"Do you want to help or steal dough?" she questioned him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "What with Shaggy and Scooby’s ‘taste tests’ I’m surprised there’s any left." In the corner, Scooby giggled, his head covered in loose flour. Shaggy had left to pick up Mary Jane at the bus station. His canine pal, usually at his side, had stayed behind as he disliked the noisy, crowded terminal. That, and he felt he was badly needed to conduct some more of the aforementioned taste tests.

"Help," Ethan replied, reaching out and placing one of his hands over her small one as she punched out another cookie. At the other corner, Daphne looked on. Considering how reserved the female half of this couple was, they really were pretty "gushy."

"Oh, wait," Velma stopped Ethan, who was about to lift the cookie cutter out of the rolled dough. "It’s much easier if you press all the cutters you are going to use in first, then pull the excess away all at once."

"That’s my Velma— always practical," Ethan said, leaving the cutter and reaching for another out of a large bag that Daphne had brought. "Hey!" he announced, surprised at the cutter that his hand came away with. "This one’s shaped like a Scooby Snack!" At the immediate sound of the words, the treat’s namesake began leaping about the kitchen, wagging his tail enthusiastically and barking out all manner of happy exclamations.

"Don’t worry, we see you Scooby," Daphne assured him. "We’re baking plenty of these just for you."

"Ro roy! Ro roy!" Scooby voiced his overwhelming approval.

"That cookie cutter was new this year," Daphne explained to Ethan, who still held it. "If you look around in there there’s some other ones—Scooby, his dog tag... they came in a whole set." Following the Spooky Island case, myriads of merchandise detailing the famous mystery-solving team had hit the market, mostly items that centered around the adorable Scooby.

"What about the rest of the gang?" Ethan asked.

"No such luck," Velma told him, her monotone delivery hinting at an annoyance that really wasn’t there. Appreciation for her work was one thing—mass merchandising another. Velma wasn’t one to cry herself to sleep over not being on a toothbrush. Neither, for that matter, were Daphne or Shaggy, and if Fred was upset by it he never let on. Interest in his book had soared after the Spooky Island incident, and the new publicity for it was enough to keep him happy.

"But what if I want a Velma-cookie?" Ethan questioned the room in general.

"A Velma-cookie?" his girlfriend repeated, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

"I guess you’ll just have to make it yourself," Daphne suggested.

"Okay," Ethan accepted easily, picking up a knife and sprinkling it with some extra flour. An over-obvious whine interrupted his first cut. "Don’t worry, Scoobs," he said over his shoulder. "We haven’t given up on your Snacks." Scooby heaved a sigh of relief.

"What’s up, Scoob?" Freddy asked the Dane, hearing the dog’s heavy breath as he entered the kitchen. His damp blond hair and soap-clean scent told of his freshly-showered state. Despite the fact that he was addressing Scooby, his eyes immediately locked on Daphne at her place across the room, and he could feel his heart practically jump and commence speeding away in his chest. It happened every time he saw her now, just like it had back when they were first dating. Surely she’d noticed how differently he’d been acting around her lately—maybe that was all there was to that ‘radar’ Ethan had been informing him of earlier.

"Rhey’re raking re Rooby Racks!" Scooby told him, tail thumping.

"Not exactly real Scooby Snacks," Daphne corrected. "They’re gingerbread cookies in the shape of them." This meant very little to the dog in question—he loved anything edible, after all.

"Let’s see here," Freddy said, moving over to check out the proceedings at the flour-coated counters. On his way to Daphne’s station, he couldn’t help but notice the distinctly non-Snack shape that Ethan was just finishing.

"I hate to tell you this, Eth," he joked, "but that does not look like a Scooby Snack."

"I should hope not," Velma deadpanned with a little more emphasis than usual.

Daphne giggled. "There aren’t any cookie cutters of the gang, so Ethan is making his own... umm... Velma cookie."

Fred let out a short laugh, then looked from the subject to her culinary counterpart. "Nice resemblance," he smiled.

"Yeah... to an ancient Cro-Magnon fertility goddess," Velma rejoined.

