Ugh, I had a lot of mistakes in that last chapter, sorry. If you're taking the time to read this story, I think you can write a five second review. Criticism, comments, suggestions, everything's welcome. Sorry, it took so long to update.

"Sorry," I apologized, turning to Velma, Freddie, Shaggy, and a very confused looking Scooby, who's head was so tilted it was a wonder it his neck hadn't snapped. "Fred, Velma, Shaggy, Scooby," I said, motioning to each of them in turn for Darian's benefit. "This is Darian Duval."

Humph, REALLY, I never would've guessed…

"It's an honor to meet you all," Darian said with a heart melting smile. "Your reputation presides yourself," he said to Freddie, turning to him first because he was closest.

Actually, Freddie's right next to me… When did he appear behind my back out of nowhere? I mean, I'm used to it, but usually I notice right away when he appears…

What's THAT supposed to mean? What's my reputation? Is that supposed to be a compliment?

"As does word of your intelligence, Mademoiselle," Darian added to Velma, kissing her hand.

"Jinkies," she blushed, humble and perhaps a little weak-kneed in Duval's presence and gaze.

No, Velma, not you too! Don't fall for it…

He smiled and dipped his head to Shaggy, apparently he couldn't think of any compliments for him.

"Like, hey man."

"And this must be the noble Scooby Doo."

Scoob raised his chin with pride.

"Roble," he agreed.

It's official. I'm on my own here.

"And the bravest hound in the world, I'm sure." Knowing Daph couldn't see me, and not caring if Duval could, I grinned widely.

"Round? Rhere?" Scoob asked with a scowl.

Okay, so only Scooby was on my side, but it was better than nothing. Then again, Scoob would forgive Duval the instant he gave him something to eat…

"Our parents are good friends and we'd visit them every time we came to France…" Daphne said, that voice of hers momentarily making me forget everything else, even Duval.

"I do hope I haven't missed all of your tour, Pierre…"

"No, sir, we have yet to climb the towers," Gautier replied, face expressionless and tone inflectionless as ever, in a way, he reminded me of my dear butler Jenkins.

"Climb? Aw man, there isn't an elevator?" Shaggy whined as Scooby's tail drooped.

"Don't worry," Velma whispered, "I brought Scooby Snax."

I laughed as Scoob's ears perked up.

"Did she just say what I think she just said?" Shaggy asked, eyes shining at the thought.

"Come on, guys…" Velma sighed with a smile.

***

I really, really, REALLY don't like him, I thought with a glare as I watched Duval with Daph. He had his hand on the small of her back. It looked like he was being a gentleman, but I highly doubted that was his reason for being so near Daphne. If I had to watch one more second of this, I would explode in rage and probably kill the Parisian. And if I had to hear her laugh at another one of his jokes…

Thankfully, we reached the roof before my top blew. Breathing deeply, I struggled to make my red face return to its normal coloring before anyone, especially you know who, could see.

I had to smile when I saw Daphne's face. She walked over to the edge and leaned against the wall, gazing at the view of Paris. It was beautiful, there was no denying that, but I still couldn't take my eyes off Daph to see it any longer than a few seconds.

Shaggy and Scooby finally appeared, panting and collapsing. Velma rolled her eyes with a half-smile as she emerged as well. Apparently, her efforts to help them hadn't succeeded.

"Do you ever get used to it, Pierre?" I asked Gautier, standing stiffly a few feet to my left.

He looked at the brilliant lights of Paris, face still, eyes soft.

"Non, mademoiselle, never."

"He is right," Duval agreed in French, walking up next to me.

"Daph, your camera…" Freddie said as Darian was turning to me.

"Oh, thank you," I said, walking to him and accepting it with a small smile before turning back to take pictures.

Fred walked over to Shaggy and Scooby, who were being revived with Scooby Snax by Velma. Scoob snickered as he ate Shaggy's before it could fall into his mouth, as usual, and Freddie told them to get up, knowing half the pictures I took always had at least one of my friends in them. I couldn't help it, it was the first time we'd all been to Paris and I didn't want to forget it. And Velma only ever took pictures of historical this and that that half the time no one had ever heard of.

Who knew how many photos later, we started to head back down. If Duval lays so much as one finger to "help" Daph down the stairs, I swear… But apparently even he knew Daphne's preoccupation with not being perceived as a damsel in distress who needed help just climbing stairs.

Instead, they were engaged in an excruciatingly long conversation, in French. Which meant I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about so I couldn't even slip in a clever comment or remark that would make Daph laugh that laugh of hers, the clear, hearty, rich, enchanting, kind, sweet, beautiful laugh that was the reason sound was invented. Listening to her laugh at something he had said, and not even having the chance to try and top it because I didn't know what he said, was more painful than anything I had felt in a long time.

***

Velma and the boys got in the van and I talked with Darian for a while, agreeing on a place to meet, after we reached the parvis.

