Plagued by his insomnia, Johan looked up from the dull light of his computer screen over to the wall clock. Two in the morning. Still, he could not feel any fatigue.

           Large, dark circles had formed under his eyes, he was losing weight and his face had become gaunt. No longer could he bear to see himself in the mirror. His health was at risk, and his doctor had provided him with pills to help him sleep. Already he had taken the maximum dosage; any more and he would have another reason to fear for his life.

           Still, he could not feel any fatigue.

           It was that gentle scraping noise. It followed him everywhere. It kept him from sleeping. None of his friends could hear it. But he knew it was there. They must be lying.

           He could prove it, he just needed to…to…

           “Shit,” Morgan sighed, leaning back in her comfy computer chair. She had just hit the wall again. What had been a firm idea on the layout of the scene had become mere passing thoughts, like ice turning suddenly to mere wisps of steam.

           Looked like she’d have to scale back her writing next time she got to it and take it from there. Luckily, she thought, it would only be that last damnable sentence that would have to be removed.

           Even she wasn’t quite certain what the source of the noise was, but she shrugged off the lack of forethought with the rationalization that the less she knew about it herself, the better she could convey the mysteriousness of ‘the scraping’.

           Glancing at the calendar that hung on the wall behind her monitor, she smiled. No red circle in sight. When one was to be seen, it felt like a looming monolith. Something that was just strangely terrifying in its potential to simply tip over and flatten her on some inanimate whim.

           Without it, however, she knew that she was free to seize the day. Spotting the setting sun through the glass doors leading to the balcony at her right, she smiled. That view alone made the cottage worth every inconvenience.

            It was a half-hour drive from nearest town, one that – to get an image for its size – had only one gas station and one grocery store. From there, it was another hour and a half – two if one was worried about getting a ticket – from a real town; well, more of a city, really. Of course, going there was only necessary in the rare instance she’d need to speak with her publisher in person or with her ex for the sake of research.

Both of which, more times than not, were simplified by a simple phone or e-mail.

            Still, the television had little to offer without springing for satellite, renting movies was almost certainly out of the question unless she wanted films from the 80s. Of course, gone too was any easy access to specialty stores, restaurants, and many other life-simplifying accommodations. If she wanted something fixed or taken care of, she’d have to set aside a portion of her time to do it herself.

            But what a view. The dusk was directly in line from her balcony, seemingly dipping into the lake that lay just beyond. The trees that had not been cleared – ones that did not have the misfortune of once obstructing this view – were like many fingers reaching to help bring the setting sun to its resting place until the following morning.

            It was still early in the process, with the sky and the clouds taking a golden sheen, but before hues of red become visible.

            Feeling no urgency to resume work on her story – it wasn’t even a fantasy novel, after all – she saved the file, closed the program, and hurried through the cottage to the entrance.

            Before too long, she found herself running full speed towards the water’s edge where she kept her boat. It wasn’t fancy – she wasn’t that successful – just an aluminum boat with a motor, but it was enough to get her out on the lake and able to enjoy the rocking of the waves.

            The engine was needed only for a minute and she was far enough out in the water to feel at peace. A gentle breeze made small waves on the lake’s surface; enough to make the boat feel like a rocking cradle.

            Laying back in the boat and adjusting her lifejacket to use as a pillow, she stared up at the colorful sky. Once or twice in the time she stared up at the drifting golden clouds, she felt something in the water bump against her boat and figured that the fish were particularly active.

            Sitting up, she decided that with fish as brazen as to smack into her boat, this would be as good of time as any to get her fishing rod. With one jerk on the pull-cord, the motor started up and her boat suddenly rocked violently.

            Immediately, she killed the engine, fearing something had gone wrong with it to cause such a strong shaking. Peering into the water, she found a red tincture that was gradually becoming more prominent along with something floating up to the surface.

            From the size, color, and shape of what was rising, she believed it to be a dolphin; a thought that didn’t make sense to her; only raised further questions. Soon after, Morgan noticed that halfway up the sleek aquatic body became that of a man. From a gash beginning where – on a human – the thighs would be upwards along the side of the body up to a few inches shy of his ribs, blood leaded out to mix with the water.

            To an ordinary person, this may have raised more questions than had it been a dolphin. An ordinary person may have very well been afraid of either the concept of a ‘monster’ or the idea of possibly being responsible for the death of something that very closely appeared human.

            Morgan, however, lived for fantasy, and would have remained solely a fantasy author had some ideas for horror not have invaded her happy world and wound up making her a nice sum. The sight of a merman seemed to satisfy all questions she had and quickly pulled the wounded creature into the boat. This was an example of just what she wished was reality. This was something she could use in her stories. This was something she could – hopefully – communicate with and find more ways to blur the lines of reality and fantasy.

            This was a chance to have direct contact with someone other than the elderly couple who lived seven minutes by foot away.

            This was – after looking away from the tail for a moment – a chance to know someone who was easy on the eyes.

            Once sure that none of the merman was left in the water, she started the engine once more and brought the boat back to her property. When it came time to carry him from the boat and into her cottage – a literal uphill battle – she came to realize just how heavy he was. Placing the human portion of him on her back and wrapping his arms around her neck, she made her way up the gentle but continuous incline with his tail dragging on the ground as they went.

            The thought of him already being dead crossed her mind as she moved, but the feeling of his warm breath on her neck and the gentle movement of his chest as he breathed both dismissed that fear and left her toying with the idea of just how bad of an idea it would be to place a mint in his mouth.

            After a slow, steady march up and around the cottage to the entrance and a slight juggling act to push open the front door, she had to make a decision on where to put him.

           The guest bedroom wasn’t very far, and one of the beds would make for a nice, flat surface on which to place him while treating the injury. The bathroom – specifically, the bathtub – was a few steps closer and somehow seemed appropriate, judging by the patient’s nature.

           It also meant she wouldn’t wind up dealing with bloodstained linens.

           Making her way to the left of the entrance, she stepped up to the side of the tub, lowered one shoulder and let him gently roll in, his body hitting the bottom with a dull, wet thud. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that he did land on his back, saving her the trouble of needing to roll him over.

           Taking a seat on the toilet, she leaned in close to inspect the cut. The wound was a foot long but not terribly deep, and he was not bleeding as profusely as she had expected. By virtue of the lake water’s cleanliness and that she hadn’t dropped him on the trek up the hill; she found no dirt or debris in stuck in the cut upon rinsing out the blood with the showerhead.

           For being caused by the motor’s blade, she marveled at how clean and straight the wound was. He must have arched his back to swim into the lake’s depths when the motor had started, which would explain the placement of the injury, and been hit only by the first blade as it started to spin.

           Getting to her feet, she went to the foot of the tub and began rummaging through the linen closet for her first aid kit. Spotting the gauze, Morgan began to worry about the process. She remembered some research she had performed for one of her stories, on how to treat an infected wound. That involved packing in some gauze, but this didn’t appear to be quite the same scenario.

           Digging through the first aid kit, she found some instructions in the enclosed booklet and set to work, applying some antibiotic cream to the bandage, pressing it against the cut, and then taping it to the surrounding area such that the sides of the wound were pressed together. Taking a moment to consider his species, she fished out some waterproof tape from the storage room next to her cottage’s entrance and made sure the injury was completely covered.

           With her work done, she breathed a sigh of relief and took a moment to stare and appreciate the creature before her.

           His hair, a shade of teal, was long and straight, the ends coming to rest upon his shoulders. It wasn’t very glamorous or well maintained hair – tangled and with many split ends – but simply knowing that the color was natural made it special. Beyond what was on his head, he did not have any traces of hair.

           From a lifetime of swimming, his body was fit like an Olympic swimmer; no bulging muscles, but not a hint of fat to be seen. Finding no signs that he was conscious or ready to wake any time soon, she reached out and began gently prodding his arms, chest and stomach, getting a feel for how well-trained his body was.

           Receiving no reaction beyond a few twitches and the occasional moan, she moved her hand down to the end of his tail, exploring with childlike glee the texture of his aquatic flesh. Not only did it have the same appearance as a dolphin’s, the texture was identical as well, leaving her giggling in a way as she happily rubbed the skin that would have surely caused the merman to think her insane would he to awaken to hear such ill-contained laughter.

           Looking back towards the rest of his form, she considered examining him further – for research, of course – but shook the ideas from her head, deciding that such things would be rude if done without consent.

           She consciously ignored that what she had already done would be considered one such violation.

           By the grumbling of her stomach, she realized dinner was long overdue and left her patient for the kitchen; a room only a scant size larger than the washroom. Rummaging through the refrigerator, she found herself torn between leftover meatloaf and salmon.

            Smelling her hands, she decided she had enough of fish for the time being and put the meatloaf in the microwave. As it cooked, she pulled a carrot from the crisper and a couple slices of bread. As the bread started to cook in the toaster, she chewed on the carrot, waiting for her patchwork dinner. Once the microwave beeped, she popped out the partially toasted bread and headed into the combination dining room, living room, and place of work just adjacent to the kitchen.

            Placing the dish on the table, she started to break off a piece of her meal with her fork when she heard a noise to her left – from the washroom. It was the unusual sound of a fish flopping around. It only lasted a moment before becoming a stomping noise like someone placing their feet firmly on the ground. A number of gentler thuds followed, coming closer with each noise, and she soon found her merman rounding the corner from the washroom, moving along by pulling himself along the floor, relying on the slipperiness of his tail to help him along.

            At one point in his floundering crawl, their eyes met and he froze. The staring lasted for a few minutes, in which time Morgan noted that he possessed a second pair of eyelids. She was also fascinated by his blue topaz eyes, but couldn’t think of the proper way to describe their tincture at that moment.

            Finally, it was he who made the first move, continuing forward at a fast pace and lunging for her food, reaching far above his line of sight and quickly pulling his hand away after feeling the warmth of the meat.

            She stayed motionless in her seat as she watched him shake his hand and blow it on it to cool it down. Thinking about it, it made sense to her that he wouldn’t be familiar with cooked food, what with the difficulty of starting a fire underwater.

            After sufficient time for him to see her as harmless, he propped himself up with his tail, arched his back, and supported himself with his hands just high enough so that his he was like a dog, with his eyes peering from just over the top of the table and staring at the food like it was some prize. His body swayed slightly, leaving her with the impression of a snake awaiting the time to strike.

            “You can have some, if you want,” she said softly, hoping to speak to him without causing him fright.

            It failed; he suddenly jerked back and went stiff, as if preparing for a strong blow. He was clearly out of his element and rather shaken up about his situation.

            Letting out a sigh, she realized she’d need to communicate with him as though he were a child. Using her fork, she cut a piece of the meatloaf off, blew on it to cool it down, and ate it. She then set the fork down on the plate and slid it over to the edge of the table nearest to him.

            There she continued to sit in silence, waiting for him to loosen up. Eventually he found the nerve to approach the table once more and reached for the plate with one hand. At first, he reached for it as if it were guarded by some sort of mechanism, or was intended to lure him into a trap, then quickly snatched it away as if to ensure she wouldn’t change her mind. Setting it on the floor, he proceeded to eat it as she had presented, occasionally glancing up at her to ensure she wasn’t making a move.

            As he ate, she examined him, taking in his mannerisms, such as his understandably skittish behavior, and his muscles as he moved even the slightest amount. Looking at him from this side, she noticed that his dolphin tail didn’t go quite so far up as to cover his buttocks, a fact that put her on the verge of giggling, were it not for a voice in her head that reminded her that doing so would only frighten him all the more.

            Remembering her toast, she settled with nibbling on that rather than heading back to the kitchen. Before she had finished her first piece, he had cleared the plate and licked it clean. As she ate, he looked up at her expectantly.

            Swallowing what she had, in her mouth, she pointed at herself and spoke. “Morgan.” It was said more so in the hopes of having him adjust to the sound of her voice instead of an attempt to communicate, so his response came as quite the surprise.

            In response, he pointed to himself and replied, “Dace.” He then pointed to the toast remaining in her hand and said with a curious tone, “food?”

            Handing it to him, she nodded. “You can talk?”

            She assumed those words meant nothing to him by the way he tilted his head to the side, presumably in confusion. After a second, however, his eyes went wide and he began mussing his hair with both hands. Morgan wasn’t certain whether this sudden behavior meant he was familiar with the question and furiously thinking of his answer or simply had a case of some aquatic breed of fleas. When she spotted his lips moving without him speaking, she realized it was the former.

            “No?” she asked, hoping to help him along.

            In response he clapped his hands and pointed at her excitedly. “No!”

            She smiled at his child-like glee at finding the right answer, even if it wasn’t the desirable outcome. It was clear that he didn’t know the language, but had picked up some English from what she assumed was prior exposure to humans. It was unfortunate but expected that there was the language barrier, and she wished there was a way to overcome it. Spotting her computer sitting in the far corner against the windows showing off her balcony, she knew what to do; to the Internet.

             Getting out of her chair, she started to walk to her computer when she looked down to find Dace staring at her agape. When she took a step, he twisted his back and started to crawl alongside of her, staring at her legs and marveled at how she walked.

            Half-way across the room, her shin connected with his face as he suddenly decided to examine her movements from a different angle. As she moved her leg back, she felt her heel pressing against his hand, forcing a squeal of pain from the merman. Startled by the noise and thrown off balance as he tried to pull his crushed hand away, she fell fanny-first onto the very end of his tail, drawing out another squeal.

            As soon as she moved herself off his tail, he curled up into a ball, keeping his face and injured hand covered.

            “Okay,” Morgan sighed, “I think you should rest for today. We can get you learning English tomorrow.”

            As expected, he didn’t react to what must have just sounded like noise to him.

            “Just like a puppy,” she smiled, crouching and stroking his head in hopes of comforting him.

            It took a couple minutes, but he finally unrolled and stared at her. She made a motion for him to follow and she started towards the washroom, taking special care to watch her legs and his position.

            Instead of going through the door in front of her to the washroom, she opened the door to her right and showed him the guest room; a reasonably sized room with two beds for guests any visitors that might come. Something she felt Dace qualified as. Sitting down on the nearest bed, she motioned for him to come as well. As he made his way over, she pulled back the sheets for him.

           He crawled up the side of the bed and imitated the way she sat. Once he had satisfied himself with the imitation, he stared at the bed’s surface and started to press on the mattress with the palm of his hand. Morgan felt that she would be able to enjoy the sight of his wonderment for quite some time to come.

           Taking him gently by the shoulders, she eased him into a supine position, with his head resting on a pillow. Reaching for his tail, she placed it on the mattress and slid it under the covers. Before pulling the rest of the covers over his body, she decided to inspect the bandaged wound, making sure that all his crawling hadn’t agitated it. Though he hadn’t put up any fight against it, he looked around nervously, unclear on what was going on.

           She tried pantomiming the concept of sleep, to which he seemed to somewhat understand the concept. He closed his eyes for a few moments then reopened them. Smiling and nodding, he closed his eyes once more and stayed that way.

           Breathing a sigh of relief at how easy that had been, she got to her feet and flipped the light switch to the off position. As soon as the room went dark, she heard a slight squeal and a bit of thrashing, to which she quickly turned the lights back on to find Dace staring up at the ceiling with a mix of awe and horror.

           At this spectacle, Morgan broke down and laughed for a good long while. Wiping a tear for her eye from laughing too hard, she looked to Dace whose expression was clearly a pout.

           He set to work, readjusting the sheets to how they had been before his panic and closed his eyes, making a defiant face like that of a pouting child trying to prove to a parent they needn’t be treated like an infant. Turning off the lights once more, she heard a muffled squeal briefly and managed to stifle her chuckling until she closed the guest room door behind her, opened the double glass doors to her room just a few steps further, and closed them behind her.

           It had been a long day, and though she didn’t get to enjoy the sunset as planned, her find was undoubtedly worth missing any number of dusks. Crawling into bed, she couldn’t help but feel young again, trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow would be interesting.

 

            Morgan awoke to the sound of a loud thump, and wearily opened her eyes and stared at her bedside clock. It was five thirty; no shreds of light were even visible through the window at the head of her bed, not that it even faced the rising sun anyhow. It was too early for her to want to get up, but she was glad it had at least taken this long for him to fall out.

           Rolling out of bed, she pulled on a housecoat and slippers before heading to the guest room. Opening the door and turning on the lights, she found him lying on the floor in a tangle of blankets, his tail the only thing that had stayed in bed. His face was scrunched up from the light’s sudden assault on his eyes that had become adjusted to the dark.

           “You did pretty well for your first time in a bed,” she chuckled to herself, helping to free him from the mess.

           When he was finally untangled, he wrapped his arms around her ankles in what she could only interpret as a hug. Smiling, she gave him a pat on the head then waited for him to remove himself from her.

           Before too long, she noticed that the sheet under his body was starting to get darker, as though it was suddenly getting wet.

           “Oh God,” she exclaimed, realizing he wasn’t housebroken. “Stop! Stop that!” she cried hoping, if nothing else, that he would panic and tighten up enough to control his bladder. “Come on, follow me,” she ordered, taking him by the hand and half dragging him to the washroom.

           After realizing he couldn’t very well just sit on the toilet for what he was doing, she frantically tried to pantomime what she needed him to do. By the time he figured out needed to be done most of it had already made its way to the floor, but he proved intelligent enough to figure out how to prevent a far worse mess from his human derriere.

           As she went to fetch a mop, Morgan had a mix of sentiments. On the bright side, he was smart enough to only have needed to make the mistake once, but this was still a mess that would need cleaning up. Not to mention he would now need a rinse to take care of the smell. Despite the mess, deep down she smiled; amused from having learnt that he did have that part after all.

           It took some time to clean everything satisfactorily, yet the work did little to diminish her appetite and quickly set to work frying up a couple eggs and placed some bread in the toaster. As they cooked, she wondered if preparing them for Dace would be a good idea or not, as she didn’t know just what foods he could stomach. She decided she could get away with an extra large breakfast if worst comes to worst and cracked open a few more eggs into the pan.

           Dace, presumably from hearing the sizzling emanating from the stovetop, crawled over and tried to peer into the pan but failed to raise himself up high enough. As Morgan started to wonder just how high he could prop himself up were it not for the risk of making the wound worse, Dace reached into the pan and let out a squeal – a noise she felt he had been making quite frequently as of late.

           Had she not kept a hand on the pan’s handle, the force of him pulling away his hand would have surely brought the contents spilling down onto his head for only more injuries. While she made sure the meal wasn’t burning, he lively scurried from the kitchen, to eventually peer in only around the corner while sucking on his burnt fingers.

           “You just keep getting into trouble, don’t you?” she sighed, wondering if there was enough in her first aid kit to handle what seemed to be a slowly escalating series of accidents.

           Satisfied with the state of the eggs, she divided the food and brought the plates to the dining room table. Recalling how he was able to sit on the bed, she pulled out a chair for him and patted the seat, ushering him to join her.

           By imitating his host, the merman was able to be seated properly, at which time he sniffed the food and watched her eat the meal, taking a few moments to observer her methods before attempting it himself. When the first mouthful proved a little too hot for his mouth, he applied what he had learned the previous meal and blew on the eggs before putting them back in his mouth.

           “After you’re finished, we’re going to work on getting you talking,” she smiled, glancing over at her computer. She decided as she fell asleep the previous night that it should be simple enough to find some software for teaching children, and this one seemed sharp-witted enough to pick up on it very quickly. A day or two would be too much to hope for, but she expected that within a week she’d be able to stop gesturing.

           Her first assumption had proved accurate, and within the hour she had him sitting in front of her computer with one of the programs she had found loaded on the screen; a portion of which time was spent settling him down over the concept of the glowing box. Before putting on the first lesson, she showed him how to use the mouse – a surprisingly simple feat – and then pointed to each of the letters and numbers of the keyboard and said the symbol aloud. Much to her surprise, he was able to repeat more than half of them properly after being shown once.

           For the first hour of his lessons, she stayed in a chair next to his and had to guide him every step of the way. The following hour, he stumbled only every so often, and by the third she had moved to the couch and was writing down ideas for her current and future works. Dace still would call for her help every now and again, but the rate at which he was learning astounded her.

           His lessons continued with fervor, and by evening, he had moved from his seat only twice, both times to rush to the washroom. Even a rumbling stomach failed to remove his focus.

            “Dace, dinner!” she called, setting two plates on the dinning room table, both with fish, rice, and spinach.

            He turned his head and nodded. Whether he understood already or simply knew the significance of her placing food on the table, she could not say, but nonetheless he slid from his seat and scuttled across the floor to his spot at the table.

