Winter Shadows
Chapter 1: Into the Night

Y'know... it's got to be some sort of crime that nobody's done this crossover already. Set right after Where's My Mummy for Scooby Doo, because Velma needs to get rid of that Idiot Ball she got stuck with. And shortly post-Steve for Blue's Clues, because Joe needs love too.
(Reading my other BC fic, Believing In Magic, will make some of this make more sense, but it shouldn't be necessary.)

It was nearly midnight when she slipped out of the hotel. The wind blasted her as soon as she stepped out the door and she cringed—it was really only in the fifties, but the wind chill was killer. Should've brought a coat. Oh well... she wasn't about to go back in now. Someone might see her.

Velma paused on the sidewalk just in front of the door and shook her head, irritated. Had it really come to this? Sneaking around like a criminal in hopes of dodging her best friends? Really, how had this mess started?

Oh, wait. She knew how this mess had started, and it was her own fault, so... right.

They weren't actually following her—or at least, if they were, they were doing a pretty good job of staying hidden. She doubted it. It was just a little hard not to be paranoid under the current circumstances.

What's there for you to be paranoid about? You're the one that caused all the problems.

The dark voice in the back of her mind fell silent as her eyes narrowed. It was true, of course—it was what had driven her out here, and what had her convinced she was being watched. The gang should be keeping an eye on her. They shouldn't really trust her, not anymore. Not after...

Oh sheesh. Come off it.

Telling herself to drop the subject didn't help, so she started walking. She didn't know her way around this city; wasn't even sure of its name. The gang was on their way to investigate a haunted house on the west coast—this was just a stopping point. One of many. How many places had they gone through in search of mysteries, anyway? She could never quite be bothered to pay attention when there weren't clues to be found. Especially not lately when she had her own sulking to concentrate on.

She located a small park on the outskirts of the town and flopped onto a bench. Much better. It was late, she was tired, but the wind chill kept her mostly alert. Not that she could sleep anyway—that was why she'd snuck out. Over the last week she'd found herself on a mostly nocturnal schedule, sleeping in the back of the Mystery Machine while they were on the road. It was easier that way.

Velma was angry.

Not at the rest of the gang; not even close. She was angry at herself. Slightly over a month later, half a world away from Egypt, she was still horribly on edge.

Had she really faked her own death to try to scare her friends off? Had she really expected that to work?

Oh, they'd forgiven her. Hell, they didn't seem to have been angry in the first place; maybe they really weren't. Maybe they even bought her ridiculous story about trying to protect them. Because, after the hundreds of monsters—real and fake—that she and the gang had faced off against, of course she'd expected one more ghost to scare them off. Stupid. No, that wasn't it at all.

It all went back to another night, another smaller town, though she knew the name of that one all too well. Oakhaven. A shudder ran down her spine even now when she thought it. Oakhaven... where she'd learned something about trust. Or perhaps forgotten it. And ever since then, though she tried her best to hide it, nothing had been the same.

The end result? Her stupid attempt to try to keep the rest of the gang out of the mummy ploy, lest they somehow botch the whole thing. Which of course they'd done anyway, since she hadn't let them in on the plan.

Trust was important... she needed to remember that.

So here she was, alone. At this hour, of course, the park was otherwise deserted. Just her and the stars and the heavy footsteps of some animal behind her...

Wait, what?

Turning, Velma saw a dark, very familiar shape trotting up, breaking into a run as her eyes locked on it. "Scooby?"

"Relma!" The dog bounded over the back of the bench and landed squarely on top of her, licking her face. "Relma! Ri found roo!"

Velma burst into giggles. She couldn't help it; something about a dog as big as she was pouncing on her made all attempts to keep her composure go out the window. Not that there were any windows out here. "Okay, okay! You found me!" Reaching up and scratching him behind the ears earned her a little bit of breathing space. "Scooby, what're you doing out here?"

"Rooking for roo," he answered promptly.

Velma raised an eyebrow. "Looking for me?" Granted she'd been worried about being followed, but this was not who she'd have expected to have spying on her.

Scooby nodded and hung his head. "Ri got rocked out rooking for a rack... Raggy's rindow was rosed, rhen I raw roo. Ran I rorrow rour rey?"

A fresh fit of giggles washed over the girl. She couldn't help it. So much for paranoia. Of course he'd be outside because of some food-related crisis. And... he'd helped. Despite herself she felt better with Scooby there, just being Scooby. He always had that effect on her. And it was still a bit chilly, so... it felt like she'd barely been out here at all, but Velma decided it really was time to go back in. This time. "Okay, let's head back."

"Rokay!"

Velma stood and turned around, then hesitated. She'd been lost in thought while she was traveling, and hadn't exactly paid attention to where she was going. "Um... Scooby, do you happen to know how to get back to the hotel from here?"