"So… what were you two talking about on the way down?" Fred asked as I closed the door, climbed over a sleeping Velma, and slid next to him.

"Just catching up, talking about family, what we've been doing… I haven't seen him since I was… fourteen? Fifteen?" I asked myself, shrugging. "The summer after freshman year."

He just nodded, not taking his eyes off the front window.

"Freddie, what's wrong?"

That snapped him out of his daze. He turned to me.

"Nothing," he said, feigning confusion. "Why would you…?"

"Fred, please," I said, rolling my eyes. "I know you better than you know yourself, I think I can tell when your fuming…"

Daph, if you knew me better than I know myself, you would know EXACTLY why I was fuming, and why when we split up I'm always with you and how I feel about you and…

"Plus you haven't started the van yet," I added, fighting back a smile.

He blinked, startled, and turned the key.

"Freddie, you didn't answer my question…"

Again, I thought, my mind flashing back to that night we had been searching for clues about a witch's ghost. Velma had knowingly asked Freddie why he always paired me with him whenever we split up and when I had pressed him about it later, he never answered because the Hex girls had interrupted us. He'd been so close to saying… something, that night. I didn't know what, but it seemed like…

Whatever he had meant to say, it was the seconds before that I relished now. Those seconds that I could indulge in the idea that Fred might just feel a fraction of the way about me that I did him, indulge in that dream in his presence, tease him about that with a smile and twinkling eyes… Those times where the lines of friendship blurred with those of something more were so rare and few, if only…

"I don't want to talk about it, Daph."

His tone was so harsh, firm, silencing; he rarely, if ever, spoke to me like that. And if he did, he always apologized for it later.

I glared at him, hands on my hips as he tried to back out from the parking space.

"Well, fine, then, Freddie, but don't think you can get away with talking to me like that. Just cause I'm 'danger-prone Daphne' who can't go two weeks without being kidnapped or falling through a trap door doesn't mean I'm some speak only when spoken to, do as your told, never stand up for yourself…"

He sighed, stopping the car and turning to me.

"I'm sorry, Daphne. You know I don't think of you like that. I'm just… not in the mood right now, okay?" he asked as I crossed my arms and refused to look at him. "Please?" he added, turning away from the window for a dangerous amount of time considering he was on the streets of Paris again.

My face softened and I wondered if I was being too hard on him. He was already stressed out and I didn't want to add any stress or guilt to his conscience. Sometimes, I really needed to learn when to shut up. Freddie was my best friend, he wouldn't view my silence as submissive, feminine weakness, he'd know that I would just be trying to respect his privacy, despite my curiosity and worry.

But dang it, Fred Jones, I care about you, too much for my own good. And it's gonna get my heart broken…

"Forgive me, Freddie. I just…" I didn't finish, knowing from his silent, reassuring nod that I didn't need to, and we rode back to the hotel in silence.

***

"Daphne?" I heard the brunette ask me as she lied in her bed.

"Yeah, Velma?" I replied, coming in from our suite's bathroom. The boys were in the room next to us.

Propping her elbow on her pillow and resting her head on her hand, she looked up at me as I sat down on the bed next to hers.

"Who did you first kiss? Or who first kissed you?" she asked; she was Velma, she wasn't going to ask "who was your first kiss," because that's improper grammar.

I half-smiled at the girl who was the closest thing I had to a sister, who was as close to me as a sister.

I got under my covers and held them to my chin, pretending to examine the pattern as I answered.

"Freddie," I admitted. "In the school play…"

"Really?" she asked, sitting up and tilting her head like Scooby did when he was confused. "He was your first?"

"I wasn't allowed to date until I was sixteen, Velma," I reminded her.

"Yes, but weren't you sixteen before even try outs?"

"Velma," I said scoldingly, frowning. "Just because I was finally allowed to date didn't mean I was going to go out with a guy as soon as I could. You know me better than that. Besides, as soon as I did get the lead, I was too busy with the play to even think about boys."

Except for Freddie of course… I nearly blushed at the thought.

"Right," she said sarcastically, smiling, probably knowing my thoughts.

"Watch it, Velma. Or I'll tease you about your first kiss," I said warningly, turning away from Velma to lie on my side.

That shut her up instantly. She didn't even try to stay up all night reading, she just turned off the light and went to sleep.

Velma had known about my feelings for Fred for who knew how long. She'd had a crush on him at one point, but that's all it was, just a crush, temporary feelings that were nothing compared to mine for Jones, and Freddie just wasn't the kind of guy Velma needed. She needed someone to protect her, comfort her, and be there for her, yes, Fred was all of that. But she also needed someone she could talk to for hours, and listening to Velma go on and on about some book, historic event, scientific occurrence, or anything of the sort for more than ten minutes exhausted Freddie. She needed someone who understood her and could make her laugh and forget all about science or math or mysteries, someone who could make her forget about everything but whoever that someone was. Velma deserved a guy like that.