            After a moment of examining his portion of the fish, he realized what it was and greedily devoured it before moving on to the other parts of his meal. Morgan, however, mostly played with her food, only taking small portions now and then. She wanted to say something to test him on how far he had come, but wasn’t sure if doing so would be too early or how to go about doing so.

            Spotting him licking his plate where the fish had been, she had an idea. “Do you like fish?”

            His body tensed up and she could tell. He put his tongue back in his mouth and raised his head, a cheerful smile spread across his lips. “Yes, I do.”

            While the pronunciation needed a little work and it was apparent from both the rhythm and tone of his voice he hadn’t quite adjusted to speaking, she was astounded that he had come so far in one short day. Deciding to reward him, she moved all the fish she had left onto his plate which elicited great joy.

           The moment his plate was cleared, he moved back to the floor and started on his way back to his lessons.

           “Stop,” she commanded then followed up with “come with me,” after he turned his head.

           Morgan guided him to the washroom and had him crawl into the tub.

           Upon fetching some water she had warmed on the stove, she gave him a warning: “this will probably hurt.”

           After pulling off the waterproof tape, which drew an expression of discomfort from her patient, she began using the warm water sparingly to ease the removal of the remaining dressings. Examining the wound, she found no signs of infection which allowed her to breathe a great sigh of relief.

           Had there been an infection, she would have had no choice to be bring him to a doctor and she did not need that kind of an upset, especially so soon after finding him.

           “Are you…okay?” Dace asked, apparently confused by something.

           Snapping back to reality, she wiped some drool from her chin and nodded. She went right back to work, cleaning the cut of whatever fibers from the bandages had gone in and then replacing the bloodstained dressings with clean ones.

           “All done,” she smiled. “I’ll do this every day until the bandages aren’t needed.”

           Some of the words were beyond his comprehension, but ‘all done’ and ‘this every day’ got through to him and he responded with a simple “Yes”.

           “Would you like to get back to studying?” she asked, knowing the answer by the way his face brightened, even before he let out a cheerful response.

           As he went about his studying, a part of her was disappointed by his ability to learn independently. At least for a little while she wouldn’t have minded playing the teacher’s role and becoming more familiar with him. After allowing that scenario to play through her head a few times, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself. It was then that she realized had she been a teacher with a student like him, she’d certainly have been fired.

           Why her students would be mermen, she’d never know.

           A thought then occurred to her. Though she felt she was asking this question too soon for him to handle, she couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Dace,” she called, drawing his attention, “are there more of you?”

           He nodded. “Two.”

           “Really?” she exclaimed, thrilled at the prospect of others. “Where are they?”

           “I don’t know,’ he answered. Pausing for a moment, he waited for more questions but, when none came, he resumed his lessons.

           From a day sitting on the couch working on notes, reading, and observing the stationary student – despite it being a merman, this did not make it exciting – and then stared at her television set placed directly across from her couch. She didn’t want to watch anything while he studied, wanting him to learn as quickly as he could without distraction, but she needed to consider her own amusement.

           “Do you want to take a break?” she asked, stretching her back.

           Once more Dace turned his head. “No…why?”

           “We could do something fun.”

           “This is fun,” he replied, confused by her suggestion. His tone and pacing was still awkward at best.

           “We could watch a movie,” she suggested, hoping to pique his curiosity.

           It succeeded; hearing a word he wasn’t familiar with caused Dace to perk up and he slid from his seat, working his way across the floor to the couch. Not grasping the concept of personal space, he placed his face merely inches from hers and repeated the word in an inquiring tone. “Movie?”

           Feeling his warm breath assault her face, she did her best to avoid retching. “Yeah, but before that, come with me; I need to teach you something.”

           Bringing him to the all too familiar bathroom, she found an extra toothbrush and toothpaste. Showing him the steps, she instructed him on what he needed to do and how often to do it.

           “While you do that, I’ll get the movie ready,” she told him, heading to the television, opening the cabinet upon which it rested and flipped through her collection. Being so far away from any good rental stores, she had a habit of buying any movies that grabbed her attention.

           The first she settled upon was a horror movie she had enjoyed and considered the possibility of him being frightened and clinging to her. The thought of him being frightened and developing a distaste of movies led her to reconsider and continue searching. A movie featuring mermaids and mermen was quickly ignored; not wanting to put on a film that could leave him with the impression people want to dissect him.

           Finally, she settled on a fantasy movie that was enjoyable but not one of the best in her collection. Morgan chose it as to not make the rest of her collection look terrible and its simple dialogue was such that Dace would have little trouble understanding.

            Once he was back and seated on the couch, she pressed play and sat down next to him. Having already been exposed to the computer, he was not floored by what he saw, knowing that it wasn’t a matter of people being trapped inside of a magic box, but all the same he watched the movie intently as though it could not get any better.

            A half hour into the movie, Morgan found almost as much enjoyment watching her guest as the film itself. Every scene that relied on even the slightest of special effects left him slack jawed. The occasional big display had him grabbing Morgan’s shoulder as if to tell her he needed her to tell him he had really witnessed such a spectacle, and even the casual banter and dialogue of the film had him completely engaged.

            As the movie progressed, she recalled that the romance scene of film was drawing near and began to fantasize. This was not an explicit movie in the slightest, but she expected a sort of ‘monkey see, monkey do’ reaction from him. Taking care to ensure that she hadn’t drooled upon herself again, she watched him intently out of the corner of her eye as the scene played out.

            To her disappointment, he never turned to her as if to contemplate trying what he had witnessed; rather, he only stared at the screen with unwavering fascination. Closely inspecting him from where she sat, she was certain he was interested for reasons beyond those of the rest of the movie.

            Once the scene was finished, Dace looked to her, followed her gaze, looked back up at her, and spoke. “What?”

            Having been unaware that her observation had become so overt, she silently thanked the lack of certain human cultural traits and dismissed the whole event as “wanting to observe his reactions to the movie”.

            With refreshing naivety, he accepted her explanation and set his gaze back to the movie. Once the ending credits began to roll and it was explained to him that that meant the end of the movie, he squealed with delight and began excitedly chanted the word “more”. This time his enthusiasm was far more tolerable now that his breath was fresh.

            The sun had set so there was no sunset to enjoy and from a day of relaxing she wasn’t at all tired thus there was no reason to refuse, but still she denied him his fun. When he pulled a pleading puppy dog-like face, she almost caved, but decided that she needed to stick with her decision. She only owned so many movies, and driving to rent or buy more would be a hassle. What DVDs she owned would have to be rationed, and she didn’t want him to set aside his studies.

            “We can watch another one tomorrow,” she said sternly, “and only if you keep studying.”

            “Why would I not?” he asked, lost by her logic.

            “Never mind, I’m going to read in bed. Turn off the computer screen before you go to sleep.”

            Furrowing his brow, he nodded. A couple words were beyond his knowledge, she had spoken too fast, or it was just more than he was able to take in all at once just yet, but she knew that even if he wasn’t able to do what she asked just yet, it wasn’t anything important.

 

            Able to sleep in to her liking – no sudden thud to wake her – Morgan turned to her clock and smiled. For her, ten was a more appropriate time to wake up.

            Stretching her legs as she moved them off the mattress, she let her feet slide into a pair of slippers before getting out of bed. Seeing no reason to get dressed up for her guest – he wasn’t dressed to start with – instead of the jeans and blouse she wore the past two days, she settled with the tank top and shorts she had slept in.

            Because there hadn’t been any noise indicating that he was awake, she decided to rouse him from his sleep herself, but found his bed empty. Of the thoughts that crossed her mind at that moment, she prayed it was not the worst of the options. She knew he was able to open and close doors on his own, and though she had never shown him the locks, she also knew he was a clever one and wouldn’t be hindered by such for very long.

            Hurrying from the guest bedroom and leaning around the corner to face the entrance, relieved to find the door closed and – after taking a few steps towards it – could tell that the deadbolt was still secure. Turning around, she realized that the next worse option had been true, and he was passed out on the floor beside the computer chair; presumably from where he passed out from exhaustion.

            “Not very good at pacing yourself, are you?” she quietly asked his sleeping form.

            Taking the time to just crouch over him and stare, she realized that there was still a lingering unpleasant odor coming from him. After a few moments to place the smell, she understood that just because he lived in water, it didn’t make him clean.

            Unsure of how long he had been asleep, but wanting to have him smelling fresh as soon as possible, she gently poked him in the shoulder in hopes of rousing him. After a second, more forceful attempt also failed, she started to wonder just how much it would take to wake him.

            Lying on his left side with his back was exposed to her, his toned buttocks in clear view and she couldn’t resist making that her first target. Patting it lightly at first, she decided to give it a squeeze after he didn’t react. That elicited a response, but only in the form of mild sleep mutterings. Next she ran a finger along the small of his back which drew from him some giggling, but nothing more.

            Lastly – unwilling to do anymore without him first being cleaned, she reached over and pinched his nose shut. Within a second he was coughing, sputtering, and quite awake, confused as to what happened. He also found it necessary to rub his posterior for reasons that appeared to elude him.

            “What time were you studying until?” she asked, wincing immediately realizing that she never taught him such things. After seeing him furrow his brow over the question, she felt bad over asking. “Never mind, I—”

            “Four-thirty-eight,” he answered. “But I did not look right before I fell asleep.”

            She couldn’t believe it. In almost twenty-four hours he had learned how to speak at this level and how to tell time on his own. “What else have you learned?”

            He hummed and hawed over this question, clearly uncertain how to go about answering this question. Eventually he settled for a simple example.

           “Computer, clock, floor…” be began, pointing to each of the objects before identifying them. “Shirt – white, pants – green, woman…”

           She let him continue on for a while longer before interrupting. “There’s something else I need to teach you. Do you know what a bath is?”

           He hesitantly nodded.

           “Okay, well, it’s time you had one. Do you know where the bathtub is?”

           Nodding, he crawled along the floor until he reached the washroom.

           “Get in.”

           He did so and waited. As she turned the taps and caused water to begin to pour into the tub, Dace stared with amazement. While he already knew how to speak, he didn’t know much else, such as how things worked.

           “Let me know if the water is too hot or cold for you.”

           He nodded in understanding though visibly perplexed as to how she could control the temperature of the water. “How does the bathtub make water?”

           The question hit a sensitive spot and Morgan burst out laughing. When she finally calmed down, she wiped the tears from her eyes and answered. “It doesn’t make water, it comes in through the pipes.” When he admitted to not understanding her explanation, she ended the discussion with: “It’s complicated.”

           Before the water came high enough to reach his wound, she shut off the taps and ensured that the waterproofing was properly attached. After deciding to reinforce it a little more, she resumed filling the tub until the surface was two inches from the top.

           “Now what?” he asked, his tone unclear as to whether he was impatient or just curious.

           Picking up a bar of soap, she dipped it in the water then handed it to him. He looked at it as though it were some curiosity and placed a part of it in his mouth before she could tell him otherwise. Gagging, he began to rinse his mouth in the bathwater and dropped the foul-tasting object.

            “That’s soap,” Morgan explained, reaching into the water to fish out the bar. “It’s for cleaning. Here, I’ll do it for you.”

            Retrieving the soap, she began rubbing it on his shoulder and bicep, surprised at how little suds it created. Splashing some water where she had cleaned, the truth came out. Though still tan underneath, a thick enough layer of grime had accumulated on his skin to allow for a distinct contrast between where had and hadn’t been cleaned.

            “Now clean yourself like that on the rest of your body.”

            Hesitantly taking back the foul tasting bar, he set to work scrubbing the rest of his body, gradually washing off the rest of the filth. With only both his arms cleaned, already the water had taken an unpleasant grey color. Once his chest and stomach was cleaned, she took the soap from him and scrubbed his back and bringing the water to a far darker shade.

            With his tail still left to be cleaned, she emptied the bathwater then refilled the tub.

            “Now do your tail,” she ordered. “While you do that, I’ll clean your hair.”

            Switching on the showerhead, she gave his hair a rinse before pouring on some shampoo. Unsurprisingly, it failed to work up lather from all the grime that had collected over his lifetime. As she scrubbed his scalp, the product dribbled down his forehead and into his eyes. Dace let out a shriek and quickly submerged himself, rubbing his eyes underwater, kicking up a wave large enough to splash Morgan.

           Once he was able to cleanse his eyes, it took two more attempts before the shampoo created foam, letting her know it was clean. Applying some conditioner, she waited for him to finish work on his tail before rinsing out his hair one last time.

           Before too long, the work was finished and Morgan drained the tub. Using the showerhead, she rinsed him off then went to the sink’s cabinet and retrieved a comb and a pair of scissors. He seemed wary of the dangerous utensils, but seemed to know what they were.

           “I’m going to fix your hair, now. Let me know if it hurts.”

           As she ran the comb through his hair, it did not take very long before she came across the first tangle. Using her fingers she was able to somewhat resolve the mess then tried to force it apart with the comb. Despite holding the roots of his hair with one hand to avoid pulling directly on his scalp, he still let out a few squeals of pain from her efforts. For some she was able to straighten out the hair, in others she had no choice but to make a few small cuts to untangle the mess.

           Once the hair was proper, she used the scissors to get rid of the split ends, leaving his hair a touch shorter, but looking far better than it had.

           “There, all done. How do you feel?”

           He ran his fingers along his body then rubbed his head. “Better. I am not itchy now.” Dace then began to sniff himself, surprised but not disappointed by the scent. “I smell like you.”

           “That’s good, right?” she asked, wishing he would get proper pace and inflection down when speaking so that she could better grasp his intent.

           “I like it,” he smiled.

           “Good, then lets get you fed,” Morgan smiled, helping him out of the tub and quickly drying him off with a towel.

           After a warm meal, he went right back to his lessons, leaving Morgan to work on her stories by hand. By the day’s end, she decided it may be necessary to pick up another computer – an old one, maybe a laptop – so that she could get back to working efficiently.

           By the time they had dinner the sun had set and the stars and the moon were hidden behind thick clouds. Feeling the mood of the evening, Morgan decided it was time to introduce Dace to horror.

           She ushered him to the couch where he bounced excitedly in his seat. After selecting the DVD but before pressing play, she made certain to shut off all the lights in the cottage and turn off the computer to ensure the least amount of light.

            During the early scenes of the movie, he was almost disappointed by the lack of phenomenal scenes that last night’s film offered. When it came time for the first murder to occur, Dace tensed up and the color drained from his face as he saw the gruesome scene.

            Wanting to add to the atmosphere, she carefully moved her hand behind him and waited for the right moment to strike. She had seen this movie many time and got a good laugh out of it; the movie was intended as a comedy, but Dace had no way of knowing that. The murder of the protagonist’s friends left Dace shivering and when the possessed hand was finally severed, he relaxed a bit.

            From how long the movie had been playing, anyone would know that could not possibly be the conclusion, but that was common knowledge to which Dace was not yet privy.

            Once the hero returned to find the severed hand missing, Dace tensed up once more and Morgan struck. She promptly clamped her hand down on his far shoulder, drawing from her victim a loud shriek. Pressing pause on the remote, she waited for him to calm down, assuring her that the hand was her own. After a passing thought, she inspected his lap and sniffed the air, suddenly relieved that he hadn’t soiled himself out of fear. It took the promise of never doing that again and several minutes of comforting before he was steady enough to agree to continue watching the film.

           Eventually it reached the obligatory moment to parody – the prom night scene. Specifically, it was the scene of the couple making out on the car only to be brutally murdered by the demonic hand. She expected that he would have had the same reaction to the scene – which was more revealing than that of the previous film – if not for how terrified he was.

           It wasn’t until the hand was finally dead and the credits began to roll that Dace relaxed, if only a little.

           “So what do you think of horror movies?” Morgan asked with a smile. “Really got your heart racing, I’ll bet.”

           Utterly speechless, he could only stare at her, shaking more than a little. Some color seemed to have had returned, but that my have just been a trick of the dark.

           “It’s late and you didn’t get much sleep last night. Off to bed with you,” she decided, shooing him from the couch.

           As he scurried across the floor, she was surprised to see him pull himself into the guest room. After being so frightened, she expected that he would be unwilling to sleep alone. It wasn’t until after she settled into her own bed that she heard him pulling himself across the floor towards her bed.

           “Can’t sleep?”

           “I’m scared,” he replied from out of sight, being too low to the ground to be visible over the edge of the mattress.

           “Come on up, you can stay here for the night. You’re just like a child,” she teased, keeping silent the fact that this was what she had been hoping for.

           Pulling back the covers for him, she watched as he pulled himself up and tucked himself in. With everything below his armpits covered, rather than housing a creature out of fantasy, it was as though she had her very own boy toy.

            “Feeling better?” she asked in hopes of being comforting, but received no reply.

            He was lying on his left side, staring at her intently, but not speaking. With the darkness of the room, she could only tell that he was facing her and that his eyes were open, but not the expression with which he stared.

            “What?”

            “You are a woman, right?” he asked, almost drawing a laugh from her. “So you are like the one from the movie?”

            The movie had several female characters, so his question was quite ambiguous. “Which one?”

            “The one in the car.”

            He was staring at her breasts. The room hadn’t become any brighter and she could see no more of his face than she could before, but that one reference told her everything.

            “Yes, I have boobs,” she replied with a sigh. He was growing up so fast.

            “Can I see?” he asked, his voice steeped with curiosity.

            Before even giving it a thought, she was on the verge of refusing when her thought process kicked in. He was asking out of curiosity and not out of perversion; he was only vaguely aware of the concept of gender until recently and she hadn’t shown him those kinds of movies yet.

           Plus she had felt him up in his sleep.

           Nodding, she grabbed the bottom of her top and pulled it up until her chest was exposed. Even in the dark and to him, she felt embarrassed by this display and it was only by telling herself that this was all part of his training that allowed her to continue as she was.

           He leaned in closer to improve his vision and she could tell that he stared with the same fascination as the scene from the movie; only now he was openly attempting to improve his view.

           She felt as though if he continued to move, he would soon have his head firmly between them.

           “Can I—”

           “Only for a bit,” she answered before he could finish asking; already knowing what it was he wanted.

            Surprised by her quick answer but not deterred, he reached with one finger and poked her bosom. After a few more careful prods, he switched to using his full hand. The second he gave her breast a honk, however, she let out a yelp and pulled down her top.

           “Okay, that’s enough for now,” she declared, silently wishing she had stopped him a few seconds earlier.

            Rolling over to turn her back to him, she could feel him shivering through the shaking of the mattress. It couldn’t be that he was cold; the room was warm, as were the covers. That meant that he was shaking because of the movie. She found it cute that someone as big as him was frightened because of a comical horror flick, but was annoyed by the fact that this would disrupt her sleep.

            Eventually she was able to simply ignore the movement, and a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps his shaking was only so bad because what he had just done was the same as the couple had been doing right before their deaths. Before she could think further on the matter, sleep embraced her and it would be a number of hours before any more thoughts were to cross her mind.

2: Chapter 2 - Head Trauma

Awakening to the sound of chirping birds, Morgan rolled over and opened her eyes. From a long’s night’s rest, she had forgotten her visitor had shared her bed and the surprise nearly sent her sprawling from the mattress. After her mind finished waking up, she stared at his sleeping form for a moment, contemplating waking him up, but decided upon leaving him to his sleep.

Softly stepping out of bed, she made her way from the room and to her computer without making enough noise to so much as cause him to stir. By how he had been acting the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had been up until late. Sitting down at her keyboard, she finally enjoyed the chance to do some more writing.

It was impossible, on every window of his home he had covered in duct tape, still he heard the scrapping. Nine days, it had been nine days since he last slept and his mental health was only getting worse.

At least, he thought, he was still collected enough to know he was going mad. With that thought in mind, he had left a number of sticky notes around the house for himself, each with the same – word for word – simple message for himself: ‘If you think you are fine, you’ve gone crazy’.

All of a sudden, he heard a different scrapping. This time, he could tell from where it was coming. Scurrying out of his chair, he ran for the stairs and made his way up to the second floor and into his rumpus room. Barging into the room, he tripped over his disassembled TV that rested on the carpet, and tumbled to the floor.

Picking himself back up, he began frantically looking about for the source of the noise. Once again, it had become the stalking noise that followed him yet came from no where. Still, he had heard it come from this room. He knew it; which meant that, somewhere, there was proof of the scrapping.

The sign was that of fingernails on the tape he had used on the window.

He ran his fingers along the tape and listened carefully. No, this was not the sound. He must have done that without noticing when he had put it up.

Part of the carpet was torn up.

He began to scratch away at the carpet, hoping to match what he had heard. Still wrong. It was an old carpet after all.