He shook his head. "Ruh-uh, ron't roo? ...Ruh-roh."

"So if I asked you where we're going... would you tell me?"

"Bow bow bow!"

"You don't know? Okay, that works."

Midnight didn't really seem like the best time for a random trek down the street, Joe mused as he followed the bright blue puppy trotting just ahead of him. Blue didn't seem to share his opinion. She'd insisted on going outside now. Fair enough—though he was a little confused as to why they'd come this far out. Surely Blue had noticed when they'd crossed the boundary... or at least that the mailboxes weren't talking anymore.

Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure Blue hadn't encountered non-talking mailboxes in a very long time. Maybe that was the point.

"Bowbow bowbow bowbow bow... bow! Bowbowbow!" The puppy's barking softly to herself reached a crescendo and she tore off abruptly. "Bowbowbow!"

"Wha—Blue? Blue, come back!" She ignored him, as she tended to do when her mind was set on something, and a flicker of light caught his eye. She'd seen a firefly. "Blue..." Oh, what's the point? A slight grin crossed his face. Joe knew when he was beat. "Blue, wait for me!" And with that he was sprinting into the darkness after her.

When he caught up, Blue was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk with the firefly perched on her nose. The two seemed to be having an animated conversation, if Blue's barks and the firefly's flickers were any sign; no surprise there. When he reached them, the insect fluttered up, flashed its light a few times, then took off into the night again.

Joe patted the puppy's head as she turned her attention back to him. "Having fun?"

"Bow!"

"So tell me the truth, did you wake me up and bring me outside for a reason, or did you just want to come out and play?"

"Bow bow bowbow."

He chuckled. "That's a reason. Right. I walked into that one." In the months since Steve had left for college, Joe found himself occasionally surprised at how quick-witted Blue could be. Not that he'd ever thought the puppy was stupid, but she was still a puppy.

So much for that. He shrugged it off and tried to get his bearings, and that led to a whole new set of problems.

Joe never felt entirely comfortable in these forays back into the normal world, what those in the world of magic simply referred to as 'the outside.' By rights he should know his way around the city he'd grown up in, but he'd tried to forget most of that... but then, he'd not spent much time on this side of town, and geography had never been his strong suit anyway. So when he looked around and realized he didn't recognize anything around them, his stomach dropped a little. "Um, Blue?"

"Bow?"

"Do you know where we are?"

She cocked her head and looked around, then barked quietly, "Bow-bow."

Uh-oh.

Well, not much to be done for it. "May as well keep going then. There's got to be somewhere in town that's open all night, we can get some directions."

"Bow bow!"

"A park? I don't think we'll find any dir... oh." He looked at where Blue was pointing. Definitely a bit high on the grass-to-asphalt ratio, considering they were in the middle of the city. "You'd rather go there than home, huh?"

"Bow!"

Why not? It was just chilly enough to keep him awake, and Blue certainly didn't seem sleepy. "Lead the way!"

It was a common misconception that geniuses noticed everything. Velma was observant, yes... but she was vulnerable to not paying attention just like anyone else. She'd probably spent five minutes trying to mentally retrace her steps from the hotel, and gotten nowhere at all, when she caught sight of something moving on the other side of the park.

Her first reaction was concern; it was late, and dark, and the place was otherwise deserted...

"Relma, rook! A rog!"

Oh! Scooby was right, she realized, looking more closely. The movement was a dog, bounding cheerfully through the grass. Velma relaxed. "Maybe it's got an owner around here too? Doesn't look like a stray," she mused, studying the distant form more carefully. It looked like a puppy.

Bizarrely, in the darkness, the puppy almost looked blue.

"Reah, raybe," Scooby agreed. "...Ro rut?"

"So maybe we can ask them for directions."

"Ro, right. Ri'll rask!" With that he broke into a run towards the puppy.

Scooby's flying charges were impressive, and even his human companions tended to get out of the way when he started running at them. Affection was nice, but he was an awfully large dog. So Velma was surprised when the puppy looked up and held its ground, barking enthusiastically as Scooby skidded to a halt just in front of it.

"Bowbow!"

"Rello!"

Velma chuckled and left the two canines to get acquainted, looking around to see if the puppy had an owner anywhere. Her eyes kept being drawn back to the little dog, though. It wasn't just the lighting. It was definitely blue. Surely her eyes couldn't be getting even worse, but... who'd ever heard of a blue dog?

Then again, who'd ever heard of a talking dog?

The blue puppy had turned around to bark something in the direction she'd come from, and within a few seconds, a wiry young man in a purple shirt and cargo pants came jogging up, apparently answering the puppy's barks as he did so. "...but, do you really have to run off li... oh! Hi there." This last was directed at Scooby; Velma, while within earshot, was hardly at conversational distance.

