A/N: Hello everyone!

Thank you so much for coming to read this story! Honestly, I am having a blast writing this tale for you all-though actually mostly for myself-and I am so excited to begin sharing it with you. This pairing is one that I see almost nothing for throughout the sites I frequent. Yet it is one that I think is very interesting and has a lot of depth, which I hope to capture. The canon of this story is technically within the world of Mystery Incorporated (my favorite Scooby-Doo media), but I took several liberties to merge as many continuities and appearances of these characters as possible. Yes, everyone is over 18, don't worry. So, if you aren't familiar with The Hex Girls, I highly recommend you go out and watch some Scooby-Doo to have a greater grasp on what is happening (or you can look up a wiki, but I think watching some Scooby-Doo is good for the soul these days). Regardless, I wanted to write something close to my heart with a pretty underground ship. And thus, this story was born.

A Warning: While I am publishing chapters, this story is still unfinished and is being written between publishings. So, if there is a lull in updates, you will understand why.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the songs featured in this fanfiction except for one, which was my own creation. Nor do I own the rights to any of the characters, or their likenesses, found within this story. The rights for everything are owned and are the property of Warner-Bros. Entertainment. No money is being made off of this story, nor should it be. All are used for the express purpose of enjoyment, and that is it.

(Due to the inability to embed images in FF, here is the Imgur link to the custom Hex Girls Tour Poster I made specifically for this fic, delete and replace the bolded words: imgur"dot-com slash"6jX6Rpi)

Looking at the dark poster, covered with iconography exclusive to the band and Mystery Machine, Daphne smiled. It had always been a dream of hers to meet the Hex Girls. Now here she was. Standing upon an empty stage in front of thousands of vacant seats, poster in hand. And to think, all she had to do was help them out several times; first in their hometown of Oakhaven, then in Australia, and then finally in her own hometown of Crystal Cove. Twice. The first time being against the Phantom then the second being a Zombie Ska band.

It was all so surreal. Sure, Daphne had redesigned herself once in Crystal Cove, getting the chance to sing with the infamous band as special member Crush. But that was different. That moment in time was different. She had done so in a vain attempt to get past the fleeting longing for Fred as well as to lure the Phantom out. Now? Well, now she was truly touring with them. Singing with them. Spending time with them.

Granted, she wasn't alone. The rest of the Mystery Incorporated gang was with her, playing their own set pieces in practice as openers for the Hex Girls leading up to this night: the first night of the tour. The first show.

It was a lot of fun spending time with everyone before, during, and after practice, though Daphne sometimes longed for those days when she got to exclusively spend her time with Dusk, Luna, and Thorn. Perhaps she could find time, or the words to say, so she could again.

"Hey, Daphne!" A voice calls out.

Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to face the origin of the call. Though, she knew from the always cheerful, leading timbre, who it was. Fred Jones. The man she dreamed of dating, then dated, broke up with, dated again, and finally decided to just remain friends. It was hard. For so long-for so many years-she believed that Fred was the one. The one she'd marry. The one she'd build a family with.

But he wasn't.

In the time she spent with him, dating, she realized that it was nothing like she wanted. Of course, she knew it would be different, but there was something else. Something deeper that screamed at her that it wasn't right. It had taken her some time but she discovered what it was. There was no love in the private conversations and cuddles on the couch. No love lying together in the deep of the night. Fred wasn't the dream she wanted him to be. What she had always thought he would be. It had taken her even longer and several cases-and private conversations with supersleuth Velma Dinkley-to come to another conclusion. She had been in love with the idea, with the thrill of the will-they-won't-they, more than anything else. It wasn't satisfactory. Didn't salve the ache for true romance and love she held deep within her soul.

She knew she needed a break from Fred, hence why she broke up with him. But eventually, she realized that she needed a break from men. At least, in the romantic sense. The more she thought and pondered introspectively, the more she came to realize they never did fill that hole within her. The issue was, though she knew she needed to distance herself from romantic pursuits with men, she didn't know who to go to now. She never labeled herself under any sexual preference, but she couldn't be sure.