Finally, he slumped into his recliner which faced where his TV had been and sighed. So close, yet nothing. With a little thought into what just happened, he thought himself lucky. Had whoever – or whatever – still been in the room when he had arrived, he could have gotten himself killed. Sleep deprived, gaunt, and not one with much fight in him even when healthy, he would have been easy pickings.

That’s it, he decided, I need to keep something with me for next time; a bat, a golf club, a knife…something. He started to laugh at himself over the paranoid notion. He was just tired and on edge. Looking at the right arm of his chair, he found one of his notes and found peace.

Reading the note aloud, he reminded himself of his situation and decided to head back downstairs to his computer.

‘You’re crazy if you think you’re healthy’.

            Leaning back in her chair, she looked out the window down to the lake and remembered how long it had been since she last enjoyed the waters.

            Silently leaving her home, she made her way down the hill to the lake and pushed her boat into the water. After climbing in, she reached for the engine’s pull-cord but stayed her hand. Remembering what happened the last time she did that, she decided to paddle her boat. Dace had mentioned there being two more, and even though she liked the idea of having more of him around the house, she didn’t want to have to deal with that many wounded.

            Morgan grabbed the paddles she kept in the boat and started rowing to the center of the lake. Unlike the evening she found Dace, with the golden clouds and sky brilliantly colored by the setting sun, this time the sky was mostly grey with thick clouds overhead suggesting an impending storm…or at least a downpour.

            Still, it wasn’t raining yet, so she decided to use the silence to enjoy the fresh air and clear her head. Dace was fun to be around, but would he be staying or returning to the water after he was all healed? If he did stay, what then? He was straight out of a fantasy, possessed youthful energy and almost child-like innocence, which made her love him, but he was still part fish.

            Mammal – she corrected herself – dolphins are mammals. Still, this rationalization served little purpose other than to distract herself from the larger issue.

            Would pursuing a relationship qualify as some sort of crime against nature? Thoughts like this almost made her wish she was still with her ex or had found a mermaid instead.

            Becoming lost in her thoughts, it took the first drops of rain to snap her back to reality. Sitting up, she took the paddles, dipped them into the water, and gave a strong row, being surprised at how one oar gave more resistance than the other.

            Shortly after, a body floated to the surface – a naked man, whose skin looked strange below the waist.

            “Oh, you have got to be kidding,” she exclaimed with a sigh. Finding one was a great achievement, but this was just odd.

Pulling him out of the water and into boat, she could tell by the red mark on the side of his head that she had given him a good blow with the oar. With her luck finding them, she was undecided as to whether this was a sign to stay away from the water or to visit it more often.

Once more she considered using the engine to get to shore faster and ultimately decided against it. His injury was not serious and she didn’t want the risk of catching another one in her motor. Despite the rain, it was still a calm day and rowing back to shore was much less difficult than it could have been.

Making the trek from the lakeside up to her cottage, once she was in through the door, Dace turned his head from the computer and shouted.

“Kiyi!”

“What? Him?” she asked still moving towards the bathroom.

“Yes, he is my brother. What happened?”

“I accidentally hit him in the head with an oar.” Much to her surprise, Dace startled laughing at her explanation. “What’s so funny?”

“He got caught,” he smiled. “If you were in your boat, he was probably going to flip you.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, she brought Kiyi to the washroom and dumped him in the tub. Casually turning around she brushed a few strands of her light brown hair out of her eyes and smiled at the original guest. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? How about I show you how to cook?”

 Dace happily accepted the offer and, after pushing a dining room chair across the floor to the kitchen, propped himself up to watch the preparation. For the first lesson, the meal was a simple one – toast, bacon, and eggs. Morgan made her own serving first to show him how it was done then monitored the merman as he tried to do the same.

She was astonished at the number of things that went wrong.

On two occasions he placed a finger on the stove’s element, the sizzling bacon grease sprayed his chest, he tried to fish the toast out of the toaster with his fingers, and when it came time to remove the eggs from the pan, the yolk ruptured and oozed over the back of his hand.

Even though she watched it happen, Morgan couldn’t understand how the yolk burned him where it did. He also proved highly unaware of how long things should be left to cook, and if it weren’t for her supervision, she was sure he would have burned everything beyond recognition.

“I guess you need practice, huh?”

He nodded, with tears clouding his blue eyes, before slipping to the floor, wincing with every ‘step’, his hands already blistering from the burns.

“What can you tell me about Kiyi?” she asked carrying their meals over to the talbe and sitting down.

“He’s my brother, he likes…uh…pranking people, and is good at catching fish.”

“Brother? Older or younger? By how many years?”

“Younger; one year,” he explained, eyeing his food with suspicion. The only meal he could recall that harmed him even half as much as this had been a large fish with a big mouth.

“It’s dead, you can eat it,” she smirked, noticing his apprehension. “You said there are three of you. Is the other one part of your family, too?”

“Yes, younger brother by two years.”

“What’s he like?

“He likes to meet people but he always swims funny after he talks to them.”

As she ate, Morgan watched him clumsily try to use his fork. Using tools was not a problem for him, but with his hands the way they were, he was trying to hold it in such a way that it didn’t press against any of his blisters. After he finally gave up and just started using his hands, though still cautious. With all the problems he was having eating, she knew he would have difficulty using the computer’s mouse and keyboard.

“How about you take a break from learning today?”

“What? Why?” he shouted with a sad look on his face, sending bits of food from his mouth to the table.

Morgan responded by pointing to his hands. As his gaze followed her finger to its target, his expression showed that he understood. “Cheer up, we’ll watch movies.”

His face brightened instantaneously. “Really? More than just one?”

“Sure, I’ll even let you pick which one you want to see first,” she smiled, drawing a cheer from him.

After swallowing the remains of his meal, he scurried across the floor to the television’s cabinet, simply too excited to focus on the pain. Finding the collection, he looked at each case’s cover before coming to his decision. Much to her surprise, he selected a mermaid movie.

As the movie was playing, Morgan continuously expected Dace to either laugh or get upset over how the movie presented mermaids. Instead, he remained silent throughout the film as he would normally and showed signs of excitement as he watched.

When the ending credits started rolling, his first statement caught her by surprise: “It would be neat if I could do things like that, yes?”

She was amazed that he took the movie at face value as a work of fiction and reacted in much the same way she watched fantasy and wished she could cast spells or the like. This from a man who was shivering just the night before out of fear that a severed hand would come to kill him.

“While you pick out the next one, I’m going to check up on your brother,” she declared, getting up from her seat, not bothering to answer his question.

The closer she came to the washroom, the more clear the sound of bottles colliding. Pulling open the door, she found Kiyi staring up at her through his seaweed-colored hair – far more unkempt then Dace’s was at first. In each hand, he held a bottle of shampoo or perfume, with many more such products strewn about the floor.

“Busy little rat, aren’t you?” she asked him, knowing he wouldn’t reply. Instead – in response to seeing her – he jerked suddenly and whacked his head on the underside of the sink’s cabinet.

As he went about squealing from the pain of a second injury to his head, Morgan called for Dace, letting him know his brother was awake. Dace crawled into the room, crawling between Morgan’s feet, leading Kiyi to stop squealing long enough to make some noises she believed to be their way of communicating.

After a minute of being left out of the conversation, Morgan excused herself from the room and returned to the couch. On the coffee table in front of her seat, she found the case for the movie he had selected, and chuckled at how it was the only other mermaid series in her possession. She really believed that these movies were to him what superhero comics were to children; something fantastic that couldn’t be done in real life.

She heard some shuffling noises from the washroom and guest bedroom and could tell that her boys were moving about. Before too long, they made their way into the living room, Dace at the lead.

“Is Kiyi staying?” he asked.

“Does he want to?”

Dace turned to his brother and made some of the clicking, whistling, and blowing noises that seemed to consist of their language. After receiving a reply, Dace turned back to her and nodded.

“Sure; there’s plenty of space here. If he’s tired, he can use the spare bed in your room. If he isn’t, you can start him on the beginner’s lessons on the computer.”

There was more discussion between the two which ended with Dace teaching Kiyi how to sit on a chair and then instructed him in how to use the computer. It was during these teachings that Morgan felt truly blessed. Here she was, a lover of things ‘fantasy’, living with two mermen – attractive young men with the bodies of Olympic swimmers – without a concept of clothing and giving her a full view of their toned bodies and cute buttocks.

She made sure that she wasn’t drooling this time.

Once Dace was finished setting him up on the computer, he rushed back to the couch and excitedly awaited the next movie. The movie needed to be paused every so often for Dace to have Kiyi focus on his studies and not the TV, but other than that the day was uneventful; one movie after another until it came time for dinner.

Deciding to treat him to a familiar dish, she retrieved a salmon from her freezer and cooked it along with some carrots and rice. By the time Dace had instructed Kiyi to sit at the dining table, the meal was prepared and the new guest wasted no time.

Reaching for the fish, he shoved it in his mouth and quickly spat it back on the plate; some of which missed. An act to which Morgan and Dace both laughed.

“Just like when you touched the meatloaf,” she snickered, receiving a shy nod from Dace.

“I will teach him,” he sighed, switching over to his language and began instructing Kiyi in how to properly eat human food.

She could swear that he was giving her a dirty look, as though he was none too pleased that he needed to be taught how to eat. From how to use forks, knives, and spoons, to blowing on the food if it was too hot, Kiyi was shown everything by his older brother.

Once all the lessons were over, the younger brother – now holding his fork – proceeded to use his free hand to stuff the now cool fish into his mouth, only using the fork to feed himself the other, unusual food.

When the meal was done, Dace put his brother back in front of the computer as she cleaned the dishes before they both met in the bathroom for the daily checkup. This time, she decided to pour a little peroxide on the scab. She was pleased by the lack of fizzing; a sign that suggested it was not infected, and took to reapplying the bandages.

“You’re really lucky, you know that?” she asked, receiving a puzzled look. “Okay, getting hurt wasn’t, but you didn’t need a doctor and you’re not being chased down by some kooky government scientists like in the movies.”

“I suppose,” he yawned, crawling out of the tub and shuffling along the floor, once again aware of his injured hands. “I am going to go to bed now.”

“You better take your brother too, and don’t forget to tell him about the toilet.”

Letting out a loud squeal, it wasn’t long before his brother was around the corner and following him into the washroom.

Casually looking at her watch, she decided it was late enough for her as well and headed to bed, falling into a peaceful slumber not long after wrapping herself in the warmth of her sheets.

Her rest proved short-lived, for she soon felt a gentle poking to her stomach that roused her from her dreams. Looking to the side of her bed she found her two men looking up at her expectedly. Looking to the clock on her nightstand, she found that not an hour had passed since crawling into bed.

“Problem?” she mumbled unhappily; her dream had been a pleasant one.

“Kiyi can not sleep,” Dace explained. “He can not get comfortable in the bed.”

“What does he want, then?”

“He misses the water.”

Her first instinct was to let him outside and return him to the lake, but she immediately denied that option; she wasn’t holding them prisoner, but if there was an alternative available she’d use it to keep them in her home, and she knew just what to do.

Forcing herself out of bed, she led them to the bathroom and started filling the tub. “Have him tell me if he wants it hotter or colder.”

Giving the instructions to his brother, Kiyi placed a hand in the water. Dace translated the messaged until the tub was sufficiently full. The younger brother then slid into the water, rested his head on the edge as to keep his head dry, and closed his eyes.

“You can’t breath underwater?” she whispered to Dace.

He shook his head. “Outside, we either find a beaver dam or rest on the side of a lake.”

Readily accepting his answer, Morgan made her way back to her room to once again find the sweet embrace of warm covers and serene sleep.

3: Chapter 3 - Meeting the Ex

           “My fridge is getting near empty, so I’ll be going shopping today,” she told Dace over breakfast.

            “How do you do that?” he asked, his face brightening at the concept of a new discovery.

            She hummed and hawed over the answer, trying to decide the best way of telling him. “You…aren’t coming. You’ll be staying here with your brother to look after things.”

           His face drooped.

           “I made sandwiches for you should you get hungry before I get back; they’re in the fridge on the bottom shelf. Just have water if you’re thirsty, and not that it should happen, don’t let anyone in, okay?”

           Dace nodded.

           “I should be home to cook dinner, but don’t be worried if I’m a little late, okay? Just behave yourself and tell this to Kiyi too, okay?”

           After breakfast and the ensuing cleanup, she dressed herself well enough to go out in public and found her car keys. As Morgan reached for the front door, she hesitated. Turning her head, she looked to the bathroom door and headed back.

           The floor was still wet from Kiyi getting out of ‘bed’, but she decided to worry about that later. To her chagrin, the dirty bath water would need to sit there until evening as well – in case Kiyi wanted to rest. Fishing Dace’s old bandages from the garbage, she stuffed them in her purse before saying her farewells and locking the door behind her.

           After getting into her car, starting the engine, and driving onto the road, thoughts of morality versus curiosity clashed in her mind. Not like that of a fierce debate; far from it. More like a pair of squirrels chattering at one another – annoying but not something that couldn’t be blocked out with a little effort.

           On the side of morality, she’d have a clean conscience, waste less fuel, and be home sooner, thus allowing her to spend more time with her boys. Of course, that also meant she’d be left to wonder.

           On the side of curiosity, she wasn’t harming anyone, Ryan was a reliable guy, and she’d need to find out the answer eventually. The big question was if going through with it would upset Dace and Kiyi at all.

           As she drove through the small town, exiting the other side, she knew she had made her decision and decided it best not to worry and just deal with things as they come along.

 

           He cautiously crawled through the cabin in its entirety. This was the first time he was alone here. Okay, so she had stepped out for a while that time she wound up bringing Kiyi home, but that wasn’t for very long and not very far away, either. And Kiyi; it was true that he was here as well, but he wasn’t exactly well versed in living on dry land either. Dace knew that this was a time to prove he could take care of the household and be responsible. By making sure everything was kept orderly, he would show that he, too, could go shopping and—

           With a reassuring whirl, the DVD player accepted the movie and the screen came to life with the color of the disc’s menu. It took several failed tries, but eventually he pressed the right buttons to start the film and watched excitedly as the movie started playing.

           As the movie started, Kiyi took advantage of his brother’s distracted state and squirmed from his seat in front of the computer. It was not that he didn’t want to learn the language, but more interesting things were to be done when the human was out.

           Crawling past the bright glowing box at which his brother obsessively stared, he gave into temptation briefly and followed Dace’s gaze and went wide-eyed at what he saw – though it was not an exciting scene of the movie by any measure. Still, he had larger schemes in mind and could not be distracted. So off he went, from room to room, finding anything and everything he could open – dressers, boxes, shelves, cabinets, and closets.

           There was much for him to see, and he wanted to see all that he could; the more things he knew about within the house, the more ways he could find to have fun at its residents’ expense.

 

           Morgan waited in the lobby for Ryan to arrive. It had been many months since she last saw him, though she had called him every now again for the sake of accuracy in her stories. It was one of the advantages of being on good terms with an ex who was the head of his own lab. Glancing at her purse, she smiled knowing of another benefit.

           Moments after the sound of a high-pitched beep, the lobby door leading further into the building was pushed open and out stepped her last boyfriend.

           “Sorry for the wait, security and all,” he explained with a hint of a smile. More so than because of seeing her again, his smile was from the thought of how secure his laboratory was.

           Ryan was a secretive man. Not in the ‘go out at night without saying a word’ sort of way, but in that gossips would detest him by how he wouldn’t speak of anything he believed to be of no business of those to whom he spoke. This is why she felt it alright to see him on this matter.

           After a brief handshake – always the professional – he had her fill out a form in order to be given allowed entry.

           He was a good guy – kind, polite, considerate – but not boyfriend material; at least, not for her. It certainly wasn’t physical; he was as fit as he was secretive. Whenever he wasn’t working, he was likely to be exercising. Which was the problem – he was a workaholic.

           “My office is this way,” he reminded her; she had come here in the past, but the visits were few and far between. “I take it what you need is more…complicated than something you can ask in person?”

           “I could just be here to talk,” she suggested, the tone of her voice a giveaway that she was not being sincere.

           He laughed. “Considering where you live, that’s what phones are for.”

           Once inside his office, he locked the door behind her before taking a seat behind his desk.

           “So, what do you need?” he said in a serious tone, though not in the cold variety commonly reserved for dealing with an interrogation or other such nasty business. “I’ll try to answer any questions you have.”

           “Actually, I can’t ask the real questions quite yet. First, I need to know if you can test something for me,” she began, opening up her purse.

           He raised an eyebrow, the greatest sign he had ever showed of being intrigued. As she pulled out the soiled bandages, there was the faintest twitch of the other brow, as though he was almost tempted to have a full expression of surprise. “So it’s a DNA test you’re looking for?”

           She nodded.

           “I don’t mean to offend – I’m asking strictly for legal reasons – but this isn’t crime scene evidence, is it?”

           “No, you don’t have to worry about that.”

           He laughed. “No, I didn’t think so. I can’t promise to make it a high priority, but I’ll take a look at it after hours. You wouldn’t happen to want me to be discrete about it, would you?”

           With a sigh, she nodded. “Please; this is asking a lot as a favor, but don’t tell anyone about it at all. I’ll try to answer anything questions you have about your findings afterwards, as well.”

           He let out a chuckle. “When you say things like that, it makes me think that this is like some sort of present just waiting to be opened.” After sealing the bandages in an airtight bag and tucking it away in a drawer, he turned back to her and smiled once more. “Is there anything else?”

           “Not presently, no,” Morgan admitted, getting to her feet.

           “Well, this wasn’t much of a talk,” he sighed, glancing to the drawer in which he had placed his ‘present’.

           After walking her back to the lobby, he shook her hand once more. “Keep in touch, alright?”

           With a nod, she left the premises and headed out for shopping. Getting the groceries first, she inadvertently walked down the snack food isle and wound up picking up a variety of sweets. Afterwards, she began looking around until she found a pair of wheeled boards for the boys.

           Getting back into her car, she started for home, stopping only upon reaching the nearest town to pick up milk and frozen goods. Before she knew it, she was back on her own property and fiddling with her key to the entrance.

           What she expected was a pair of faces eager to see her, though showing slight signs of guilt, which would be explained by the somewhat of a mess behind them.

           What she got was an empty entrance. Stepping further in she found that the cottage was no different from when she had left save for Dace passionately watching the television with various DVD cases sitting on the coffee table. Without a greeting, she looked around for Kiyi, to find him in her room, with all the contents of her closets and drawers within his reach strewn about the floor, with him currently rummaging through her jewelry box.

           Based on his appearance it would seem that he had tried on some of her things – a few touches of poorly applied makeup visible on his figure and an improperly donned bra that left her torn between anger and laughter.

           After tidying the mess Kiyi had made – in more rooms than just her own – and preparing dinner, she gave them both a stern lecture – one which Dace had needed to translate for his prying brother – before sending them off to bed. They would have to wait another day to receive their treats.

 

           Sleep did not come easy to Morgan that night. While Dace and Kiyi soundly slept, she woke every couple of hours; like a child knowing they would awaken to presents. She was simply too excited to lay in bed peacefully. Almost as a sour thought, she realized that Kiyi and Dace were free of this problem for they had no idea of what she had bought them.

           Rolling over, she stared at her clock. Two in the morning. Far too soon to even consider waking them early. None the less, she didn’t feel any fatigue and knew it would take more effort than it was worth to force herself back to sleep. Instead, she slid on her slippers and fumbled about for her housecoat.

           If her boys were going to be on the computer all day learning how to speak English, she would just have to do her writing at night.

 

           Carefully opening the lid of the box, he could smell the stench of something rotting – a clear indication of the unpleasantness yet to come – but still he felt compelled to open it. The wrapping – now in tatters at his feet – told him enough about its sender.

           No return address, just a series of scratch marks where that information would be expected. It was his stalker, it had to be. The markings were simply too deliberate.

           No sooner than he had the lid removed did he let it fall to the ground. The box tipped over and its contents made a mess of his carpet. At least, it would have had whatever was following him not already ripped it apart like a tiger had sharpened its claws all about his floor.

           A head. Whoever or whatever sought him had sent him a severed head. It was that of a rabbit, but the threat was clear all the same.

           Feeling a wave of nausea overtake him, he ran for his washroom and, resting his forearms on the seat, let is face droop in the toilet bowl. After making sure his stomach was settled, he raised his head to look at the mirror. Well, not so much the mirror – it had been broken days before – but the sticky notes he had covered it with. On each and every one of them he had written the same message to himself: ‘If you think you are fine, you’ve gone crazy!’

