Disclaimer: All characters except for the host, Gregg, Aidan, and Scott are not mine. Incidentally, those are all names that I originally considered for our boy Ethan! (Except for Gregg. It just sort of sounded right!) None of the song lyrics are mine, either.

Chapter 6: The Gala

Standing in the midst of the newly-converted and renamed Spooky Island Grand Ballroom, Ethan was in awe. Even though the very word "gala" invoked images of a formal setting (as his attire could attest to) he’d in no way been able to anticipate the sheer scale of the event, nor the splendor of the massive room. It was all gleaming black marble floors and high ceilings, set off by a curving, silver-railed staircase that wound down from the entranceway. Beautiful chandeliers bathed the room in soft, warm light, aided by candelabras along the paneled walls. In one corner an orchestra was warming up, while a small choir milled around on a low stage area. In another part of the room, long banquet tables practically groaned under the weight of large fountains of punch and elegantly arranged silver trays of hors d’oerves.

The press was there too, of course, setting up their cameras and testing out a jungle of sound and light equipment, all the while keeping some of the more curious college kids out from underfoot. This press event was the mirror opposite of the day of the rescue, which had been an utter zoo of excited college kids, autograph hounds, and frantic reporters trying to garner hurried interviews from anyone that might have a scrap of information. Now some of the same reporters walked about briskly but collectedly among the guests, conducting brief interviews that would be taped and then aired during various points of the live broadcast of the gala. Everyone on Spooky Island had been invited to the event, and Ethan got a few laughs from watching some of the guys move about uncomfortably in their rented tuxedos, loosening their ties and fiddling with restricting cummerbunds and over-tight vests. This was not to say he couldn’t relate, though his own black suit, vest, and burgundy-and-gray tie fit to perfection. He hadn’t been so dressed up since his oldest brother’s wedding a few years back, and after his usual loose-fitting clothing it was not the most comfortable of changes. However, he could hardly wait to see Velma in her formal attire. He’d never seen her in a dress before, and there was just something about a woman in a nice dress...

She hadn’t arrived yet, and wouldn’t until after the gala actually started. From what Ethan understood from the short press briefings he’d received earlier that day, she and the rest of Mystery, Inc. were going to have a staged "grand entrance" once the taping of the gala began. He, as her official date, was to stand at the foot of the staircase and meet her when the group had descended. Mary Jane was to be there as well, and the two of them had exchanged several jokes earlier about being the "significant others." At the moment Ethan could see Shaggy’s new girlfriend giving an interview to a few press agents, beaming her usual sunny smile. Ethan could imagine what the beatnik’s reaction would be when he saw her later, for the already pretty girl looked especially nice in her two-piece black evening dress, lined at every edge with a thin band of sparkling silver beading. Her sun-blonde hair was piled attractively on top of her head, with a few spiraling curls loose around her face.

Ethan had not as yet had any interviews, though he knew he was sure to later on. Despite his earlier experiences with the press he rather wished he could go ahead and do it now. Because his time on the island had been spent more or less exclusively with Velma, he hadn’t made any new friends, and so he found himself bored with no one to go talk to before the gala started. Some of the gala coordinators were fussing over the banquet tables, ruling out the possibility of whiling away some time getting some refreshments. This might be a looong night, he noted inwardly. What if I don’t even get to spend any time with Vel? It was a gloomy prospect to be sure.

"Hey, Eth!" called out a familiar voice from behind him, snapping him from his musings. Scott? he questioned to himself, eyebrows knitting. But how could he.... Sure enough, when Ethan turned to meet the oncoming voice, the person he saw was none other than his younger brother! The teenager was walking towards him, his usual loose stride hampered by what was evidently an uncomfortable suit.

"Scott? What are you... how did you get here?" Ethan asked, surprised but obviously pleased.

"What a way to greet your little brother," Scott joked.

"Nah, I just meant..."

"Yeah, I know. I’m not really sure how it all worked out. Mom and Dad just got a call from Spooky Island inviting all of us—free plane tickets, hotel rooms, the whole enchilada. They couldn’t get off work, but me and Aidan are here."

"Aidan, too?" Ethan asked, glancing around the room to perhaps catch an offhand glimpse of his second-to-oldest brother.

"Not down yet. Still up in the room getting pretty." The two brothers exchanged a knowing laugh. Aidan was the definitely the most looks-conscious of the four brothers, though he was too good-natured to be truly narcissistic. "Gregg didn’t know if he could come, what with the baby due so soon, but he might get here a little later. He couldn’t make our flight—work stuff." Ethan nodded in happy acknowledgement—he hadn’t been able to see his oldest brother in quite some time, and it would be terrific to have a reunion. "So you didn’t know we were coming?"

"News to me." They must have invited the families of everyone close to Mystery, Inc. or involved in the whole rescue, Ethan correctly surmised. That means Velma’s family will be here too... oh boy. He gulped, thinking of meeting her parents on a night when he was under enough pressure as it was. It wasn’t as if he minded— he knew that meeting the family of one’s girlfriend was a necessary milestone, and also that Velma was very close to both her parents. But I wasn’t expecting that tonight—best behavior, Ethan!

"That’s weird." Scott paused a moment, watching as an attractive girl strolled past. "So you must be pretty tight with Mystery, Inc. huh?"

Ethan smiled confidentially to himself. "I guess you could say that."

Scott’s eyes lit up. "Heyyy— that means you know Daphne, right?" A grin curved its way across his face.

"Sure, yeah."

"So is she as hot in real life as she looks on TV?"

Ethan gave a short laugh. "Yeah, Daphne’s cool."

"Do you think you could introduce me to her?" Scott asked, trying to hide his eagerness under a cool facade but failing miserably.

"Sure, I’ll introduce you if you want... but I wouldn’t get any ideas if I were you. She’s already got a boyfriend," Ethan couldn’t resist teasing him. Scott was fourteen and as girl-crazy as anything, and he knew his little brother looked up to him as some sort of expert on women. Ethan anticipated that Scott, once he grew up a bit, would have no problem finding dates: the young man was friendly, easygoing, and had a good sense of humor. With his spiky black hair, brown eyes, and his big smile, he was also a pretty cute kid.

"Fred, right? Ah, he’s not so great," Scott mock-pouted.

"Try telling him that," Ethan countered, joking as well. During the past week, he and Fred had actually become quite good friends, despite their vastly different personalities and interests. "Or try telling Daphne," he added. "Sorry, bro— I wouldn’t be surprised if we see wedding invitations for that one pretty soon. Besides," he teased, "she’s a little old for you, don’t you think?"

"Yeah... well," Scott admitted, looking down for a beat. Suddenly he brightened again. "Hey, what about Velma? She’s the youngest, right? I mean, yeah she’s kinda nerdy, but she’s hot, too!" Scott delivered all this with the authority of a scientist explaining some new breakthrough discovery.

Ethan let out a strange sound—a kind of coughing laugh. "She not that much younger... and.... she’s seeing someone, too."

"She is?"

"Yeah." Ethan choked down laughs, finally covering his mouth under the guise of smoothing down his mustache. This was just too good!

"Let me guess... Shaggy, right? Dang it."

"No, not Shaggy. Ummm... me, actually," he finally revealed, his eyes twinkling.

"You!?" the younger man exclaimed. "You’re kiddin’ me, right?"

"Would I do that?"

"You lucky dog—how’d you manage that!?"

"I have no idea," Ethan admitted truthfully. He really didn’t. Two weeks ago they’d been strangers on a tram, and now they were a bona fide couple, despite the fact that he’d messed up more than once and that she was an absolute genius celebrity... he truly didn’t understand it.

"So what’s she really like? Is she really as smart as everyone says? She looks smart."

"She is."

"Does she like to do regular girl type stuff, or do you guys, like, study all the time?"

Ethan had to laugh. "No studying going on here."

"What about the turtleneck?"

Ethan frowned, uncomprehending. "What about it?"

"Does she ever wear anything else?"

"You know... not very often. But she will be tonight," Ethan smiled.

Scott might have continued his game of twenty questions had not a press agent very politely stepped in to get his older brother’s attention.

"Sir... the gala is about to start, if you wouldn’t mind stepping over to the staircase."