Raking through her memories, she tried to find a time when she thought of another woman romantically. Nothing came to mind.

Well, maybe that wasn't truly the case. When she first met Velma there was a soft flutter in her stomach.

Just an upset stomach from earlier that day, she told herself.

Then there was Alice May. Again, flutters.

I…I was just jealous because she tried to take Fred away, that's all. Another lie.

And then, there was Thorn. Sally McKnight. Lead singer of the eco-goth rock trio, The Hex Girls.

She's the lead of the Hex Girls! They're celebrities! Though it was the truth of their fame, it was another lie her mind had convinced her was genuine.

"Everything okay, Daph?" Fred asked. Now that he had finally caught up to her, she was ripped away from her thoughts. A soft yet firm hand resting upon her shoulder.

"Yeah, everything's fine, Freddy." She shrugged off his hand. "Just pre-show jitters."

"Oh come on Daph, we faced monsters scarier than this."

"I know, Freddy. But they all had a mask. Crowds don't. If they don't like your act, then they tell you to your face. Or behind your back. They can be real monsters."

"Oh Daphne," Fred mused. His head shook with a quiet chuckle. "You and I know you can handle a few people in a crowd. You got this."

Normally that would set her straight, give her confidence. Why didn't it now?

"She's right, Fred," A woman's voice-soft as silk with an unmistakable relaxed air-spoke.

Their heads snapped to the source as it slowly neared closer to them. Thorn. She was dressed in the most normal outfit Daphne had seen her in before. It was an outfit that screamed "Hex Girls", with gothic nature, but subtle enough to seem as though she were simply a fan.

Her top was a semi-sheer, long sleeved black lace blouse that showed the intricacy of a dark spider's web. Atop that, a deep, blood reddish-black corset hugged her body. Adorning her legs, draping down, swaying around and clawing to the floor, was a void-black skirt. The ends of it ribbon-like as though it had been cut or torn, with slits between each strand varying in size. The largest, as Daphne noticed, reached her mid thigh, revealing fishnet stockings colored in her signature dark red wine. As she continued to look, she realized that the skirt wasn't torn. Rather that it appeared to have been fashioned with ends like the licks of flame. Around Thorn's neck was a thin black choker, modest and largely lacking any major design, as well as a necklace that has become synonymous with the woman wearing it; a small, bright red pendant of a bat with wings outstretched and curving towards the throat.

Thorn stopped before the two members of Mystery Incorporated, crossing her arms and meeting their gazes with a sly smile.

"Crowds can be a real horror," she said. "We played a show last year where I had a hoarse voice. Some of our fans online went nuts berating our performance. That's not even to mention some of the reception on our latest album."

"But 'Darkly Dreaming Devotion' was amazing! The others won't let me play it in the Mystery Machine anymore," Daphne chimed.

She wouldn't stop listening to it! Fred mouthed.

Thorn chuckled softly. "Thanks, Daphne. My point is: the fans can be terrifying to deal with. They will tear you down."

"Well that seems excessive," Fred muttered.

"Not really. But no matter how horrible the fans can be, it is important to remember that many are here to see you and to support you no matter what. Plus it helps to have others to talk with about how you feel. Dusk, Luna, and I talk about our feelings after every show."

Daphne felt her fears assuage at her words. They soothed her.

"Why don't you join us after tonight's show, Daphne?" Thorn asked, looking directly at the redhead.

Pink shaded Daphne's cheeks. "Oh, I…I couldn't. I'd hate to disturb your guys' ritual like that."

Thorn covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. The sound stuttered Daphne's heart and stole the wind from her lungs. To the redheaded investigator, the sound was worth more than gold, more coveted than the rarest gemstone, and more fulfilling than any conclusion to a mystery solved. It was intoxicating. And new.

"You wouldn't be disturbing us," Thorn said. "Come on, why don't I help you get ready for tonight?"