           Something caught his eye.

           Amongst all the notes, he realized there was a single red mark on several of them. Looking from the top left corner and continuing his search from left to right until he hit the bottom right corner. Once more, he placed his head in the toilet and felt bile burn his throat and mouth.

           ahoy! run dIe

           “You are awake early.”

           Morgan felt as though her heart would stop. Looking down, she found Dace looking up at her, with his chin resting upon her thigh.

           Laughing nervously, she nodded. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d do some writing until I felt tired.” Looking to the clock, she was amazed that it was already six.

           “Sorry for being bad yesterday,” he told her, a sad tone clearly present in his otherwise smooth voice.

           It could have been the way he said it, or simply her sleep deprived mind, but she was unable to listen to his apology without picturing him placed upon her lap, bottom facing upwards. Rubbing her eyes, she muttered to herself the need for cleaning up her mind.

           “Don’t worry about it; your brother is more so who I am upset with. Your day of watching movies just means there are fewer movies you haven’t seen to watch.”

           “So you are not still mad?”

           “No, I’m not still mad.”

           With a happy squeal, he did as he had seen done many times in the movies: wrap his arms around her waist in a hug and buried his face in her side.

           Letting out a pleased chuckle, she reached down and rubbed his head. “Wait here, I got something for you yesterday.”

           Getting out of her chair, she walked to her room and opened the closet. The night before, after putting the two mermen to bed, she had placed the sweets and wheeled boards safely out of their reach, just in case Kiyi tried to snoop in the middle of the night.

           Removing only one of the boards from the closet, she returned to her computer where Dace was obediently, though excitedly, waiting for her. “Here you are,” she smiled, placing the board down in front of him.

           He stared at it curiously.

           “Here, you just need to…” she started, reaching down and placing a hand on his shoulders. Gently pushing him forward, she eased him down such that the board was comfortably placed under his stomach and chest. With her other hand, she nudged his lower back for no other reason than to be able to ‘accidentally’ brush his bottom as she moved it away.

           Even lying down atop the contraption, he still did not grasp what purpose it served.

           “Crawl,” she sighed, giving his bum a pat to get him going.

           After making the first pull with an arm since being placed on the board, his eyes went wide. “Amazing! How does it do this?” Continuing to pull himself along, he looked around excitedly at the ease in which he was moving, rolling about with only the drag of his tail – something he began using to assist his movement. “You must be a genius!”

           “Maybe,” she smirked, happy with the title he had given her.

           It wasn’t long before Kiyi pulled himself from the bathtub and brought himself into the living room, leaving a wet streak wherever he went. With eyes showing his interest, he moved over beside Dace and stared; not at the platform, but the wheels attached underneath.

           Morgan stared as the two conversed in their own language. She had not a clue what any of the particular noises meant, but knew Dace was bragging to an extent by the way he puffed out his chest and the proud expression he wore.

           On Kiyi’s face was a clear indication of jealousy.

           She had considered giving each of them their platform at the same time, but seeing the way the younger brother scowled at Dace’s fortune – along with the memory of the imp snooping through her belongings still fresh – she couldn’t help but feel it best to leave it until later.

           Leaving the room once more, this time she pulled out a bag of skittles from her closet, tore it open, and hid it in one of her housecoat’s pockets. Coming back to the living room, she fished a single candy out and offered it to the still glowing Dace.

           Overjoyed, he took it from her hand and examined it, looking at it proudly though clearly unaware that it was edible. To him it seemed as though it were a colorful and sweet smelling bauble.

           “You eat it,” she said, motioning for him to place it in his mouth.

           Following her command, he placed it in his mouth and suddenly his head shot upwards. He began to chew the small piece of candy then looked up expectantly at her; the longer he looked without being offered another piece, the closer he crawled over to her until his chin rested upon her leg, just above the knee, and had his arms wrapped around her ankles.

           Staring at him, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had created a monster. His first experience with sweets, and it was on an empty stomach. Still, having a clear view of his beautiful pleading face, well-muscled back, and other assets, she couldn’t help but smile and fish another candy from her pocket.

           He spotted the treat immediately and reached for it with one hand, but fell short as she raised it clearly out of his grasp.

           “No-no, this one goes to your brother,” she teased, tossing it over his head and to Kiyi.

           Before Dace could so much as turn around to chase after it, Kiyi had already picked it up off the floor and popped it into his mouth, knowing that he would want to do so if his brother was so obsessed over it.

          Mere seconds after the second candy had been consumed, Morgan found herself standing between two needy men, each pleading for more in their own little way; Dace with his sorrowful expression and speech, and Kiyi with his busy hands that desperately sought to find and remove the sweets from her person.

          With all their pawing and whining, she was reminded of her family’s dogs when she was a child. Once they had been given a treat, they continued to whine at the same time every day, expecting it again. Of course, her family trained their pets to do tricks in exchange for the snacks.

          “Tricks…” she whispered to herself, a sly smile finding its way to her lips. Once more her mind was overtaken by various scenes that left her feeling as though she was in desperate need of a boyfriend.

          Feeling a hand slip inside of her housecoat’s pocket, the one holding the candies, she slapped it away and quickly escaped their pawing. “That’s all you get for now,” she stated, the tone of her voice showing that there was no room for debate. “I’ll make you breakfast now and you can have some more candy later…if your studies go well. Dace, you should tell that to your brother.”

          In hindsight, she couldn’t help but feel that giving them both bland cereal after the treat was a tad mean-spirited, but with the deal in place, their bowls were quickly emptied.

          As Kiyi raced to the computer and quickly established himself as the one who would be making use of the electronic lessons, Dace was left perplexed as to how he could continue to learn without the use of the wondrous device. Much to his surprise and bewilderment, he soon found a large rectangular object dangling in front of his face.

          “Here’s what you’ll be doing for now,” Morgan said from behind him, waiting for him to take the book. “Your homework will be to read this novel.”

          Once he took it from her hands, he stared wide-eyed at its size and winced upon pulling it open and spotting the size of the print. “When I finish, I can have more…” he paused, not knowing the right word.

          “Candy. Yes, but I won’t make you read the whole thing today. If you can finish three chapters, you’re done for today.”

          “Chapters?” he asked with a smile, looking at the page numbers.

          Plucking the book from his hands, she flipped the contents to the first chapter and pointed at the large number. “This means chapter one. Read this one…” she flipped to the second chapter, “…this one…” and again for the third, “…and this one. Read all three and you’re done. But don’t cheat; I’ve read this book a lot, and I’ll be asking questions to make sure you did, too.”

          Though still bearing a look of disappointment over his task, it was far cheerier than it had been not long before, as the amount he had to read had been reduced considerably.

          With her two boys setting about their work, she soon found herself sitting on the couch alongside of Dace and busily jotting down ideas for stories, both ones in progress and those thus far unwritten.

          Every so often, Dace would glance from his novel to her papers then continue reading. During one such of these hasty looks, he turned to her and asked, “What does ‘harem’ mean?”

          “Harem?” she asked, not recalling the word ever being used in the novel she had assigned him, then realized he had seen it off of her pages of notes. Hastily turning to a fresh page, embarrassed, she smiled as she motioned for him to return to his own literature. “You don’t need to worry about that word. Just let me know if there are any parts of the story you don’t understand.”

          From then on, she made certain to tilt her notes at an angle such that he could not see them without making a noticeable effort to do so. Something so apparent she could remind him of his task rather than needing to stop working.

          By noon, each of them had completed their respective tasks. Dace had been the first to finish, successfully answering the questions Morgan asked to verify he hadn’t simply flipped through the pages; though his memory did prove a little sketchy on some details. Kiyi, upon failing the test at the end of the software’s unit, had to reread the material in order to earn his treat.

          Selecting six candies from the bag, she divided them evenly between the brothers, who reacted to the meager reward with nothing short of ecstasy. As they hungrily devoured their treats, she returned to her room, hid the rest of the bag, and pulled from her closet the board intended for Kiyi, feeling it about time he received one as well.

          The look of disappointment on Dace’s face when she came walking in with the second board would have been heart-wrenching had she not found his pouting lips ever-so adorable.

          When the board was in Kiyi’s hands, she cocked an eyebrow at how he seemed excited not over having the board, but over the wheels themselves. It was minutes before he actually placed himself on top of the board and began moving around. First, he examined the bolts the held the wheels to the board, then carefully studied the wheels themselves; curious as to their design, testing the wheel and the joint that allowed it to spin in all directions. Once satisfied with his inspection, Kiyi placed himself upon the board, wheeled himself around the room once, and made his way back to the computer.

          Even without the promise of a second reward, the boys went back to their respective tasks. Dace, because he had already become enthralled with the novel, and Kiyi for reasons unknown, but Morgan suspected it was because he wanted to catch up to his brother. Of course, either of them could have simply been expecting more treats for their efforts. Whatever the reason, it gave her plenty of peace and quiet, allowing her to accomplish a healthy amount of work.

4: Chapter 4 - Inspection

            The peace lasted for several days; a pleasantly dull duration, but she nonetheless found herself wishing for excitement of any kind to break the monotony. Kiyi had dedicated himself to the studies and had begun speaking broken English; his comprehension of language significantly less rapid than that of his brother. Dace had finished the first novel and had been introduced to the next in the series, of which he had already reached the second-to-last chapter.

            The boredom was such that it didn’t even give her much by ways of embarrassingly amusing fantasies.

            Upon settling down for another night’s rest, the monotony finally ended. Moments after pulling the quilt up to her chin, the phone rang.

            Hearing the clamor of the phone was uncommon enough to give her a start, but the two brothers, who knew nothing of the device, were in an uproar, chattering and shouting to her in a panic.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll answer it; go to sleep,” she called to them, as she rolled out of bed and made her way to the ledge between the living room and kitchen, where she kept her only phone.

            Picking it up from the charger, she sat down on the couch and answered. Without even the chance for a greeting, the familiar voice on the other end started talking.

            “M&M? It’s Ryan. I was able to finish the tests,” the scientist said excitedly over the line.

            Morgan Macleod; because of this, her closer acquaintances called her M&M. “Already? It’s only been—”

            “You brought in a mysterious blood sample. Regardless of whether it was something special or not, or even of a questionable origin, it’s not good to leave something like that lying around,” he explained in a level tone.

            “That’s true…”

            “Can I meet him?”

            Morgan dropped the phone and sat in a nervous silence for a minute before picking the phone up off the couch.

            “—ou still there?” he asked as she placed the receiver to her ear.

            “Yeah, but…like I said, I don’t want this to get out.”

            “Of course, of course,” he replied with all seriousness. “This will remain in complete confidence. Just seeing the result of the blood work…to see this would be like finding the fossils of a new breed of hominid only to bury them again without mention.”

            “So, are you going to expose them if I refuse?”

            There was dead silence over the line.

            “Hello?”

            “Them?” he bellowed, unable to maintain a façade of professionalism. “You mean you’re with more than…to think, you found not only one, but…I’m sorry.” He took a second to clear his throat and to calm down before continuing. “No; if you don’t want me to see…them, then I won’t bring up this subject again.”

            “Really?”

            “Of course; your business is your own. Though it would be nice to satiate my personal curiosity on this matter…and could you really leave this subject be as it is?”

            She winced as his comment, a sign that she knew what he was hinting at, but decided to ask for an elaboration all the same.

            “What’s the most common question you ask me whenever you write a fantasy novel? You know, for the sake of keeping characters as realistic as possible.”

            Every so often she would come to him to inquire as to whether the product of two races’ love would produce an heir that would be fertile or sterile; or whether it would be possible to bear children at all. In many ways, she regretted having ever heard of mules.

            “I’m not suggesting you’re planning to…with either of them, but I know you’re someone who likes to know their options.”

            “You’ve got me there…thanks Ryan,” she said with a smile.

            “When can I come see them?”

            She thought it over for a while which cumulated in a shrug, not that he had any chance of witnessing the gesture. “Any time you’re free.”

            “Well, it’s too late at the moment, but…let’s see, tomorrow’s a Sunday, so…” he began to hum and haw, commenting on matters such as how he’s usually the only person in that day. Sounds of him typing away at his computer could be heard and with mild shout, he offered his answer. “Would tomorrow be fine?”

            “No problem; just show up any time. Remember; not a word of this to anyone, okay?”

            “Of course; see you tomorrow.”

            Hanging up, she let out a sigh then a shriek as she found the two handsome figures staring at her from around the corner leading to the bathroom and guest room.

            “Why were you talking to that box?” Dace asked.

            “It’s a phone; it lets you talk to people who are far away,” she explained, getting to her feet. “Now off to bed with you; we’ll be having company tomorrow.”

 

            Before Morgan knew it, Ryan was at her door, waking her with a loud knock. Even though she knew he was coming, it did little to keep her from jumping from the uncommon noise; all the more so as it had roused her from her sleep. Thrashing about to free herself from the mess that was her bed sheets, she glared daggers at her clock, which read only seven.

            Pulling a pair of jeans on over her shorts and a shirt over her tank top, Morgan tiredly stormed to the entrance of her home, opened the door just a crack, and looked none too happily at her early guest. “It’s seven in the morning.”

            “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “but I wanted to make sure I’d have ample time for this.”

            “It’s a two hour drive to get here…how fast were you going?”

            “I woke up at four,” he answered bluntly.

            Knowing him well enough to file his reply as ‘common behavior’, she fully opened the door and let him in, ruffling her hair with her free hand.

            “So tell me: how will we meet, exactly?” he asked calmly as he hesitated to remove his shoes. “Do we go down to the lakefront and contact them, do you have a call, or do they have a regular location that you visit?”

            After considering her response momentarily, she devised her answer with an impish expression clear upon her face. “For all but the first point: ‘yes’.”

            “Really? Could you teach me the location and the call?”

            “Sure; listen closely…” she began, taking a breath. “Dace! Kiyi! Could you come and greet our guest?”

            The puzzled look on his face quickly evolved into one of unadulterated amazement when the two mermen crawled to the entrance, propelled by their boards. “Astounding! Genuine! Which one is Dace?”

            “I am,” Dace replied. His simple reply brought about an expression on the scientist’s face that could have easily been misconstrued as sheer terror.

            The stiff manner in which he turned his head to face him only promoted the misconception.

           “You…can speak…English?”

           “Yes, Morgan taught me,” he smiled proudly.

           “I same,” Kiyi added, though his far less eloquent speech drew far less of a reaction.

           Rubbing his own face with one hand – pulling his skin this way and that by the force in which he pressed – Ryan used his other arm to keep himself balanced by putting his hand against the wall for stability. “I-I…I need to sit down.”

           “Take off your shoes and have a seat. I’m gonna make some coffee,” she stated, moving out of the entrance and into the kitchen to prepare her drink.

           Once in the kitchen, she decided to prepare breakfast for herself and her two boys. As she worked, she watched Ryan stumble into the living room and plop down onto the couch.

           “What should we do?” Dace asked, poking his head into the kitchen.

           “Just talk with our guest – Ryan – today,” she replied, fishing some bacon out of the icebox.

           As her meal slowly came together, she watched through the window into the living room as Ryan struggled to regain his composure and hold up a discussion with the two mermen. He soon pulled out a laptop and began to frantically type down all that he heard from them, clearly not wanting to miss a word of their dialogue.

           When the food was done, she set the table and called the two over to eat.

           “They eat the same foods as you?” Ryan asked, watching them eat the bacon, toast, and eggs.

           “Yeah, though I haven’t given them any milk yet; one of the few things I learned from an anthropology class I took back in university. I even have them eat cereal dry. That’s a personal-use laptop, right?” she asked cautiously.

           “Of course; can’t mix public and private business after all. This is classified as well,” he smiled. “Now, Dace didn’t know English when you met him, correct?”

           She nodded as she took a sip of coffee.

           “And how long ago did you find him?”

           “About…two weeks now, I suppose,” she said, unsure of the dates. “Time flies around here; my editor hates that.”

           “Two…he learned to speak fluently in fourteen days?” he shouted. “That’s amazing! Did you find Kiyi at the same time?”

           “No, I found him three days after Dace.”

           With a slight downturn of his mouth, he took down her response, though was still visually impressed. “So he hasn’t picked up on it quite as fast as his brother, but still remarkably fast. After you’ve finished eating, would I be allowed to perform a physical on each of them?”

           “Dace, what do you think?” she asked, leaving it up to him to decide.

           From him there was only silence for a period, though his contemplative expression suggested that Dace was coming to a decision. “That makes sure we are healthy, right?”

           Ryan nodded.

           “That is fine.”

           “I don’t have all the equipment, but I think I can do a decent assessment as I am,” he said eagerly, rubbing his hands together.

           Surely enough, once the first of them – Dace – had finished his meal, Ryan brought him to the guest room and began thoroughly inspecting his body; checking his pulse, flexibility, eyesight, and every other test he could think to perform, even were it nothing more than prodding with his fingers.

           Naturally, Morgan watched the entire physical with gleeful interest, willing to let what was left of her own meal go cold in order to bear witness.

           Once he was finished, Ryan asked Dace to leave and fetch his brother. After he was gone, and before Kiyi had entered, Ryan turned to Morgan with a knowing smile. “I see why you haven’t introduced them to clothes.”

           With a slight blush – more so from the knowledge the two were educated enough to understand should they have overheard than the implication of them themselves – she pouted: “If there were mermaids you’d have done the same.”

           “Possibly,” he replied, laughing at himself, “but I really don’t see the appeal of fish. Maybe if vampires worked the same way…and wouldn’t try to kill me.”

           “Vampires?” Kiyi asked as he rolled into the room, but they quickly dismissed his question and got on with his physical.

           Once Kiyi’s examination was also complete, the three went into the living room so that Ryan could present his findings. He openly acknowledged his lack of tools and that his experience was predominately in a lab, not that of a doctor, but was confident in his affirmation of their well-being all the same.

           “Some time, if possible, you really ought to come to my workplace so that I can make use of the machines there. During the night shift, of course; can’t have secrets getting out.”

           “How do you know Morgan?” Dace asked suddenly, catching Ryan off guard.

           “You’ve a curious mind, haven’t you?” he asked with a smile. “M&M, is it alright with you for me to talk about our past relationship?”

           She waved her hand apathetically. “Be my guest; tell him anything he wants to know.”

           “Very well,” he turned back to Dace, folding his hands on his lap. “A few years back, M&M dropped by my lab to have some questions answered about genetics. It was late in the afternoon, so I was the only person willing to remain to answer her many questions. She was working on a murder mystery at the time, so the questions were all reasonable and simple. Expecting her to have more questions down the road, I gave her my contact information. I had no clue, mind you, what I was getting into.”

           “Please, you know very well that you don’t regret dating me,” Morgan smirked, setting herself down on her computer chair on the far side of the room.

           “Of course I did; I’m very happy with those memories,” Ryan smiled, brining a faint redness to her cheeks. “Well, after a month of fact-checking, she finished her story and moved on to another one; a fantasy story this time. Now I was left contemplating questions such as what species the offspring of vampires and humans would produce, or whether certain couplings would produce sterile heirs.”

           As he told the tale, Dace stared with wide-eyed wonder, eager to take in every word of it.

           “Those kinds of questions were a lot more interesting and, instead of just e-mail responses, we got together for dinner to discuss it. Before too long, we were dating and – a year later – we broke up.”

           “Why did you do that?”

           “Here comes the salvaging of the ego,” Morgan muttered inaudibly, leaning forwards to hear what altered version of history he’d present to make himself seem as though he had been the one to escape a wretched relationship.

           “Well, I was a workaholic and wasn’t able to separate myself from my work well enough to maintain a long-distance relationship; so she moved on, and rightly so.”

           Morgan was amazed. “You…didn’t embellish it.”

           “Of course not,” Ryan replied with an apathetic shrug. “There’s no reason for me to.” Turning back to Dace, Ryan continued. “Of course, it really was a lot of fun while it lasted.”

           “What did you like the most?” Dace asked, resting his head on the palms of his hands, his teal hair falling over his shoulders.

           Thinking it over for a moment, weighing all the experiences against one-another, he came to his decision. “Well, I still think back to and smile over one of our earlier dates; it was when I learned that M&M really likes having her—”

           “No!” she shouted, cutting him off before he finished revealing his memory. “Keep that in the vault.”

           With a nod in her direction, he turned back to Dace and apologized. “I can’t say any more about that; classified.”

           Dace continued to inquire about his past, with Morgan paying attention as to deny the details that she’d rather her boys not know; at least, not yet. For every question he answered, Ryan made sure to respond with one of his own. For Morgan, Ryan’s questions were boring as a whole, hearing only details that she already knew or had no interest in learning.