"Oh, right. No problem," Ethan answered. "I guess I’ll see you in a while, little brother."

"You got it, Eth. Go get her!"

"Riggggt," Ethan answered, his brother’s encouragement warranting a bemused head-shake. As he made his way through the now very large crowd to the grand staircase, press agents fanned out, guiding the guests into certain areas back from the stairs where they would not block the sightline of the cameras. Up in one of the railed balcony areas, light technicians swiveled the huge spotlights into position. The orchestra played a few last experimental warm-ups and the choir filed onto their risers. Ethan swallowed in anticipation. This was it. As he arrived at the foot of the stairs, he felt guiding hands gently move him into place at the right railing, next to Mary Jane. She gave him a small, almost nervous smile, and he greeted her in return. Listening through a kind of haze, he heard one of the coordinators instruct him to offer his left hand to Velma when she reached the last step, and then to escort her forward, where there would be some brief introductions by the host of the event. Ethan nodded quickly in understanding and then trained his eyes to the top of the stairway.

All around the almost cavernously large room, conversations began to die down as its occupants instinctively sensed the change in the atmosphere. The last few whispered strains were blanketed down by the dimming of the lights, followed by the humming whir of the television cameras. In the space of a few seconds the room was clothed in inky blackness, the only light visible coming from the cameras, tiny lights on the music stands of the orchestra, and two glowing light sticks—impromptu batons used by the conductor and the choir director. The darkness had been explained to all the guests as the cue that the show was now live and on the air, being broadcast to millions of homes around the world. Ethan’s palms were cold but sweating in his anticipatory state, and he wiped them hastily on his pants, not wanting to have Velma grabbing onto a clammy hand when she reached him. If only this would start already, he thought to himself. Then, as if answering him, a male announcer’s microphone-enhanced voice boomed majestically over the sound system—

"Ladies and gentleman, please welcome--- MYSTERY, INC.!"

The crowd erupted into literally thunderous applause and cheering just as the spotlights hit the top the of the stairs and the orchestra began with a rousing crash and swell. A prominent horn melody stood out, seeming to herald the arrival of the world’s heroes. The composition had been written especially for the occasion— a soaring piece that sounded exactly like the stirring theme of an epic film. The choir "ahhhed" sweepingly above them, creating a powerful sound that seemed to contradict its small size.

Scooby was the first out into view, trotting happily down the first few steps with his meticulously-groomed coat gleaming under the lights. He wore in lieu of his usual blue collar a snazzy black bowtie that must have been equipped with a small microphone, for even over the roaring din of the crowd his exclamations of "Rank rou!" and "Rello!" could be clearly heard. Just behind him Ethan could see four figures-- blue-tinted silhouettes in the glare of the lights that shone directly into his line of vision. They stepped forward—one stair step, then two, and then they seemed to him to step all at once out of the light itself. Out of the glare at last, so he could see the four friends clearly.

And when he saw Velma everything else in the room—the lights, the crowd, the music-- everything—fell away. All he could do was stare and stare.

She looked exactly like she had in his drawing.

Taking in a heavy breath, Ethan let his eyes soak in the sight. She wore a form-fitting, satiny dress in a rich, deep burgundy, accompanied by matching gloves and a stole. The tight but perfectly fitted bodice had once been strapless, but at her request the wardrobe women had added thin straps. The skirt, shimmering and smooth, swirled about the floor. Velma had allowed the hair and makeup departments to make some slight changes as well. Her dark hair was sleek and soft, shining auburn where the light hit it, and was styled loosely with bangs curled and swept over and the ends flipped. Though she had consented to wearing makeup, she had refused the suggestion of contacts but wore, instead of her usual coke-bottle frames, a smaller pair with thinner black rims in a slightly cats-eye shape. She couldn’t see quite so well out of them as she could her other ones, but definitely well enough to get by.

Velma’s appearance was generating quite a stir among the crowd, but there was only one other man who was watching her with so much attentiveness as was her enamored boyfriend. Harold Dinkley, standing alongside his wife and the parents of the other young heroes, looked at his daughter and fairly burst with pride. It was like a wonderful combination of seeing she and Shaggy leave for the Senior Prom, listening to her valedictorian speech, witnessing her receive her numerous awards and academic honors, and hearing her reports of her promotions and achievements at NASA. All that—about ten times over. He and Marilyn had always known that Velma was special-- that she would do something special-- though he supposed that every parent felt that way about their child. They had never forced their expectations on her, yet she had never disappointed them; besides the fact that she had grown up to be, indeed, a genius, she was also a very fine young woman—all that he and his wife could ask. They fully expected to someday see her do something for the history books—some major scientific breakthrough, perhaps, a new mathematical theory, or a life-changing invention. Well, she had done it alright, though not exactly what he and his wife had expected. Their young daughter had quite literally saved the world. She and her friends since babyhood—the very friends that Harold had seen grow up, and that walked beside her now to the applause of the world. It was almost too much for him to take.

Tears pricked at his eyes—not a particularly familiar sensation, for Harold, like his daughter, was not the most emotionally demonstrative of individuals. Reaching under his thick glasses, he dabbed them away, not out of shame but only for fear that the tearing would blur his view of the events. Beside him, his wife Marilyn’s eyes also brimmed with happy tears, though she let them slide unbidden down her cheeks. Her daughter, who was being escorted by a very gentlemanly Shaggy (or, as she had always called him, Norville), had reached the midway point of the staircase in their slow descent, allowing her to clearly make out the features of the girl’s face. Velma wore what had to be the biggest smile Marilyn had ever seen on her, and her whole self seemed to radiate an exuberant, open happiness. It only added to her loveliness, and Marilyn thought also that her Velma had never looked so beautiful. It wasn’t just the dress, or the makeup, or her new hairstyle, though those things were nice. It was the fact that she looked happier than Marilyn could ever remember seeing her, and that knowledge warmed her heart. Velma had always been a happy person, though, like her father, she tended to keep her emotions more to herself. That had changed somewhat as her years with Mystery, Inc. went on, but after the break-up... she knew it had been much harder on Velma than the young woman had wanted to let on. The same went for the time at NASA. Though the three of them had all been ecstatic about her prestigious and challenging job, Marilyn had begun to worry if the stress, combined with the loneliness of being away from family and any real friends, was creating a very negative strain. At their last Christmas together, Velma had seemed different—almost closed off, and Marilyn quite frankly had been worried. But now she had been reunited with her friends, the prospect of more mysteries ahead of them—and of course there was the new young man in her life...

Marilyn took her eyes away from Mystery, Inc. for a slight moment in a hopeful attempt to catch a glimpse of him. Her search was a quick one, for the moment she saw the enraptured young man by the staircase she knew in a moment that he could only be the famous Ethan. She would have known even had she not seen him briefly on some of the newscasts that first day. "Ethan?" she remembered her husband questioning. "That’s an interesting sort of name... what is he, a poet? Artist?" When she had told Harold he was a musician, the two of them had had a lengthy discussion on the subject. They had always assumed that Velma would meet a nice fellow scientist at NASA whom she would settle down with, but after considering the subject Marilyn thought it a good thing that Velma date someone different. If Velma’s reports of Ethan were correct (as Marilyn assumed they were, though obviously a bit biased), he sounded as if he might be the perfect match for her—a good balance of her traits.

He certainly is a handsome boy, isn’t he? she mused smilingly to herself, thinking that her smitten daughter had not exaggerated in that particular description. The young man would have almost been pretty-- what with his long lashes, coffee-dark eyes, and perfect mouth-- had it not been for the goatee that gave him a more stylishly handsome look. He’s polite, too, she noted, watching the gentle, yet smooth way that he reached out for Velma’s hand and helped her down from the last step. Instead of proffering his arm to escort her forward he simply continued to hold her hand, proclaiming unwittingly in the simple gesture their status as an established couple. They leaned their heads together for the slightest of moments, Ethan whispering something in her ear that made her smile and look down, probably trying to head off a blush.

