Sponge: Thank you for reading and for your kind reviews! I truly appreciate it. Let's get on with this week's chapter! Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Scooby Doo characters. They belong to Cartoon Network, Warner Brothers, and Hanna Barbera

Chapter 8: You Don't Know Her

"Okay, I officially no longer think this is a coincidence," Shaggy whispered.

Velma rolled her eyes. "Did you ever?"

They were back in the tasting room at the winery. Officer Johnson had called in a few of his fellow police officers and they were combing the area around the scarecrow – Harold. The gang and the other students had been instructed to wait inside. Gary was pacing while Dylan and Brenda sat together on a bench near the window. Mai Le was perched on a stool at the tasting bar, drumming her fingertips on the wooden counter. The gang had huddled near the far wall, quietly discussing what had occurred that morning.

"Raggy's right," Scooby agreed stoutly. "Rit's not a roincidence."

"I hate to say it," Nova sighed. "But I have to agree. First Scooby and I found that scarecrow in the vineyard last night, then Velma discovered a story written about it in her book?"

"It's not my book," Velma pointed out.

"Plus," Shaggy went on, talking over her. "Like, the farmer in the story who Harold attacks is named Ethan, and then a real guy named Ethan disappears the next day? And the scarecrow is wearing his clothes!"

"Rethan was turned rinto a rarecrow!" Scooby yelped.

Fred shook his head. "Okay, hold on a minute. I admit there's something fishy going on, but come on Scoob. A person can't turn into a scarecrow."

"Like, he did in the story!" Shaggy pointed out.

Velma rolled her eyes again. "Shaggy, it's just an urban legend. It's not real. When have any of the so-called supernatural things we've investigated ever turned out to be products of actual hauntings? Do you remember high school? Do you remember last summer?"

Shaggy folded his arms, scowling. Last summer the gang had traveled to Louisiana with Shaggy to visit some of his relatives. He had been adamant that the ghost of his ancestor was haunting the homestead, but it had turned out to just be a man in a mask. "Whatever," he said. "But Fred and Scooby are right. Something weird is going on."

"It is," Daphne agreed. "But what can we do about it?"

Velma frowned thoughtfully, reaching into her messenger bag to retrieve the book. She opened it to the story of Harold, and noticed Ben's phone number on the inside cover. She felt a jolt of excitement. "I think we should call Ben," she announced.

Shaggy shot her a dark look. That was the last thing he wanted. "Like what's the point of that?"

Velma glared at him irritably. "He asked me to call him if we discovered anything," she reminded him.

Shaggy rolled his eyes. "What did we discover, Velma? That the book is haunted and it's writing scary stories all by itself?" His tone was full of biting sarcasm, but he did slightly believe what he was saying.

Velma ignored him and took out her phone, punching in Ben's number. "Voicemail," she announced to the gang after waiting a few seconds. Shaggy turned away, still fuming. Was she doing this on purpose? It seemed like she was reaching out to Ben in order to deliberately bother Shaggy. Which he supposed he didn't have a right to care about. But still. It just seemed cruel.

"Hi Ben," Velma said into the phone. "It's Velma Dinkley – I don't know if you remember, but we met last night at the Clam Cabin and then went to the Ravencroft House and found the Book of the Dead?" She was talking fast, a sure sign of nervous energy. Shaggy scowled again.

"Um, anyway," Velma continued, her cheeks tinging pink. "You asked me to call you if I discovered anything about the book. And…well, something quite interesting has happened. Could you meet us at our rental place this afternoon to discuss it?" She gave him the beach house's address and hung up the phone just as Officer Johnson and his colleagues arrived.

"All right," he said to the teens. "You all are free to go. We weren't able to track down any solid evidence, but we'll keep searching for your friend. We'll let you know if he turns up."

"Are you sure there's nothing more we can do to help?" asked Fred.

Johnson just gave him a withering look. "You've done plenty," he said drily. "But this is a matter of police business. I say again: we will let you know if your friend turns up."

Fred looked ready to protest, but Gary put a stilling hand on his arm.

"Thanks, Officer," he said.

"Would you be able to give us a ride to where we're staying?" Velma asked Officer Johnson, eyes on her phone screen. "Ben just texted me."