           “Hey Ryan,” she interrupted, preventing him from learning the approximate duration for which Dace could hold his breath, “Even if it’s after hours, how do you plan on sneaking either of them into your lab?”

           Rubbing his chin, Ryan considered his options. “I suppose there would be quite the risk of the evening crew, or even a janitor, seeing them. Let me think….” His contemplation lasted for several minutes as he thought out all the possibilities. “You would have to come in before too late in the evening; maybe around six or seven; any later would be suspicious in and of itself. There are a couple old fold-up wheelchairs that I’ve been planning to throw out or donating; I’ll give them to you; we can just make it appear that either of them is crippled. It would be an easy way to hide the tail.”

           “Do you think you could keep your tail still for a long time,” Morgan asked Dace, receiving a reassuring nod.

           “When next I come by, I’ll be sure to bring around some of my old shirts, along with a few from a thrift store. I know you’d like to keep them this way, but it would raise suspicions out in public.”

           Blushing and looking out the balcony window through the corners of her eyes, she nodded. “Just so long as it doesn’t become a habit.”

           With a soft chuckle, Ryan stared straight into Dace’s eyes. “I can only imagine what she’ll be teaching you and your brother later on.”

           “Don’t make it sound so ominous,” she laughed, wishing she had a pillow or similar object to hurl at his head.

           Glancing at his watch, he ran a hand through his auburn hair and winced. “My word, how time flies. It’s already half-past five. Thank you for everything, I’ll try to bring everything around within the week. I look forward to our next meeting.”

           Excusing himself from her home, Ryan hurried to his car and drove from her lot.

           Once the sound of his car could no longer be heard from indoors, a mischievous look appeared in the eyes of the two mermen, leaving Morgan feeling more than a little nervous.

           To be expected, Dace did the speaking for both of them. “We did well today?”

           “Y-yes, you did.”

           “This was a special thing, today?”

           Once more she agreed.

           “So we get candy?”

           Understanding their eagerness for the sweet treats, she went to her closet, fished out twenty pieces, and gave each of them half. Knowing the two of them would be positively giddy over their reward she stepped from her home and walked down to the lake to give them time to burn off some sugar or hide the candies away or later if they could muster that much self-restraint.

           She stepped up to her boat and started to push it into the water when she quickly decided against such action. As of late, she realized, every time she went out in her boat, she returned with one more merman. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy having them around – far from it. She simply felt two was enough for now, and that she came across them by means of injury, and she didn’t want another patient.

           Spotting a nice flat, round stone at her feet, she decided that some harmless skipping would be a fine way to pass the time until the thrill of confectionaries wore off. After winding up to throw the stone, she quickly snapped her arm forward and let fly the rock as though it were a small discus.

           However, the very instant she relaxed her grip on the rock, there came a splash in front of her as a male figure broke the surface of the water.

           “Show me your t—” he shouted enthusiastically, but was cut short as the skipping stone caught him square in the forehead before it had even managed to strike the surface of the water once.

           As the man slumped into the water, she was fearful of having struck a swimmer, but upon seeing a dolphin-like tail rise to the surface, Morgan then contemplated whether she were blessed or cursed. Deciding that, as she had found him already, she would bring him home with her, Morgan waded out into the water and retrieved the body, taking the least care in moving this one, as she had already grown tired with this routine.

           “There had better only be three of you in that water,” she mumbled to the unconscious male form. “I would like to go into the lake again without dragging home more man-candy.”

           As she made her way up the hill, he would groan as his head went over the occasional bump or rock. Rather than consider it to be a sign that she needed to handle him with greater care, she accepted the noises as a sign he was still alive.

           Tired and sweaty by the time she dragged him over the threshold, she whistled for her boys’ assistance.

           “Varden!” Dace shouted excitedly, seeing his youngest brother’s unconscious form. “You found him!”

           “He found me, actually,” she answered, releasing his tail, letting it flop in front of Dace. “He got in the way of a stone, so he’s probably not going to be feeling so well when he wakes up.”

           “Maybe that is why he was strange after meeting people,” Dace pondered. “What do you want me to do with him?”

           Chasing a thought from her mind, she decided to go through the motions. “Take him to the tub; best to clean him up before he tracks dirt everywhere.” Looking to the computer, which was occupied – once more – by Kiyi, and with Dace wheeling about with the book in hand, she let out a sigh. “Actually, I’ll clean him.”

           With a grunt, she picked up Varden’s tail and started to drag him off to the washroom. “Neither of you are hyper; didn’t you eat the candies?”

           “We are full,” he replied. “So we are saving them for later.”

           Upon entering the washroom, she closed the door behind her and dragged the body to the edge of the tub. Emptying the water Kiyi slept in, she refilled the basin with clean, warm water before hoisting the youngest brother into the tub.

           As he fell in, the water splashed him in the face, drawing out a sputter. Just as quickly, his aquamarine hair drifted away from his head, forming a halo about his head in a lovely shade of blue.

           Fishing a wash cloth from under the bathroom sink, she took a bar of soap and set to work scrubbing him clean. The same as the brothers, his skin – once clean – held color of a perfect tan.

           To no surprise, the water quickly turned a shade of grayish-brown from all the grime that was being scrubbed from his body. What did come as a shock was that he awoke from his slumber partway through and stared up at her with a pair of seductive turquoise eyes.

           “Hi Varden, your brothers are in the other room. Oh, and, uh, sorry for nailing you in face.”

           “Face?” he echoed, to her surprise.

           That he was confused was to be expected, but his pronunciation of the word was near perfect, as though he was accustomed to English. Giving it some thought, however, she recalled that he had said something to her moments before the rock struck, though couldn’t recall his words.

           “Yes, your face,” she answered, pointing to hers. “Looks like I gave your head a bruise.”

           “Give…me…head?” he asked.

           She was surprised that he had any grasp of the language at this point. Compared to Kiyi, or even Dace, he was something astounding. “Yes, that’s right.”

           The instant the word ‘yes’ left her mouth, a devilish smirk appeared on his face. “Any time.”

           Raising an eyebrow to his unexpected reaction and response, Morgan moved her hand to continue her scrubbing while staring at his curious expression when she felt something out of place. Breaking her lock on his face and glancing towards her hand, she saw what was obstructing her work and quickly pulled away.

           Without looking away, she rationalized that it was considerably more likely it was a result of her cleaning him than any thought that may resemble ones that had crossed her mind in the past. Ultimately, she realized she could just work around it, and did so.

           After a few moments of ignoring it, she swore he let out a disappointed sigh and noticed the grin had been stolen from his face. Putting the pieces together as though it were a child’s puzzle, she calmly took the washcloth and – holding one of the corners – snapped her wrist such that the cloth struck his cheek with a wet ‘thwack’.

           “If you know what I’m saying, then wipe those thoughts from your mind.”

           Pouting, Varden relaxed as the grim was cleaned from his tail.

           Once she finished, Morgan dropped the cloth on his lap, got to her feet, and stretched. “I’ll have Dace show you around and get you settled. It’s been too long of a day for me to lead you by the hand.”

           “Hand?” he asked, perking up once more – unconsciously raising the cloth.

           “You have learned a very select portion of English, haven’t you?” she asked, a blush crossing her face. “Dace, come in here, please.”

           Within a minute Dace wheeled in, an excited expression as he saw his brother awake and well in the bathtub. “Varden! Welcome!”

           “Please show him to his bed,” she requested, taking a deep breath and promptly choking. Sniffing her own armpit, she realized how long it had been since she, herself, had bathed.

           After watching the two brothers enter the hallway and head towards the guest bedroom, Morgan closed the door behind them. Draining the old water from the tub, she started drawing a warm bath and getting out of her now filthy clothes.

           Sliding into the warm water, she listened for the voices of Dace and Varden, barely able to hear the dolphin-like whistles and clicks between the two from one room over. Halfway through her bath, the noises stopped and she found herself truly able to relax. Enjoying the tranquility until the water turned cold, she decided it was time for bed and, rising from the water, stepped from the basin to hear an odd creak.

           Looking to the door, she found Varden smiling from ear to ear and Dace bewildered with his notable look of intense interest. Knowing immediately whose fault the entry was, she reached back, took hold of the soap, and pitched it at Varden. It struck square in the face and broke apart on contact, leaving him rolling about in pain from both the impact and the segments that found their way into his eyes.

           Picking up a towel and wrapping it around her body, Morgan proceeded towards the door. “Don’t listen to anything he has to say,” she instructed, immediately receiving a nod from Dace. “And don’t look up.”

           His confusion was clear as day on his face to the latter portion of her demands, but obliged as she stepped over him and rushed to her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

5: Chapter 5 - Censored

           The second her alarm sounded, Morgan sprung out of bed without a moment’s hesitation. Now that she knew how Varden behaved, she could not stay in bed without worrying of how he would influence the others. Looking through her bookcase, she picked up a hefty, hardcover dictionary. A grin passed her lips as she gave it a testing smack against the palm of her hand.

           After pulling on a pair of blue shorts and a matching t-shirt, only then did she unlock her bedroom door. By the demands of her rumbling stomach, she entered the kitchen and set to work cooking a large omelet.

           With the aroma of the cooking eggs and cheese in the oven, it was not long before the three well-toned bodies piled into the kitchen’s doorway.

           “It’s almost ready, just sit at the table and I’ll bring it out,” she told them, chuckling at their eagerness.

           The three waited patiently as she brought out the meal, followed by glasses of water for each of them, still cautious about feeding them milk, not wanting to go overboard on the dairy.

           “Could I have a drink?” Varden asked, ignoring the glass of water.

           “You have one, that’s yours,” she explained pointing at his cup, confused as to why he hadn’t realized.

           “No, no, beer! Not water.”

           “Oh, then no,” she answered bluntly, not bothering to mention she hadn’t any in her home.

           “Come on dude, I’m not gonna steal your keg!” he argued, his response’s content and the flow of the words sounding so strange she found it rehearsed; as though he were a parrot repeating a phrase.

           Once more she could only wonder from where he had learned to speak.

           “What is beer?” Dace asked, familiar with the word but not the item itself.

           “It’s wicked! You get such a buzz, and when a woman has enough of it in her, she’ll totally—”

           “Never mind,” Morgan interrupted, successfully cutting off the youngest brother’s explanation by swatting him in the cheek with the front cover of the dictionary. Just hard enough to make the skin blush and stop his speech, without causing any real harm. “Once you’re finished eating: Kiyi, I want you to share the computer with Varden so he can get a start on learned things properly.”

           From his hesitant nod, she gathered that he understood the intent of her order, but not the message in its entirety.

           “I am to continue reading; am I right?” Dace asked, his eyes shimmering with hope.

           “Yes, that’s right,” she replied, smiling at his enthusiastic cheer that followed.

           After moving another chair next to the computer, Morgan settled down on the couch to resume planning her novels, making good use of the quiet found in the three brothers all keeping busy with their educations.

           Within an hour of enjoying her silence, Dace was tugging on her sleeve, a perplexed expression clear in his eyes.

           “Is the story missing pages?” he asked, lowering his gaze to the page numbers.

           “No…why?” she asked, knowing full well that the novel was in pristine condition.

           “There is a missing piece in the story,” he replied. “Two characters leave and then come back, only sweaty and exhausted, but it does not say why.”

           Morgan had to force herself to stifle a laugh; a person was supposed to interpret the gap as something obscene, only to be proven wrong later in the narrative. Of course, she hadn’t planted such thoughts in his head as of yet, hence his confusion. “Well, that’s because the—”

           “Sweaty? Exhausted?”  Varden asked, turning about in his chair. “The two must have been fooling around!”

           Knowing what he was planning to say, Morgan grabbed the dictionary and got up from her seat.

           “Fooling around?” Dace asked. “Playing?”

           “No, no! The two were having hot—”

           Once more his commentary came to a premature close by means of a swift blow to the head. “You should start seeing a pattern soon. But just in case: stop that kind of talk.”

           Leaving him to rub his sore cranium, Morgan moved back to her seat and properly explained to the waiting merman that the missed scene was intentional and would be properly explained later on. After a moment’s consideration, she mentioned that certain authors would omit details without ever offering an explanation, leaving it up to the reader’s imagination as to what had occurred.

           With a nod of comprehension, Dace eagerly resumed his studies, ignoring what had happened to his youngest sibling. The peace resumed until noon, at which point all studies ceased for the sake of their meal and reward.

           “Was good, we get treat, yes?” Kiyi asked, sliding out of his chair and onto his board.

           “That’s right, you’ll get your reward,” she answered, getting up from the couch.

           “Reward?” Varden said with a smile, flopping out of his chair as his brother had done.

           “I guess your brothers haven’t told you; when you’re good and study, I give you a treat,” she explained, watching him scurry along the floor even faster that his brothers who had their boards.

           “Reward!” he shouted eagerly, reaching her legs. He quickly arched his back and reached up, grabbing hold of the legs of her shorts and pulling.

           Quickly taking hold of her waistband with one hand, Morgan prevented the fabric from sliding any lower than it already had. With her other hand she once again put to use her vindictive tome, clubbing him upon the top of his skull with enough force to leave him floored.

           “Each time you do something like that I hit you, or haven’t you noticed?” she asked, bending over to ensure he could hear. “So clean up your act unless you’re looking forward to some bruises. The reward is some candy, so don’t get grabby again.”

           Heading into the kitchen, she tore open a few packages of noodles and boiled some water. Lunch was going to be simple this day. Fetching some peanut butter and a bottle of hot sauce and placing it on the dining room table, she poured the water and finished setting the table.

           “Put whatever you want in,” she offered, pointing to the peanut butter and hot sauce. “Just don’t put in too much or it won’t taste very good.”

           Each of them sniffed the contents of both containers. Kiyi left them alone, Dace put in a generous amount of each, and Varden carefully added a sampling of each to his bowl.

           Dace took his first taste of his concoction and began coughing almost immediately. From the beads of sweat forming and rosiness of his skin, she knew he had added more spice than he could handle.

           “That’s all you’re getting,” she told him, slurping up some noodles from her bowl. “Next time, remember not to use so much.” Looking across the table, she saw Varden adding a slightly greater amount of each into his soup then stirring it, Morgan let out a sigh. “I hate to say this, but…you could learn a thing or two from your brother.”

           A few unrelated – and unvoiced – ideas popped into her mind as well.

           As each of them emptied their bowl – Dace taking by far the longest – they flopped from their chairs and set back to their tasks. After washing the dishes, Morgan took a few candies from her closet and gave an equal share to each of them.

           “My idea was better,” Varden sighed, popping the candies into his mouth and turning back to the computer screen. Despite his statement, his mouth belied his disappointment.

           Dace – too – devoured the treats the moment he received them, letting out a deep, relieved sigh to have a more palatable flavor occupy his mouth.

           When Kiyi received his, he slipped away to the bathroom and hid the candies within the sink’s cupboard. After sliding a few towels to conceal his cache, he noticed the pipe that ran from the sink into the wall. Removing his head from the cupboard, he turned on the faucet so that a slight trickle of water poured into the sink and down the drain. He then placed his head below, with an ear against the pipe.

           Hearing the water move through the metal cylinder, his eyes went wide and he found himself fascinated. Chewing on his thumb, he turned off the water, closed the cupboard doors, and began exploring. With a quick glance at the tub – his bed – he assumed it was set up the same way.

           Wheeling himself into his brothers’ room, he found a lamp and flicked the switch. To his expectations, the light bulb illuminated. Flipping the switch once more, the light went out and he smiled. By means of a quick examination of the lamp, he found the power cord and followed it back to the wall. Pulling the plug from the wall, he flipped the switch once more and found that the light did not come on.

           With an understanding nod, he reconnected the power and saw the light turn on. Flipping the switch once more, he reached up and unscrewed the bulb before moving the switch back to the ‘on’ position. Seeing it not come on, he started screwing the bulb back in and gave a wide, knowing smile as he witnessed the light return.

           Turning off the light one final time, he resumed his search around the home for other items he could study.

           When he returned to the living room, Morgan wondered what he was doing, but as she heard no sound of items breaking and he had already done all the studying she had wanted him to do for the day, so she paid it no mind. Dace was still busy reading, still so enthralled by the novel that he hadn’t even asked to watch TV or a movie since having started.

           Looking over to Varden, she was glad that he was silently studying on his own. Just as she looked down to her work, she performed a double-take and noticed something off about the screen. Picking up the dictionary as a precaution, she walked up behind him and saw that he was using the Internet for illicit purposes.

           With a moment’s consideration, she found herself more impressed that he had learned how to do so on his own than upset over his actions and so gave him only a notifying bump on the head. After his attention was taken away from the screen by the unexpected blow, she leaned over, closed the window, and then discretely pulled the Internet cable from the back of the computer.

           “Either study or do something else,” she told him, an ultimatum that led him to load up a game of solitaire; furrowing his brow as he slowly learned the rules of the simple game.

           The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. Kiyi’s explorations proved considerate enough as to not cause beyond a slight inconvenience upon testing cables attached to the back of the computer. Dace needed help with only a few portions of his novel, but succeeded in catching a typo. Even Varden managed to behave himself – relatively speaking.

           When it came time to prepare dinner, Morgan found two of her boys gathered around her feet. Kiyi was hoping to watch her manipulation of the stove to better grasp its function, while Varden insist on being allowed to smell and sample everything she put into the meal – everything from vegetable oil to the pepper.

           As she cooked, he studied everything – the setting of the dials on the stove, how much of each ingredient she added and when, and how much or little she stirred the ingredients.

           Upon sitting down to eat, Morgan took note of how each of the brothers went about consuming their portion. For Kiyi, she thought that he was devouring the food without giving it a thought – as if his mind were so preoccupied with other things that he were doing nothing but swallowing air. Dace showed more enthusiasm over her effort, joyfully eating his meal, spouting compliments of how well it tasted and going so far as to lick the plate when there was no more left to enjoy.

           She knew that he appreciated her cooking.

           Varden, she realized, was being the most contemplative of the three in how he ate. The seriousness on his face as he slowly consumed his meal surprised her because of the contrast over his normal behavior. From staring at his cheeks and jaw line, Morgan could see how slowly he chewed and seemed to move the morsel about in his mouth before continuing. She also realized that he started by picking up single ingredients at a time from the curry at the start of the meal then – upon having sampled each item individually – worked his way up, taking in combinations of the portions.

           His thoughtful way of eating left the impression of a critic considering the quality of a meal. She could swear that after most samplings, he would take a sip of water to cleanse his palette.

           Watching him eat, she couldn’t help but think that – unlike Dace – he would be worth making an attempt to teach how to cook.

           Once dinner had been eaten and the dishes were cleaned, she called everyone to the couch to enjoy a movie – something Dace anticipated far more than his brothers. Selecting a film about an android assassin from the future, it was not long before even the apathetic brothers’ eyes were glued to the screen.

           As the movie neared the credits, or rather the moment the android was finally destroyed, the three brothers let out a collective sigh of relief. The ominous final utterance of the heroine – Morgan noted – had been missed by the mermen for Dace smiled and said “a happy ending”, to which his siblings agreed.

           “Well, actually…” Morgan commented, rolling her eyes, “there are more movies in this story.”

           “More…movies?” Kiyi asked, intrigued.

           “Yeah, like…Dace, you know how one of the stories you’ve read continues in another book?” she asked, receiving an enthused nod as a reply. “This movie is like that.”

           Dace tilted his head to one side. “The movie was not like the book at all.”

           “No, no,” she sighed. “That series has a story that goes between books, understand?”

           “Yes….”

           “The movie we just watched has a story that goes between movies.”

           His eyes widened. “Oh! So there’s more?” he smiled happily.

           “That’s right.”

           Squealing, he turned to his brothers and began explaining it to them in their native tongue, which didn’t take very long, for they too were soon behaving in an excited fashion.

           “Can we see?” Kiyi asked hopefully. Morgan noticed his tasty rump moving back and forth on the cushion.

           “W-well, not tonight,” she answered with a cough, purging her mind of dirty thoughts. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” In face of the brothers’ pleas, she remained strong and shooed them off to bed, feeling like a villain for having said ‘no’.

           Deciding she had been awake long enough as well, Morgan walked to her own room, pushing the doors closed upon entering then bolting them shut and pulling closed the purple curtains hung upon them. Stripping to her underwear, she started crawling into bed when she heard a knock from across the room.

           As she returned to her feet, she entertained the thought of Dace being unwilling to sleep alone. Unlocking the doors, she pushed one open to find the youngest sibling slide his way inside.