As things turned out, Marilyn was indeed right in her assessment. Velma was flattered and reassured by Ethan’s words, which had been some very favorable comments on her appearance. She’d made an effort to look like his drawing of her, and was warmed by the fact that he’d noticed—and loved it. Nevertheless, she was starting to feel a bit self-conscious now that the thrill of the entrance was over and they all stood in front of a myriad of expectant, all-seeing cameras. She’d been too excited to be nervous—except about the possibility of tripping in the strappy shoes she was wearing. Even that had been more or less obliterated by Shaggy’s presence, for it was almost impossible to be anxious around the perpetually relaxed beatnik. He’d been the perfect escort, too. Now she just felt awkward in the relatively modest but still radically different clothes she was wearing. The tight, form-fitting bodice felt strange after years of loose-fitting sweaters, and she was disconcerted by the feeling that it might come loose at any moment, though she knew it was more than secure. Even the feel of the air on her skin was unfamiliar.

Turning away her thoughts from her discomfort, she focused instead on Ethan, who naturally looked breath-catchingly handsome in his black suit. Of course, most men looked good in suits—even though Shaggy still managed to look adorably ruffled even in his— and Ethan looked good in anything, but even so Velma breathed a silent "jinkies" to herself. She loved the way his hair was styled, too, with gel carefully sculpting and bringing out his curls. No doubt about it, she thought. I’ve got the most incredible-looking guy here!

The host of the show, whom Velma vaguely recognized from several talent-search shows on television, had started the introductions and brief interviews down the line with Daphne and Fred. Freddy of course was up to occasion, dazzling the camera with his photogenic smile and publicity-trained manner. (He also looked as if he were born to wear a tux, Velma noted.) Though still a bit of a show-off, there was nothing left of his arrogant credit-stealing—he had learned his lesson. Beside him, Daphne was her usual charming, smiling self, looking resplendent in her lavender ball gown and elaborately styled hair. Joyfully the pair finally announced and affirmed their status as a couple, which was met by cheers and whistles all around. It’s about time, Velma thought, with only the lightest hint of sarcasm. It was-- she couldn’t remember the amount of times she’d been asked over the years to confirm the rumors concerning the two of them. Though she knew very well about the unacknowledged but very real attraction between them, she had never been able to disclose much out of respect for their privacy. It was wonderful to see the two of them finally come to terms with their relationship and speak about it freely. I just hope they don’t think they’re revealing some kind of secret, Velma smiled to herself. She hoped that very soon they would be making another announcement, and looked forward to the day.

As the host moved to Shaggy and Mary Jane, Velma let her thoughts move there as well. Just as she and Ethan had done, the pair had expressed a desire to keep seeing one another after their return home the next day. Mary Jane, like Shaggy, currently resided in California, but was also, just as he was, a bit of a drifter—not adverse in the slightest to moving about the country and sampling life in different places, living day by day. They had no definite plans (though considering Shaggy was involved this was not much of a surprise,) but Velma knew they would be seeing more of his blonde girlfriend in the future. It was funny, really, how each of the members had found someone on that very small island.

Velma didn’t know it, but Shaggy’s thoughts were on a similar bent as he watched the announcer move on to the last couple—she and Ethan. The host began with some simple questions to the former: about her reputation as the "smart girl," her time at NASA, and what she planned to do now that Mystery, Inc. was back together. Shaggy was thrilled to see her finally getting the recognition and credit she deserved— he knew how it had hurt her to be shuffled off always into the background. It was only natural to want a little attention for what one did, and he didn’t blame her for leaving Mystery, Inc. But now here she was, and so happy... Shaggy knew Velma better than probably she thought he did, and he generally had a good sense of awareness into people’s feelings. He’d sensed a change in her in the past weeks, a change for the better—not one that altered who she was but simply made her more open and happier. He knew that was partly due to the fact that people were letting go of all the wrong ideas about her, and giving her the attention she deserved. And partly, he realized, it was due to Ethan, the young man who was gazing almost dreamily at her as she answered her questions.

It had felt a bit strange to Shaggy, handing her over to him at the foot of the stairs. The simple action had felt like so much more—as if he were acknowledging Ethan as being worthy of trust with Velma. Silly, he knew, but he’d had that definite feeling nonetheless. He’d always cared for her and even had loved her in a romantic way—for years. It hadn’t worked out because he’d never had the courage to face her with his feelings, not even after he’d finally let loose that one night and kissed her. Who knew—perhaps she might have loved him back. It was probably too late to ever know now, for Shaggy could sense a stamp of permanence in her relationship with Ethan. He could at least think this without a sad regret, for his unfulfilled feelings for her had eventually dwindled, leaving him free to fall in love with other girls. He loved Mary Jane, absolutely. And Ethan... he was a great guy. Even Scooby liked him immensely, and though he sometimes made mistakes, Scooby had a dog’s good sense about people. Shaggy’s older sister had always used him to screen her dates. Totally unbidden, Scooby had suddenly announced one night, after Ethan had dropped Velma off at the room—"Ri rike rim!" The dog had always had a kind of special protective feeling for Velma (especially when she was a child) making his pronouncement of "Rethan" as a suitable "mate" for her very reassuring.

At that very moment, "Rethan," was about to receive his first questions from the host.

"And Velma, could you introduce us to your date tonight?" the host asked, holding out the microphone.

"This is my boyfriend Ethan," she obliged, looking over to him with a smile. "Ethan Dace."

"Your boyfriend, eh?" the host re-stated, his eyebrow lifting. The college kids in the crowd let out with some approving cheers and calls at the surprise announcement. "Lucky man," the host continued. "So, Ethan, can you tell the folks at home a little bit about yourself?"

"Well, I just graduated from college," he began, wishing he had thought a little more about what he was going to say beforehand. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as a mumbling idiot, standing next to the brains of Mystery, Inc. These aren’t hard questions, he reminded himself. And I’ve gotta get used to this type of thing...

"And this is your ‘last fun before the old grind’ trip, right?"

"Yeah, that’s about it," Ethan answered with a bit of a laugh.

"So what do you plan to do now?"

Ethan turned to face Velma as he stated the next words, confident and sure. "I’m going to pursue a career as a musician." Immediately her face beamed with a proud smile, and he felt her hand tighten on his.

"A musician! And what do you play, Ethan?"

"Guitar mostly, and I also am into composition."

"Well, you might just have to take the stage tonight and show us what you can do!" Ethan was a bit startled at this, though it didn’t register on his face. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to him, but if he could... he’d be playing in front of millions of people in a live telecast! Envisioning it, his mind started to race forward, and he had to severely reign himself in order to answer the next questions.

"Why don’t you two tell us how you met."

Ethan exchanged a look with Velma, prompting her to go ahead. "We met here on Spooky Island," she began. "On the first night, actually."

"And we’ve been inseparable ever since," Ethan finished. "Okay, almost ever since. It kinda took a few days for us to get together."

"Well, what with all those monsters running around I can’t imagine you’d have much time for romance," the host teased jovially. "About that... Ethan, how do you feel about your girlfriend rescuing you?"

"It’s great," Ethan answered easily, though Velma wasn’t too pleased with the question. She didn’t know if the host had purposely meant it as a kind of bait, but she knew what it implied. Thankfully, Ethan was very secure, and also very easygoing. He took the question in stride, though she knew that he would have picked up on the meaning, too.

"And what about your future plans?" the host hurried on. The previous question had been on his required list, and the producers had been adamant about him asking it. He hadn’t wanted to—a genuinely nice man, he didn’t like the idea of purposely stirring up trouble with baited questions. Thankfully, it had all gone off well.

"We’re gonna keep seeing each other," Ethan answered, giving his girlfriend’s hand a small squeeze as he turned again to face her. "We only live about an hour and a half apart. It’ll still be hard what with busy schedules and everything, but worth it."

"So you’re exclusive, then?" the host confirmed.

The young couple exchanged an smile at the inside joke the host an unknowingly made. "Yes," Velma said. "Definitely exclusive."

"Well, that’s sad news to all of you men watching tonight—both women of Mystery, Inc. are taken. Tough luck, eh guys?" he joked, turning away from Mystery, Inc. to directly address the cameras. "But for all of you guys here tonight, it’s time to find that special girl for our first dance of the evening." Beyond him, a female soloist took her place next to a standing microphone by the piano and, from her cue, the orchestra began playing. "This is dedicated to Mystery, Inc."