"That was quick," Nova remarked.

Unable to help himself, Shaggy looked over Velma's shoulder at the text message.

Ben: Got your voicemail, Velma! Apologies, I'm unable to speak on the phone at the moment – texting is better just now. Of course I remember you, darling. [winking emoji] I'm eager to hear what you've discovered! When's a good time to meet at your place?

Shaggy seethed, feeling as though his blood was boiling in his veins. He knew he shouldn't be feeling all this rage and jealousy – they'd been broken up since last fall for goodness sake. But he was feeling it regardless.

As Velma texted Ben that they were on their way back to the beach house now and he could meet them there, Shaggy looked away to see Mai Le walking across the tasting room for the exit, and an impulse grabbed him.

"Hey, Mai Le," he called. "Like what are you doing tonight?"

Brenda, Dylan, and Gary had already left the building, so it was only the gang whose heads swiveled slowly in Shaggy's direction at this question. Scooby gaped at him. What did he think he was doing?

"Um…" Mai Le replied shyly, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "I don't think I have any plans."

"You wanna go out?" Shaggy asked. "I'll take you to dinner. Just the two of us."

Shaggy was vaguely aware of the looks of shock and disbelief on his friends' faces – Daphne's eyes had grown as wide as saucers, and Scooby's mouth had actually dropped open. But the only reaction he fully clocked was Velma's. Her aghast expression left him feeling quite smug.

Mai Le's response was elated. "Oh, yes! That sounds wonderful – I'd love to go to dinner with you tonight!"

"Great," Shaggy smiled. "Do you have any recommendations? I'll eat like, just about anything."

"The Bloody Stake is pretty good," Mai Le suggested, eyes sparkling in excitement. "They've got this amazing appetizer called Finger Fries."

Shaggy nodded, flashing her another smile. "Sounds great." He crossed the room and handed her his phone. "Put your number in and I'll text you. Like is six p.m. okay?"

"Definitely!" Mai Le agreed, grinning widely. She quickly punched her number into his contacts, and handed his phone back. "See you tonight!" With one more dazzling smile, she glided out the door.

Shaggy's heart was racing with adrenaline. It had been a long time since he'd asked out a girl. It was nice to know he still had some charisma. But more than that was the rush of doing something he knew was extremely uncool – asking out another girl right in front of his ex.

"Raggy," Scooby whispered. "Rhat do you rink rou're doing?"

Shaggy ignored him, though he knew Scooby had a point. Velma was trying to seem aloof, but he could tell she was offended and a bit crestfallen. For a minute, he felt bad. But then he remembered Ben, and his guilt dissipated.

Velma didn't speak to anyone in the squad car on the way back to the beach house. She'd buried herself in the Book of the Dead, even though the only story in there was the one about Harold. No one else spoke either, all sitting in uncomfortable silence that Officer Johnson didn't acknowledge. Daphne was raging. She was champing at the bit to give him a piece of her mind, but she didn't want to do it in front of Velma – or Officer Johnson, for that matter. She still didn't want to take sides between her friends, but she needed Shaggy to know that she did not approve of what he'd done at the winery.

When they arrived back at the beach house, they found a note from Brad and Judy saying that they were at the beach with Ricky and Cassidy, and inviting the gang to a picnic lunch that afternoon. They had some time before Ben arrived, so Velma went to her room to change into beachier clothes. As soon as she was out of earshot, Daphne finally let Shaggy have it.

"You are unbelievable, do you know that?" she snarled, rounding on him. Her voice was so aggressive it caused both of the dogs to flinch.

Shaggy held up his hands defensively. "Whoa," he said, honestly surprised. Daphne was always the peacemaker – he didn't think she'd jump down his throat like this.

"I can't believe you asked out Mai Le right in front of Velma!" Daphne went on, jabbing an accusing finger into Shaggy's chest. "What is wrong with you?"

Shaggy scoffed incredulously. "Like are you kidding me? Have you seen the way she acts around Ben Ravencroft?"

"I already talked to her about that," Daphne told him. "I didn't think I'd have to talk to you about this behavior too."

Shaggy threw up his hands. "Like what do you want from me, Daph? Velma and I broke up – if she can date and flirt with other people, then so can I."

