Thanks Hayles45, and don't worry, I text more often than I speak. If you like or hate, review, both praise and criticism is welcome, please be specific as to what you like or hate.
"Like, why can't we get some grub?" Shaggy asked after a big yawn.
Scooby, who had also been affected by the time change, woke up at Shag's last word.
"Ra! I'm rungry!"
"Scooby, you're always hungry," I reminded him, not taking my eyes off the streets of Paris as I drove.
"You two ate a café out of house and home just a few hours ago," Velma added, glasses appearing from behind the map.
"Hey, like, all that stair climbing exhausts a guy!" Shaggy protested, still bitter about having to walk up the stairs to the top of the Arc de Triumph. "We're famished…"
"Will a Scooby Snack tide you over?" Velma asked with a smile, turning around.
"Ra! Ra! Scooby Snack!" Scooby nodded enthusiastically, tail wagging and accidentally hitting Shaggy upside the head.
He rubbed his head, wincing in pain.
I rolled my eyes and half-smiled at the baby as Scooby apologized.
"Roops, sorry, Raggy."
"Like, that's all right, Scooby."
"When's the next turn, Velma?" I asked, turning to her but keeping my eyes on the stop light.
"Hang on, Fred…" she said, disappearing behind the map again.
Daphne's sleeping head still resting on my shoulder. Despite all her fighting, sleep had won the battle a few minutes after our Arc de Triumph trip. With all the running around, climbing stairs, and picture taking she had done today, it was a miracle she hadn't collapsed earlier. She must've taken up all the memory on her digital camera by now, and we'd only been in France for a few hours.
The light turned green and I followed Velma's directions. We were supposed to meet up with Mr. Blake's friend at Notre Dame. Apparently he was an heir to some French fortune. I still didn't understand why we had to meet up with the man, but Daphne's father was very protective of his little girl and liked to know she was safe. He still didn't trust me after all this years, not that I could blame him. I mean, I got his daughter kidnapped practically on a weekly basis.
"So have you girls decided whether or not you're going to the Louvre or shopping tomorrow?"
"You know Daphne, shopping is one of her passions, and Paris is her favorite mall," Velma sisterly teased with a half smile. "But she's ever the artist and loves art museums. She'd never forgive me if I went to the Louvre without her."
"I guess I could be Daph's bell boy for the day tomorrow. Couldn't you take Shag and Scooby on a tour of Paris restaurants? And you said you wanted to go on that boat ride on the Seine didn't you?"
Velma nodded, holding up the map again.
"We could do that…"
"And then the next day you can check out the Louvre," I suggested.
Velma folded the map up in a flash, staring at me in disbelief over her glasses.
"Freddie, the Louvre is one of the largest art museums in the world. It's literally impossible to see all of it in one day," she informed me.
The guys' loud snores gave me an excuse not to reply.
I looked down to the angel next to me. Her smooth, thick, crimson curls sprawled out on the sleeve of my white t-shirt, the scarlet locks softer than a kitten. Her flawless, perfectly shaped, sized, and proportioned, heart shaped face really was… breathtakingly angelic. The moonlight made it even more luminescent than usual, her flawless skin looked so soft, so smooth. The impulse to touch her face was unbearable, yet at the same time I was so afraid I'd break the spell, or that my rough hand would ruin her. She seemed stronger than steel, yet as breakable as water.
Her glowing visage had this perfect, contented, peaceful beauty about it that could never be there were she awake. Her face still, her thick black lashes brushing her high but not too high cheek bones. Her lips smooth, glossy, unmoving.
A rare occurrence indeed for Daphne, I thought with a smile. Oh sure, she seemed quiet enough, but after a while, you'd see just how bold, outspoken, and talkative the young woman was.
I couldn't breathe, afraid the air coming out of my lungs might shatter this enchantment, this pure, peaceful, indescribable beauty that filled anyone who laid eyes on her with peace, contentment, and love. Anyone who saw Daphne asleep would be willing to die for this fiery angel. My heart couldn't beat, afraid the sound might wake her, or perhaps it was beating so fast I couldn't tell, I really couldn't care less anymore. And my heart, whether beating or not, was both melted into a puddle and flaming brilliantly at the same time. Surely this pure joy, peace, hope, and love would overflow from me, surely this feeling was enough to swallow all of Paris, nay, all of France if it escaped. And it had to escape soon, otherwise I was sure I'd drown in this overwhelming bliss.