The song was, appropriately, "That’s What Friends Are For," and no sooner had the first recognizable strains been played then Velma felt a slight tap on her shoulder.

"Velmster?" asked Fred, smiling softly. "Whatdya say we dance this one?"

"Sure, Fred," Velma replied, surprised and touched.

"That is, if it’s okay with you, Ethan. I don’t want to break in on the happy couple," Fred joked, raising his hands in mock submission.

"Yeah, of course," Ethan laughed, going along. He watched as Fred led her out near the center of the dance floor. Several cameras zoomed in, capturing the moment for the viewers. Looking about, Ethan spotted Mary Jane, who was in a similar position as he was, Shaggy having taken a cue from Fred and paired off with Daphne. "Mary Jane?" he asked affably, approaching the blonde girl. "Would you like to dance? Seeing as we’re the ‘significant others’ here."

"Sure," she giggled, and, proffering his arm, he escorted her out to the floor to dance near their friends. He could see Fred and Velma already there, dancing slowly, deep in a quiet conversation.

"You’ve really been holding out on us, Velms!" Fred addressed his partner, looking approvingly over her dress and giving her a playful nudge. A moment later he added, in a considerably more serious tone, "You really do look great."

"Thanks, Fred. So do you," Velma answered. She was giving him a strange look—as if she knew something else was coming. The blond man did not notice, for he was staring at the floor—not a usual stance for the confident leader.

"Thanks... listen, Velma?" he began, meeting her eyes again. "We haven’t really had a chance to talk-- just the two of us-- and I know this isn’t the best time, but... IwannasayI’msorry," he blurted in a rush. "What I did to you before... I was acting like such a jerk and I don’ t know why..."

"It’s okay, Fred," she immediately broke in—her common response to his apologies. He had never taken the time to look beyond her hasty dismissals before, taking them for face value because he was just as eager to excuse himself. Now, however, he saw them for what they were. Velma disliked dealing with the emotional overmuch, and it was easier for her to simply get things over with quickly.

"No-- no it’s not," he urged. "How I acted was terrible, and I’m so sorry Velms."

"I’ve already forgiven you for that, Freddy," she assured him, the use of his nickname confirming it in his mind. He hadn’t noticed it at the time, but in the months directly before the break-up, she’d ceased to use the more familiar name. "Your ego ran away with you—it happens, but you’ve shown that you’ve gotten it back under control. I was more upset about how you were acting for your sake than what it was doing to me—you’re too nice a guy to act that way. It wasn’t you." Fred nodded solemnly. "And I wasn’t exactly behaving up to par, either," Velma admitted. "I got so defensive, snapping at everyone."

"You’re not like that now," Fred told her sincerely, bringing a smile to her face. "So we’re okay?" he asked. Velma nodded, still smiling. "Great."

Freddy felt that he ought to do something more, say something more—a man of action, it just seemed to him that they ought to "seal the deal" so to speak. A handshake didn’t seem quite appropriate, so, in an unexpected move, he drew her forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm, friendly hug. He felt her instant twinge of surprise-- a slight stiffening in her posture-- but in a moment she relaxed and leaned into him. He’d never hugged Velma before, not once. Group hugs with the entire gang, maybe the occasional accidental pile-up... but never a close, one-on-one hug. Their relationship didn’t seem to indicate it. And now it felt, to Freddy, a very nice thing, though also unfamiliar. Velma felt so small and soft in his arms, surprising him—it seemed the direct opposite of how he had always viewed her strong personality.

As the chorus of the song began to give way to the second verse, Freddy released Velma back into dancing position. She was still feeling a bit taken aback by his unexpected show of affection. The two of them had never been best friends, not like she and Daphne, or even she and Shaggy were. But they had been close, until the rifts forming in the gang tore them all apart. Perhaps the break-up of the gang, awful as it had been, was not entirely a bad thing. It would draw them closer together. As if cueing off her thoughts, she and Fred were joined by Shaggy and Daphne. Switching partners for the second verse, their dancing caught the attention of the light crew, who spot lit them immediately. Fred and Vel exchanged small smiles, glad that they had had their formal reconciliation in relative privacy.

As the final cadence of the song was played, applause rang out for the soloist and for the gang, who stood close to one another in the spot lit circle at the center of the room. In the midst of it, Shaggy pulled Velma into a one-armed hug while Scooby, excited and also a bit hyper from a few long draughts at the punch bowl, bounded into the center, receiving friendly pats from each of the members in turn.

"Thank you again, Mystery, Inc.!" the host exclaimed off-script, prompting even more cheers.

"Rawww shucks!" Scooby said, bringing laughter from the crowd. Velma, who was not used to being in the center of attention-- literally—began to feel a little shy, as did Shaggy, who began waving to the cameras. Even Fred was at a loss for words or action.

"And now," the host continued, "since you all looked so great out there, let’s have another slow one." His words must have been the cue for the lights, for they suddenly flickered down to an almost complete darkness. Softly tinted blue spotlights began a slow, circular sweep around the room as the romantic strains of "Unchained Melody" emanated from the orchestra. During a lengthened piano introduction, hands met and couples joined all around the dance floor.

"Ethan, I think this is your cue," Fred said, giving his new friend a good-natured slap on the arm before he moved off to dance with his own girlfriend. Shaggy paired off with Mary Jane and moved some distance a way—even though it seemed strange in a crowded room, the couples seemed to want their privacy. Ethan felt the same, slipping his arm around Velma’s waist and leading her to an unoccupied space of floor. Moving forward smoothly, he wrapped his other arm around her as well, drawing her close to him as her hands slid into place, one on his shoulder, the other finding its way around to rest lightly just below his shoulder blades. They were the perfect height for one another. Ethan breathed in deeply when she rested her head against him, her face against the crook of his neck. Though they’d danced before that one time at the nightclub, it hadn’t been like this; that had mainly been up-tempo music. The two of them had never been so physically close.

I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time

The darkness of the room, highlighted by the sweeping blue lights that picked up only silhouettes, gave each dancing couple a sense of aloneness, of privacy. Even the cameras no longer seemed omnipresent, out of view in the darkness, though a few still skirted the edge of the crowd. Out of the floor, there were no watching eyes, for the couples were far too lost in their private worlds that the dance had created. Eyes were closed or fixed on those of their partner, faces nestled or leaned together, minds unconcerned with the neighboring dancers or much else at all.

The closeness of the slow dance only heightened the sense of intimacy. As the song progressed, Velma and Ethan forgot all semblance of actual dancing, though Ethan’s natural rhythm kept them swaying lightly to the music. They came together until there was no space left between them. For awhile, each concentrated on what it was like to hold the other so closely, how they felt in each other’s arms, but eventually even that faded away as it became harder and harder for them to tell one from the other. Their hearts beat slowly but hard, at the same rhythm, and their breathing was the same. They were so close that they could feel one another taking in air.

It only felt natural for Ethan to touch her then, lightly running his hands up her back to her shoulders. Though he’d never touched her that way before, he did it without thinking, and she accepted it in kind. Her skin was even softer than he’d thought it would be. She watched his hand as his fingers gently made their way along the curve of her neck and across one side of her collarbone before moving up to stroke a few loose bangs back into place across her forehead. They’d been mussed a little from the dancing—not that she cared. Ethan’s touch felt so good—cool and light and gentle as he traced her cheekbone with a fingertip. His look was intense, but loving and familiar. Drawing from that, Velma felt warm and secure as she reached out her own hand to him. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to touch that beautiful wavy hair of his that she liked so much, but it was always too intimate of a thing for her to initiate—more intimate than probably many people ever thought about. Finally, she gave into the impulse. At first she just let her fingers play with the softly curling hair at the nape of his neck, which felt so nice to him that he smiled. Emboldened, she ran her fingers fully through, slowly, combing through the glossy-cool locks.

When the lights slowly came up a few moments later and the song died down, the young couple loosened their hold on one another but made no move away from their spot on the dance floor. Had anyone witnessed the scene that had just taken place, it would have seemed like nothing at all, nothing extraordinary, nothing special—but to Ethan and Velma, it was all of these things and more.

"Jinkies," Velma breathed.

"Yeah... I know," Ethan replied just as softly.