Daphne put her hands on her hips. "That doesn't mean either of you should be cruel about it."

A sudden knock on the front door made everyone stop short. They could see Ben's silhouette through the frosted glass.

Fred, who hadn't said anything during the entire exchange (because seriously, what was he supposed to say?) went to answer the door. "Hi Ben, come on in," he said, just as Velma stampeded back down the hall. She now wore red cotton shorts over a modest one-piece swimsuit. The Book of the Dead was clutched in her hands and her eyes were shining with anticipation. There was no indication that she'd heard any of the preceding conversation.

Shaggy rolled his eyes and took a seat at the kitchen table. Daphne glared at him, but he ignored her.

"Thank you," Ben said politely, walking through the doorway and smiling at Velma. "I was glad to get your call this morning, Velma. Mind telling me what you found?"

"I'd be happy to," Velma replied, proudly opening the book to display the story of Harold.

Ben's brow furrowed. "What is this?" he asked, taking the book from her.

Excitedly, Velma explained how she'd woken up that morning to discover the story written in the book, how it turned out that their new friend Ethan was missing, and how it appeared that there was really a scarecrow named Harold. "Obviously, the scarecrow can't actually be responsible for his disappearance," Velma finished. "But we think there must be a connection somehow." She grinned at Ben proudly, only to discover that his face had fallen significantly since he'd first arrived.

He was silent for a long time, apparently wrestling with his thoughts and trying to figure out what to say. "So…" he said at last. "You wrote it down in the book?"

"No, no," Velma assured him. "It appeared in the book overnight. It was blank when I went to bed the night before and then in the morning…" She broke off. The look on Ben's face indicated that he didn't believe her.

"I… don't understand how this happened," he said slowly. "This is an heirloom. It belonged to my ancestor. And then I lend it to you, and the next time I see it, it's been…defaced." He looked up at her, eyes burning with disappointment. "I trusted you, Velma."

It was like a slap in the face. "I…I didn't…" she stammered.

"None of us wrote in this book," Daphne told him.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "We would never do that."

But their protestations fell on unhearing ears. Ben sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's one thing to damage someone else's property," he muttered. "But then to blatantly lie about it…"

"I'm telling you, that's not what happened!" Fred exclaimed.

Ben ignored him, still looking at Velma. "You were so intrigued by how Sarah Ravencroft wrote stories, you thought you'd do it yourself, did you? Take advantage of my ancestor's legacy to construct a mystery for you to solve?"

Velma was speechless, standing frozen in place, unable to process what Ben was accusing them of. Accusing her of.

"Of course not!" Daphne cried.

"What else am I supposed to believe?" Ben asked angrily, turning to look at her. "That the spirit of Sarah Ravencroft rose from the dead to write this story? I don't know why I ever trusted any of you." Ben spoke directly to Velma now, his face contorted with outrage.

For whatever reason, this was the last straw for Shaggy. "Hey!" he shouted, standing up from the table. "Like back off, man. If you think Velma had anything to do with what happened to your book, then you don't know her at all."

Velma broke through the fog of shock enough to register that Shaggy was defending her.

Ben narrowed his eyes at Shaggy, then gave Velma a sidelong glance. "You're right," he murmured. "I don't."

With that, he tucked the Book of the Dead under his arm and stalked out the door.

The gang stood in stunned silence for several minutes, reeling from Ben's accusations. They'd been assigned many unflattering adjectives in their years as mystery solvers – "annoying," "nosy," and of course, "meddling" among them. But "untrustworthy" was a first.

Daphne glanced over at Velma, who was standing stock still and staring at the door. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Velma was silent for a few more moments. Then, she took a deep breath and faced Daphne. "So," she said. "Are we ready to go meet the others?"

x.X.x

Velma didn't really want to go to the beach, of course. She couldn't believe that Ben would think her so duplicitous. It hurt her more than she could say. She would have preferred to stay at the house and wallow, but she needed a distraction from her bruised feelings. She could feel bad about herself later.

Since the beach was only ten yards from the front porch, they were able to find the adults easily. That and the fact that there were hardly any other people on the beach. (Seriously, Velma thought. Where are the tourists?)

