with Addie and Travis in the booth."

"Rokay," Scooby agreed. He sat down at his desk and put on the communicative headphones as Leesa headed to the back of the house, where the sound and lighting booth was.

"The rest of you," Leesa called over her shoulder as she went. "Hang out in the house or the dressing rooms and listen for when we call you."

Cue-to-cue took ages, it seemed. Every time there was a new cue, Travis and his team fiddled with the lights until they were the correct color and brightness, while Addie and her team tinkered with the sound board. It was almost thirty minutes before anyone even went onstage.

Slowly but surely they made their way through Act II. Because the lighting always needed to be fiddled with, Holden was running his song, "Aftershocks," in almost total darkness. The tune was eerie and as Shaggy sat in the house with Tony (Fred, Daphne, and Velma were all onstage), he felt seriously creeped out.

"They've managed to get rid of me, return me to the grave," Holden sang.

"ECT, electric chair, we shock who we can't save

They've cleared you of my memory, and many more as well

You may have wanted some of them, but who can ever tell?

Your brainwaves are more regular, the chemistry more pure

The headaches and the nausea will pass and you'll endure

Your son is gone forever though, of that the doctor's sure…

The memories will wane

The aftershocks remain

You wonder which is worse,

The symptoms or the cure…"

Lights came up way too bright, illuminating Velma in Natalie's bedroom and Daphne sitting at the kitchen table with Fred. They all squinted. Then Travis overcorrected and the lights went off entirely.

"Sorry!" came Travis' voice from the lighting booth. He fixed the lights so they were the proper brightness. Shaggy glanced over at Tony, who grinned and shrugged. Shaggy grinned and shrugged back. Now that Shaggy and Velma were back to their regularly scheduled practice room escapades, Shaggy's jealousy of Tony had diminished exponentially and while it hadn't gone away completely, he was able to interact with him normally again.

"Go ahead and run the scene while we figure out the lights here," Leesa said, her voice magnified over the sound booth's speaker system. "Rogers, get set for your entrance." Shaggy nodded to Tony and got up to wait in the wings.

Fred, true to form, still had his script with him. "Diana?" he said, looking at the script instead of Daphne. "Honey? You've been at this for days." The lights continued to go between dim and bright as the scene went on.

Daphne sighed, both with frustration as Diana, and annoyance at Fred's dependency on his script. She had to tell him how much this bothered her. But now wasn't the time. "There's something missing, Dan. It's like it's tugging at me. I can almost see it."

"Come to bed," was Fred/Dan's response. He waited for a moment. "If the memories are meant to come back…they will." After another beat, he exited. This was Shaggy's cue to enter as Henry. He prepared to knock on the front door, but Daphne/Diana beat him to it.

"Oh," said Shaggy/Henry, startled. "Sorry, Miz Goodman. I just needed to talk to Natalie about some homework." Daphne/Diana just stared at him. "I know it's late," he continued. "She's not answering her…is everything all right?"

"Henry," Daphne/Diana said, finally remembering his name.

"Yes?" Shaggy/Henry replied.

Daphne/Diana: "You remind me of someone. How old are you?"

Shaggy/Henry: "Seventeen. Why?"

There was a beat. "I don't know," Daphne/Diana said. "Natalie's in her room."

Shaggy/Henry went in and climbed the precarious stairs to Natalie's bedroom as Holden/Gabe continued his ghostly song.

"They've managed to get rid of me – I'm gone without a trace.

But sear the soul and leave a scar no treatment can erase.

They cut away the cancer but forgot to fill the hole.

They moved me from your memory – I'm still there in your soul.

Your life goes back to normal now, or so they all believe.

Your heart is in your chest again, not hanging from your sleeve.

They've driven out the demons, and they've earned you this reprieve:

The memories are gone.

The aftershocks live one.

But with nothing to remember, is there nothing left to grieve?"

Daphne/Diana repeated the final line. "With nothing to remember…"

"Cut!" said Leesa from the booth. "I think we're good on lights for this number. Rogers and Dinkley, stay on stage so we can get the light cues for the next number. Blake, Jones, and Walsh, don't go far."