The two of them were snapped back into the world of the gala by the host, whose ever-enthusiastic voice came over the sound system. "And now we have a request by Mystery, Inc’s Frederick Jones! Velma giggled, knowing how Fred disliked using his full first name. Expecting to hear the name of another slow song announced—one that Freddy would undoubtedly dedicate to his beloved Daphne—she was surprised at the host’s next words. "Why don’t you come on up here to the stage, gang, because it’s time for the Electric Slide!"

Four songs later, Ethan was finally able to introduce Velma to his brothers-- including Gregg, who had managed to catch a later flight. The three men gathered around him immediately, slapping him on the back and asking all number of questions before Ethan saw her walking towards him, free for a moment from the flashbulbs and eager reporters. She’d been tied up in interviews for the past two numbers.

"I’ve got some people I want you to meet," he grinned at her, taking her hand and leading her the rest of the way towards the group. "Um, guys this is Velma Dinkley," he addressed his siblings. "I guess I don’t have to tell you that... And Velma, these are my brothers— Gregg, Aidan, and Scott." He gestured to each one in turn as he gave their names. Velma was clearly surprised by the unexpected introduction to Ethan’s family.

"Great to meet you, Velma," Gregg asserted, stepping forward and shaking her hand. Behind him, Aidan and Scott chimed in with similar salutations. "And—thank you. That doesn’t sound like much, I know, but believe me when I say—from all of us—we’re really grateful."

"Jinkies, that’s okay," Velma replied, still not adapted to the overflowing of thanks she and the gang had received in the past weeks. "It’s our job." Gregg smiled upon hearing her use her now-famous exclamation. As soon as his younger brother called and let the family know all about his adventures during the Spooky Island plot (and later about his growing relationship with Velma) Gregg had made it a point to watch every news story he could find about the Fabulous Five. Velma seemed just the same in real life as she had on television—the change in apparel notwithstanding. When Ethan had first told him that he was dating Velma, he’d found it hard to believe, but after awhile it began to make sense. He for one was certainly happy with the change in Ethan’s dating choices. The girls he had casually dated in high school and college weren’t right for him.

As Gregg was studying Velma, she was doing the same with him, as well as with the two other young men. Ethan had often spoken of his admiration for his oldest brother, and she could clearly see that he had picked up on some very favorable traits. Gregg’s easy confidence and assured smile reminded her of Ethan’s, though more developed in the older man. She guessed him to be in perhaps his early thirties, and-- also like Ethan-- he was handsome, though taller and broader in face and form. All of the brothers were handsome in fact, though Velma smiling thought to herself that her Ethan was the best-looking out of all of them. That was a distinction usually given to Aidan, who had Ethan’s same slightly mischievous but beautiful smile. A classic pretty-boy with shockingly ice-blue eyes and perfectly styled black hair, he’d had no trouble garnering dance partners. The same could not be said for the youngest of the clan—the awkwardly teenage Scott. Though he had been outspoken earlier with his brother, the presence of a pretty girl—Velma—had caused him to clam up uncomfortably. Ethan had shared with Velma that the boy reminded him of himself at that age, and Velma tried to visualize it. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, a bashful but sweet smile crossing his face as he averted his eyes from her look.

"Hey, Velma!" squealed a distinctly feminine voice at Velma’s right side. She turned to see Daphne standing beside her—but not before she witnessed poor Scott’s jaw drop to the floor in reaction. When Ethan described him as ‘girl crazy’ he wasn’t kidding! she laughed gently to herself.

"Hey, Daph," she replied happily. What with all the dances and interviews, she hadn’t had a real chance to talk to her best friend since the gala began. "I haven’t seen you since the ‘electric slide,’" she intoned dryly, making air quotes.

Daphne giggled. "What was that we were doing up there?"

"I have no idea... except that it wasn’t the electric slide."

"No kidding! Your hand jive wasn’t bad, though!"

The sound of an over-obvious throat clear erupted timidly from beside the two women. "It’s called ‘Drive the Bus," Scott offered. Both Velma and Daphne immediately looked in his direction, causing him to stumble over his next words. "Ummm... that dance you were trying to figure out? It’s called ‘Drive the Bus.’ Kinda. I uhhh.... think there were some other ones thrown in."

"Yeah... loved that shopping cart action," Aidan added with a helpful laugh, coming to the aid of his self-conscious baby brother.

Ethan took the following seconds of silence to begin introductions, putting a slight emphasis on Scott’s name when he came around to him. Daphne immediately liked the young teen, liked him and felt for his situation. She was very used to being the object of many a man’s affection, and she recognized the dreamy puppy-dog look in Scott’s eyes, coupled with a sweet shyness. When he’d taken his turn shaking her hand, he had done it firmly enough, but his hand was clammy and damp. (She’s also noticed the poor guy trying to dry his hand on the leg of his slacks beforehand.) Now he was alternately staring at his shoes and at her, trying desperately not to be obvious about it. She had to take pity on him.

"You seem to know a whole lot about dancing, Scott," she addressed him.

"Oh, me? No... not really," he answered.

"Well, that’s too bad, because I was thinking you’d make a great partner for this next dance." Scott’s eyes widened a little, just as Daphne flashed him an encouraging wink.

"Really?" Scott perked up, emboldened by Daphne’s smile. " ‘Cause... ‘cause I’d really dig dancing with you." Ethan’s eyebrows raised, and he, Aidan, and Gregg exchanged a look.

"Great!" Daphne confirmed peppily, then accepted Scott’s offered arm. Though they didn’t look particularly like gentleman at first glance, all of the Dace boys had been taught the right way to behave with lady. That, and Scott had a very good role-model in the matter—his big brother Ethan.

"I wish that had happened to me," that very brother commented to Velma, watching as Scott and Daphne began a politely-distanced slow dance. The teenager looked as if he had just entered the gates of heaven. "I was just like that, you know."

"It’s a little hard to picture," she admitted, thinking of her suave boyfriend.

"After some of those dumb things I said to you?" Ethan reminded her jokingly. "Your friends ditch you?" What was that!?" The pair broke out into laugher, remembering their rocky beginning. "Oh, hey... have you had a chance to eat anything yet?" he asked her. "How about you, guys? I don’t know about you, but I’m starved."

"I’m cool," Aidan replied.

"Same here," Gregg added.

"Actually, I have to go," Velma chimed in. "I’m sure my parents are here, but I haven’t seen them yet." After meeting Ethan’s family, it had immediately occurred to her that her own would also be in attendance. It must have been some kind of surprise arranged by Spooky Island. Mr. Mondavarious really was outdoing himself; he was the most incredibly generous person.

"I’ll help you find them," Ethan offered, feeling a few butterflies begin winging around in his stomach. The moment of truth—meeting the parents, he thought. May as well do it now. Hey, they might even like you... Ethan was sure that her parents were very nice people, but he still had a mental image of them as tall, imposing individuals, towering over him and looking down over their glasses as they asked him about his "prospects."

"No, you go ahead and get something to eat. They gave us a full dinner just a few hours ago, so I’m not that hungry. I think they knew we wouldn’t have much time to eat once we got here."

"Well, okay—if you’re sure," Ethan accepted. He wanted to stay with Velma, but he was also famished beyond belief. It really wouldn’t do for his stomach to be growling right in front of a camera... while meeting her parents...

"I am."

"Then I’ll see you in a little while," he concluded, giving her a soft smile. "Oh, wait—just one more thing." Velma paused in her turn to leave, giving Ethan the chance to get in a parting kiss—one that was a little longer than what would be considered standard.

"Man, you’d think she was leaving on a two-week cruise or something," Aidan kidded once Velma had made her departure. "Ethan, I think you’ve lost it."

"You mean that in the best possible way, I hope," Ethan replied.

"Yeah," the other young man grinned, sounding over-obvious. "She’s really great, Eth."

"Stick with her, okay?" Gregg agreed.

Hearing his much-admired older brother’s words turned the moment serious for Ethan. "Don’t worry," he said firmly.

"Oh, and Eth," Aidan came back in.

"More brotherly advice?"

"Yeah... will you go eat something? Your stomach just growled, and if it gets much worse it’s gonna outdo the orchestra."