Daphne turned a glance towards Fred. It wasn't exactly that she sought his permission-she was her own woman and could do what she wished-but she worried Fred could see her fluster. The blonde trap artist met her gaze with a cheerful smile. Then his hand was pressed against her back and he pushed her towards the Hex Girls's lead singer. The suddenness of the nudge sent her off-balance and Daphne toppled into Thorn's arms as they caught her.

"Perhaps we should make sure you don't have any heels for the show," Thorn laughed.

Gently, the Wiccan singer pulled Daphne upright. In heels, the pair were roughly eye level though Thorn was still taller by about an inch. For one moment that felt like several, bluish-violet eyes met green eyes, pupils unconsciously dilating in both sets. Before Daphne knew it, the moment was over and Thorn's hand gripped hers, pulling her along towards the stage exit behind the curtains on the right side of the stage.

Her hand is soft, even with the calluses from playing guitar. Daphne thought. And as she walked, passing through the space Thorn once inhabited, she caught the fading scent of the singer as it lingered in that spot.

Jasmine. And the bite of sharp cherries. Perhaps even fainter, a cool brisk of mint and clove. Jeepers.

Her cheeks grew warm and pink on her alabaster skin. Daphne had often regarded the perfumed scents of other women as nothing more than common nature, yet something stirred within her this time. The question of what was stirring within came and went with the careful tug upon her arm.

She was pulled by Thorn through the backstage. The pace wasn't too fast, but the difference in speed obtained by platform boots and heels was obvious as Daphne stumbled. Thorn, meanwhile, was graceful as a cat prowling and prancing through known alleyways, dodging and evading the jutting hazards which come to block the path with a practiced ease. More than once they passed by workers in dark crew shirts. Several with headsets draped over their ears and atop their heads, whispering commands to the others. One, a small woman of lithe frame approached the pair. The woman had sharp, beautiful features like a fey myth and eyes black and sunken as though she had not slept in days. Her long auburn hair was done in a top bun but countless strands had come loose, giving the woman a crazed look.

"Pardon, Miss McKnight?" The woman said. She stopped a foot away from Thorn and Daphne.

"Grey! I thought you had taken off the first few shows of the tour. What are you doing back?" Thorn asked politely.

"I indeed had taken off, Miss McKnight," she grumbled. "But my apprentice seems to have forgotten all that I taught her and desperately called for me."

Thorn nodded along.

Grey continued. "Laura is greatly behind schedule I fear and I must help her. Miss McKnight, I'm afraid the outfit you requested will not be ready in time for the show tonight."

"Thank you, Grey," Thorn said solemnly. "But when you are finished, you should go home. You shouldn't be here on your vacation."

The costume attendant thanked Thorn with a nod. She waited a second, then left the pair in the not quite silent bustle of the stageworkers.

Thorn stood in place and inhaled deeply. Then relinquished an acute sigh. Her hand rose to her face and rubbed her eyes. For the briefest of moments, Daphne could see the stress behind all Thorn did. Saw how everything weighed upon the woman like walls closing in around her. And each mistake-each problem-that arose pushed the encroaching walls tighter together. Thorn turned to face the member of Mystery Incorporated whose hand she still held. Her smile had returned. Though it contained not the same mirth as before now that Daphne had gotten a glimpse behind the curtain.

"Well, Daphne, it appears that your outfit for tonight's show is currently unavailable, so we'll need to find you something else to wear."

"What?" Daphne asked, bewildered. This had been the first mention of any outfit beyond her classic wardrobe she would be wearing at the show. And it was puzzling to her.

"I was going to walk you to your prep room and show the outfit to you," Thorn started, "but it appears as though that will have to wait. Though it was a beautiful piece…for now it will have to wait. And until Grey and Laura can get the outfit properly prepared and fixed, I'll let you borrow an outfit or two of my own."

The heat in Daphne's cheeks flared hot. Wear one of Thorn's outfits? What for? Was there something wrong with what she normally wore? Her hazed thoughts, clouded by the sudden awareness of that stirring's return within herself, skipped over the plausibility that perhaps what the singer was doing was a simple act of kindness for a friend for a cause she had yet to be told of. Still she flushed, blood rushing to color her cheeks. She was sure that Thorn could see the flustering pink dusting her face. And from the look on the singer's face, she could.