This is it, Daphne realized. This is when I can tell Fred what's been bothering me. But where to go? She wanted the conversation to be private, so they couldn't sit in the house. But the practice rooms where Shaggy and Velma met were too far away.

"Freddie," Daphne murmured to him as they exited. "Come up to the costume loft with me for a minute." She led the way, and no one noticed as they climbed the stairs. In her head, she practiced what she'd say so he wouldn't have his feelings hurt.

But Fred was too hasty, and almost immediately started defending himself as soon as the door to the loft was closed.

"I know what you're going to say," Fred said. "But I'm not going to back off Holden. I know he's involved in this somehow. We just have to get him to come out dressed as the Phantom and then I'll set a trap –"

"Fred!" Daphne exclaimed, slightly taken aback. "I'm not here to talk about Holden or traps or the mystery of the Phantom. If you'd listen for a second –"

"It's the only way to catch him!" Fred barreled on as though Daphne hadn't spoken. "I have a plan for a trap. Ever since that sandbag fell, I've been thinking about ways we can utilize the pulley system in the fly space to rig up a trap. It should be pretty simple, all I need is a way to figure out how to catch him in his costume –"

"Fred, would you shut up about the damn trap?" Daphne interrupted. Everything she'd planned to say had flown out of her brain. "I swear, you care more about traps than about our relationship. I'm tired of it! You're so focused on this mystery that there's no room left in your head for anything else."

Fred looked at her with fire in his eyes. "You sound like our parents, you know," he told her. "That's almost exactly what they said before they gave us the Ultimatum. Isn't that why you made us sign up for this play in the first place? Because you said we could get around the Ultimatum and have a mystery to solve?" He threw his hands in the air. "If that's true, then why am I the only one trying to solve this mystery?"

"I didn't make you do anything," Daphne countered, even though it wasn't true. She knew that none of her friends would have auditioned if she hadn't asked them to. She'd even said that very thing to Holden yesterday. But hearing Fred say it like that made embarrassment – and therefore, anger – flood through her. "And the rest of us aren't as obsessed with the mystery because we have to do things like memorize our lines and learn our songs. The show opens in two weeks, Fred, and you're the only one of us who isn't committed!"

"I am committed!" Fred shot back. "I'm committed to solving this mystery!"

"You're not committed to this musical! You're not committed to me!" Daphne shouted.

As this statement landed, they both stared at each other in fury. Daphne hadn't meant to say that last part. Tears of frustration threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she blinked them away.

Fred's gaze softened. "Is that what you think?" he murmured. "That I'm not committed to you?"

Daphne threw her hands up in exasperation. "What am I supposed to think?" she exclaimed, still trying to keep her angry tears in check. "No one else is struggling with their lines. No one else is obsessed with trying to prove Holden guilty." She sat down on the old green couch, trying to calm down.

Fred followed and sat down beside her. Was this what she was really mad about? If so, Fred had a simple solution. "Daphne," he said seriously. "If I wasn't committed to you, I wouldn't have auditioned for this play. If I wasn't committed to you, I wouldn't be so focused on keeping you safe from the Phantom." He gently took her chin in his hand and brought her face to his for a kiss so passionate that Daphne's head spun. "And if I wasn't committed to you, I sure as hell wouldn't kiss you like this," he said gutturally when he detached his lips from hers.

Daphne blinked at him. "I don't believe you," she murmured. "You better do it again, just so I know you're serious."

Before she knew what was happening, Daphne felt Fred's mouth on hers, hot and urgent. She kissed him back fervently, already untying his ascot and shifting her position so she lay beneath him on the couch.

Fred gently bit Daphne's lower lip, and slid his tongue into her mouth when she granted him access. Passion overwhelmed them both and Daphne pulled Fred closer. In moments, his shirt lay on the ground and Daphne's dress had been unzipped and discarded as well. Their warm mouths collided with each other over and over again as Fred's hands moved higher up Daphne's body, until his fingers reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Once it had been unfastened, she shrugged it off and Fred delicately kissed her breast.