"Ethan man, like you gotta try this stuff!" Shaggy exclaimed as Ethan approached the main banquet table.

"Relicious!" Scooby added enthusiastically, slurping down half a tray of artistically-decorated hors d’oerves as if to demonstrate his point.

"I’ll take your word for it, Scoob," Ethan said, taking up a porcelain plate from the stacks at the end of the table.

"Like, that’s not gonna be big enough!" Shaggy admonished, noticing. His eyes darting over the spread of food, he snatched up a large silver lid from one of the serving platters. "Like, here, try this," he added generously, handing the lid to the other young man.

"Uh, thanks Shag." Ethan saw that the always-hungry beatnik had employed a similar food-gathering tactic—he held one of the massive punchbowls, emptied of the pink beverage but overflowing with a veritable jumble of food. Over all was a topping of marshmallow crème, generously laced with chocolate syrup and what looked like sweet-and-sour sauce.

"Sure, man. That ought to get you started, anyway." Ethan, bemused, wondered just how many trips the pair had made to the table—and how many times the staff had had to replenish it. "Like, come on Scoob," Shaggy prompted the Great Dane, who was wolfing down the contents of the watermelon boat. "I think this is all we can get in this trip. And, like, we’ve gotta leave some for everybody else!"

"R’okay," Scooby consented, and his friend balanced a loaded serving tray across his back. Shaggy’s arms were too full with his own over-stuffed punch bowl to carry the dog’s meal as well.

"Ethan, come and sit with us if you want," Shaggy offered, heading towards some nearby tables. Scooby tried to follow, but despite his massive build he staggered under the weight of the overloaded tray. It wavered precariously, threatening to spill its messy contents at any moment.

"Hang on, Scoob!" Ethan called, making a grab for the tray and righting it with one hand. Though he winced at the squelching of gooey strawberry jam between his fingers as they closed over the rim, he managed to get Scooby safely on his way again. Once the duo were off, he reached for a napkin, cleaning the stickiness from his hands. It took quite an effort, and it wasn’t until he heard a female voice addressing him that he looked up. An unfamiliar voice...

He knew the second he saw the couple standing in front of him that they were Velma’s parents—Harold and Marilyn Dinkley. Even had Velma not described them, he would have known, for so many of his girlfriend’s traits were blatantly evident in their looks and carriage. Ethan breathed an inward sigh of relief, seeing that Harold was not glaringly tall, as he had imagined in his nervousness. He was in fact on the short side, and rather stout. He did wear glasses, however, as Ethan had predicted—thick-rimmed black frames, not unlike Velma’s. His hair was the same color as his daughter’s as well, (though there was not much left of it on his partially-bald head) and he wore a thin mustache. Despite the similarities, Ethan saw more of Velma in her mother’s features—her face, though a bit rounder (Marilyn was also plump) had the same sweetness, and she was bespectacled as well. Her honey-colored hair was piled up on her head stylishly for the occasion, and she wore a modest pale blue dress. Both parents stood with hands clasped behind their backs, and Ethan had to smile at the sight.

"You’re Ethan, isn’t that right?" Marilyn asked pleasantly, smiling warmly. "We’d know you anywhere from Velma’s description—and from the news, of course. We’re her parents—I’m Marilyn."

"Harold Dinkley," the older man introduced himself briskly, offering Ethan his hand to shake.

"Hey, it’s great to meet you," Ethan replied truthfully, though a few butterflies had resumed flapping away in his empty stomach at the Dinkleys’ unexpected appearance. Grasping Harold’s hand he shook firmly— without even thinking about the traces of incredibly sticky purple jam that he hadn’t been able to get off yet.

Unfortunately, Harold noticed as soon as he had drawn his hand back, though to his credit he tried not to draw attention to the fact. Ethan did that himself, for his small social blunder brought on the advent of a full-blown butterfly swarm. In two seconds his smooth confidence was set back a good ten years.

"Oh, man—sorry about that," he apologized hurridly. "I was helping Scooby... and the plate was gonna tip... and I got that all over my hands... thought I got it all off, though. Can I get you a wet napkin or something?"

"Not necessary," Harold assured him. "Why don’t we get something to eat, sit down for a bit, and talk?" Ethan gulped. Uh, oh. The talk, he thought with dread, though Harold seemed perfectly friendly.

"Uh, sure," Ethan agreed, and the three of them commenced filling their plates.

"He certainly is nervous," Harold noted to his wife, Ethan out of earshot.

"I know... isn’t it sweet!" Marilyn sighed. "Now let’s try not to intimidate him, Harold. We want to like him."

"We do?" Harold joked, deadpan. It was not difficult to figure out from whom Velma had inherited her sarcastic wit.

The three of them sat down at a small table and took a few bites of food before heading seriously into conversation. Though Ethan never would have sensed it, Harold was just as nervous as he was. Velma had never had a boyfriend before, and he just didn’t know how he should go about the first meeting. "So, Ethan," he began with a business-like throat clear, "what are your prospects?"

Ethan couldn’t believe her father had actually said that! His face must have registered his surprise, for Marilyn, the group’s sole serene influence, noticed and cut in.

"Now, Harold, let’s not be Victorian about this!" she laughed. "Besides, he’s dating her, not asking for her hand in marriage!" Not yet, she nearly added, but held it back just in time, not wanting to put more pressure on the young man. Still, she had a feeling about him...

Harold immediately felt embarrassed by his incredibly dated question. He’d blurted it before he’d even thought about it. "You’ll have to forgive me, Ethan," he explained. "This is new to me."

Ethan smiled, relaxing after hearing Harold’s honest admission. "No, that’s okay. My prospects... well, I guess they aren’t too great right now. I just got out of college and I’m going to try for a career in music, so, you know... not very stable."

"That’s true, but I think its admirable that you are going to pursue a career you truly have interest in," Harold said, impressed by Ethan’s directness. "My wife and I are marine biologists, and it was difficult at first to find work in that field. But it worked out, and we have the satisfaction of doing a job we enjoy."

"Yeah, Velma told me about going on some of your research trips when she was little. It sounds really cool."

"We have a trip to Florida coming up at the end of next month and we’ve invited Velma to come with us," Marilyn said. "We’re turning it into a sort of family vacation. You’re welcome as well, Ethan, if you’d like." She and Harold met eyes; they had discussed the matter beforehand and were in total agreement. It would be a good chance to get to know Velma’s new boyfriend better, and give them some time to spend together as well. Though their relationship was only about two weeks old, Harold and Marilyn had heard enough about it from their daughter to know that it was serious. They themselves had had a very short courtship period—only a month, in fact.

Ethan of course was flabbergasted. "Really? Wow... I mean, yeah—of course!"

"Wonderful," Harold confirmed, just as he noticed Ethan suddenly rise from his chair into a standing position. Turning to follow his sightline, he saw his daughter approaching the table. Immediately Marilyn was out of her seat and enveloping the young woman in a warm, very motherly hug. The small, close-knit family had not been all together in nearly five months.

"Oh, look at you!" Marilyn exclaimed to Velma, holding her out at arm’s length.

"I know," Velma smiled in admission. She still hadn’t adjusted to the break in her years-old wardrobe routine.

Harold stepped forward, getting a hug of his own. "We’re so proud of you, Velma," he said quietly. Both he and Marilyn had already expressed this at length over the phone, but he said it again anyhow.

"Thank you, Father," Velma replied against his coat lapel.

"I think the ‘thank yous’ need to come from us, dear," Marilyn softly corrected, a tender look on her face. Ethan stood back from the group, feeling uncomfortably like he was spying on a private family moment. When they came apart from their round of hugging, the sensitive Marilyn noticed this immediately. "We’ve just been talking with this handsome young man of yours," she informed Velma with a knowing smile.

"Hey, love," Ethan addressed her, using the new pet name he’d picked out for her the night before. As parents and daughter moved to sit back down at the table, he held the chair for her in the gentleman-like way he’d been taught, then asked if he could get her anything to eat. Both parents were impressed. So many men Ethan’s age had forgotten gentlemanly manners, and the smooth and practiced way in which he did them proved that he was not simply showing off for their benefit.

"We were just inviting Ethan to join us in Florida next month," Marilyn filled her daughter in.