"Rello," Scooby answered cheerfully, raising a paw in greeting.

The newcomer did a double take, which wasn't unusual, but recovered quickly. Almost too quickly. "Making new friends?" he inquired of the puppy, kneeling down and scratching its ears.

"Bow!"

"Excellent." He returned his attention to Scooby. "So, um, is anyone here with you? Or maybe you can help... we're kind of lost."

That was not what Velma had wanted to hear.

Having a conversation with a dog was surreal. That thought amused Joe; talking kittens, alarm clocks, and mailboxes didn't faze him, but a talking dog? Weird. At least it was friendly.

It—he? Certainly sounded like a he—was giving Joe a somewhat worried look now. "Ruh... ruh-roh." Definitely a he. "Reah, we're rost roo."

Interpreting the words took a moment, but Joe got used to it quickly. Oh. Well that... kind of figures, actually. The dog had referred to a 'we' though, so surely... he raised his head and caught sight of a small girl watching them. She wore an orange turtleneck, thick glasses, and an expression that could best be described as resigned.

"Bow bowbow," Blue commented lightly. That's okay.

"Easy for you to say." He stood and approached the girl in orange. "So I, uh, guess I know what you'll say if I ask you for directions."

She nodded. "I was hoping to ask you the same thing."

So much for Plan A. He was about to say something else when a horrific screech of tires and brakes shattered his concentration.

Someone screamed.

At the time, Joe couldn't be certain whether anyone said anything or not. Looking back later, he was quite sure nobody had, yet suddenly they were all running in the direction of the sound. Why? He couldn't say with any certainty. On his part, maybe it was just reflexes; a scream clearly meant someone needed help. And he was pretty used to helping.

Oh, and Blue was running ahead of him. That always tended to get him moving. She was barking, too, which annoyed him, though he wouldn't say so. It wasn't her fault that dogs could hold a conversation at full sprint and humans couldn't.

"Bow? Bow bow bow bow?"

"Did I... see... what?" Breathing was coming much too hard as he ran. He'd played soccer for four years and was still perfectly in shape, but something in the air was... wrong.

"Bow bow." Guess not.

It was cold. The realization hit hard—it was incredibly cold, and only moments ago it hadn't been. Chilly yes, but nothing like this... it was like the temperature had plunged twenty degrees in twenty seconds. Joe was good at optimism, and this was no different; his first thought was that the frigid air explained why his lungs were burning so badly. "Blue, what'd... you see?"

She gave an animated series of barks—as always when she got too excited, it was impossible to understand a word she said—and glanced down at her left forepaw. Joe knew perfectly well what that was leading to, but it wouldn't really register until quite a bit later. He distracted easily, after all... and in truth, a much more focused individual than Joe would've been distracted by what happened next.

Something white drifted out of the sky in front of him. Something... then several somethings. On a night that had been over fifty degrees five minutes ago, snowflakes were beginning to fall.

There was an instant where Joe nearly lost it. Just a moment, but it was definitely there. He couldn't quite help remembering another night, another park, another snowfall... where he'd been equally lost, his companion had been a duck rather than a dog, and the whole episode had been notably bad for his health. Very bad.

Get it together. No freaking out around Blue. Steve would not approve.

Blue, for her part, was barking softly. "Bowwww... bowbow. ...Bow?"

"Yeah, snow?" the girl in the orange sweater muttered—Joe had almost forgotten she was there and jumped, startled. "This is very odd."

"Rhat's a runderstatement," her dog grumbled, earning an annoyed look. "Rhy are re rust randing rin it?"

"...Fair point. Come on, we'd better find some shelter." She motioned for Joe to follow, which surprised him; neither of them had the vaguest clue who the other was. In his own world it would've seemed natural, but on the outside it just seemed weird. Then again, if they were all lost together, they might as well attempt to get un-lost together.

Besides, that bright orange sweater was a pretty good beacon in the darkness, and in the rapidly-intensifying snowstorm. Why not follow it? It wasn't as if he had any better ideas.

It had all happened so fast.

Even while she was looking for somewhere to get out of the snow, Velma found herself desperately trying to get a grip on how this had come about. In less than five minutes, she'd met a stranger with a blue dog, heard a mysterious scream with no apparent source, and gotten caught in a patently impossible weather phenomenon. None of that was actually all that worrisome in itself, but coming together at such a rapid pace was throwing her. Just a little.

She just needed a moment to get her bearings, a little time to think. Then it would be fine. Chaos and making sense of the unknown? That was her element. But there wasn't any time with the snowstorm intensifying at a truly frightening rate.

It was not helping that the others were all following her like she knew what she was doing.