Daphne's breath hitched at the contact, and she gave a slight whimper as he teased her with his tongue. Excitement overcame Fred at the sounds Daphne made, and encouraged him to continue his ministrations.

In the back of her mind, Daphne recognized the fact that, though unlikely, there was the possibility that someone could come in here any minute. The door to the costume loft didn't lock. But she was too preoccupied with the feeling of Fred's mouth on her to really care.

She tangled the fingers of one hand in the fine blond hair at the nape of Fred's neck while her other hand gripped the side of the couch cushion.

Or, what she thought was the couch cushion.

Coming out of her blissful stupor for a moment, she realized the fabric she had grabbed was a different material than the couch. And it appeared to be coming from underneath the cushion.

"Freddie," she said, sitting up slightly. "Hold on a minute." Fred looked up at her, confusedly. Daphne wriggled out from under him and pulled something black out from beneath the cushion. She stared at it in confusion for a moment before she recognized it.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered. "This is the jacket for Holden's tuxedo." She looked at Fred. "Do you think the rest of it is in the couch too?"

Fred shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He jumped off the couch and helped her pull away the rest of the cushions. A few moments later, they had the entire ensemble – the shirt, the pants, the bowtie. They even found the socks and shoes under the couch.

"Jeepers…it's all here," Daphne murmured.

"Well I guess it makes sense that a costume would be in the costume loft," Fred said. "But it's strange that it's in the couch cushions. And it looks like someone hid it here in a hurry. Why?"

Daphne shook her head. "No one comes up here really except Harmony and the other costume designers. But it's been a while since they…wait." Daphne suddenly remembered what had happened during drama class. She'd even mentioned it to Velma at the start of rehearsal. After they fixed the set, she and the rest of the juniors had organized the wood loft, and the seniors had organized the costume loft.

The senior class were the last people who'd been in there.

Which meant that Holden was one of the last people who'd been in there.

Oh my God…Freddie might be right.

Daphne furrowed her brow resolutely. "Babe," she said, reaching for her discarded clothes. "Let's get dressed. We have to confront Holden." Fred looked at her in astonishment, and she grinned. "Now it's my turn to show you how committed I am to you."

x.X.x

Onstage, Shaggy and Velma were still running through "Hey #2" at Leesa's request while Travis and his team figured out the light situation. Velma sat at Natalie's desk in her room, while Shaggy stood in the doorway.

Shaggy/Henry: "Hey."

Velma/Natalie: "Hey."

Shaggy/Henry: "So, tomorrow's the dance.

It's annoying, I know.

But let's go."

Velma/Natalie shook her head. "Not a chance."

Shaggy/Henry: "Let me know you again."

Velma/Natalie: "Not right now."

Shaggy/Henry: "Okay, when?

Say wait, and I'll wait."

Velma/Natalie: "It's already too late."

Shaggy/Henry: "There's no way it's too late,

There's no way."

Velma/Natalie: "Hey…hey!"

Shaggy/Henry: "I stayed by your side."

Velma/Natalie: "Will you listen? Just shut up and listen!"

Shaggy/Henry: "Why do I get denied?"

Velma/Natalie: "You remind me of me

And how fucked up I can be."

Shaggy took a deep breath. Every time Velma said "fuck," his body reacted the same way. And now that he was thinking of her in the context of his dream – and the practice room – it wasn't getting any easier. Especially since they hadn't been able to reach any kind of conclusion today. He couldn't wait to get back to the practice room.

"Okay," he sang, trying to bring himself back to the moment. "Hey.

Let's start over, clean slate.

I'll come by here at eight.

If you show, then we'll go.

If you don't, well, we'll see." He brought the tickets out of his pocket.

She sighed. "You just don't give up."

He looked at her seriously before placing a ticket beside her. "So don't give up on me."

With a glance away, she sang, "Goodbye, Henry…"

As the last notes of the song faded out, the sudden slam of a door from above caused everyone to jump.

"What was that?" asked Tony, who had moved to the wings.