"C'mon, I'll walk you to my room," Thorn laughed softly. With a gentle squeeze upon Daphne's hand, she lightly pulled her along. "We'll get you dressed and ready in there."

When Thorn had turned to again start leading her, Daphne could have sworn she saw a feather dusting of red brushed upon her cheeks.

"Jeepers," she muttered quietly.

Stop it, Blake! She mentally berated herself for acting so foolish. She's your friend and you aren't a child. Get a hold over yourself!

But she could swear Thorn had blushed.

Jeepers, Blake, even you can't be that dull. Use your head! You are a member of Mystery Incorporated. Solving questions that seem complicated is your living. It was the shift in lighting. You just didn't bother to see it until now. That's all it is. Now get a grip!

Perhaps that was right.

"Daphne?" Thorn's voice brought her from thought.

"Wha…" Daphne stiffened. Quickly glancing at her surroundings, she realized they had stopped within Thorn's dressing room.

It was a modest rectangular room with dark wood paneled walls to her left and right-the long ends of the room-that were decorated with darkly themed photos and paintings. Daphne rationalized they were most likely set up by request of the band's manager. Along the wall opposite the door, several small mirrors with lightbulb borders spanned, filling the space between the walls on either end. Beneath that was an equal length of slate gray laminate countertop. Already it was cluttered with a slew of makeups and accessories required to perform at the level the Hex Girls did. Cushioned stools rested beneath, ready to be pulled out for use. Filling out the rest of the room was a rack of clothing-most of which Daphne had never seen before-with several empty hangers, a small dark leather couch that seemed well aged and well maintained, a small fridge, and a small concession table with multiple snacks arrayed on it.

Had she really been so lost in her own thoughts long enough for the walk to already be over? Apparently so.

"Are you okay, Daphne?" Thorn looked at Daphne, eyes wide and worried. She brought a hand up to her face. "You don't look so well. Are you sure you are okay to perform tonight?"

"Sorry, Thorn, I'm just a bit confused."

Thorn pulled her hand away. Though throughout everything, she never let go of Daphne's hand.

"About what?"

"Well, I…" Daphne fumbled for words.

It was difficult for the redhead to hold Thorn's gaze. She felt like she was being interrogated, watched under intense scrutiny. But the singer didn't say anything. She didn't push Daphne either. Thorn wasn't prying for information but was simply worried about the danger-prone sleuth.

"Well, I didn't know about any…outfit," Daphne murmured.

A chuckle slipped from Thorn's lips. "Of course you didn't. It was a surprise after all."

"What is it for? Why do I need a new outfit? And what about the others? Do they have new outfits as well?"

"Daphne…" It was Thorn's turn to be at a loss. "I was hoping to ask if you'd join us again as Crush."

Daphne's eyes went wide, taken aback by the proposition. This is what she had been wanting. Yet, now that it fell into her lap like a wish come true, she was hesitant to take it. Was the genie granting this wish benevolent? Or would it use this wish against her? She couldn't be sure. And she didn't know what to say. Though she wasn't given a chance as Thorn continued, filling the second-long pause as soon as it came.

"When I showed you the outfit, I was going to ask if you'd like to do so. I-we-really liked having you with us and performing. You don't have to do so if you don't want to, Daphne."

"Would it be permanent?" Daphne asked. Her throat tightened, dry.

"Only if you'd want it to be," Thorn said. "I'd never ask you to leave Mystery Inc or the others. But I wanted to give you this because…"

Thorn dropped Daphne's hand and the words fell off into silence. An answer written in the words that were unspoken, now silent and locked in the throat. Though her gentle smile never waned. The air was cold where her hand had been warm. It was as if, in those few seconds where the temperature sought equilibrium, life had been stolen from Daphne. Hesitantly, she awaited Thorn to continue. But she never did.