Ethan remembered pictures of those particular statues from his ancient history textbooks in high school—mainly because of the immature jokes that had arisen from them by some of the guys. "It’s not that bad," he defended lightly.

This was actually true, and Velma well knew it, though she still had to dish Ethan one back for his earlier triumph in their banter war and figured she may as well stick with her cave-man theme. "Jinkies, I don’t know whether to be flattered or what."

"Hey, I wanna try," Fred announced, coming up next to Daphne and looking over her unfinished roll of dough.

"Me, too," Daphne agreed, getting an extra knife out for Fred. She’d helped him unpack and organize this things after the move, and knew her way around the house as well as he did. The couple worked in silence for several moments, until she looked over to see his progress. "Freddy!" she immediately exclaimed.

"What?" Fred asked innocently.

"I don’t really stand like that! I look like I’m going to dislocate a hip!" Fred and Velma bit their lips, trying to stifle laughs. Even so, some escaped. "Well, fine!" she finished, mock-pouting. Hurriedly she produced a cookie of her own, which her boyfriend viewed in disbelief.

"You made me all scrawny!" he spluttered. Daph grinned at him, then popped up on tiptoe to give him a surprise kiss. A moment later they both set to work adjusting their cookies.

Velma, meanwhile, was showing her own masterpiece off to its model, Ethan. "And I’m totally buffed out," he noted aloud, satisfaction in his voice. "Check out those biceps." He knew she had exaggerated matters a bit in that department— but he wasn’t going to correct her. "Yeah, I’m a stud," he jokingly bragged, to which Velma shot him a curved-mouth look. This was not to say that she disagreed with his statement— to her Ethan really was quite the "stud."

"We should make some of these for Shaggy and Mary Jane," Daphne suggested. "Hey, when do you think they might get here?"

Fred consulted his watch. "If the bus was on time they should be on their way home by now. The station isn’t that far."

This announcement made, the room dissolved into light conversation as its occupants finished up with their baking efforts. After finishing some very good representations of the remaining couple and punching out numerous Scooby Snacks, the little gang sat back to sip more hot cider and enjoy the aroma of the baking cookies. Several sheets were already done and cooled, but they held off eating them until their absent friends arrived. Poor Scooby was practically salivating in tortured anticipation.

Thankfully, he did not have to wait long, and the ring of the front doorbell brought him bounding and scurrying to reply. Not only was the promise of cookie-eating eminent, but Scooby was looking forward to seeing Mary Jane again. Though he had initially been jealous of the new person in Shaggy’s life, he found that he genuinely liked the pretty, nature-loving girl, and came to accept that it was right for Shaggy to want a female companion. His best pal had also become more careful about not excluding Scooby when they were altogether, and his dog had learned that Shaggy wanting some time just with his girlfriend did not mean he didn’t love him anymore. On a smaller scale, Mary Jane’s use of allergy medicine had also helped things along. Forgiving as he was, Scooby really wasn’t keen on being sneezed on.

"Hey guys!" Shaggy called out as his friends migrated from the kitchen to greet the new arrival. "Like, look who I found hanging around the bus station!"

"Ri, Rary Rane!" Scoob greeted her happily, sidling up next to the blonde girl.

"Hi, Scooby!" she returned with just as much enthusiasm, bending down to scratch the dog behind his ears. "Hi guys!" she greeted the rest of the gang perkily, bounding up to each member with a hug. Velma couldn’t quite hide a taken-aback look when Mary Jane flung her arms around her neck unreservedly, but she returned the hug, trying hard not to look awkward about it. She and Shaggy’s new girlfriend really didn’t know one another all that well, despite the fact that she’d accompanied them on two mysteries, yet she was simply the kind of "huggy" person that approached even casual acquaintances with friendly abandon. Though they were totally different personalities, Velma liked her, and not just for Shaggy’s sake. The young woman’s sunny disposition had a way of lighting up every situation, which the reserved Velma could appreciate.

After Ethan had received his hug (causing him to look even more surprised than his girlfriend had) Fred carried Mary Jane’s overnight bag to the correct guest room while the others set out the snacks, looking forward to a happy afternoon of catching up.