"Rhe Rhantom?" Scooby worried.

But the sound of scampering feet thundered down the stairs from the costume loft and a moment later, Fred and Daphne burst onstage, holding a bundle of cloth in their hands.

"Look what we found!" Daphne cried triumphantly.

Holden came out from the wings to see what she had. "Oh my God," he breathed. "It's my tux. Where did you find it?"

"Under the cushions of the couch in the costume loft," Fred said.

"What were you guys doing up there?" asked Velma.

Fred and Daphne exchanged a shifty gaze. "Looking for clues," Fred replied evasively.

Shaggy blinked, remembering that where Fred and Daphne were concerned, "looking for clues" was often a euphemism for fooling around. Like, seriously? At school? Shaggy thought to himself, before remembering what he and Velma had been up to in the practice room earlier that very afternoon.

"How'd you find it?" asked Tony.

"On accident," was Daphne's ambiguous response.

Shaggy and Velma glanced at each other dubiously.

Holden took the bundle of cloth from Daphne and grimaced. "It's so wrinkled. Harmony's gonna shit herself," he murmured. Harmony, indeed, emerged from the wings and gasped when she saw the state that the costume was in.

"Then why did you hide it there?" Fred asked him pointedly.

Holden stared at him in disbelief. "Oh my God, are you still on that, Jones?"

"Listen, Holden," Daphne spoke up. "I want to believe you. I do. But this is too much of a coincidence. The seniors organized the costume loft today. You're the only senior in this production, so you're the only one who's been up there recently."

"I am not the only senior!" Holden exclaimed. "Leesa, Harmony, Travis, and Addie are all seniors too. They were all there with me this afternoon." He jerked his head towards Harmony, who stood bewildered on the edge of the stage. "Maybe she did it. She's the head of costume design."

"Hey, leave me out of this!" Harmony cried. "Why would I want to ruin my own costume like that?"

"Do you think I wanted to ruin this costume?" Holden replied heatedly. "Or any part of this production? That's bullshit!"

"They've got a point, though," one of Harmony's helpers piped up. "We haven't touched that costume since we gave it to you, and you were the last one to have it."

"I didn't wreck this tuxedo!" Holden shouted.

"Methinks he doth protest too much," a stagehand quipped out of the corner of her mouth.

"Shut up!" Holden yelled. He whirled around and pointed a finger at Daphne. "See what you've done? This is all your fault. I thought you were my friend, Daphne!"

"ENOUGH!" boomed Leesa's voice from the booth, magnified over the microphone. Everyone cringed at the volume. She came out of the booth and stormed up to the stage. "Listen," she said in a furious whisper when she arrived. "I know that there's a lot of weird shit happening. But we are all stressed out, so quit blaming each other!" She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Just go home. We'll reconvene on Monday when Mr. Atwood is back, and maybe we can make some damn progress."

Silently, everyone departed. Scooby and Leesa returned to the booth for a production meeting. Fred and Daphne left for the Mystery Machine deliberately not looking at Holden, who stalked off without a word. The pit orchestra shuffled away, saying nothing. Tony looked at Shaggy and Velma, distressed.

"Lot of bad blood around here these days," he murmured.

Shaggy clapped him on the back comfortingly. "Like don't worry about it, man," Shaggy said. "I'm like, sure it'll all blow over soon." But he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure at all.

Tony nodded and sighed. "You guys go ahead to your meeting. I'll let you know when your friends are back with the van."

Shaggy and Velma obeyed, hurrying down the hall to their practice room. Once they were safely inside, they looked at each other worriedly.

"Well, Daphne and Fred seem to have made up," Velma said. "She believes him about Holden being the Phantom, in any case."

"Yeah," Shaggy sighed. "But like, at what cost? Now he's fighting with everyone."

They stood in silence for a while.

"Like, can you believe Daphne and Fred?" Shaggy finally said. "It's one thing when we're like, investigating a haunted house or whatever, but this was at school and everyone was like, just downstairs. What were they thinking?"

Velma blinked at him. "I think you mean what are we thinking." She leaned against the wall. "We're no better than them, really."

