Author's Note: Because I suddenly wondered if there might be an actual explanation for the group never finding anything of a definitely supernatural nature…
*Three, two, one-,* she thought.
"Okay, gang, let's split up!" Fred ordered, looking around at the near pitch-black, decaying Southern mansion's interior where Mystery, Inc. was investigating their latest case, the Something of the Something Something.
Nodding with various expressions upon their faces which consisted of amiable idiocy (Shaggy), fearful worry (Scooby), cool determination (Daphne), and eager geekiness (Velma), all of them save for the hippie and his dog separated to explore on their own the many dark, ominous corridors and rooms of the mansion. Clumping off in her sensible flats into a particular hallway, Velma waited until she was sure everyone else was out of sight.
Then, this full-figured girl reached under her tight-fitting orange turtleneck sweater with both hands all the way up to her impressive bosom. Pulling out a wooden stake and a hand crossbow from in there, her sweater abruptly hung loose around the young lady's much smaller chest region now that her bra was no longer stuffed full with weaponry.
Holding her armaments ready, Velma concentrated hard with her enhanced senses, mutually of the physical and magical kind. Ahhhh…two vamps and a F'yarl demon in the basement, just what she'd been expecting.
Moving soundlessly with blurring speed, Velma dashed away to find the nearest stairs leading downwards.
About an hour later, to the astonishment of nearly all there, the villain in his crudely-sewn costume had been unmasked as Mr. What's-His-Name who'd then bitterly delivered his parting line directed at those meddling kids right before being hauled off by the cops to be booked on assorted charges.
At the back of their small group, Velma tried to think of how many times it was now, some human crook unwittingly used by demons to cover up their own unholy crimes. Well, as long as it was necessary, the Slayer would work with equal secrecy to take down those monsters so that her friends would stay safe and equally unaware of the supernatural world—
A hand unexpectedly brushed something off Velma's shoulder. Keeping her lightning-fast reactions under control so as not to break every bone of whoever had just touched the warrior woman without warning, Velma turned her head to see Shaggy beaming at her.
"Hey, Dinkley, you had a little dust there," the goateed teenager pointed out, indicating with his bearded chin at Velma's now-cleaned shoulder.
"What?" Velma said, quizzically glancing at that portion of her sweater where Shaggy had put his hand. Oh, right, the second vamp who'd gotten staked earlier tonight; that was all what was left of him.
Velma looked back at Shaggy who seemed now more confused than usual. The brunette girl tried to think what might be wrong- Ooops.
Gritting her teeth, Velma still managed a wide smile at Shaggy while then declaring what she'd become really fed-up with, "Jinkies! Thanks, Shaggy!"
Brightening up now that things were back to normal, Shaggy wandered off with Scoob, Fred and Daphne back to the Mystery Machine and their next case. Velma followed after, consoling herself with at least she hadn't had to say the other damn catchphrase anytime lately.
She was the Slayer, after all. Glasses or no glasses with clear lenses, her eyes were perfect.