           “Oh, Varden, what do you need?” she asked, shaking her head; more out of her own embarrassment than displeasure at seeing this one.

           “This bed is nice; want to sleep on this bed,” he smiled, crawling towards it at a casual pace.

           Before he made it three pulls, she set a foot down on his tail as a sign for him to stop. “I don’t think so.”

           “You don’t want to be lonely in bed, right?” he asked with a smile of clearly feigned innocence.

           “How drunk were the women that worked on?” she countered; deciding that his question was not worth dignifying with a proper reply.

           “I’m quite good,” he said, his voice sounding as though her were preparing for an interview.

           Stepping off his tail, she walked lazily to the bookshelf to the right of the room’s entrance and found a nice hardcover novel. Turning around, she boxed the side of his head with the back cover and frowned. “Seriously, you have absolutely no tact whatsoever.”

           Rolling onto his back, he looks up at her and frowns as he rubs the side of his face. “A ‘no’ would do,” he pouted.

           “I like making a point,” she snapped, tapping her foot impatiently for him to leave.

           Before he had finished rolling back onto his front, she noticed a rather human portion of his anatomy prominently displayed as a result of what she had made failed expectations of the evening.

           As he crawled from the room, his movement slowed as he kept his buttocks in the air to avoid rug burn on a vulnerable area, Morgan decided that of all the brothers, he would need to be forced into some form of clothing.

           Locking the door the moment he was clear of the threshold, she peered out through one of the door windows in hopes that as Varden was leaving, Dace was approaching. As it was a fantasy that did not occur, Morgan resigned herself to bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she rolled onto her side.

           In little time, she was having a dream in which every little thing left her with another merman to take care of. Starting up her car and driving a few feet to find that she had run over one’s tail fins. Opening the front door smacked another in the face. Even a heavy rain left a couple of them flopping about on her property.

 

           The next morning Morgan rose to find her hand laying on her clock, the snooze button pressed down. Though she had set the clock to wake her at seven-thirty, through hazy vision she noticed that it was already past ten. Springing to her feet, she found a casual dress and pulled it on, realizing that her boys would undoubtedly be hungry by now.

           Unlocking and pulling open her bedroom doors Morgan spotted Dace on the living room couch, reading peacefully. Mere feet from where she stood was a still wet trail along the hardwood floor from the bathroom into the kitchen, alerting her that Kiyi was out of bed for the day. Without leaving the doorway to her room, she leaned to the right and to see the computer, spotting Varden who was studying quietly.

           “I’m awake,” she greeted heading for the washroom. “I’ll make breakfast for you in a minute.” Taking a beige towel from under the sink, she placed it under one foot and slid it along the floor, wiping up the wet line left by Kiyi. None of the boys paid her any mind but she felt an odd sight as she started moving her leg in a circle to better dry the floor.

           Once she was satisfied with the condition of the floor, Morgan turned her head to see Varden’s bum resting comfortably on the computer chair. Without warning she stepped over and pulled him out of his chair before wrapping the towel around his waist. He struggled in her arms for a moment, but almost immediately settled down at once when one of her hands touched his waist. By the time he was able to be disappointed by the true nature of her ambush, the towel had already been firmly tied in place.

           Staring at her handiwork, she found that the problem hadn’t been entirely hidden, only obscured, but Morgan decided it was an adequate solution. She watched as Varden tugged at it then quickly gave up without making any real attempt at untying it.

           “Why did you do that?” Dace asked, setting down his book and crawling over to his brother’s side.

           “Never you mind,” she answered. “Let me just get started on breakfast for everyone, okay?”

           “That is easy,” Varden began, seeking to fill in his naïve sibling. “She gets turned on by my c—”

           Snatching up Dace’s book from the coffee table, Morgan was able to strike him across the face in time to cut his mostly inaccurate explanation short. Because it seemed as though he was going to make an attempt to finish what he had started, she gave him another couple of softer whacks to make her point clear.

           “It’s time for breakfast,” she stated, handing the novel back to Dace, who seemed quite perplexed as to why his youngest brother was always subject to this sort of treatment.

           Making her way across the living room to the kitchen, Morgan immediately understood that this was not going to be a peaceful day. She could already hear the sounds of foodstuffs falling to the floor. The mess she saw moments later was better than she had expected – only bread, fruits, and plastic jars littered about the floor – with Kiyi pulling items out of the fridge, examining them momentarily, and then throwing them over his shoulder.

           The saving grace having been that the milk and glass containers were all too high up for Kiyi to reach. What’s more, the freezer, which was further along in the kitchen, had been left untouched, though it would have been even more difficult for him to terrorize than the fridge.

           “Get out of her,” she shooed, placing her hands on his buttocks and pushing him from the kitchen. Once she had the tiny room all to herself, she ruffled her light brown locks in frustration.

           Based on the items that needed to be put away, she selected what their meal would consist of, as to make this the smallest inconvenience possible. Once the mess had been cleared, she set the table with a meal of bananas and toast with peach jam.

           Though it was an unusual meal, none of them seemed to realize that was only a lackluster attempt by someone who was already longing for a good night’s rest.

           Morgan couldn’t help but sigh as she ate. Taking care of two wholly dependent men had been trouble enough, but with the third one who needed considerable social reconditioning, this once dreamlike scenario had quickly become unpleasant. It wouldn’t be so bad, were they only able to pull their own weight somehow.

           Thinking it over, cooking was the most time-consuming endeavor, but she didn’t trust Dace to have anything to do with heated surfaces, knives, or other potentially dangerous tools. The same applied to Kiyi, only his curious and mischievous nature make her fearful for entirely different reasons. As for Varden….

           Her eyes widened. That one had shown a competence for seasoning food, based on how he had handled the noodle soup. Were he to be able to prepare everyone’s meals, she decided, Varden would actually have a redeeming quality. Having him busy cooking could also keep him busy and away from corrupting the others.

           With a plan in mind to guide the youngest brother down the path of a chef, she wondered just what the others could do to help make her life easier. Nothing came to mind for Kiyi, but so long as he kept sticking his nose in everything, she was sure there would one day be something. As for Dace, she had to repeatedly dismiss the idea of having him fill the role of her own personal gigolo. In the end, she decided he could make do as a proofreader for her projects. It was a dull job, but one he may find exciting nonetheless.

           One by one the brothers finished off their meals and spread out to go back to their own assigned tasks. Before Varden was able to slither away, however, she reached over and placed a hand on one of his shoulders.

           Feeling her touch, a sly grin came to his face and his tail started to wiggle.

           “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she warned him, hoping to dash his hopes before he got something else up. “Since you can speak well enough for now, I thought I’d teach you how to cook.”

           “Cook?” he asked, the tone of his voice suggesting more that it was asked out of disappointment than a language barrier.

           “Yes; I have some cookbooks I haven’t touched in months and it’d be handy if at least one of you three could help out around the house,” she explained in a level voice. As he pushed out his lower lip in disappointment, she threw out another line that she knew would bring him hope, though of the false variety. “You know, women like a man who can cook.”

           “Show me!” the merman exclaimed excitedly, rubbing his hands together in a sinister manner.

           A faint but genuine smile came to her lips and she nodded. “We’ll start you off with something simple – pancakes.”

 

           Over the course of the day, Morgan allowed him to attempt several recipes. The first try at pancakes left them with many charred misshapen discs than those that were edible, and even then there were eggshells and lumps of baking powder that rendered them almost equally inedible.

           Wanting him to get the hang of something simple before moving on to a more advanced – and costly to attempt – recipe she had him try again, which yielded surprising results. Some pancakes wound up being overcooked, but none had burned. With no obvious flaws Morgan made use of them for lunch; their taste matching what she was used to and between the four of them, there were only a couple of small pieces of eggshell.

           After giving Varden a congratulatory pat on the head, she had him help her with the dishes before starting him in on how to bake cookies. It seemed as though he had already gained an understanding of measuring, order, and preparation because he succeeded in following the recipe properly until the point where he confused baking with frying.

           Morgan knew better than to leave him unsupervised, however, so everything turned out fine.

           With all the sugar and chocolate chips that he had used in the recipe, rewarding Varden with skittles seemed like an unnecessary reward and simply allowed the trio to distribute them amongst themselves. Varden claimed the lion’s share for reasons that she attributed to personal effort over abject gluttony.

           By evening he had mastered the use of eggs – in so much that he no longer made the mistake of allowing any bits of shell to disrupt his cooking – and successfully made an omelet for dinner.

           The ability to have prepared everything oneself seemed to have been missed by Varden’s brothers who, as they ate, excitedly tried to convince Morgan to let them watch another movie after dinner. They seemed to congratulate themselves over getting her to agree despite it having been her intention all along, even routine by now.

           Once Morgan and the cook had cleaned the dishes, she put on a movie for them to enjoy about a rich bitch losing her memory and being taken advantage of by a carpenter who she had ripped off. Unlike the other movies they had enjoyed it was neither horror, action, nor fantasy, but a slow-paced comedy which, to Morgan’s delight, they enjoyed all the same.

           By the time the movie had concluded she decided she was ready for a good night’s sleep and insisted the brothers do the same. Ushering them off to bed, she decided to reward the youngest for not only his improved behavior but also for taking on some of the responsibilities of the household. As he crawled into bed, she brought him a couple of cookbooks she had in the kitchen and suggested he look through them to find something he’d like to try making in the future.

           As she turned to leave for her own room, she felt a hand squeeze her right buttocks. Glancing over her shoulder and through her light brown hair she could see an impish grin on Varden’s face and a twinkle in his turquoise eyes as he enjoyed the placement of his hand.

           Raising a hand, she brought it down on his head and ruffled his aquamarine hair such that it covered his face and was strewn every which way. “I’ll let that one slide, now off to bed with you,” she sighed.

           Her eyes then moved to Dace who was buried up to his nose in the covers and staring up at her with big puppy dog eyes that made her want to cuddle him right then and there, but had to be mindful of the still poorly trained brother in the adjacent bed. Moving the other side of Dace’s bed – away from Varden – she bent over and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead.

           With a large smile made visible as he pulled the sheets down an inch, he cheerfully wished her a good night’s rest and closed his eyes.

           Secretly Morgan wished his brothers could be that sweet and innocent, but the author inside of her decided that it would be quite dull to be surrounded by carbon copies of the same basic personality.

           Crawling into her own bed after getting changed, Morgan happily fell asleep. Life was going to be a little bit easier on her now that she had one of the three picking up some duties.

6: Chapter 6 - Bring Him to the Lab

           Days went by and the brothers’ studies continued. Dace started reading novels on the adult level and was doing so without the need to resort to a dictionary; in fact, there were times in which he pointed out to Morgan grammatical or spelling errors. Kiyi had finally reached an acceptable level of understanding but never became enthralled by literature in the way his elder brother had. Instead, he spent his time getting his hands into everything, even disassembling one of the clocks in the guest room. Varden also was able to polish his speech and made great strides in cooking. The aquamarine-haired pervert had yet to become a gourmet chef, but he had a certain flair for the art and Morgan was more than happy to let him prepare two of the three meals each day.

            With the brothers doing so well, Morgan found the computer available for her writing, allowing her to finally set about changing her notes and shorthand into the story proper. She still had some time before her deadline, but the sooner she finished, the more time she’d have to edit and polish her manuscript to limit her regrets when it hit the shelves.

            At the start of what she presumed would be another day of peaceful leisure, Morgan woke to the scent of hash browns wafting in past the glass double doors of her room. She always kept them shut, locked, and the blinds closed; even if Varden’s behavior had improved, Morgan knew he’d sneak in the first chance that came around.

            Breathing deep and taking in the aroma she let out a pleased sigh as she swung her feet out from under the covers and on to the thick shag carpet below. The clock read eight-nineteen, which had become late enough for her in the past few weeks. No sooner than she pulled on her housecoat and slippers did the phone ring, making her flinch out of surprise.

            It rang again and she calmed down, and by the third time she was ready to answer. “Hello?”

            “Hi M&M, it’s me.” It was the recognizable voice of her ex. “Sorry for calling so early—”

            “Nah, you got me just late enough.”

            “Splendid. Well, I’ve been looking at my lab’s schedule and I should be able to pencil you in for tomorrow evening.”

            Morgan rubbed her eyes wondering if perhaps it was still too early in the morning or something had outright slipped her mind. Unable to form a proper response, she made due with an unintelligible noise to convey her confusion.

            “I’ll swing by this afternoon with everything you’ll need.”

            “What? Hey, w-” before she could protest the sound of his hanging up was heard and she was left to wonder just what that had been about. Though she was tempted to phone him back, Morgan decided it best to just wait until he had arrived in person to sort things out.

            Moving to the kitchen she filled her plate with hash browns and retrieved some ketchup from the fridge. Whatever appointment Ryan had been talking about, having it tomorrow suited her just fine, as it had been over a week since she last went shopping and the freezer and pantry were in need of more than a few items.

            Beyond the call from her ex, the day passed like any other day before it until 4 at which time he arrived as promised. After opening the door for him, Morgan was only given enough time to say his name before he handed her a cardboard box.

            “You’ll find the shirts in there – I got a collection of styles and sizes, so pick whatever is the most comfortable. I have the fold up wheelchair right here,” Ryan told her, motioning to the compact item he had held under one arm. “I wish I could give you more time for all this, but two people asked for tomorrow off just this morning….”

            “Ryan!” she shouted, derailing his train of thought. His head moved so fast from her call that even his trim auburn hair could be seen moving from the sudden shift. “What the hell is this all about?”

            He stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, M&M, I was moving at my own pace. Would you mind if I come in and explain?”

            “Yeah, why not; come on in. Have a seat in the living room and I’ll be right with you” she offered, carrying the box inside and bringing it to the guest room.

            He followed her in, leaning the wheelchair against the wall of the entrance and removed his shoes. As he made his way for the living room couch, he spotted Kiyi wheeling himself along the floor, moving towards the guest room in hopes of rummaging through the newly delivered package. Dace was seated on the couch happily reading The Hobbit, so Ryan took a seat on the far end as to not disturb him.

            The scent of meatloaf cooking in the oven caught his attention and the geneticist turned his head left towards the kitchen. Both eyebrows raised in shock as he spotted Varden through the kitchen window, busy chopping ingredients for a salad.

            “Okay, now, start from the beginning,” Morgan demanded as she came back.

            “Three?” he shouted so loud that not only Dace looked up, but Varden as well.

             Rubbing her ears from the sudden burst of noise, the author nodded. “That’s right, I never told you. That’s Varden,” she introduced, the merman blowing her a kiss at the sound of his name. “He’s a horny little bastard but unlike his brothers, he’s learned how to cook quite well.”

            “Only you…” Ryan mumbled under his breath.

            “What?”

            “Never mind. Last time I was here, when I gave Dace and Kiyi the physicals, I mentioned using the lab sometime for more thorough tests….”

            She had to think about it for a while to remember but Morgan eventually nodded. “Right, I had forgotten about that.”

            “Yes, well, I was waiting for someone to ask for time off, and as luck would have it, both employees who work evening shifts have both asked for the day off tomorrow. If you wheel in one of your…men before six, we can have you signed in at the front desk before closing.”

            “Okay, if we do this, who do I have to worry about?” she asked. Morgan honestly did want to learn the results of as many non-intrusive tests as possible, but not if it meant word getting out about her wondrous find.

            “Signing in, you just need to keep the receptionist from seeing their tail. After that, you can stay in my office until after everyone else leaves. The night janitor works until eight, but she’s not allowed to clean anywhere that’s having tests being run, so we just need to start with a full body CT scan and she’s as good as safe until we’ve got the place to ourselves. Better yet, we could start with blood samples so that your choice doesn’t even need to leave the chair.”

            “Great! Wait…what about security cameras?”

            The security of his lab was one of the things he prided himself on. Along with studies in Ryan’s field, the facility had everything any decent hospital would have and had been made use of on multiple occasions by local hospitals. Making sure valuable equipment wasn’t stolen or test results intruded upon was something he needed to ensure wouldn’t happen.

            “We’ll be careful. I’m the only person with access to the footage and any slips we have, I’ll be sure to remedy. Are you in?”

            It was clear to her that he desperately wanted this plan to go ahead, and by the way one of her legs bounced up and down, the feeling was mutual. Without Ryan, she’d have no means of learning anything and she trusted his ability to adhere to his principles. Still, if she could think of even a single thing that would put her life with the brothers in jeopardy, she could do without ever knowing.

            “Do you need some time to think it over?”

            She nodded, her light brown hair swaying with her head. “Yeah…let me think it over at least until after dinner. If I can’t think of a single reason to turn down the offer, I’m in.”

            “Is that an offer to enjoy a merman’s cooking?” he asked with an almost mischievous smile. At least, that’s how it would have appeared on anyone else’s face but with his personality she couldn’t be sure.

            “It is,” she laughed. “Before I start picking your plan apart, what do you think the odds are of it going awry?”

            “Things can always go wrong,” he admitted, being a realist. “If someone at the company I hired to archive my security footage looks it over and finds gaps, they might question it. If the breaks are kept short it shouldn’t be an issue. Test results could be found by someone who snoops well enough, but I plan to do some thorough purging to remove any evidence and I know systems and protocols to handle anything that could arise.”
            “You’re sure?”

            “Yes…” he answered immediately then thought it through. “Yes. Whatever comes up, it’ll fall on my shoulders and not yours. I just have to know more!”

            “Okay, fine, I’m in. Dace, how’d you like to come with me to town tomorrow?”

           Dace had been pretending to read as the conversation had been going on, doing as well as an infant in his deception. Lowering the book to below his chin, having been holding it mere inches from his face during his charade, the blue-eyed merman gave an openmouthed smile of elation. “I can?”

           She nodded. “That’s right, but I’ll need to teach you a few things tonight before you’re allowed. If you’re good, I’ll even give you a whole bag of skittles after tomorrow.”

           The expression that replaced the former led Morgan to believe Dace had rainbows appearing in mass within his head. Giving him access to that much sugar all at once would certainly have its consequences, but she wanted to make sure he behaved when it mattered.

           “Well, with that all sorted, I suppose I should take my leave…” the guest announced, getting to his feet.

           “Sit your ass back down,” she ordered. “You’re still invited for dinner. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to speak candidly with the brothers.”

           Over dinner, the brothers had as many questions for Ryan as he had for each of them, his being simple in nature but not always answerable, stemming from a lack of knowledge on their own species.

           Dace asked about towns and the lab, which the ex was more than happy to answer. Kiyi inquired about various personal or intimate details about his life as well as his former relationship with Morgan, the greater share of which the hostess forbade him from answering. Varden, revealing his true nature, asked for information on Morgan’s sexual habits and preferences; a topic that was not only immediately vetoed, but earned the half-man a decent thumping as punishment.

           As if not having their questions answered wasn’t a great enough disappointment as it was, the potential for a great deal of candy that was available to their elder brother but neither of them led them to occasionally stare daggers at the unknowing Dace with their eyes.

            When the meal had concluded, Ryan helped with dishes then took his leave, having a long drive ahead of him. Once he was gone, Morgan set about giving Dace the instructions he would need to follow in order to come to town: not talking to anyone other than her and Ryan, to stay in the wheelchair, not move his tail, and to never wander off.

            Though he said he understood, she took care to reinforce the notion through practice: having him play the mute no matter his brothers’ provocation then wrapping everything below his waist in a blanket and putting on a movie for him to enjoy to ensure he’d keep his tail still. This not only ensured he could keep it still for a good deal of time, but also while excited. Passing the tests, she decided to call it a night and insisted that Dace do the same for the long day ahead.

 

           Their morning went on as would any ordinary day – considering Morgan’s wonderfully unusual circumstances – though Dace showed all the excitement of a young child knowing he would leaving for an amusement park. Every ten minutes he would call to her, asking if they would be leaving soon, only for her to reply that they wouldn’t leave until two in the afternoon.

            When noon rolled around, she made sure to feed the three brothers before getting Dace into a light hooded sweater. It was warm enough to wear something lighter, but she wanted to keep him as covered as possible. The fact that his first experience wearing clothes would be an uncomfortable one also factored into her decision.

            The time for departure drew near and so Morgan made sure to go over the plan with Dace once more in hopes that any potential faux-pas would be avoided. He once again demonstrated good self-restraint in avoiding speaking as well as not moving his tail – the latter more essential to the plan than the former. However, when she asked him to try moving forward using the wheelchair, the most unusual thing occurred.