"Can you come?" Velma asked at once.

"Yeah," he answered, and the two shared a long look.

"Ethan was also telling us a little bit about his music," Harold added. "I must say I’m impressed that you went to college to formally study the art. So many music entertainers that are popular now have no real training, don’t read music or play instruments."

"Oh, I know," Ethan replied. "I hate that, because it gives a bad impression of real musicians who can do those things—like it’s not worthwhile."

"Indeed," Harold agreed. "I suppose that’s why we stick to our classical—and classic rock.," he laughed. "You wouldn’t think so, would you?"

"I love that!" Ethan enthused. "Classic rock—and I like some classical, too, every once and a while. You wouldn’t think that about me, either, so I guess we’re even. Hey, maybe I can get you to listen to some heavy metal sometime?" he joked.

"What we’d really like is to hear you play," Marilyn chimed in.

"He played some of his songs for me last night," Velma revealed. "They’re incredible."

"Are you going to be treating us tonight, Ethan?" Harold inquired. "I heard the host saying that you should."

"I hadn’t even thought of it before he said that. I don’t know if he was serious or not... but I mean, I’d do it."

"It would be a great opportunity for you," Harold noted. "You’d certainly gain some major exposure— this gala is being broadcast worldwide!"

"You’ll get up there," Velma stated confidently. "He practically said you could." She smiled inwardly. Ethan didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t going to be the only one taking the stage that night...

Oh, man I shouldn’t have said I’d do this, Ethan thought frantically to himself as he stood on the low stage, a spotlight illuminating him to the large room. Though he couldn’t see them because of the glare of the lights and the cloaking darkness beyond the stage, he could sense the hundreds of eyes watching expectantly—and the eyes of the cameras that would broadcast his image onto millions of television screens around the world. What was I thinking!!!??? Well, okay, I know what I was thinking. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, the big break that’s almost impossible to get, and I’ve got it. These words did nothing to calm his nervous state-- in fact, they did quite the opposite. A wave of fear swept over him, turning his insides cold and twisting his stomach painfully.

Ethan had performed live of course, many a time, but this was an entirely new league. It didn’t matter that he’d played the song perfectly the night before-- I don’t even know which song to play! He’d thought he had figured that out definitely before, but now his mind was wracked with indecision as he gripped the neck of his guitar in a sweat-coated palm, the polished wood feeling slippery and unsteady in his grasp. Worse than that, his fingers felt all wrong—cold and trembly and stiff all at once. His throat wasn’t faring much better, what with the hard lump of fear that had firmly lodged itself there, and his mouth was uncomfortably dry. I guess that leaves out any singing, he noted, striking a few more songs from his repertoire, which was limited as it was in the situation. Most of his songs involved an electric guitar, but he’d wanted to use his own instrument rather than borrow one belonging to the orchestra. All he’d brought was his acoustic. There was something comforting about using one’s own guitar; it was safer, too, performance-wise.

What the young guitarist could not have known at that moment was that no one in the audience—except for perhaps a few seasoned performers in attendance—was picking up on his fear. His stage training was so well ingrained that it masked his inner emotions. Steadying himself, Ethan took a deep, slow breath, trying to drive the cold shakiness from his limbs and hands.

"Hey, I’m Ethan Dace," he announced, his voice carried over the sweeping room by a microphone clipped to his lapel. Some of the college kids yelled out enthusiastically. "They said I could play a song for you, so here goes." He had no experience making introductions for himself (but for his name and song selection when he had to do performance finals at school) but he did the best he could, the slight nervous tremor in his voice evening out over the course of his first sentence. "First I want to do..." Ethan was about to name one of his older compositions for acoustic, one that was challenging but not nearly so much so as some of his newer ones. He knew it probably wasn’t the most impressive thing he could start out with... Suddenly he had a burst of inspiration, and began to tune his guitar to a new key, strumming softly as he spoke. "Well, this is really new— to tell you the truth I haven’t even written lyrics to it yet." More steadily, he continued, the way before him clear. "But you know— maybe it doesn’t need them. I don’t know; you can tell me what you think." He paused. "This song is Velma’s. It’s everything I feel for her."

Twenty seconds into the song, the audience was awestruck-- held captive by the haunting strains that Ethan had played for his love the night before on the beach. It wasn’t just the technical skill involved in his playing, nor the intricate chords and unconventional minor melody. It seemed to create a mood all its own: beautiful-- not quite sad but displaying intense longing. Velma herself could hardy breathe, even though she’d heard the song already. It sounded even better to her now, and her eyes were brimming with tears, for she knew its private significance even more than Ethan did. It was during that song, after all, that she had realized her love for him. Marilyn too was sniffling, and Harold stared unblinking at the young man onstage. It wasn’t just the man’s talent that held him. Just as the song had shown the depth of Ethan’s love to Velma, it confirmed it to her father as well. This boy loved his daughter, he realized—really loved her.

The song wove a spell so complete that when Ethan brought it to a close, no one made a sound. Complete silence—so quiet that he could hear the beating of his own heart as it sped up again with the nervousness he’d forgotten during his playing. What’s wrong? he asked himself, unnerved. I thought I did okay. He knew it was actually more than okay; though not conceited in any way, he knew when he’d done a good job and when he hadn’t. He’d done a good job this time—the best job, in fact, that he thought he’d ever done. He’d just placed an image of his love’s face in front of him and played to it for all he was worth. His fingers had flown over the strings nearly effortlessly—a sensation he’d never before experienced-- and this was his most difficult song.

When the applause came, it came all at once and at such a volume that Ethan was visibly taken aback. The guests clapped with all their might, punctuating it with cheers and yells. "Thanks," he addressed them quietly, unsure of what do with such a reaction. It was all too much. The chance of a lifetime... and he’d done well—really well! Ethan let out a pent-up, smiling sigh. "Thanks, guys. It’s so great to get to do this..."

"Another one!" came the call of numerous voices all around the room.

"Ethan, how about another one for us?" came the voice of the host from somewhere out in the dark.

"Uh, yeah, if you guys all want one." Another round of cheers was his answer.

So Ethan played some more, continuing on with the song he’d planned to do before. He sang for that one, impressing the guests with his light baritone. When that was met with yet another request from the audience to keep playing, he accepted the offer of an electric guitar, and, taking off his suit coat, played three songs that went from a more classic rock sound to a downright heavy metal style. Picking up on the beat, the percussionists from the orchestra joined in, and the excited college kids began dancing en masse. Even the light crew got in on it, swirling colored lights around the stage. Ethan was lost in a sea of adrenaline, playing the guitar as if his life depended on it. Velma, out dancing with Mystery, Inc. was even surprised—she’d never seen Ethan’s "wild side" before!

When he finally made his way down from the stage, nearly stumbling from the leftover adrenaline, he was met immediately by Velma, who threw herself into his arms in a very uncharacteristic manner. He met her embrace, picking her up and twirling her around in a circle.

"Velma, thank you!" he cried mid-twirl, then set her down as best he could. He was so shaky from the rush of what had just taken place that he couldn’t hold her up, light as she was.

"For what?" she smiled up at him. They were standing so close that their deep, excited breaths caused them to touch. "You did this all yourself."

"If you hadn’t... then I wouldn’t have..." he tried to explain, his mind whirling.

"Ethan?" she finally cut in.

"Yeah?"

"You’re fogging up my glasses." She looked at him pointedly—and then they both broke out laughing.

"Talk about your deja vu..." Ethan started, but was cut off mid-comment when Velma jumped up against him, flinging her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss that nearly knocked him over.

"Jinkies," Ethan gasped when it ended—and when he could catch his breath.

"My thought exactly," Velma replied, smiling wryly.

The two were interrupted by the host, who had been standing off to one side, eager to talk to the young musician but obviously not wanting to bust in on the romantic goings-on. "Excuse me, Mr. Dace?" he finally came forward. Both Ethan and Velma turned to meet him.

"Just Ethan’s cool," Ethan said. He wasn’t much used to the more formal address, though it felt good to be acknowledged as an adult. Because of his appearance, he sometimes was treated like a young teenager, when in actuality he was in his early twenties and very much an adult.

