Velma knew that Johnny's desire to change topics owed more to his playful nature than any underlying motivations she would suspect of someone else. While he was certainly more mature than the oafish, man-child he had dated, she was relieved to know that he was the same person she knew. And though all she knew about psychology told her that narcissists are too focused on their own ego to do more than feign attention towards others, she knew well enough that was just a front, an approach, there was more to Johnny than most got to see, like he was a mystery she hadn't cracked yet.
Reaching to the floor, Velma picked up the manilla folder and pulled out photos, copies, and notes she had scribbled. Taking them from her, Johnny turned them in his hands and nodded.
"Pictures we took at the warehouse yesterday, you were able to identify all of these things?" asked Johnny.
"That's the odd part," said Velma, bringing out her magnifying glass to hand to him. This particular one she had purchased last year, owing to her previous one breaking during a chase. Somehow it seemed heavier in her hands than it used to, heavier still as Johnny reached out to take it from her.
Flicking on the cabin light, Johnny looked over the photos and raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be looking for something?"
Taking the magnifying glass back, Velma took a deep breath before looking at a photograph of one of the security guards. At first, there was no noticeable difference, but after a few seconds, strange text mysteriously began to appear on the surface, details which were not only surprising but should have been unknowable.
"Martin Tan. Age: 29. Born in Arcadia, CA. Son of Chen and Linda. Employed by Red Sands for 5 years before being hired by Vogel Zanastar. Dislikes: spicy food. Likes: how his new job makes him feel like he's in a spy film. Favorite album: Elementary Particles by Bluetech." Turning to Johnny, she could see a look of confusion on his face. Once more she handed him the photo and the magnifying glass only for him to shake his head.
"So, you're saying you can see things in your magnifying glass that shouldn't be there and that nobody else can see them but you?" asked Johnny.
"If it were just me, I might just write it off as mental fatigue, paranoia, or some other disorder. But the other day I saw Fred have a conversation with some kind of flying, fairy-thing out of a children's story. Scooby and Shaggy have been sleeping at night, which for them is so far out of the realm of usual activity to be suspicious. Meanwhile, Daphne has seemed on edge, startled by little things, and I she confessed to experiencing a fast heart rate for the past few days. Something weird is happening Johnny, ever since we came out here things have gone from bad to over-a-cliff."
"I talked to Fred about this the other day, but I didn't think it was happening to the rest of you as well. I don't know what's at the heart of whatever my family is involved with, but there is a strange power that manifests around them, a power that has been kept secret for generations. The way I understand it, somehow our secret natures or fighting spirit manifests beside us, granting us powers or something. The word I heard used is Stands, but I don't know for certain about all that, all I know is that what I've experienced is kinda wild."
Placing the photos back in the folder, Velma sat back in her seat and took off her glasses. "When I was a child, I loved stories about myths and monsters and the supernatural. Not because I believed in any of it, but because I enjoyed the contrast of finding something new in the lost and forgotten places of the world. Like, Darwin and the naturalists of the 19th Century, it was less about finding animals that nobody knew existed, it was about developing a new way of looking at the world that others hadn't considered."
"Like a new scientific doo-hickey?"
"A paradigm shift in the scientific method? Yeah, something groundbreaking like that."
"What about that paper you did a couple of years back? The one that got all that attention on the news?"
"You read my rebuttal to Lex Luthor's Metahuman Thesis? It wasn't exactly cable newsworthy."
"Truth be told, I only learned about it when Carl told me about it. Nerd said, 'Hey, you don't mind if I cite your ex-girlfriend's paper in my case do ya?' I didn't know what he was talking about and he gave me a copy. I didn't really understand it, but I liked the mental image of you throwing your papers in Lex Luthor's face."
"Carl cited me in a case? Your lawyer friend?"
"Yeah, he's got this good business deal where he represents a local superhero union out here on the west coast. They're street-level heroes, minor team compared to the Justice League."
"That was one of the points about my rebuttal. That while Luthor was right about his conclusion on the rise of Metahumans, that there would be many copycats, pretenders, and people who want to aspire to powers that would ultimately make the act of keeping track of and recognizing actual metahumans nearly impossible. After that, we kept getting offers of grants from LexCorp but we turned them all down to keep our independence. The latest one was a job offer from StarLabs, which is clean on the surface but I could feel Luthor's influence all over that one."
"So, you were just writing about your experience with all the ghosts and monsters you ran into over the years and how they were all fakes?"
"Pretty much." Letting out a sigh, Velma shifted in her seat and rubbed her knees. "Lex Luthor is not someone I ever wanted to be on the radar of."
"You get nervous thinking about it."
"Well, it's not like when I'm with the gang on a mystery. Because our work is to help people going through extraordinary times in their lives. There is something about that sense of responsibility and altruism that gets us through it. Feels different when the person you're most worried about is yourself. We always did make quite the pair; you're a bit of an egotist and I don't like insecurities that come from being self-aware."
Reaching down, Johnny places his hand atop hers and after a moment her nerves eased, and her tension lifted.
"I know what it's like to get down on yourself. But I've never let those feelings stop me, and neither have you. There's a big difference between being afraid you made the wrong choice and being afraid knowing things will get harder because you made the right one. And you've never been one to shy away from doing what you feel is right, even if it is hard."
"Like when I turned you down?" asked Velma, and with a word Johnny removed his hand from hers to rest against his own leg.
"Yeah."
"I accept your apology for that, by the way."
"Thanks."
"So," said Velma, lifting her magnifying glass and turning it in her hands, "if what you're saying about powers is true? What should I expect from this?"
"Not all the powers manifest themselves in the same way, but, wait a minute. That box of books you had in the hospital. You had a copy of Steel Ball Run Archives, right?"
"Yeah, we have Volume 24, the biographies. You had a relative in that race you know."
"Oh, I'm aware. Now that I think about it, Mama owns one of the secret volumes to that set." Without a word, Johnny turned on the engine, threw the Cadillac in reverse, and started on the road down the hill.
"Secret volume?" asked Velma, quickly throwing on her seat belt as the car took the steep and narrow road at faster speeds than safe or advisable.
"I didn't think much of it at the time, used to think it was just ghost stories about fights in the old west. But with everything that's been happening, I think we need to give that book a second look." Reaching the bottom of the hill, Johnny turned onto the road and sped down the city streets bathed in a soft yellow glow. Just as she looked over to see Johnny was not wearing his seat belt, a pair of ghostly hands apparated out of the night air and buckled it while his hands were firmly on the steering wheel and shift stick.
The whirring of the classic engine and the way it seemed to fly down the city streets was in stark contrast to the usual feel of the steady puttering of the Mystery Machine. For the briefest of instances, she felt like she understood the retro appeal of motor cars and culture. They were the mechanized manifestation of undirected urgency, a physical reality of something primal and inexpressible. In a word, they were just like how Johnny and Fred had described the magical power they called Stands.