"Look, everyone— me and Freddy are getting married!" Daphne announced to the room in general. "Now we get to collect presents!"

Daphne’s statement would have been terribly materialistic—were the gang not playing Life, one of their favorite board games. She and Fred, playing as a team, had just landed on the ‘Get Married’ space, requiring the other two couples to shell out some major moolah for the celebration. Groaning good-naturedly, they forked over the allotted amount of "cash", which Daphne collected in a neat pile.^*

"Ah, come on, you know you love us," Fred joked with them, his voice normal even though he felt unsettled. Despite the fact that they were only playing a game, Fred’s heart had nearly fallen out of his chest when Daphne’d announced their "marriage." Reminding himself again to keep his cool, he turned his attention to Shaggy, who was addressing he and Daph.

"Like, will you take a s’more instead?" Shaggy asked, offering one of the gooey treats. Between turns he’d been toasting marshmallows in the fireplace, aided by Scooby, who had appointed himself the game’s official refreshment provider. Besides making countless s’mores (including some carob ones for himself—chocolate not being good for him) the dog had also turned out some incredible-looking caramel apples.

"Reah! Reah!" Scooby agreed. Food certainly seemed like an acceptable payment method to him. Loading some more of the snacks on a large plate, he handed them around to the players as Ethan spun the wheel.

The seven friends were lying on the den floor around the game board, draped in blankets in front of the fire. In the corner, lights twinkled on the Christmas tree, and cheery Christmas music piped softly through the speakers. To further get into the cozy spirit of the evening, everyone had changed into their pajamas as well. Shaggy’s attire looked oddly similar to his regular garb—he was clad in the same long, olive green t-shirt, but he’d paired it with red pajama pants in lieu of his usual bell-bottoms. Mary Jane and Daphne wore pajama bottoms teamed with lace-edged tank-tops, while Velma of course wore sensible, long-sleeved red flannels. Fred looked wonderful in his dark blue, silk button-down top and matching pants, and Ethan wore a similar outfit in a deep, black-cherry color. Not much on pajamas, Ethan had taken them on the insistence of his older brother Aidan, who’s early Christmas present they were. Evidently he’d wanted his younger brother to be well-dressed at the party. Whatever the reason, Velma was thankful. The color was perfect for him, and she’d been trapped in a nearly constant stare ever since he’d put them on.

"Oh, look Vel," Ethan grinned, moving their orange car forward after his spin. "We’ve just had two more kids."

"Jinkies, this is getting ridiculous," his not-overtly-maternal partner uttered as Ethan triumphantly fished out two more "baby pegs" –one blue and one pink-- from their plastic baggie.

"Look, you have to add another car!" Fred laughed, pointing. Indeed, Ethan and Velma’s playing piece was completely filled by their numerous "offspring" – they’d already had to lay two of the pegs across the rows.

"Like, you’re the man, Eth!" Shag congratulated him.

"Oh, brother," replied Velma.

"I’d like to have a lot of kids someday," Mary Jane said, thoughtfully, as she took her turn spinning the number wheel. "Maybe not.." She quickly consulted Ethan and Velma’s cars. "... eight... but a lot."

"Like, me too," Shaggy agreed, smiling. "We’ll have Shaggy Jr. and Mary Jane Jr..." His girlfriend beamed at him, even if she did think that ‘Mary Jane Junior’ sounded a bit strange. It was the thought that counted, after all.

Fred took all this in, thinking so intently that he nearly forgot to take his turn. Though they were only playing a lighthearted game, he wondered if any of the rest of them noticed how they had automatically paired themselves off for marriage, for children. He wondered, especially, if Daphne had noticed. Even with the game aside, there was such a natural assumption about all three of the couples, an assumption that they would all eventually marry. Tomorrow, he would be the first to make that assumption a reality... he hoped.

"What is this, Fred?" Daphne asked as Fred slipped a video into the VCR. The gang had just finished singing a round of Christmas songs, accompanied by Ethan and Shaggy on their guitars, but were now all waiting expectantly as Fred prepared for a special presentation.