The adults had set up a large umbrella and multiple blankets and towels for everyone to sit on, and had packed a cooler full of food and beverages. The picnic lunch provided a welcome and comforting distraction for the gang. As they ate, the adults regaled them with tales of their own high school days, with some of the more outrageous tales eliciting genuine laughter from the gang. It certainly lightened the mood, at least for a while.

Eventually, Brad and Ricky got out some boogie boards, while Judy and Cassidy decided to go for a short walk. They invited the dogs along. Nova accepted but Scooby politely declined, wanting to stay with Shaggy and finish eating. Velma pulled a thick book from her messenger bag, and Daphne moved her towel into the sun.

"I think I might catch some rays," she told the others. "Freddie, want to keep me company?"

"Of course," Fred replied, following her out from under the shade of the umbrella. Daphne sat upright on her towel, squeezing sunscreen into her hand. She had shed her beachy sundress to reveal a purple flowered bikini. Fred was having a hard time not staring at her.

"I can't believe Ben said all those awful things about us," he said at last, in an effort to think about something else besides the alluring sight of Daphne in a bikini. "What reasons could we have given him to distrust us?"

Daphne shrugged, lathering her arms with sun lotion. "Well, you and I know that we're all dependable and reliable. But Ben is right – he doesn't really know us at all. And we don't really know him either." She decided not to remind Fred that she had pointed out this exact thing last night. It wouldn't do any good to say I told you so. She went on. "I'm not trying to defend him. I think it's horrible the way he spoke to us – especially Velma. But…well, if you'd given a bunch of students a blank book and the next time you saw it, someone had written in it, wouldn't you think they had done it?"

Fred frowned. "I don't know," he admitted. Fred was a pretty trusting guy – sometimes, he knew, to a fault. He'd certainly misplaced his trust in people before. But he had also written them off unfairly in the past as well. He'd been exceedingly suspicious of Ricky and Cassidy when they'd first met, but now two years later, here they were, all on vacation together. He glanced out at the ocean to where Ricky and Brad were calling out to each other on their boogie boards. He looked back at Daphne just as she'd started rubbing lotion on her legs. Fred grew hot, and not just from the sun.

"Will you get my back?" Daphne asked him, handing over the bottle of sunscreen and turning over on her stomach.

Fred was glad Daphne had laid face down so she couldn't see how red he was sure his face had gotten. It was incredible the effect she still had on him after all these years.

He squeezed lotion into the palm of his hand and began to rub it into Daphne's shoulder blades. It was impossible to remember what they'd been talking about as his hands moved over her smooth skin. His entire world had narrowed to just his hands on her back.

Daphne closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Fred rubbing sunscreen onto her shoulders. She could hear Brad and Ricky laughing from the ocean. "I think it's really nice that Brad, Judy, Ricky, and Cassidy are still so close after all this time," she murmured.

Fred came back to earth. "Uh, yeah," he agreed, clearing his throat. "Do you think the gang will all still be that close in twenty years?"

Daphne sighed. She had no doubt that she and Fred would be. There wasn't a force big enough to tear her apart from him. But as for the others… "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "I mean, if this war between Shaggy and Velma keeps going on, it's hard to say."

Fred glanced over at the umbrella. Velma was still reading her book and Shaggy and Scooby were polishing off the last of their large lunches. "Well," he said ruefully. "They seem to be okay just now." He moved his hand down the back of Daphne's arm, catching her hand with his. "And we're okay."

Daphne smiled, sitting up to face him. "We're always okay," she promised him.

They leaned forward and kissed softly under the bright summer sun.

x.X.x

"Rye think I'm going ro go ratch up with Rova," Scooby said. He had just gulped down the last of his lunch, and Shaggy wasn't far behind. "Is that rokay?"

"Like of course that's okay, Scoob," Shaggy replied around a mouthful of sandwich.

Scooby looked at him, then meaningfully at Velma before trotting down the beach to catch up with Nova, Judy, and Cassidy.

Shaggy swallowed his sandwich, then looked back over at Velma. She was reading a long book, and it was hard to tell if she was just absorbed in it, or if she was pointedly ignoring him. Shaggy was a little afraid to find out, but he knew he really ought to bury the hatchet. Especially after everything had happened with Ben earlier that afternoon. He knew that was what Scooby's pointed look was about. As annoyed as he was by the whole situation – and admittedly, still a bit wounded from the break up – he didn't like to see Velma hurting.