"Thank you," the host accepted. "That was some playing you did up there, Ethan."

"Thanks," Ethan replied modestly. "And thanks for suggesting it— it was—well you can guess what a big deal this is for me."

"That’s that I want to speak to you about. Your playing—and your compositions—were remarkable. The audience clearly loved you."

Ethan remembered then that this man had once hosted a talent show on TV. He gulped, realizing that this conversation might have far more importance attached to it than he knew. "Thanks," he said again, not sure what else to say.

"I mean, you’re as good as anyone out there right now, and I was impressed. Very impressed, and I know a lot of producers who saw that performance are going to be, too." Ethan nodded, feeling as if he were living a dream. "I do have ties to many of them, and I’ve already had two calls, asking me who you are and how they can get in contact. So if it’s alright with you, I’d like to get your phone number and address so I can pass it along to them..."

"Sure," Ethan stammered, floored. This doesn’t happen—this never happens! Is this really happening?! He was only vaguely aware of Velma’s hand tightening on his, and of a notepad and pencil being offered to him. Groping through a mental fog, he managed to remember the necessary information and write it on the pad. His writing didn’t look like it normally did—his hand was trembling as he wrote.

"Great," the host said, taking up the pad and looking over it briefly. "I want you to take my card, too," he added, drawing one out of his inside tux pocket. "We’ll be in contact." Ethan reached forward, taking it, still trying to shake himself out of his daydream-like state. And here I didn’t know if I’d like a gala, he thought almost giddily. This is the best night of my life!

He didn’t know it, but it was only going to get better.

"Ethan, that was incredible!" Gregg exclaimed, slapping his brother across the shoulders. He and his brothers came upon Ethan in a mass as soon as they spotted him through the crowd, hugging and hi-fiving.

"You rocked!" Scott added. "Totally rocked!"

"Thanks guys!" Ethan said, still floating on cloud nine.

"We’re really proud of you, Eth," Aidan put in. "That’s so cool that you’re going to pursue a career. You’re good enough."

"Thanks," Ethan said again, gratefully.

"Mom and Dad must be going nuts," said Gregg. "You bet they’re watching." Ethan nodded quickly. His parents were more than supportive of his music, and had encouraged him in a music career, though some of his other relatives had not been quite so enthusiastic. He couldn’t blame them—it was a risky, unstable profession, and hard to break into. But now...

"You guys aren’t going to believe this, but you know how the host used to do that talent search show on TV?" he started in a rush. His brothers nodded. "He’s got some ties to the music business and he talked to me afterward—some producers have called about me! And he got my number to give to them and gave me his card and..."

"Eth—that’s terrific!" Gregg cried, similar protestations from his brothers quickly following his words. "I bet Velma’s happy for you, too."

"Yeah, she is!"

"Hey, where is she?" Aidan asked. "Don’t tell me you let your dream girl get away from you again!"

"She said she had to go do something for the gala... I guess an interview or something," Ethan explained. "She really didn’t... say..." Ethan was stopped by an announcement, carried clear and loud over the sound system.

"Ladies and gentleman, it’s about time for us to bring this evening to a close..." A chorus of disappointed "ahhh"s swept over the crowd. "But before we do that, we’re going to have one last special song. The singer really needs no introduction... and I don’t think I need to tell you the name of that special someone she’d like to dedicate it to, either. So without further ado... Mystery Inc.’s very own—Miss Velma Dinkley."

Off his cue, the horn and percussion sections began playing an introduction over the preliminary applause, accompanied by a bass guitar. Harold and Marilyn looked at one another, recognizing the Frankie Valli song immediately. It had always been one of Velma’s favorites—"Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You." But was she really going to sing it in front of hundreds—no, millions of people?

She was-- though, waiting in the inky darkness of the stage for the lights that would expose her to the world, she was certainly nervous. Nervous, perhaps even scared... but determined. Her entire life she had been one to hold back her feelings, and now that she was learning to let them go, she wanted to show the world. Show them that she was learning, and that she loved the greatest guy in the world. Granted, this was a drastic way to do it... Jinkies, I hope I don’t regret this, she thought, another wave of nerves washing over her. I’ve done this before, but this time I have to do it sober!

As the final bars of the intro were played, a single blue-tinted spotlight slowly came up, revealing a gleaming black grand piano front and center—and a lovely brunette in a red dress reclining upon it. Propped up on one elbow, her other arm was draped languidly over her hip. Her loosely-styled bangs fell forward in a flirty manner, and her look was bordering on the sultry. Gazing at her, Ethan forgot to breathe. Harold and Marilyn exchanged another look. The four remaining members of Mystery, Inc. could only stare in surprise.

You’re just too good to be true, she began in her low alto voice, her voice gliding over the words. Though it was impossible for her to actually see Ethan from the stage, no one would have known it from the look in her eyes.

I wanna hold you so much

At long last love has arrived, she sang, holding out her hands in front of her.

Can’t take my eyes off of you. She concluded the first verse, sliding her glasses down a bit on her nose and looking over them in an uncharacteristic show of flirty-ness. Ethan, who by this time had been nudged and guided forward by the grinning college students, was struck again by the resemblance to his drawing. He’d had no idea how much that meant to her.

The lights on the stage again changed, casting Velma into silhouette as the orchestra skipped the second verse and went directly into the middle swing section. As the horns played and the college students whistled and called, Velma began a hip-swinging dance, causing even more reaction from the crowd. They clapped enthusiastically along with the beat, and several young men pulled lighters from their pockets and swayed them back and forth, though the song was really too upbeat to indicate it. Leading them was the very man who had "proposed" to Velma the day of the rescue— though she’d ended up falling in love with "that heavy metal guy," he was still her biggest fan!

As the horns played the final flare of the bridge before launching the chorus, a bright white spotlight came up full on Velma. She thrust her arms back, causing her shawl to fly dramatically to the floor—right on the beat. The young guests really made a noise then, voicing their approval with a chorus of encouraging shouts. Elated by their energy and by her feelings for the young man who had never held back anything from her, Velma could literally feel herself let go.

I LOVE YOU BABY! she sang out full voice, at the top of her lungs, flinging her arms into the air to the cheers of the crowd. The sound technicians, not expecting such an outburst, quickly scrambled over their instruments, adjusting.

To warm the lonely night

"I hope she’s talking about her honeymoon," Harold commented dryly to his wife. He was thrilled to see his daughter loosening up—a lesson he’d had to learn himself—but these things had limits, after all!

Trust in me when I say... Velma held the note on a glissando, sliding it up... just as she made a ‘come-hither’ gesture with her finger. She still couldn’t see Ethan, but she knew he would come.

OH, PRETTY BABY Her voice "dragged" on the words, causing another outbreak of cheers and whistles. Her guy fan catcalled approvingly, and several other guys echoed in agreement.

Slowly, as she sang, she stepped down from the piano, using a stepstool that had been placed there for that purpose. And let me love you, baby, let me love you... Reaching the edge of the low stage, she stooped slightly and reached out a hand to Ethan, gently caressing his cheek. For a moment she stopped singing as he lifted her down, then held her lightly in his arms. The orchestra waited for her last line. Looking into Ethan’s eyes, she finished.

As the audience let loose with their applause, Velma and Ethan stood in one another’s arms, lost in their own world.

"I love you so much," she told him, voice ardent.

"I love you," he replied just as fervently, then pulled her into a body-enveloping hug. She rested her cheek against his chest, secure and content, feeling him lightly stroke her hair. Despite her limited range of vision, she could see from the corner of her eye her parents, beaming proudly, and her other family—Mystery, Inc. They were applauding her as well—even Scooby in his doggie way. Fred and Daphne nuzzled one another, caught up in the romance, while Shaggy squeezed Mary Jane to his side with one arm.

Jinkies, I never realized before how much love people have given me—not with all this attention, but just by my family, my friends... and now Ethan. Velma’s heart overflowed with love in return—love she was finally learning to express. My "journey of self-discovery" isn’t over, she thought with certain clarity. I suppose it never truly will be-- should anyone ever stop learning about themselves, trying to improve? But I’ve come so far, and learned so much... and... She paused, smiling at the sight of all those so dear to her. I’ve found the people I want to travel with... for the rest of my life.