"It’s a surprise," he answered her, eyes twinkling, as he hit the lights. Coming back over to the loveseat he’d been sharing with Daphne, he slid back under their blanket just as the first images of a home movie filled his big-screen TV. Around the room, the other couples were similarly situated—Shaggy and Mary Jane snuggled up in a huge beanbag chair, while Ethan and Velma lay side-by-side on the couch. Scooby’s large frame was stretched out languorously in front of the fire.

From the first few seconds of the tape, it was clear that the recording was more than twenty years old— though there was no date, the picture quality, color, and limited camera range all bespoke an early-model home camcorder. It showed a Christmas from many years back, and though the furniture and decorations were slightly different, most of those present recognized the setting as the Dinkley living room. The camera was focused on two boy toddlers—one blonde-headed and already strapping, the other thinner with a light brown mop of hair—and one younger girl, still crawling and having a much better time throwing the wrapping paper about the room than playing with her new presents.

"It’s our first Christmas together," Velma nearly sighed, her nasal voice soft with nostalgia. "Almost all together," she added.

"Yeah, where’s Daphne?" Ethan asked her, noting the absence of a redheaded toddler in the video. "And I take it Scoobs wasn’t born yet." What he was really hoping for was some embarrassing Velma footage. His mother had embarrassed him out of his mind by showing Velma some of his baby pictures, some of which weren’t all that flattering. Velma’s personal favorite had been the one of him dressed in a cape, his hair sticking straight up with shampoo, doing a super-hero impersonation.

"We didn’t meet Daph until a few years later, in school," Velma explained. "But Fred, Shaggy, and I’s parents all knew each other even before we were born, because we only lived about a block apart. They all used to get together for Christmas, and brought us along."

"And the rest is history," Fred finished.

The camera turned away from the two boys, who were "driving" new toy trucks across the carpet, to the little girl. Even though she obviously wasn’t wearing glasses yet in the video, everyone immediately recognized the one-and-a-half-year-old self of Mystery Inc.’s youngest member—Velma. She had a soft round baby face capped with a head of dark hair, and was wearing a little orange jumper over a diaper and tiny, matching orange socks. After staring right at the camera for several seconds, she scooted over quickly and reached out a hand to the strange new instrument, curious.

"No, no, Velma," came the voice of the camera’s operator, Mr. Dinkley. Looking almost disappointed, baby Velma diverted her attention to the Christmas tree and in a flash crawled behind it to investigate matters.

Mimicking what he had just heard, little Fred toddled over to the errant girl—though his toddling, even then, held a bit of a swagger. "No, Ve-ma," he repeated, authority in his three-year-old voice. His correction totally ignored, he reached under her arms and hauled his petite playmate up, meaning to bring her away from the tree—an action that was met with a downright annoyed cry from the unwilling Velma.

"Freddy, put Velma down," his mother instructed, and the little boy obliged, partly because Velma was flailing around so much that he could barely hold on. Reseated, she grabbed up Fred’s new, plastic toy magnifying glass— and stuck as much of it as she could directly into her mouth.

Watching, the entire gang burst out laughing. "That’s the start of a beautiful friendship, right there," Fred observed, bringing more laughs.

"Where are you?" Mary Jane asked Shaggy a moment later. "You just disappeared."

"Like, prob’ly the kitchen," Shaggy smiled. As if in answer to his girlfriend’s question, the camera panned over and revealed the sandy-haired little boy nearly hidden behind a mound of wrapping paper. His face and hands were coated in sticky, melted chocolate.

"Norville Rogers!" his mother exclaimed on the tape. "I told you had to wait until after Christmas dinner to eat the candy from your stocking."

"Sorry," little Shaggy answered sheepishly. "I forgot."

"Don’t worry," his father noted quietly to his mother—but not so quietly that the camera didn’t pick it up. "I’ve never seen a boy that could eat that much! He’ll finish his dinner."

"There’s something that hasn’t changed!" Daphne teased, just as a new video segment came up.

"Awwwwww," the entire room chorused immediately as the screen filled with an image of baby Scooby.

"Rey! R’hat’s me!" Scooby announced, pleased.