Somehow, as usual, my thoughts turned to Fred again and the last thing I saw before I fall asleep was Freddie Jones's face in my mind, his smoldering, bright, piercing eyes taking my breath away and making me forget everything else but those beyond beautiful, indescribable, blazing, brilliant, endless, perfect, fiery sapphires…

***

Stop it, Daphne! I scolded myself as his face popped into my head again. A face that didn't belong to Freddie, but the face of the boy I knew so long ago who had become a man.

Darian… he was… charming, sweet, polite, hilarious, clever, thoughtful, sensitive, deep, intelligent, romantic, observant, courteous, brave, bold, fearless as Fred… And he was as handsome, if mot more, as Freddie, just in a different way. It was hard to compare the two when they were so drastically different.

Sliding the midnight blue, sleeveless gown over my head. It cascaded down, brushing my calves as it fell to the floor. Resting a hand on one of the thin strips, I examined myself in the mirror.

The dress fit perfectly, the dark blue was covered in silver, glittering specks that sparkled, glinted, and shown, like stars in a night sky.

"Daph, ya done yet?" Fred knocked.

I knew he hated this. My ceaseless shopping exhausted him and his patience. Oh, he'd never say it, but it was obvious. He found it dull and boring because, really, all it meant for him was walking, sitting, carrying bags, and following me around.

"Almost!" I called, knowing the dark purple gown would fit me as well, the exact same dress and size, just in a different color.

Slipping out of the dress, I pulled on my shirt, designer jeans, and purple, double breasted coat.

I opened the door, thrusting a white and a black jacket at Fred, along with both glittering gowns.

"Did you try these on?" he asked, brow furrowing as he wrestled with the already massive pile of clothes.

Usually I showed him after I changed, but I knew he hated this and gave him a few seconds of his life back. Besides, watching Freddie's stunned, awe-struck expression every time I wore a dress only happened once per dress, and I savored every moment of it. I might as well save them for when I would actually wear them. Being Daphne Blake, I couldn't easily wear an expensive, fit-for-the-red-carpet more than once if wherever I was wearing it to had photographers or cameramen. And there were very few times I would wear a dress that elegant, expensive, and "fancy" and not be heading to a televised event.

"Yeah, they fit," I said, taking a few of the clothes from his stack and throwing them over my arm.

My heart wrenching at having to watch him carry so much. I'd protested for years, but Freddie, ever the gentleman, insisted. But I still hated it. It made it look like he was no more than a bag boy to me…

I appreciated that she was trying to make this as short as possible for me, but Daphne had no idea that watching the little fashion show she put on for me was half the reason I helped her shop. I loved to watch her face light up with carefree joy as she discovered, gushed over, tried on, and paraded in new clothes that probably cost more than the mystery machine.

Besides seeing Daph's joy, and seeing her in so many different outfits that all complimented her beauty perfectly, I came because I loved to help her, be there for her in everything and anything and because any second by her side was one of the greatest, most wonderful, full, and content moments of my life. If I could spend every millisecond of my life with her, I would refuse to ever die.

But something was bothering her today. Her face was frowning, worried, troubled, not bright with a joy and bliss as luminescent as the sun despite the beautiful coats, dresses, hats, skirts, blouses, shoes, and everything she found. Seeing her so disturbed made me a worried, reckless mess inside. Though I hid it well, I was probably more bothered by her discomfort than she was by whatever it was that had troubled her in the first place.

"Are you all right, Daphne?" I asked as she put a pair of leather boots back in the box at who knew what number boutique we went to.

"Fine," she looked up, startled, lying through her teeth though no one else would ever know.

I sent her a look that made it clear I didn't believe her for one second. She said nothing, looking back down to put her original shoes on. I respected her privacy, knowing she didn't want to talk about it because she didn't know how insane it drove me.

"We're going to meet Darian for lunch," she said, rising. "Do you mind driving me back to the hotel so I can change?"

"Yeah, sure…" I said, frowning, confused and worried, as I gathered the boxes, bags, and purses.

Despite all that she had bought, she usually bought more at Coolsville's mall, and we were in Paris, her favorite place for fashion in the world. I mean, at least this time I could actually carry everything by myself, but this only proved that she wasn't herself all the more.

Try as I might, I couldn't get that man of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Darian's face, I heard his voice. The only time I didn't was when I saw or heard Freddie, when I felt his smooth hand accidentally brush mine, felt his hand on me, or felt Fred's strong, broad shouldered, muscled body close enough to me that I could feel his warmth, hear his breathing, sense his heart beat.

I rolled my eyes, half-smiling, as Freddie tried to open the door for me. Honestly, Fred, sometimes you take your "be a gentleman" to the extreme… Actually, MOST of the time…

I opened the door for him instead, pushing him forward with my hand on my back.