I swallowed my heart, which had leapt into my throat at some point, and turned back to the road as I spun the wheel. The only flaw in Daphne's sleeping face was the fact I couldn't see her eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful, heart melting, soul shaking, core of being penetrating, shimmering, shining, breathtaking eyes…
Nothing ever made, seen, or imagined was as beautiful, soul piercing, and breathtaking as those bright, brilliant, shimmering, luminescent, endless, heart penetrating, flaming, crystalline pools of the purest, brightest azure. They looked like sunlight striking a bottomless ocean of blue crystal, except it was also on fire at the same time…
"Huh?" a startled Daph asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Are we there yet?"
My heart skipped a beat when I saw how close my face was to Fred's. Those bright, sky blue eyes of his were smoldering and smothering, making me forget how to breathe, his eyes were two clear, heart melting, brilliant, blazing, endless sapphires, and they were penetrating my soul as usual.
"Almost. Where do we park?" he asked, turning back to the road.
I hesitated, trying to breathe again.
"Parvis de Notre Dame," I replied, pointing to it on the map.
"Oh. Merci."
***
"Ah! Mademoiselle Daphne et le… Scooby gang," a tall, thin, balding man said, stepping away from the Cathedral to us with wide arms.
"Bonjour, monsieur," I greeted him with a smile.
"Yez, yez, 'ello, Mizz Blake," he said in a heavy French accent, taking my hands in his. "I am Pierre Gautier and you must be Mr. Frederick Jonez, Velma Finkley, and…" he said turning, to Fred and Velma in turn but hesitating when he saw Shaggy. He and Scoob were still tilted back, jaws hitting the ground, staring in awe at the cathedral's massive towers. "Norville Rogerz and 'iz dog…" he finished, disgusted at the word.
"Rog? Rhere?" Scooby asked, looking up and around.
"Uh, yes," Freddie covered, turning to Pierre with a smile and hand. "Fred Jones."
"Pleazure," the Frenchman said, inclining his head as he shook Freddie's hand. He straightened, facing all of us. "Monsieur Duval zaid you were coming."
"I hope we're not too much of a burden," Daphne said, brow furrowing with worry. She always looked so adorable when she did that… "I know you're not open this late…"
"Don't be ridiculous, my dear," he said, arms folded behind his back, his voice proper, emotionless, and inflectionless; it would've been almost monotonous had it not been for his French accent.
His mustache kept distracting me though, it was a thin, slicked line of black hair with curly ends, the perfect example of a French mustache stereotype. But, I supposed it fit Mr. Proper, whose black suit didn't seem to have a single wrinkle. I felt ridiculous in my t-shirt and slacks compared to the inventor of formal.
Daph, of course, looked perfect. She could pull of anything and everything. And she looked gorgeous as ever in her black pleated skirt, black beret, and white, short-sleeved sweater. She had left her purse in the mystery van, but she still had her thick black bracelet on one wrist, silver bangles and her charm bracelet on the other, dangling silver and diamond earrings, and a black necklace I hadn't seen her wear in ages…
"Darian Duval iz a dear friend and, without him, who knowz what would become of Notre Dame. Any friends of 'iz are friendz of mine, not to mention 'ow far back your father and I go, Miss Blake," he added, focusing on Daphne.
"Darian Duval donates a good deal amount of money to Notre Dame's restoration fund," Velma explained for Shaggy's and my benefit. "Many of Notre Dames statues and gargoyles still need to be restored."
"Darian… that's an English name, isn't it?" I asked.
Velma nodded.
"His mother was British."
"Do you know when Monseiur Duval is joining us, Monsieur Gautier?" Daph inquired.
"Shortly, Mizz Blake. He iz to meet you inside. Come, follow me."
He turned and, just before he could open the door for us, it opened.
A pale, thickly muscled man stood there, dragging a cart of cleaning supplies.
"Zis is Jacques, he tendz to the inside of our fair cathedral," Pierre explained without even glancing at the man, irritated, before pushing past him and opening the door all the way.
Jacques grumbled something in French to Pierre, something about dogs not being allowed in the cathedral. Gautier sent him a silencing look, insisting in French that they would make an exception and that Scooby was perfectly well trained.
"He iz house broken, izn't he?" Pierre asked me in English so Jacques wouldn't understand; Gautier seemed reluctant to let the Great Dane in as well.
"Rouse Roken…?!" Scooby asked with a frown, deeply offended.
"Yes," I assured him quickly before Fred and I simultaneously sent Scooby a look.