"I don't know yet, Thorn," Daphne sighed. "I've been with the gang for as long as I can remember, solving mysteries and unmasking villains. It's not so easy to just leave them."

She walked over to the dark leather couch and lowered upon it. She sat tightly, bundled as though trying to fade out of sight. Even though she sat straight-backed, she seemed smaller than she was with her hands clasped together upon her lap, head bowed to stare at them. A moment later, Thorn sat down next to her. Their legs pressed against one another.

Daphne continued. "I do want to get away though. At least for a bit. And I miss being Crush. I miss the time when I could let loose with you and the others, when I could let my feelings free. Even if no one knew what I was talking about."

Quietly, as if meant only for herself, Thorn began to sing. A song Daphne knew all too well.

"Can't wait for you and me

It's time for you to see

Trap of love, snared by desire

Trap of love, burned by your fire

Trap of love, snared by desire…"

Her voice-like silk feathers beating gentle gusts of wind in air-trailed off, letting the last line of the chorus fade away unsung.

"Trap of love, beware the trap of love," Daphne finished. She gave a small, thanking smile to Thorn.

Their eyes met in an understanding. Thorn knew what she was talking about. She understood the feeling Daphne had been describing. And deeper below that kinship, there was Something. A glint in the iris of something deeper. Neither knew what this Something was, yet it was comforting. Like the feeling of warmth radiating from a fireplace while flames play a soundtrack of crackling wood and licking flames, sharing stories and moments with someone else.

"Let's just start with tonight," Daphne stated. "Whatever happens, I want to let the others know. I want to talk to them about this. I can't just abandon them."

Thorn smiled. A kind smile that hid hesitation and worry behind its mirthy exterior. She nodded. "If that's so, then we'd better not waste any more time. We still need to find an outfit for you to wear tonight."

She rose from the couch and stood before Daphne, looking her over before taking both of her hands into her own and pulling the purple dressed woman to her feet. Turning and taking a step and a half they approached the clothing rack. Most of the garments hanging there were in shades of dark grays, blacks, crimsons, and a sparse handful of violets and whites. All of them gothic and victorian in design and style. Not that Daphne minded much. She already knew the bulk of how Thorn dressed as she had once before masqueraded as the singer and could tell even from her regular street attire. Now she would wear the clothes again. Though this time there was no looming monster mystery to be solved or a masked villain to be captured. Even though Thorn was slightly taller than Daphne, their body types were nearly identical-slim and petite with hourglass figures accentuating their natural beauty-and it opened more choices up to the redhead.

Daphne's hand rifled through the various articles. Each one enticed, but none called out. She had a sense for fashion-a sixth sense, if it could be called that-but it applied not as much for Thorn's style of dress as it did for her more minimalistic, modern style. The two were night and day. To Daphne, that was part of the allure and why she liked the singer and band's style. Even if it wasn't something she would seek to wear out on the regular.

"After the show tonight, I'd like to ask you something." Thorn's voice was acute. And at first, Daphne was unsure if she had really heard it. But the warm hand that came to brush her bicep told her otherwise. "Daphne?"

"Before or after the talk with the others?"

"Before. Unless you'd prefer I ask after all of us talk."

Daphne chuckled. "That depends on what you are going to ask."

"You'll have to wait."

Daphne cocked her head quizzically. She was unsure exactly what Thorn would ask her, but her heart hammered in her chest all the same. A dull th-thump th-thump th-thump th-thump beating against her rib's cage and echoing loudly in her ears. Too many thoughts, too many ideas crashed through her. Too many possibilities and too many fantasies. In a last ditch effort to clear herself of the thoughts she had acquired, Daphne randomly selected an outfit from the rack. She turned and presented the choice to Thorn, who looked at the outfit with a wicked grin.

"Bold choice," Thorn purred. "I like it."

Songs featured in this chapter:

Trap of Love - The Hex Girls & Crush (from Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated, Season 1 Episode 7 "In Fear of the Phantom")

Hex Girls Tour Poster made by RiasSenpaiBae (me)