            The attempt had been made in the living room on its nice hardwood floors. Kiyi and Varden were kept out of the way and Morgan had made special care to check that nothing was littering the floor. All in all, it was the ideal condition for a test run. Still, within two seconds – and too fast to even spot where he had gone wrong, Dace managed to make the chair topple forwards, sending the accident prone merman sprawling to the floor only to have the back of the seat whack him in the shoulder blades as it fell on top of him.

            As Dace let out a high pitch squeal – more so from surprise and confusion than pain – Morgan stared on in disbelief. She gave herself ten seconds to collect her thoughts before letting out a loud sigh and shaking her head, the fingers of her left hand pressed to her forehead.

            “I…how…was that intentional?” she asked, staring at the mess with half-closed eyes. “I tested it myself, so that had to have been your fault….”

            Dace looked up at her from over his shoulder with big sad topaz eyes. “What did I do wrong?”

            “Did you push forward?” Kiyi asked. “With your body?”

            “Uh-huh,” the eldest brother nodded, calming down.

            “Just use your arms, do not lurch with our body,” he instructed.

            “Y-yeah…how hard did you…lurch to flip the whole chair?” Morgan asked, wincing. Secretly she was amazed at both the clumsiness of Dace and the observational skills of the middle brother. “Well, for today I’ll push you myself, and you can practice…not failing so hard another time, okay?”

             The puppy dog eyes flared up again, but he stayed quiet and nodded.

            “Good, I’ll fold up the wheelchair and put it in my car. You come outside as well, but leave your board behind.”

            Mention of leaving perked him right up and he wheeled himself to the front door, where he left the board tilted up on it side.

            It surprised Morgan how quickly he moved to the door, thinking that he may very well finish preparing before she could, but found herself able to get ahead once outside; between the grass and his lack of transportation, his crawl clearly took a lot more effort while she was able to calmly stroll past with the chair in her arms.

           Folding it up and sticking it in the trunk, Morgan unlocked the car doors and waited for Dace to reach the passenger side where she helped lift him onto the seat. Getting the blanket wrapped around his tail, she made sure that aside from his hair – which could be explained with dyes – there was nothing visible to show his not-quite-human nature.

           Making sure both of them were buckled in, Morgan started the car, which drew a squeak of excitement from her companion. She noted how his eyes went wide and jaw slack from the mere act of her driving in a tight circle and pulling out onto the country road. His hands balled up momentarily before he pressed his hands against the window and stared out at the road as it went moving by.

           “How…how do you make every move?” he asked, perplexed.

           “It…” she paused to consider what answer would satisfy her mechanically maligned man. “It’s like a big wheelchair.”

           He let out a drawn out noise making clear that he was astounded by her grasp of something so complex.

           “You’ve never been this far from the lake, have you?”

           He shook his head.

           “Well, you’ll be seeing a lot of new things firsthand,” she giggled. “Enjoy the sights all you’d like, but remember what we practiced.”

           It was a longer drive into town than usual, not because of traffic but from Dace’s near-constant inquiries. What kind of tree is this, what kind of animal is that, where do roads come from…it was always something. She thought it adorable at the start but it had become old thirty minutes in, and nerve-racking by the time they pulled into the city limits.

           “Dace, you need to be quiet starting now, understand?”

           He opened him mouth to answer but held his tongue and nodded, beaming. She believed he thought himself quite clever the way he answered while already doing as he was told.

           “Good. It’s still too early for our appointment, so I’m going to do some shopping first. I could take you into the store, but there would be a lot of people and a lot of new things. Do you think you would be good on your first time out or should you just wait in the car?” Morgan knew that she was speaking to him as she would a child, but from how much life experience he had, it was necessary condescension.

           Dace looked out the window and saw all the different vehicles milling about and the pedestrians that dotted the sidewalks. Rubbing his tail through the blanket he shook his head. “You want…to be careful?”

           “That’s right.”

           “I’ll stay,” he stated, visibly crestfallen. “But I can come another time?”

           “Sure, sweetie,” she smiled, rubbing the top of his head. “Tell you what, next time we’ll go shopping in that small town we passed on our way here; it’d be good practice to start somewhere small.”

           His wide, innocent smile came back to his face and he nodded. “Okay!”

           Leaving the keys in the ignition but taking the keychain, she kept the AC on low, turned the radio on for him, and showed him how to use it. “Just push these buttons to go through the stations. It’s like a TV, but without video, okay?”

           Dace’s reply was rushed as he was already absorbed by the new device and enjoyed the many sounds.

           “I’ll be back in a bit, don’t let anyone into the car besides me, don’t roll down the windows, and don’t talk to anyone. See you soon.”

           Locking the doors with her keychain, Morgan grabbed a cart and made her way inside. Knowing she had quite the length of time to wait out before heading over to Ryan’s lab, she casually moved along, taking her time to see everything she could possibly want, even picking out a few new DVDs in the electronics department. Once she had bought everything she needed or wanted Morgan made her way back to the car, casually walking through the rather crowded parking lot.

            Using her keychain to unlock the door, she slid back into the driver’s seat, surprised to hear him listening to the news over any music, and apparently oblivious to her return.

           “Anything interesting happening?” she asked, snapping him out of his trance.

           “Yes!” he shouted, jumping in place with his breathing elevated. “I, yes, so many things are happening,” Dace explained, slowly calming down. “How can there be so much?”

           Morgan laughed. “I guess I’ll have to introduce you to geography, it’s a big world out there, and whatever you’ve been listening to doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

           His eyes sparkled at this news. “How big is it? Like…another place like this?”

           “You are so cute,” she teased, unable to stop her laughter. “Let’s put it this way. Where we live is a ‘house’, if you get together a lot of houses, you get a ‘village’ – like what we passed through on our way here – and with even more houses it’s a ‘town’. A really big town is called a ‘city’.”

           Dace nodded in what she assumed was comprehension but didn’t make a sound.

           “So far you’ve only seen a small part of this town. Beyond cities you have states, provinces, countries, continents…all of which make this place look as small as my house.”

           By the end of her childlike explanation, his jaw was slack and eyes practically popping out of his head. “Small?”

           “You got it. Now…we’ve still got some time to kill before our appointment; what say we get some ice cream?” Morgan smiled, gently moving some of Dace’s long teal hair behind his ear.

           The remaining hours were spent lazily in the car, with Morgan showing him what few points of interest she could display from inside the vehicle. When it finally came time for their appearance at the lab, she pulled into the small parking lot and found a space. Fetching the folding wheelchair from the trunk, she helped get him settled in before pushing him over to the door.

           The receptionist looked up from his computer screen and then back to his game of solitaire as the two entered, doing no more to acknowledge their presence until Morgan approached the desk. “Macleod; we have an appointment.”

           The man silently verified her claim and picked up the phone. “Have a seat, Dr. Andrews would be with you shortly.”

           Dace looked about in wonderment, this being the first structure he’d ever been inside after Morgan’s house. At first she was worried this would attract undue attention but when she noticed the receptionist seemed unfazed by his behavior, she rationalized that most people would have never visited a laboratory.

           A few minutes after the man behind the desk completed his call Ryan came out through the security door and welcomed them. “Morgan, Dace, just sign in and we’ll get started right away,” he greeted warmly yet professionally, picking up the clipboard from behind the desk and handing it to the couple.

           Morgan signed for herself as usual but had to walk Dace through the process, taking note that she’d have to teach him how to write as well. Ryan chose to simply look away from the scrawl but the receptionist let out a stifled laugh, clamping his hand tightly over his mouth and beard.

           Guiding the two through the lab and to his office, Ryan locked his door behind them, giving them complete privacy. “Thank you for coming, I hope you don’t mind but the two of you will need to stay in here for a half-hour before we can start the tests.”

           “Everyone is still leaving tonight?” Morgan asked, folding her hands over her lap.

           The scientist double-checked the schedule and nodded. “Everything is still in order; we can do everything tonight and never have to worry about risking this again. In the meantime, Dace, I’ll explain to you everything that I’ll be testing and how. If either you or M&M doesn’t want me to go through with a procedure, we…can cut it from the schedule.”

           His pause told Morgan a lot about how invested he was in the whole process; Ryan wasn’t one to doubt himself or hesitate, and that trait showed in his speech, at least when it came to a prepared dialogue. That he paused meant Ryan was hoping that not a single item would be removed from his agenda.

           For the next half hour Ryan explained to the pair every test in as much detail as he would with any other patient. Scans, x-rays, and samples of blood and semen, Dace was informed of them all, and though he voiced worries about having blood taken from him, the process was intriguing well beyond the weight of his concern.

           Ryan checked his watch before smiling and clapping his hands. “Most people should be gone by now. Let’s start with drawing the blood; we can keep him in the chair for it and, Dace, it’s the worst of the tests.”

           The merman nodded, curious as to what it would feel like. Morgan had already assured him it would be much less painful than when he had been diced by her boat’s rotor, which was oddly successful at putting him at ease.

           As they made their way from Ryan’s office, he said his farewells to the women and men that were on their way out for the evening, leaving only the three of them plus the night janitor, who Ryan assured wouldn’t only be there for a little while longer herself.

           Collecting a sterilized needle and several plastic containers, the scientist took to labeling them before setting everything in place. Having Dace roll up a sleeve and finding a vein, after antithetic was applied Ryan had him look away as he pierced his skin and started filling the first capsule.

           Morgan let him know when he was allowed to look and Dace was astounded by how painless the process was, especially for how quickly the plastic tubes were filling.

           “Only felt a pinch, didn’t you?” Morgan asked.

           “Uh-huh! But how do you stop it?”

           “You’ll see, just three more to go,” Ryan answered as he casually exchanged one tube for another. Once all the needed blood had been drawn, he picked up a cotton ball and carefully pulled out the needle before he pressed the fluffy cotton against the small wound. “Hold that there until I tell you otherwise.”

           Morgan watched Dace puzzlingly hold the swab in place as Ryan stored the fresh blood and returned with a Band-Aid to put in place. “There you go; I’ll leave it up to Morgan to make sure you take it easy until it heals. Next we’ll do semen.”

           Dace stared up at the two humans with a blank expression. “What’s that?”

           His answer led Morgan to slap her forehead. “This is one time Varden would be easier to deal with,” she moaned.

           “Really? You didn’t teach him this yet?” Ryan asked.

           “Why are you surprised…?”

           “M&M, you have an attractive harem of men that are specifically tailored to one of your kinks; what else was I to think?”

           “You really thought I’d jump right into bed with them?” Morgan fumed, her face becoming flushed very quickly.

           “I wasn’t the one keeping them naked,” he countered with a perfectly level tone. “Tell me, with all the instruction you’ve given them, have you or have you not had fantasies best suited for teacher-student-themed pornography?” By the way she bit her lower lip and looked away Morgan told him all he needed to know. “Now then, did you want to tell him or shall I?”

           “I don’t want you making it sound so…clinical!”

           “Then go right ahead,” he offered, motioning to the silent and confused merman.

           As Dace looked up at her with his big innocent eyes, Morgan immediately wished she had had sided with cold and clinical over outright embarrassing. It took her three minutes to explain to him just what they needed from his body and another seven just to explain the process.

           The explanation was no easier on her with how easily he accepted the information, displaying not a trace of prudishness on the topic. His warm reception only flustered her further as she felt this was making him a little too eager to try it out and his questions about the act mad it even worse. Even Ryan couldn’t help but place a hand over his mouth to hide an impolite smile.

           “Hey, Ryan,” the janitor began, popping her head suddenly through the doorway. “I’ve finished cleaning the offices and halls; will you be using the labs tonight?”

           “More than likely, Cheryl.”

           “Gotcha, so…” she began, making it apparent that she wanted to hear something more.

           “You can leave early,” he confirmed.

           “Hey, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

           Ryan paid her departure no mind but Morgan had to rub her eyes. “That was the biggest risk in the plan? Someone who’s more than happy to leave work early?”

           “I don’t like taking risks, you know that, M&M,” he smiled. “Besides, one way to keep secrets it to have people who don’t care about what’s going on.”

           Before Morgan could comment, Dace asked about getting on with the next test.

           “You can use the washroom, I’ll bring you everything you may need,” the scientist assured him, I’ll meet you there.”

 

           The ensuing hour was, for Morgan, the worst part of the evening. Dace would frequently call to her with questions and astonished revelations, and each time she had to humor him. Every time she stepped back inside the washroom she had to find a way to tactfully handle the situation to prevent both Dace from developing a complex and herself from acting inappropriately in public.

           Each and every time it happened, it meant the procedure would take all the longer.

           “You know, M&M…” Ryan began as he waited out in the hall, straightening his tie for the sixth time since the blood work.

           “Don’t say it…” she mumbled.

           “Speaking frankly, it would be a lot faster if you—”

           “No.”

           “I know you’re—”

           Morgan quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Put that in the vault, too.”

           “Put what in ‘the vault’?” Dace asked, pulling himself out of the bathroom.

           When her ex cast a look at her eyes, she made sure her expression made her opinion perfectly clear. “You’ll find out one day,” he answered bluntly. “Where did you put the….”

           “On the floor. Can you help me into my chair?” Dace asked, the latter part of his speech directed towards Morgan.

           The rest of the evening was spent running the gamut of tests, of which Ryan helped speed up by saving the results for inspection at a later date rather than combing through the information as it came in. Yet it was long after dusk when they were finally finished.

           Despite the long, exciting day, Dace was still wound up as he was wheeled out to the car, but Morgan was sure that he’d crash once the long drive home began. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, Ryan assured her that he’d tell her all of the findings and hide their tracks. Thanking him but also warning him for good measure to keep everything quiet, Morgan started out for the long quiet drive home.

 

           Their studies had been completely neglected. The computer was left unused all day long; by Kiyi because a magic box such as that didn’t hold his interest and Varden because he couldn’t use its wondrous Internet without having Morgan fix it for him.

           Shirking their responsibilities, Kiyi spent the day on his impish studies, opening every door, cabinet, and container he came across, trying to find things he could tinker with or use self-servingly. Any device he found that he could take apart with his bare hands was soon in pieces on the floor, with him poking at the components.

           Once the parts had been inspected and prodded, he would reassemble the device to the best of his abilities, leaving out one part to see if it would still work – and how well. When it didn’t he’d try it without a different piece, and when it did – which was hardly ever – he would continue removing pieces until it stopped working. Only after his curiosity was satiated with one device would he put it back together with all its pieces intact and crawl over to the next item.

           Varden’s mischief began much more subdued than his brother’s, simply going through the shelves in the kitchen and sampling each and every spice or seasoning she had. After that he took to nibbling on the foods in her fridge, learning quickly to avoid biting into eggs. Once his teeth had left impressions in all the food in the fridge,

           The focus of his curiosity then shifted back to his earlier ways, bringing him to Morgan’s bedchambers. He rifled through her drawers, disappointed whenever he’d find socks and casual clothes, but developing an idiotic grin when he discovered her dainties. Looking through her assortment of panties and braziers, he decided upon a favorite of each – though not a matching set.

           Kiyi, finally reaching Morgan’s room in his exploration as well, spotted his brother’s perplexing behavior. Whistling and clicking at him in their native tongue, he asked why he was doing such a pointless activity.

           Holding the underwear tightly to his chest, as though his brother would snatch them away, he answered in what would have been a smarmy tone that is was Kiyi’s priorities that were all screwed up. Without paying attention to the high-pitched, and rather rude, clicks his older brother sent his way, Varden was quick to hide his newfound treasures in his room, playing it safe by hiding them under Dace’s mattress.

           Once he was confident in their hiding place, the youngest of the brothers made his way back to Morgan’s room to further explore only to find his sibling already rummaging through the sizable closet he had his eyes on. Kiyi was busy delving through boxes of little more than junk, seasonal wear, and photo albums, with nothing but outfits on hangers overhead. That is, until Varden slid further away and craned his neck, spotting a curious cardboard box tucked away on the top shelf, barely visible from where he lay.

           Believing it to be something special, it didn’t take long before he alerted Kiyi of the find. The two then began brainstorming some way in which they could reach something so far above them. Well before an idea had formed – and even longer before they could hope to implement it – the two heard the sound of Morgan’s metal box outside and quickly cleaned up after themselves; Kiyi, out of fear of being discovered, and Varden, out of fear of another unpleasant thumping.

           Unaware of how much time they had before their entry, only just how late it was, the two scurried off to their respective beds, with an act of sleeping quickly giving way to genuine exhaustion.

 

           The front door quietly swung open as Morgan led a drowsy merman inside. As she had expected, Dace had fallen asleep on the drive home, and was barely lucid enough to crawl to the house. Guiding him to his bed, she tucked him in and gave him a peck on the forehead, wondering if he’d even remember how he got to bed. Stumbling around in the dark, Morgan made her way to her own room and let herself fall to the mattress, falling asleep without changing or sliding under the covers.

7: Chapter 7 - The Other Woman

            Days went by and Morgan never did learn of the brothers’ intrusion. The most she had discovered was upon opening the fridge the following morning to find teeth marks far too large to be explained by mice. For once the wannabe chef was not placed on the receiving end of a blow; instead he received only a scolding and told not to do so again. Ever after a week the missing undergarments were never realized, though she did notice a strange bounce in pervert’s crawl, one which she could never quite explain.

           Every day Morgan waited for news of the tests, feeling more tense now that they had gone through with them than back during the preparation for their little covert operation. When the phone finally rang, her heart seemed to leap up into her throat. In her mind, there were only two possibilities; it was Ryan announcing that he had the results or warning her to flee because of the secret getting out.

           Doing her best to calm her nerves, Morgan took a deep breath and picked up the cordless and answered.

           “M&M? Hi Hon, it’s me!”

           A woman’s voice. She let out a long sigh and her shoulders slumped, all the tension melting from her body. “Oh, it’s just you….”

           “Charming.”

           “Sorry Jessica, I was expecting a call from Ryan.”

           A sudden assuming laugh pierced the author’s ear. “Old flames burning anew, are they? Tell me all about it when I come.”

           “Old fla…no!” she shrieked, turning a light shade of pink. “It’s research! Wait…when you come?”

           “Three weeks, I’ll need you to put me up for the night, too. Hope you don’t mind; we can have some fun.”

           “What? Why?” she asked, carrying her phone over to the balcony. Checking the calendar hung on the wall next to her computer, her face drooped. “Oh.”

           “Yup, I’ll be by to pick up the story and have you sign for everything. You know how I like being hands on,” Jessica giggled.

           “Yeah I do,” she replied in good humor before muttering under her breath: “And that could be a problem.”

           “Come again, Hon? I didn’t catch that last part.”

           “Breakfast is ready!” Varden called, placing a plate stacked high with waffles on the sill between the kitchen and living room. The scent of cheese and ham wafted through the air – two extra ingredients he had added to the batter.

           “Who was that?” her editor asked excitedly. “He sounds cute! Is he hot? And he cooks?”

           Morgan wanted to dash her hopes right away with false claims of a nauseating appearance but held her tongue. Not only did she know that everything would be unraveled upon her editor and friend’s arrival, but Morgan found herself unable to bring herself to slander his appearance. As unwelcome as some of his behavior was, so long as he kept his thoughts and hands to himself, he was a nice piece of eye candy.

           His body was that of an Olympic swimmer; toned and seemingly devoid of fat, slender yet strong, with definition that was apparent but not so great that it detracted from his beauty. Varden’s eyes were a pair of sparkling turquoise jewels, complimented by long silken aquamarine hair; it had improved from the tangled mess it was on his arrival thanks to her hair products and proper grooming.

           “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Morgan answered honestly. “And yeah, he’s fairly new but getting better.”

           “I can’t wait!” Jessica exclaimed before hanging up.

           Rubbing her eyes as she set down the phone, Morgan forgot her worries about Ryan leaking his research, replacing them with fears of what would happen when she arrived. Worse yet, having her find out that there were three attractive men living with her; even ignoring their species.

           Taking a deep breath to relax, even those worries faded as she moved to sink her teeth into that appetizing breakfast.

           Her boys soon gathered around the table, hungrily devouring the meal. No matter how nice his cooking was, his elder brothers seemed concerned with nothing more than getting it in their bellies as fast as possible before crawling away to their respective interests – Kiyi to do who knows what and Dace to continue reading a famous series about short people and a ring.

           As Varden calmly and slowly enjoyed his own cuisine, Morgan couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Reaching across the small table, she rubbed his head. “It tastes great.”

           He smiled back as he chewed, nodding in agreement.

           “Tell you what, how about I make a grocery run and pick up whatever you need for a recipe; what would you like to make for dinner?”

           Varden, with a fork halfway in his mouth, suddenly froze, his mind clearly at work. Setting the utensil back down on his plate with a faint clatter, he began rubbing his right thumb against the index and middle finger of the same hand. “Lobster or….”