He cleared his throat. "So uh," he started, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "Whatcha reading?" He felt it was an innocuous enough question.

Velma flitted her eyes over to him, then back at her book. "Have you ever heard of Lise Meitner?"

Shaggy hadn't.

"She was a physicist," Velma told him. "Albert Einstein called her the 'German Marie Curie.' She discovered the element protactinium and nuclear fission, but she wasn't awarded the Nobel prize for the latter – that honor went exclusively to her collaborator Otto Hahn. A man." She gestured with the book. "This is her biography."

Shaggy nodded. He had never heard of protactinium before, and was only vaguely aware of what nuclear fission was. "Sounds interesting," he said.

Velma chuckled ruefully. "No it doesn't," she replied, still looking at the book.

Shaggy shrugged. "Well sure, not to me," he agreed. "But to you."

Velma allowed herself a small smile.

They sat in silence for a little while until Shaggy cleared his throat again.

"You know Ben is a bag of dicks, right?"

Velma stiffened. She didn't know how to respond to that. Luckily, Shaggy kept talking.

"I mean it. It was really shitty, like, the way he talked to you. You didn't deserve that, especially not after you helped him find that stupid journal in the first place."

Velma finally looked up from her book to glance over at Shaggy. He wasn't looking at her, but was instead staring resolutely forward towards the crashing waves on the sand.

"I don't know how that story got in the book," he continued. "But I know you didn't write it. And if he doesn't know that, then…like he just sucks."

Velma bit her lip, astonished to find that she felt a little better. Was it because hearing this verbal abuse against Ben made her feel vindicated? Or was it because Shaggy was the one who was saying it?

Again, she was lost for words, so she chose the simplest response she could think of. "Thanks," she said quietly.

Shaggy hadn't meant to get himself all worked up about Ben. He was feeling a little warm now, both from the embarrassment and from the sun that was starting to shift its rays under the umbrella. "Zoinks it's hot," he murmured, moving to yank off his t-shirt.

Velma's eyes widened and she quickly averted her gaze back to her book. But she didn't take in anything on its pages and in fact, kept peeking over the edge to glance at Shaggy. She hadn't seen him with his shirt off since they'd broken up, and she was a little surprised to see that he was indeed more well-built than he had been in high school. Her eyes followed the thin smattering of dark hair that traveled from his chest down his stomach, where it tapered off into a thin trail that led beneath his swim trunks. Feeling her cheeks heat up again, Velma looked away once more. But she couldn't keep her eyes off him for long.

Her gaze caught something on his side. Another tattoo?

"I uh…" she said softly. "I didn't notice that yesterday."

Shaggy looked over at her. "Notice what?"

She pointed. He was too far away for her to accidentally graze his skin as she'd done last night, and for that she was grateful. Or was she? "That tattoo," she replied. "On your…on your ribs."

Shaggy raised his arm slightly and looked down. "Oh," he said. "Right." He blushed, embarrassed.

Velma was confused. Why was he embarrassed about this tattoo? It looked like music notes on a staff. She could read music, but it was hard to tell what the notes were supposed to be from this angle. "What song is it?" she asked.

Shaggy's face turned redder. "Um…" he said, stalling for time.

At that moment, Velma's phone, which had been lying on the towel beside her, buzzed incessantly. Both of them looked down at it, then Velma reached out to pick it up. Her face blanched and her jaw slackened.

"Uh…jinkies." She glanced up at Shaggy. "It's Ben."

Ire rose in Shaggy. "Like don't answer it," he told her.

She answered it. "Ben?"

"Velma." His voice was contrite and a little panicked. "I owe you an apology. You and your friends. I should never have spoken to you that way earlier. I believe you now."

Velma blinked, confused. "Believe us?" she said slowly. "About what?"

"The book," Ben replied. "Another story's been written in it."

Velma's breath caught. "What do you mean?" she whispered. "Who's it about?"

There was a brief moment of silence from the other end of the line. Then, Ben said quietly. "Do you and your friends know anyone by the name of Gary?"

Sponge: Thanks again for reading! I'll be back next week - in the meantime, reviews are appreciated!