Their mad dash at the sound of the scream had brought the ragtag group to a road, but all the storefronts were dark. She checked a couple of doors; locked, just as she'd expected, which left them with few options. Daphne was the lockpicking expert of the gang, not Velma. Breaking in would probably be frowned upon, even under these circumstances, and she didn't have a cheesy costume handy anyway—

—Don't even go there.

Sharply cutting herself off before she could start thinking about her last costumed exploits, she headed for a small gap between two of the buildings. If they couldn't get somewhere with a roof, at least the alley's walls would block most of the snow. Not to mention the wind, which was picking up quickly. Absurd as it was, it looked like they were in for a full-scale blizzard.

"Relma, rouldn't we ret rinside?"

"I'm working on that."

"Roh, rokay." Scooby was moving down the alley, checking a couple of side doors that proved to be locked, then he stopped and whimpered a bit. "Rit's rold!"

She chose not to tell him she'd actually noticed that on her own. "We're in about the best place we can be right now, short of being inside..." Which was sort of like saying that if you couldn't escape a burning building, it was best to be in a room with a window. "Let's keep looking." But all it really took was one glance in the direction of the road for her to decide she didn't much want to be out there, either. Everything outside of the alley was a white blur.

Everything inside the alley was rapidly turning into a white blur too, but at least it was slightly better. For now. She could see flickers of blue and purple through the driving snow; their unwitting companions were looking around too, and seemed no more eager to brave the wide-open streets again than Velma was.

Eventually we have to reach a point where it can't get worse. Pretty soon, at this rate. And once we get there I guess we just kind of curl up and wait for it to be over? ...Not happening. Not a chance. We've lived through zombies and ghosts and aliens, we're not going to give in to a little bad weather.

"Come on!" She beckoned the others over, though waving her arms around like a maniac probably served no purpose beyond making her feel better. "If we just stay here we're going to be trapped outside for the duration." Nothing said they had to go charging into the middle of the road. They could follow the buildings and hope for the best...

"Ri've rot a retter ridea," Scooby declared. He was still sitting by one of the locked doors; if Velma squinted enough she could just make out what he was doing. Trying to pick the lock with one of his claws. But either the blizzard was obscuring his vision too much or the cold was numbing his paws, because he kept slipping. "Ruh... raybe rot."

"Keep trying!" It wasn't a half bad idea, really. Daphne would be proud.

A particularly savage gust of wind blasted through the alley, forcing her to stumble back again, and Scooby yelped and jumped away from the door. She heard the blue puppy barking an odd mix of encouragement and indignation—and, to her surprise, the cowering Great Dane straightened up and returned to his attempts at lockpicking.

Not bad...

A click, and Scooby pulled back, looking concerned. "Ruh roh... rit broke." Judging from the fact that his claw looked fine, he could only be talking about the lock itself.

Okay then. Bad.

This was not good. This was very not good. This was extremely not good. This was less good than any not-good thing ever.

...But that might have been understating the case a little.

Now what was that about getting it together? Yeah. Didn't think so. It was probably lucky that the wind was so cold, because it was hard to hyperventilate under these conditions. Otherwise Joe was pretty sure he'd be losing it by now, regardless of his brother's approval.

Maybe he was already losing it, just a little more subtly than the term usually indicated. All he was really doing right now was focusing on not losing it, which meant he wasn't being any more useful than he would be if he just snapped...

"Bow bow bow, bow babow!"

Huh? Joe turned in the direction of the sound, eyes wide. No way had he just heard that... he knew exactly what it meant when Blue barked in that rhythm, it just seemed too absurd at this point. What had she even found to skidoo into, out here in the middle of a deserted alley?

Moving up to where the sound had come from, he could barely make out a patch of differently-colored wall. Decidedly green. He couldn't make out anything else through the blizzard, but he had a suspicion... he reached out to touch it, and felt his fingers brushing over smooth paper rather than jagged brick. Of course. A poster—given the location, probably for a movie or something. And why not a movie poster, anyway? They'd skidooed into pretty much everything else.

If it hadn't been snow he might not have dragged the others along. He had to follow Blue, regardless, but that was his problem. Anyone else... well... no, that wasn't true at all. Snow or no snow, they were most assuredly in a crisis situation here, and if there was a way out he couldn't just take it himself.

Granted he didn't know if this would even work on the outside, but it never hurt to try. No, wrong. It would work. He'd heard Blue bark—he'd have heard her if she'd hit the wall rather than jumping through it—it had to work. "Over here!"

Flashes of orange and brown through the whiteout told him they'd approached, and it was more by sense than sight that he grabbed them by the arms and whirled back to the poster. No style points for this one. Blue skidoo, I hope we can too!

He jumped.