"It sure is, buddy," Shaggy replied.

"You’re just a tiny puppy," Daphne continued. "Oh, and look, there’s me." Indeed, her preteen self had just debuted on the screen, wearing, not surprisingly, a dark purple minidress. Her shoulder-length red hair was perfectly styled, and she carried herself with none of the typical pre-teen awkwardness. Unlike many people, Daphne had not gone through that particular phase.

The same thing could be said of Freddy, who, as the young teenager on the video, looked confident and suave as ever, and showed the beginnings of his later broad-shouldered, ultra-brawny physique. In this particular clip, the gang was at a Christmas Eve party, and Fred and Daphne began dancing expertly while Shaggy and Velma, standing in the background, shyly contemplated the idea. They had always been such a good pair, the two of them, Daphne thought to herself as she watched. Well, maybe not always, she had to admit, thinking of Fred’s sometimes ridiculous overblown bravado as a boy, matched with her fussy vanity. If someone would have told her back then that the two of them would have ended up together... But by the time this clip was taken, that had all changed. It had been so easy for them to come together, as it all seemed so natural, but at the same time they had never fully given in. Maybe it was the fact that everyone seemed to expect it, or maybe that they were too afraid of ruining their friendship—probably a little of both. And then Fred had started to change and so had she... Well, they had come through all of that, and now here they were, an absolute couple at last. And if what she was predicting was right, they might soon be more than that...

There were several more clips, not all of Christmases. Fred had considerately added some footage from some recent mysteries on which Mary Jane and Ethan had assisted the gang, not wanting to leave them out. As the video went on, playing into the darkened room, Ethan felt Velma change positions in his arms, turning over so that she lay against him, her cheek to his chest. Automatically he reached one hand up to her shoulders, trying to work some of the tension loose. Though personality-wise she’d loosened up noticeably over the past year, the same couldn’t be said for her always-rigid posture and close, controlled movements and stride. She worked those muscles into the most awful knots. Ethan adjusted the pressure a bit, realizing that he didn’t have to press as hard through her flannel nightshirt as he did through the heavy knit sweaters that were forever bunching up under his hands.

A few minutes into his attentions, Velma let out a soft, relaxed sigh. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe and secure—and she’d never realized before how much she—ever-brave Velma—appreciated that feeling. Drowsy and warm and comfortable beyond belief, she closed her eyes.

"Velma?" Ethan said quietly, trying to wake her after the lengthy video ended. "Velma, wake up, love." The others were starting to rise from their seats, though reticent to leave their warm blankets and comfortable positions. While the girls, Shaggy, and Scooby gathered up the food trays and plates, Fred turned the lights back on and clicked off the TV. Even though the others squinted at the change from dark to light, Velma didn’t so much as stir.

Daphne, noticing, addressed the situation. "She’s out for the night, Ethan," she informed the young man, who of course was currently being used as a pillow. "Believe me, unless oh... a vampire pops up by the bed or something, she’s not going to wake up." Daphne would know this, as she and Velma had shared many a room during the all their years of mystery-solving.

Ethan had no problem with her staying right where she was—obviously—except that with all that cider and quite a few s’mores, his mouth was sticky and seriously in need of some nice, cool water. He’d been able to put it off before because he was distracted by the movie (and Velma), but there was no way he could go to sleep that way; it would drive him nuts. Slowly, he eased himself out from under his sleeping girlfriend, who settled onto the couch and contained slumbering deeply. Picking up a few plates and napkins in order to help with the clean-up, Ethan moved to the kitchen and there appreciatively downed three glasses of ice water.

"Do you just want to leave Velma on the couch?" Fred asked him when he was finished. Ethan pondered this.

"I guess so," he answered, not sure. He’d never really been placed in such a position before—making a decision—albeit a very small one—about his girlfriend’s welfare.

" ‘Cause if you can carry her, I can show you where her guest room is. It’s upstairs, though." Fred almost pointed out that he could carry Velma, but it seemed a rude thing to say, so he didn’t.

"Yeah, I can," Ethan replied, though in all honesty he’d never done it before. He did know, however, that she was light—being after all a fairly small woman. "Yeah, let’s do that," he decided.

