Trouble in Paradise

Chapter One

Sherlock was floating leisurely on his back. It had taken a lot of planning to get away from his horrid pod and have some time alone. The little secluded beach was his perfect place, no humans ever came there, and Mycroft knew nothing about it. Sherlock rolled onto his stomach, diving down and watching his tail with glee. It was the same color as his ice blue eyes. When Sherlock came up for air, he heard it, a yell, then splashing. He dove under again, feeling a lot of self-preservation. He saw the feet of a young man over by the rocks. He must have slipped in. The splashing was steadily becoming less and less, and Sherlock decided that he probably shouldn't let the human drown. If he died here then more people would come and find out about his beach. He swam quickly over to the rapidly sinking body and pulled it up above the water. Luckily, and foolishly on the boys part, he had come alone. Sherlock pushed the boy onto the rocks and pulled himself next to the body, rolling the suddenly quite attractive but pale blonde onto his side. Frowning, Sherlock didn't know how to continue. He was out of the water, why wasn't he alive? Sherlock slapped the boys back once, and suddenly the bright blue eyes snapped open, and the boy vomited up the clear sea water. As he coughed and spluttered Sherlock sat with his head turned to the side as he waited.

John... well, John was an idiot, and had come alone to the beach and then slipped into the water, idiot that he was, without being able to swim. The sea had always fascinated and terrified him at the same time, and he couldn't help himself. Luckily for John, however, there had been someone there, and he'd saved his life. He coughed up the last of the disgustingly salty water and gasped for breath, allowing himself to breathe for a bit before turning to his rescuer. He stared at the man sitting next to him, still trembling and breathing heavily. "Thank you," he said gratefully, his voice hoarse from the seawater.

Sherlock frowned slightly. He didn't know what the human was saying, though it sounded like some sort of thank you. The merman hummed in a non-committal kind of way. The Human wasn't dead; therefore his beach was still his sanctuary. "Ní raibh sé i bhfad de fadhb," he rumbled in reply, in his own tongue, tail, bare chest and hair glittering with specks of water that hadn't dried up yet.

John studied the man's face, his foreign tongue lost on him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but obviously they wouldn't be able to understand one another. He looked down... and froze. A tail. A tail? He had a... tail. Instead of legs, there was a long, shimmering, blue, scaly tail, still sparkling with droplets of water. John looked back up to his rescuer's face in confusion, finding that his eyes matched the shade almost perfectly.

The merman canted a brow at the man’s expression. "Tá rud éigin cearr?" He asked. Of course it was somewhat obvious what he was looking at, but it didn't hurt to converse a little. The man was literally unable to take his eyes of his tail, which he flicked slightly with a smirk.

It was beautiful, really; magnificent. John's eyes found their way to the strange tail again, lost in the way the sunlight danced off the glittering scales. "I... you're a..." John began and trailed off, dumbstruck and realizing that the... merman? ...wouldn't be able to understand him anyway. He forced himself to drag his gaze away from the merman's tail, and looked up at his face again. A handsome face, John realized with a flush. "You're one of the merfolk... from the tales..." He found himself saying, lost in those curious, icy eyes.

Sherlock blinked slowly. He had no idea what the boy was saying. He decided to let that be spoken. "Tá a fhios agat nach féidir liom a thuiscint ceart?" He smirked lightly. Why was he blushing? Was it the tail? It was probably the tail now that he thought about it. He looked down at his lower body, the bright scales like gems meshing together around a multitude of find that abled a bigger variety of movement. He flicked it slightly, huffing and looking back up. There was one way he would be able to understand but he wasn't going to do that.