Shaggy shrugged. "Like, I guess. But the main difference is that like, anyone could have caught them in the costume loft. And there's like, no chance of anyone walking in on us in here." He locked the door. "Especially now."

Velma arched a flirtatious eyebrow at him. "You trying to pick up where we left off?" She bit her lip.

Shaggy looked down at her, heart in his eyes. He couldn't get enough of her. He wanted her right now. He wanted her all the time.

"Is that okay?" he asked. As long as she wanted him too, he would happily give in to her over and over again.

In response, she stood on her toes and kissed him heatedly.

"You'd think," Velma murmured between kisses, "that after all these weeks – this wouldn't have the same effect on us."

Shaggy shook his head, deepening the kiss. "I like, don't think there's any way I'll get tired of this," he confessed to her in a low voice. Once again, he removed his shirt and brought her to the floor with him. She pulled her turtleneck off in return. "How about you?" he asked, kissing behind her ear. "Will you like, ever get tired of this?"

Velma's eyes fluttered shut. "Unlikely," she whispered into his neck.

As he lay over top of her, feeling her mouth on his neck, Shaggy couldn't believe how much he wanted her. Up till these past several weeks, the only things he'd desired this much had been edible. He wouldn't have believed it possible, but he consistently found himself craving Velma more than he'd ever craved food. And earlier this afternoon, she'd proven how much she wanted him too. Their lips found each other again, and he kissed her hungrily. His brain buzzed with desire. Right now, at this moment, there was no room in his mind for anything else. Just Velma. Only Velma.

Without really thinking about it, he began trailing his hands up her legs until they were under her skirt.

"Shaggy!" Velma gasped in surprise, breaking the kiss.

Shaggy immediately moved his hands away. "I'm sorry. Are you okay? I like, should have asked first. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to assume..."

Velma's brows creased. She'd gotten over her shock – no one had ever touched her there before – and she was trying to decide how she felt about it. She sat in silence for a few moments, deep in thought.

"It's all right," she said finally. "It was just…surprising."

Shaggy swallowed. "Velma," he said seriously. "Like, listen to me very carefully. We do not have to do anything that you don't want to do."

She blinked at him. "What makes you think I don't want this?"

Shaggy gawked at her. "I don't know, maybe the fact that you like, jumped two feet in the air when I touched you?"

Velma stared at him resolutely. "Do it again," she said softly. When he didn't, she put his hand on her leg. "It's okay," she said, and he could tell by her tone that it was. "Touch me. Please."

He wasn't going to make her beg, hot as that was. But he knew he had to start slow. Carefully, Shaggy moved his hand up Velma's leg, his eyes scrutinizing her face. When his fingers approached the hem of her skirt, he waited until she nodded once before he crossed that threshold. She gasped again and shut her eyes, but she didn't remove his hand.

"Like are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yes," she breathed, and to Shaggy's astonishment, a note of desire colored her tone.

"Do you want, like, more?" he said softly.

She nodded immediately. "Yes. Please."

With cautious sensitivity, he let his hand drift between her legs, and felt a thrill of pleasure go through him when she bit her lip and hissed at the contact.

In response, she toyed with the button of his jeans. "Can I touch you?" she whispered. It was almost pleading, the way she said it. That was the most arousing thing of all.

"Like, God, please," Shaggy murmured back, removing his hand from her momentarily in order to help her undo and lower his jeans. He gasped sharply as he felt Velma's hand tentatively brush him over his boxers. "Velma," he moaned at her touch. It felt even better than it had in his dream, even with the barrier of his boxers.

Velma's heart thudded at the guttural response that she had caused. That. She. Had. Caused. She couldn't get over that thought as she kissed and nipped along his neck.

Hazy passion clouded Shaggy's mind as the feel of Velma's kisses and caresses overwhelmed him. He continued ghosting his fingers between her legs, and though he wasn't touching her skin directly, he reveled in the reaction it elicited in her. Just as she had in his dream, Velma moaned Shaggy's name with abandon, trying to stifle her pleasure into his shoulder or his neck, but not always with great success. These sounds, too, were even better than they had been in his dream. Shaggy also grunted and groaned rather recklessly as their hands continued their exploration of each other's bodies. His dream came to mind again, but he knew this, the real thing, was so much more than his subconscious could have ever concocted.