The two men returned to the family room, where Ethan gingerly scooped up Velma and held her, bride-style, cuddled against his chest. She was so dead to the world that she gave him no help at all, but neither did she wake up when he jostled her around, trying to keep her tucked in close as they headed for the stairs. Fred led the way, glancing back occasionally to make sure Ethan wasn’t having any trouble, but it wasn’t necessary. Even climbing the stairs wasn’t difficult for him. When they reached the appropriate bedroom, Fred helpfully flipped on the lights while Ethan moved forward to settle her lightly on the double bed. To his surprise, the comforter was patterned with purple roses, and the walls of the room were lavender—hardly the style that masculine bachelor Fred would go for.

"This is Daphne’s room—I mean, for when she stays over," he explained, catching Ethan’s expression as he looked about.

"I could guess," Ethan returned, noting the color scheme—as well as the implied meaning behind Fred’s statement. It might have surprised him that Fred and Daphne didn’t share a room, were it not the same with he and Velma—and they’d had plenty of opportunities. In fact, Fred had very tactfully asked him about sleeping arrangements when he’d invited him to the party—probably it was easier to ask him—another guy—rather than his closer friend Velma. As a result, Daphne would later be taking up the other half of this bed, while he would have a nice, comfy air mattress in the office.

"It’s kinda cold in here," Fred observed. "I’m gonna go hike up the thermostat a little, and get the air bed ready."

"Okay," Ethan answered, turning his eyes away from his sleeping girlfriend for a moment to watch Fred leave. Sitting carefully down beside her, he reached out and ever-so-gently removed her glasses. Despite his care, and the fact that she hadn’t so much as twitched an eyelid during the entire time he’d carried her upstairs, he saw her face tighten in reaction, and her fingers clenched suddenly. Quickly he placed the precious spectacles on the nightstand, amazed that even in her sleep losing her glasses frightened her. Her hand patted automatically over the pillow until he laid one of his own over it, calming her. When she was still and quiet again, he used the same hand to smooth her hair back from her face. She looked different when she was asleep—and without her glasses. Not younger, not any more or less attractive, just—more at peace. Her face didn’t hold any of the tension that it often did during the day, even when she was at her most relaxed.

Watching her, Ethan remembered what he had been talking to Fred about earlier—about asking Velma to marry him. Oh, he wanted to—he wanted to so much. And yet, he wouldn’t be, not anytime soon, but not for the "usual reasons." It wasn’t that they were too young, for they were no younger than plenty of other people who got married, including his parents and his older brother. It wasn’t that he was afraid of commitment or didn’t want to limit himself to one woman. He couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else besides her. It was just that their lives were too complicated right now, what with her on mysteries and especially with his music career just taking off. His first album was to begin recording after the first of the year, which in itself might not have been too big of a distraction for them, but that was to followed by a tour, opening for a popular rock band. Beginning a marriage was complicated enough without throwing a three-month tour into the mix, and Ethan knew he would have to wait until he at least had an idea where his career might go. Still, some days it was just so hard to wait, ad tomorrow was going to be one of them.

Ethan turned as he heard Fred re-enter the room. "I got the mattress ready," Fred informed him, quietly, though there was no need for such caution. Daphne was right—a cannon could have gone off in the room, and Velma would have kept right on sleeping.

"Great," Ethan said, rising from the bed. "It’s in the office, right?"

"Nah, I had to put it in the den. I thought it would fit in the office, but its a little too big."

"No problem, I’ll just move my stuff."

"Ethan, you sure you don’t want the master bedroom? Trust me, I don’t mind taking the air bed." The two men had had this discussion earlier.

"I’m sure." As if to back up his answer, he rose from the bed and started towards the door. "Don’t worry about it."

"Thanks, Eth," Fred answered as his friend left the room. A moment later he did the same, hoping as he made his way down the hall that he’d meet Daphne on the way. She didn’t appear, and he finally entered his own room and eventually his bed. Sleep was a long time coming, for he knew that this Christmas was going to be an even bigger day, even more special, than usual...

On to Part 4

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