"Zis way then…"
***
Gautier gave us a tour of Notre Dame and Velma was in heaven. She was constantly talking to Pierre about the history of every room we entered and everything we passed. At first, he seemed quite delighted to share his knowledge with her and discuss the cathedral's, and France's, history with an intellectual. But, after a while, he seemed to be trying to outdo Velma with his knowledge of the cathedral, but it was a losing battle. Velma always knew more than the experts in any field, area, or historic monument. She made his mustache twitch with fury and annoyance and I half-thought he might strangle the short brunette.
At least Shaggy and Scooby haven't broken anything yet… I thought. Oh trust me, they had come very close at least five times, much to Gautier's horror.
"What's this?" Fred asked, knowing Pierre might strangle Velma if he didn't distract them.
He was gesturing to a large painting. It was of one of Notre Dame's towers on a dark knight, but there was something strange about it. A white face was lit up by a lightning bolt in the painting. It was a handsome, pale face, dark haired, mouth red as blood…
Pierre scowled with disgust at the painting.
"Vampire de la cathedrale Notre-Dame," he said. "You can see vy we keep it away from the main part of ze cathedral."
"Like, did that dude just say vampire in a fancy French accent?" Shaggy asked Scooby, pointing to Pierre with his thumb.
"Scoobert" gulped, nodding.
"Ra, Raggy, I rink he rid…"
"Oh boy, here we go…" Shag sighed, sitting down next to Scoob.
Fred raised an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth to ask something, but Gautier cut him off.
"According to legend, zere was a vampire a few centuriez ago that lived in Notre Dame. He attacked several nunz and other women within ze cathedral," the Frenchman announced.
"Like, what happened to him, er, it, er…?" Shaggy stuttered.
"Some legends claimed he was stabbed in the heart with a wooden steak by the love of one of the women he kidnapped," Velma said, not taking her eyes of the painting and her orange sweatered back receiving a glare from Pierre. "Others say he was never found and still remains, hidden in the towers."
Shaggy and Scooby gulped, covering their hearts with their hands, and paws.
"Never. Found?" Shag asked, gulping again.
"Ridiculous nonsenze, of courze," Pierre insisted, accent think as ever, dismissing the idea with a wave. "Vampires do not exizt, and even if zey did, zere is no proof there was even any vampire killings in Notre Dame."
I had that feeling in my gut again. That bad feeling I always got just before a mystery surfaced wherever we were.
Not again. Please, please, not again. Can't we just have one measly week without…
My thoughts were cut off by the sound of footsteps. Fighting back the urge to give whoever it was a roundhouse kick to the face, I slowly turned. Freddie had appeared at my side again, where he always appeared whenever there was even the slightest possibility of danger. Okay, so there really wasn't any danger, but it was instinctive for him and I wasn't complaining.
A man of Fred's tall, broad shouldered, muscled build stepped out of the shadows with a charming smile on his handsome, familiar face. His midnight black hair was smoothed back, fitting him perfectly as usual, a dark contrast to his fair skin. His eyes were a deep, rich, glowing, swirling, milk chocolate, lighter than usual because they were lit by the moon shining through the window. His face seemed to be carved by angels, angular jaw, square chin, all of it coming together flawlessly because the rest of his face eyes, nose, brow, lips… were perfectly shaped, proportioned, and sized.
"Daphne," he said, his English without a single hint of any French accent. When do his voice becoming so… clear, smooth, flowing, mesmerizing, cool, charming, calming, peaceful, heart melting…? "Ravishing as always," Mr. Smooth cooed, kissing Daph's hand. My Daphne's hand.
I didn't like this guy already.
His lips brushed my knuckles for only the briefest of moments, but their smoothness and his breathe cooled my skin, threatening to make the hairs stand on end, his eyes never leaving mine.
As always?! What does he mean 'as always'?! Who IS this guy?!
He rose from his bow as Daphne smiled. Smiled!
"Darian, it's great to see you again," she said, her hand still in his. I cleared my throat pointedly and she released it and he took a step back, still not taking his eyes off her. "I can't believe how…" she didn't finish, shaking her head in disbelief.
Darian smiled.
Dang it, why does he have to be so… good looking? How am I supposed to compete with THAT? I mean, he's Monsieur suave, wealthy, handsome European and I'm just Fred Jones from Ohio, I thought bitterly, fighting to keep my emotions from showing.
"Oh, Darian," Daph laughed, throwing her arms around his neck… HUGGING him!!!
With Daph's back turned and Mr. Suave's eyes closed, no doubt just drinking in the moment, I let my jaw hit the ground, the scene before me more horrifying by this than any monster could ever be.
Sorry, this chapter was longer than I expected. I promise the mystery will actually start in the next chapter.