They continued to touch each other over the underwear, neither quite brave enough to venture farther, until Shaggy realized that he was either going to have to take care of himself right here in the practice room (which he had vowed never to do again after that first and only time), or stop all together.

"Velm," he whispered in her ear. "I like…really don't want to stop. Believe me, it's like the last thing I want. But I think we like…have to. I don't…I don't want things to get like, out of control."

Velma sighed and nodded. "You're right," she said, planting one final lingering kiss onto the side of his neck.

He groaned. "Like don't make this more difficult than it already is," he begged.

Velma chuckled and withdrew her hands from him. Already, Shaggy pined for the contact.

As they dressed and tried to calm down, Velma wondered aloud why no one had knocked on the door yet.

"Like, I don't know," Shaggy replied. "But I'm not complaining."

They grinned at each other.

"I'm not complaining either," Velma replied. Then, with a small sigh, she continued. "I should warn you though…people are starting to get suspicious."

Shaggy furrowed his brow. "Suspicious of what?"

"Of us," Velma replied, not quite looking him in the eye. "I know that the…the time we spend in here…" (why couldn't she just call it what it was – hooking up?) "…has been really helpful to our performance, but I think we might need to…calm it down a little." She jerked her head towards the door. "Out in the real world, at least."

Shaggy nodded slowly. "Like as long as we can keep it up in here, I think I can handle myself out there."

"Believe me," said Velma, standing up. "I have no plans of stopping this."

Shaggy grinned and stood up with her. He had calmed down enough to leave the room. "Like, me neither," he told her.

When they opened the door to the hallway, they were shocked to find Tony leaning against the opposite wall, as far away from the door as he could stand. His face was bright red and he didn't look either of them in the eye.

They stared at him dumbfounded for a few moments before realizing why he was embarrassed.

"Like, oh my God," Shaggy gasped.

"How long have you been here?" Velma whispered.

Tony shook his head, still not making eye contact. "Not long," he said vaguely, in a way that clearly indicated he had, indeed, been there awhile.

Shaggy and Velma looked at each other aghast as they understood what this meant.

They had not been quiet enough. Tony had heard them. And now, he knew their secret.

Velma got her nerve back first.

"Tony, where are Daphne, Fred, and Scooby?" she asked him.

Tony jerked a thumb towards the door to the outside. "In the parking lot with your van. I saw them pull up and told them I'd come tell you they were here, but then..." he trailed off. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to..." Again, he didn't finish his sentence.

Shaggy hid his face in his hands and groaned. "Oh man, oh man, oh man," he muttered to himself, horrified and humiliated. He had just been saying how irresponsible it was of Daphne and Fred to fool around at school. Now he and Velma had been caught, and the shame he felt was unparalleled.

Velma grabbed Tony's shoulders and forced him to look at her. "Tony, listen to me," she said authoritatively. "Nobody knows about this. Not Daphne, not Fred, and certainly not Scooby Doo. And we desperately want to keep it that way."

Tony looked at them skeptically. "No one knows?"

"No one but you," Velma told him. "So it is imperative that you keep this a secret. Do you understand?"

Tony looked at them both in disbelief.

"Like, please, man," Shaggy said. "No one can know about this. We've like, gotta just keep it between us."

Finally, Tony nodded slowly. "All right. I won't tell anyone. But uh...can I offer a word of advice?"

Shaggy and Velma nodded confusedly.

Tony turned red again. "If you wanna keep this a secret...I feel like I should tell you that I could hear you through the door. You're uh...kinda loud. Both of you."

With that, he hurried out of the building without a further glance at them, leaving Shaggy and Velma behind him, mortified, in the school hallway.

Sponge: These practice room scenes are starting to get away from me. Hope you enjoyed it, though! Thanks for reading. Review if you please!