Velma Dinkley (Scooby Doo) by Gatsha

"My glasses... I've lost my glasses!"

On her hands and knees underneath a conspicuously dustless cherry-wood cabinet in an otherwise dust-covered spooky manor, Velma Dinkley spoke her second best-known catch phrase. Mystery Inc.'s most prolific clue-finder was easily recognizable in this position: her round, freckled face framed by her chestnut-brown bob and her beady eyes not framed by her persistently-lost square-framed glasses; her thick orange turtleneck sweater, straight red pleated skirt above her knees, and orange knee-high stockings over her slightly thick thighs.

She wasn't sure what had possessed Freddy to "split up the gang" so that she was the only one searching the upstairs, but it had come back to bite her in predictable fashion. Her search for a clue under suspicious furniture had turned into a search for her glasses. Even in good light, she was blind as a bat without them, and this place was lit like a tomb. Since she expected she was alone, her cries were really only to try and let the others downstairs know she was temporarily indisposed and to make sure, if someone was here, they weren't going to step on them and make her problem a whole lot worse.

In the past, she would have panicked with her glasses missing in the dark, in a creepy, unknown place with a monster (or, let's face it, a masked criminal) stalking around. With enough experience, such things had gotten more run of the mill. It wasn't as scary any more, but it was still just as frustrating.

There was a silver lining, though. At least when she was alone, she didn't have to worry about anyone trying to peek up her skirt while she was on her hands and knees. She couldn't be sure of it, but she had some idea that, recently, someone was watching her in situations. It'd be easy to guess it was the monster, but it felt like it wasn't persistent... only when there was a chance to take a perverted peep. Was it Shaggy? Freddy? Daphne? Without any clues, she wasn't ruling anyone out.

Or... was she? Were there really no clues? Pausing her search and her focus on one mystery temporarily, Velma puzzled the more pressing mystery out. "If it was Shaggy, I'd definitely hear his stomach or Scooby's. If it was Fred... Wouldn't Fred split us up so he was with me instead of with the other three members of the gang, if that was what he wanted? So... that leaves Daphne?! J-Jinkies!!"

As she shouted her first-best-known catchphrase, Velma tried to shoot to her feet and forgot she was under a table. There was a loud jostling of furniture, but more importantly, a click. A bookcase to her left began to slowly rotate, giving way to a hidden passage...

A fact totally lost on the still-blind detective who'd lucked into it, rubbing her sore head in frustration. She was a little annoyed by the bump, sure, but she was more annoyed that it had happened on an impulsive deduction she was already discarding. Danger-prone Daphne, sneaking around out of sight and staring up her skirt? That was hard to imagine.

"I'm as disoriented as Freddy's driving, and we ended up here heading for the ocean!" she groaned. "And, gee, those glasses are slippery this time. I think the last place I haven't checked is over here..." Fumbling blindly, the young woman crept across the floor. Passing by the rotated bookcase, she entered an unfamiliar backroom and left behind the glasses she'd been just a foot from reaching.

"If I don't find them soon, one of the gang'll probably gonna come looking for me. That'd be embarrassing," she grumbled, unaware of just what embarrassment lay ahead of her and how much more she stood to lose than her glasses...