"Move it, Jones."

He half-smiled too, laughing a deep, rich, heart meltingly warm chuckle in his throat.

"Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am!" he laughed that laugh of his, walking faster as I continued to gently shove him along.

***

"Thanks, Fred," I said, taking my new white jacket from him as he handed it to me. I'd forgotten it in the mystery machine.

"You're wearing that?" he asked with a frown, lip pouting adorably, as Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby walked in the hotel lobby; Freddie had just picked them up from their boat trip down the Seine.

"You don't like it?" I asked, stunned and slightly, rather foolishly and shallowly, hurt. I couldn't help it, I couldn't remember a time when Fred didn't like whatever it was I wore. Velma always said he would think me gorgeous in a potato sack, but I knew that Fred had never seen me that way. He always said I was beautiful, but that was because he was Freddie, sweet, polite, raised to be a gentleman.

"No! It's just that…" he stopped, confused, at a loss for words, being careful as possible to not offend me in any way.

She looked down at her dress as she put on the coat. It was a simple, yet elegant, off the shoulder, smooth, color of the ocean on a bright, cloudless summer day dress that barely fell to the middle of her thigh. Her jacket was longer than the dress. Oh, don't get me wrong, Daph never wore anything revealing, always modest yet stylish. But I hated the idea of Duval seeing Daph at all, naturally I wouldn't want him to see her in a mini-dress, however appropriate.

"Isn't it a bit… short?"

Her face fell and I immediately regretted it.

"No, no, never mind, it's fine. Come on, let's go," I said, gently grabbing her by the wrist.

"No," she said firmly, voice harsh but quiet, stopping in her tracks and refusing to budge. "I should change…" she said, half to herself, tugging down the skirt of her dress, suddenly self-conscious.

"No, Daphne," I insisted, my voice just as firm, louder than hers, insistent as I tenderly grabbed the turned away girl by her shoulders. My hands on them, I looked down, deeply into her eyes. "You look beautiful," I promised solemnly, not so much as blinking, refusing to miss one millisecond of seeing those endless, breathtaking, brilliant, sunlit sapphires.

But suddenly they shone with unshed tears as they burst into a fiery, fierce blue flame full of hatred as she glared at me.

Liar was written all over her face as Daph shoved me away. She didn't believe me. She thought I was just feeling guilty for hurting her, thought I was lying to be polite, make her feel better. And she hated me for it. Daphne still believed that every time I looked at her, I saw the cute girl I had grown up with, not the beautiful, passionate, bold, outspoken, sweet, clever, forgiving, understanding woman she had become.

Daph… I sighed inside. She had no idea how beautiful I really thought she was. She had no idea that each time I told her she was beautiful that I didn't say that just to please her, that I didn't see her as some insecure little girl who needed me to tell her that she was cute. She wasn't. She never had been, and never would be, to me or anyone. She had no idea how I saw her, had never imagined just how much I loved her, just how beautiful she was in my eyes.

What I wouldn't give…

She, apparently forgetting her actual purpose for fighting with me, stomped out of the lobby, heading for the mystery machine, forgetting she had wanted to change.

I let out an exasperated sigh, knowing she was out of earshot, and turned to my three baffled friends.

"Like…" Shaggy started.

"Rat ras rat, Reddie?" Scooby cut him off, head tilted to the side.

"Fred…" Velma started, brow furrowing, taking a step towards me.

"Let's go," I said, my tone making it clear that this conversation was over.

*** Velma was talking about how atmospheric pressure differences cause global air movement to Shaggy and Scooby and they were staring at her with this blank look, eyes glazed over. The brunette sighed, giving up, and Shag's face fell, apologetic, sad he couldn't even pretend like he understood for Velma's sake. Scoob licked her hand, saying "rorry, Relma" as Fred and I neared the table.

"Is Darian here yet?"

"No, I'm afraid he's late," a voice as deep, rich, low, soft, clear, smooth, flowing voice as Freddie's teased, smile in his voice. "Do forgive me, Daphne," Darian apologized, face smooth but dark brown eyes shining.

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…

"Darian," I said, smiling, throwing my arms over his neck as he rested his on my waist.

I glared at the man as he kissed Daph on each cheek. Kissed her!!!

Breathe, Jones, breathe… I tried to calm my fuming, raging self down, cursing my fiery, uncontrollable, unquenchable temper. How DARE he touch her?! How DARE he kiss her?! French greeting or not, he had no right to lay a finger on her, much less his lips!!!

I know, I know, the mystery still hasn't started. This chapter was way longer than I thought it would be. But you really can kill me if you don't see a vampire next chapter. Thanks so much, writingaddict169 and especially Jazzola! I'll try to update by Monday, but I'll be out of town, and away from any computers, for most of the weekend.