If It Makes Him Happy (based on your Mer!John)
Every week John would wait patiently behind the rocks for the human. He had happened upon the silent figure by accident some months back. The human had been so quiet, so still, John had almost swam out openly in front of him that first time. He’d barely managed to duck behind the rocks, fearful of having been seen.
But as John watched the man, he didn’t seem to have seen John’s glistening fluke, nor heard the frantic splash has he had dived under the surface. There was a thoughtful expression on his face, his eyes closed, flicking back and forth under his lids. His hands were tilted, held gently under his chin, steepled. Occasionally his lips would move in silent words, or his eyes would open, hands sinking to his sides, as he’d watch the ripples on the water.
John watched him, fascinated that a human could sit in one place, quietly for so long. From his experience, humans were busy creatures. Noisy to the extreme, never taking the time to slow down and just listen to what the elements had to tell them. This one was different. Once a week, he’d come and sit. John began to notice his pattern and would sneak off to wait for and watch him. John noticed when the man would arrive, his face would be tight and sometimes he’d be holding his head in his hands, as if it were causing him great pain. When he would leave, his face would be relaxed, calm, sometimes a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
As summer progressively moved towards fall and the weather chilled, John worried that the man would stop coming. He had begun to treasure those hours every week, where he could watch the human. He felt a connection he couldn’t quite explain, an affection that bubbled within him when he would see him. But the man continued to come. Even with fall’s crisp chill, he’d sit on the bank and stare, shivering slightly despite his warm coat.
John thought back to something he had just seen floating down stream. He had seen humans wearing them around their necks as the weather chilled. Perhaps this would help warm him. He swam as fast as he could to grab the blue piece of cloth that had hung on a limb. Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach he lept out of the water, placing the scarf around the man’s neck. Then realizing what he’d just done, blushing, he dove back under the water.
Sherlock sat on the bank blinking. What just happened? He’d known for a time now he was being watched. He’d eventually realized by what. He had hoped to meet the merman for sometime, but merpeople were notoriously shy. And he didn’t want to frighten away the first one he had the chance of meeting. So when the merman had popped up from the brine, placed the wet scarf around his neck, he hadn’t been able to react fast enough. He’d called out, reached out as the merman dove back under the water trying to catch his attention, unsuccessfully. He reached up, gingerly touching the damp scarf, before realizing what the merman had tried to do with his gesture.
John watched from under the surface. A look of wonder and gratitude crossed the man’s face as he touched the scarf. And then to John’s great joy, he smiled. The next week when John saw him on the bank, he was wearing the scarf, a smile, and a look of hope.