           Waiting for him to finish making his decision, she prayed that his second choice would be more common; not that she couldn’t easily afford it, but she had an ulterior motive to the grocery run – fulfilling her promise with Dace. And the market in the nearest town was not the best place to find gourmet meals.

           His thumb started rubbing his two fingers faster. “What was it…onion soup…?” Varden suddenly snapped his fingers loudly. “French Onion soup!”

           Laughing, she gave his head another rub. “Let’s have that. We can have lobster another time; next time we have a visitor.” She had a vague recollection of the meal in question, and upon looking it up in the cookbook she had given him, Morgan was reassured by its simplicity.

           Onions, flour, beef soup base, pepper, and butter. Simple ingredients she could find anywhere. “Will you and Kiyi be fine alone for a couple of hours?”

            The youngest brother’s face seemed to brighten right before her very eyes as he nodded enthusiastically, something she believed was over his excitement of being able to try something new.

           “See you soon, then.” Taking her cleared plate to the sink and leaving it for Varden to clean later. She then called for Dace and begrudgingly told him to get dressed.

           Initially he was none to thrilled to get back into the heavy, scratchy, and unnecessarily hot hood that he had worn once before, but when he heard that they’d be going to the store, he moved like an energetic kitten. Sliding like an eel through water, Dace managed to reach the car before Morgan, despite his disadvantaged mobility.

           Varden closed the door behind the two and called for his brother, who was almost wholly indifferent to their departure; he had already had his fun disassembling the items in the author’s room the time before. Clicking and whistling furiously at him, Kiyi remembered the one thing that had eluded the pair: that mysterious box. Their imaginations ran wild with what could be inside, the contents becoming increasingly fantastical with every passing minute.

           Now it was a matter of the two figuring out just how to reach it.

 

           Dace was habituated well enough to the surface world to not bother the driver too much, only asking the occasional question when something new was visible or asking for a reminder of what few things he had forgotten.

           When the homes at the edge of town became visible to them, Morgan asked him to recite the rules of his coming with her. Only after he listed them all off flawlessly did she tell him exactly what they’d be doing inside. It was his responsibility to hold on to the items as they found them and he could even help by trying to spot the products as he was wheeled about. But, and she stressed the last two rules more than she hoped necessary, he had to keep his hands off anything else and that he must make certain to neither open nor eat anything.

           As she pushed him through the tiny grocery, Morgan was relieved that there were so few people in the store along with her. Besides the grocer, there was an elderly couple – she could swear they were her closest neighbors – a young woman, and father and son wandering the shop. With so many people around, in comparison to what he was accustomed to, she could tell that Dace was becoming restless. It was one thing for him to see them through the car window at a distance, and another entirely to be in the same room, not twenty feet away.

           Passing the elderly couple, she bowed her head politely in greeting, just in case they were the neighbors, and made her way towards the produce section. Filling a bag with onions, she gave it to Dace to keep on his lap, whose nose wrinkled at the smell.

           “He wants to cook with this?” he asked in a low voice, staring up at her from his chair, nose crinkled.

           “Yes he does, don’t worry, you’ll like it.” As Morgan went through the store trying to find the beef soup base, she grabbed some extra bread and cheese.

           Just her luck, she had to wait in line as the young woman paid for her groceries then answered questions on Dace’s behalf when she started asking which brand of hair dye he had used. After paying for her things, she made a beeline for her car and got Dace tucked away inside.

           “What’d you think?” she asked, fastening her seatbelt.

           “So many people!” he exclaimed, bouncing in this seat.

           Morgan laughed and rubbed her eyes. “So many? Sweetie, Thanksgiving dinners have more people than that. But it’s a good thing; you want to get used to things slowly.”

           “Now we go home?” Dace asked, looking over his shoulder to the groceries in the back. “To eat…that?”

           “Come on now, your brother is a good cook; it will taste just fine.”

 

           With three chairs and a little ingenuity, the brothers were able to get up to the box and pull it down from the shelf. Before they could even hope to catch a glimpse of the wondrous treasures inside, their triumph was dashed by the sound of that accursed metal box meant their time alone had come to an end. Carefully putting the mysterious container back in its place, the two moved the chairs back to the living room. Next time….

 

           That evening there was the heavy scent of onions wafting through the house. Morgan didn’t mind because she knew what would come of it. The chef loved it, breathing deep even as tears rolled down his face, wanting to catch every taste and smell as the recipe went from start to finish. His brothers were less than pleased with the smell, both retreating to the far corners of the guest room and opening the windows to keep the stench away.

           When it came time for dinner, Morgan had to coax the two brothers into the kitchen with a trail of Skittles and then promise a double feature if they emptied their bowls.

           They were confused by the meal. Both of them knew that there were those foul smelling vegetables present in spades, but a thick meaty scent was all that wafted from the soup. On top of it were small cubes of toasted bread with grated cheese melted over top of it. Varden was already in process of eating, enjoying his creation immensely.

           “Go on, it turned out perfectly,” Morgan insisted, already halfway through her first bowl.

           Dace and Kiyi hesitantly prodded the meal with their spoons, wondering whether a double feature was really worth it. It was Kiyi who first sampled it and froze after the first spoonful passed his lips.

           “Come on, you two, you’re being rude,” she chastised. Setting down her spoon, Morgan waited for the two to each swallow a mouthful each. There was no doubt that the two were tense and pessimistic about the meal. After they got started, there were no more complaints, with the two eventually draining their bowls.

           Kiyi was the first to leave his seat and brought his bowl to the sink. Everyone else that followed had a second bowl, with Morgan having a third and Varden enjoying it to much as to have a fourth.

           Even with how much had been consumed, there was still leftovers that Varden was quick to claim as his own, and would have succeeded had Morgan not insisted that it be used for tomorrow’s lunch.

           Having her promise to fulfill, Morgan found a pair of somewhat related films to show the boys. Both movies were cheesy horror parodies featuring the same snarky hostess, known for her ample bosom and plunging neckline.

           Morgan always enjoyed the movies and was glad to see her harem laugh along with her, albeit for different reasons. Dace giggled at the wordplay and double-entendres, having picked them up from the many stories he had read. Kiyi laughed at the special effects. As for Varden, his eyes were frequently glued to the set and Morgan had to slap his hand way from his lap on more than one occasion.

           By the end of the second film, everyone had grown tired enough from laughing to crawl off to bed, Morgan happily falling asleep. Having an uneventful trip to the market with Dace, a delicious meal in her belly, and the fun of seeing a couple of entertaining movies, all of her problems had just melted away. At least for the night, she wasn’t going to worry about her men being discovered or her friend coming to visit.

 

           Time passed in a blink of an eye for Morgan, leaving her only two days before her publisher and friend arrives. Her trio of eye-candy was unconcerned with her inevitable arrival, or more accurately they were looking forward to meeting with another human. With how routine life was around the cottage, Morgan couldn’t very well blame them, but was concerned nonetheless.

           Dace spent his time reading the last of the books the author had in her small personal library, very close to reaching the collection of her own works. Pretty soon, she realized, she’d need to start finding books online for him to enjoy. His pacing was almost a full novel each day; a rate that had made buying or even visiting the library uneconomical.

           She had finally acknowledged the middle brother’s love of how things worked and found him a number of e-books about engineering, wiring, and plumbing. As his knowledge of the subject grew, Morgan took to finding books explaining how to make various machines and devices. The more Kiyi absorbed, the more she wondered if he could be put to work as a handyman.

           Lastly, Varden continued to cook, but often seemed to stare off into space, like he was distracted. Rather, that he was waiting for something. Morgan couldn’t for the life of her think what it could be. She never mentioned that her friend was a woman so it wasn’t for that purpose, and he still had a number of untested recipes so Varden wasn’t left wanting. Whatever it was that was on his mind, she hoped it wouldn’t become a problem.

           Being so close to Jessica’s arrival, she felt it as good a time as any to make the long trip into town and buy her supplies, including enough lobsters for the five of them. After grabbing her purse and keys, the phone rang. Hurrying for the kitchen she prayed it was a cancellation on her friend’s part but was instead greeted by the voice of her ex.

           “Hello, Morgan?” He sounded exhausted and listless.

           “Speaking…is everything alright?”

           “I wanted to­—” his voice suddenly lowered as thought the phone had been moved away and she could hear him coughing. “Sorry, I’ve been working too many late shifts. I wanted to let you know that I’m slowly making progress. Everything is handled at night so I…” a yawn, “…just do what I can. I can tell you already he’s B negative and certainly not sterile.”

           The last part of his comments brought a blush to her face. “Also, his injury seems to be healing well – no internal damage – so you won’t have to worry about it coming back to haunt you.”

           “That’s great. Has anyone…you know….”

           “Oh, yes, of course. The security feed is free of anything embarrassing. There had been a couple questions asked about all the tests that we performed, but what with your friend being a hypochondriac….”

           Morgan laughed. He was acting like someone from a cheap spy movie, avoiding saying anything that could be overheard or recorded. “Thank you; I owe you one.”

           “I just thought you should know. Time to get back to work; take care M&M.”

           Before he finished hanging up she caught another yawn and smiled. She had no doubts that the only thing he was sacrificing for this secret project was his sleep; heaven forbid he decrease his workload or even take a break from exercising.

           Making her way back to the door, she called to the boys to behave while she was gone. Not that she had anything to worry about; they were well-adjusted enough by now to handle a day on their own.

 

           When Morgan had closed the door behind her, a smile crept across Varden’s face and Kiyi was already crawling from his manuals on the computer to the dining table to gather the chairs. The chef peered out the kitchen window and watched for her departure, waiting a couple of extra minutes to make sure she wouldn’t come back unexpectedly.

           Rushing from the kitchen, Varden helped his cunning older brother transport the chairs to Morgan’s room. With so much action in such a small home, it wasn’t long before Dace set down his book and followed them.

           “What are you doing?” he asked, watching them bring the chairs into the forbidden bedroom.

           “We found a box!” Varden answered excitedly. “Now we can finally see what’s inside!”

           “Box?” he asked, his tail moving to and fro in anticipation. “Filled with books? Oh! Those colorful candies?”

           The family of brothers each stopped to let out a dreamy sigh as they considered the possibility of the container being filled entirely with those sugary sweet treats. Clearing their heads, Varden helped Kiyi stack the chairs as they had before and the elder of the two made his way up, leaving Dace and Varden to stare up at him as he reached for the box.

           His hands brushed against its corners when he felt the structure below his tail collapse from leaning just a little too far. Thrashing about as he fell, he hit the shag carpet with a dull thud with a painful belly flop; the impact blasting the air from his lungs and leaving his front a stinging shade of pink. He was grateful, at least, that none of the chairs had been where he had landed.

           “Put it closer,” Kiyi instructed, unwilling to give up on this discovery.

           Once again the structure was assembled, only this time almost in line with the wall – there would be little to no leaning required. “Varden, you get the box. Me and Dace will hold it steady.”

           “Dace and I,” his elder corrected, not that he paid it any mind.

           Varden was able to scale the structure without trouble and claim the box as his siblings held the chairs steady. It took the man a few seconds to decide against descending with the box in hand, ultimately passing it down.

           “Open it! Hurry!” Dace demanded, bouncing up and down.

           Taking off the lid, the trio sighed dreamily as they found several bags of Skittles at the top of the box’s contents. Each of them shoved their hands inside, hoping to claim as many as possible for themselves, but after an extended period of scratching and slapping one-another with no clear victor in sight, they started to calm down.

           It was Kiyi who served as the mediator, saying that they ought to each just take one bag now and worry about what was left afterwards. His verdict did nothing to ease the hungry stares each of them cast upon the goods, but served to put an end to the quarrel.

           With the matter of the treats settled, it was time to look at the rest of their newfound treasure. Realizing it was filled with DVDs, Dace squealed with glee thinking of all the movies they could watch, but it was the youngest brother who reacted the most favorably.

           “We have to watch these!” the chef exclaimed, snatching the box away and hugging it tightly to his chest. “Now!”

 

           It had been a long drive to and from the city, but she didn’t mind. The car was loaded with enough supplies to last the four of them quite a while so she wouldn’t have to do it again any time soon, and without Dace’s questions she had able to relax, enjoy the scenery, and think about her writing. Morgan had been able to finish her tale of suspense, reviewing and altering it to her likings. Sure, there may have been a thing or two yet that she could find, but nothing that would leave her embarrassed when it hit the shelves.

           Parking the car on her lawn, Morgan popped the trunk and started gathering the frozen goods for the first trip. There was a smile on her face as she passed through the long uncut grass that made up her lawn – out in the countryside, she rarely found need to cut it. When she unlocked the front door and stepped through the entrance, she could make out sounds coming from the television.

           Her smile widened. Those mischievous men had snuck in a movie or two while she was away. Well no matter.

           As she pulled off her shoes, she tried to guess the film. When it dawned on her, the smile was stricken from her lips as joy turned to horror. Leaving the groceries at the entrance, Morgan burst into the living room, her worst fears confirmed. On the screen was a gorgeous man moving rhythmically – washboard abs, muscular arms, a good sense of timing, and not a stitch of clothing – in front of an audience of women who were each given the opportunity to ‘sample’ the performer.

           They had found her porn.

           On the floor there were enough DVD cases out of the box for her to know that they had looked at several of them already and not just the one that was on. Quickly turning off the TV, she turned to face the culprits and turned beet red – Dace certainly was the big brother, and putting into practice what he had learned at the lab.

           “What the hell are you three doing?” she screamed, pointing to the various lewd titles lying on the floor. “You went through my things? How did you even get this?” The brothers shrank into the couch, either ashamed or fearful, save for Kiyi who seemed disinterested in her lecture, as though he were above it all.

           Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. The only rationalizing she was willing to do on their behalf was that she had never explicitly forbade them from entering her room, only kept her door locked at night.

           “I don’t want any of you going through my things, understand?” Morgan managed to lower her voice from a shriek to a growl, hoping that it would get the point across without frightening them terribly. She continued to set some ground rules about her privacy as she collected her things and set the box down on the coffee table.

           When she was finished with her lecture, she picked up her sturdy dictionary – her Varden-whacking book – and had them come over one at a time. She started with the youngest, giving the man a disciplinary whap to the top of his head; taking care not to be abusive about it. Sentencing him to bed without dinner, she waited for him to leave before calling up the next one.

           Kiyi got a blow of his own, though she intentionally held back a little – it was his first offense and she had no doubts that the one that had been the most interested in her collection was Varden. He, too, was sent to his room – the bathtub – without dinner.

           The last to be punished was Dace, who approached, shivering slightly in face of his punishment. His fears only grew when she set down the book and looked about the room. There were clear signs that her movies had been enjoyed.

           “You are to clean this room until it’s spotless,” she sentenced, “And like your brothers I want you to go straight to bed without dinner.” Thinking it unfair were she to not use corporal punishment on Dace as well, she got behind him and gave him a single spank, chastising herself for adding a notable fondling to the act.

           Clearing her throat, she carried the box off to her room and locked the door behind her. Finding a hiding place for her movies didn’t seem like a priority at the moment and so she slumped to bed and breathed deep.

           That was embarrassing.

           She sat there, head in hand for several minutes, her light brown hair making a canopy around her face. Finally she remembered the groceries and put them away; not finding a more secure place for her movies until after dinner.

 

           When Morgan wearily pulled herself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen for her morning cup of coffee, she had yet to realize that her guest was scheduled to arrive that very day. Swatting Varden as he wiggled too and fro in an attempt to mimic the strippers from some of her private collection, sitting down and enjoying the freshly prepared cheese omelet and bacon breakfast were all that she cared about. Pulling her locks away from her eyes she considered going for a haircut, perhaps even trimming her men’s hair some time soon.

           Drawing in a deep breath as she chewed the last strip of bacon, Morgan was happy for her carefree—

           “Everyone, wake up and get your asses in here!” It finally hit her.

           Varden set the rest of the food on plates for himself and his brothers on the kitchen sill before sliding into the living room, soon followed by his brothers as they filed out of their respective rooms.

           Of the three, Dace was the only one who showed even a hint of anxiety about the loud demand for their presence.

           “My friend Jessica will be coming today and we need to set some ground rules,” she explained, folding her hands on the table. Hearing the eldest brother release a loud sigh of relief, she couldn’t help but get sidetracked. “Dace?”

           “I thought you were still mad….”

           “I…just don’t go through my things without permission. Now then, when she’s here—”

           “She? Is Jessica hot?” Varden asked, jumping in his seat with anticipation. “And does she put out?”

           “Put out?” the eldest asked, trying to recall the vernacular.

           “Never you mind,” she told Dace as her knuckles connected with Varden’s shoulder. “Unlike with Ryan, I don’t want her finding out that you’re mermen, so all of today and until she leaves tomorrow, the three of you will keep your tails wrapped up and aren’t allowed to crawl around. If you want to go anywhere, call me and I’ll move you with the wheelchair, alright?”

           Dace nodded in comprehension, content with the fact he wouldn’t have to attempt to move around in the chair on his own. Kiyi also agreed but voiced a willingness to move about in the chair on his own; his curiosity piqued by the notion of wheeled transport beyond the use of the platforms she had provided.

           “So if I have to go to the bathroom…” Varden inquired, obscuring the lower half of his face with one hand.

           “Call me and I’ll take you there,” she finished for him. When even his strategically placed hand failed to conceal his mirth, she gave the chef another blow to the shoulder.

           “Two more things: you’ll also all need to put on clothes while she’s here and change where you’ll be sleeping for the night.”

           There were various vocal complaints about those pieces of news. Kiyi loathed the idea of sleeping anywhere other than the tub, Varden didn’t like the idea of having to conceal any of his ‘sexy body’, and all voiced concerns on just where they’d be forced to sleep.

           “Two days, one night, you can put up with that much, alright? Kiyi, you’ll just have to share a bed with one of your brothers and Jessica can sleep on the couch.”

           “I am not sleeping with either of them,” the mischievous mechanic scowled. “If I am leaving my nice bed, I should at least have one to myself.”

           “I could give mine up if I got to share yours,” Varden cooed, leaning towards Morgan.

           Her knuckles whitened in preparation to strike him a third time when suddenly her muscles loosened and eyes softened as a light turned on in her mind. “That’s a good idea; Dace, you’ll stay with me tonight.”

           “W-what?” the youngest coughed, turning to face his brother. “How come he gets to?”

           “Because he has slept in my room before and didn’t try anything,” she replied sternly, deciding to omit the fact she had allowed him to satiate his curiosity about a woman’s anatomy that same night.

           Being the only one to have finished eating, Morgan went off on her own to pick clothes for the three to wear. As she rummaged through all the shirts she had received from Ryan, the author tried to pick clothing that best suited them. For the youngest she found a t-shirt with a beer logo on the chest complete with a silly slogan. A checkered dress shirt seemed appropriate for Kiyi, while Dace was once again given the unnecessarily heavy hood. She then found three sheets that could be used to wrap their tails.

           “Do I have to start wearing this already?” the eldest whined, staring at the heavy black cotton top.

           “You all do; I don’t know for sure when she’ll arrive so you have to put on this act from now until after she leaves,” Morgan insisted. As the brothers dressed, hiding everything save for their hair that distinguished them from ordinary humans, she felt her heart sink.

           Each of the brothers chose a place where they’d be willing to stay for a lengthy period so that she wouldn’t be stuck wheeling them around needlessly without their guest even being present. Kiyi read his textbooks on the computer while Dace read through the last of the ring trilogy and Varden studied how to properly prepare and serve lobster.

           It wasn’t until late afternoon that Morgan and the brothers’ reacted to the sound of an approaching engine, which the author recognized as belonging to her friend’s truck.

           “Okay, everyone behave for me,” she reminded them as she headed to the door, wanting to meet Jessica outside first.

           Opening the front door, Morgan stepped outside, the long grass tickling her bare feet, watching as her friend climbed out of her truck and approached.

           Jessica Ritzer was the only other friend she kept in contact with, and had since university. She had always been confident and extroverted, not letting people’s opinions deter her from doing what she wanted. Jessica’s long wavy black hair and sky blue eyes had earned her some notice with the men on campus, though she was always quick to argue that her natural curves deserved most of the credit.

           That she had found work at a publishing company was what led Morgan to bring her first works to that particular publisher and had since never looked elsewhere for a better deal. How big of a role Jessica had played in getting her stories being printed, she’d never know, and didn’t care.

           ‘Nepotism be damned,’ she thought to herself.

           “M&M!” she exclaimed as she got within arms reach. “Oh Hon, you’re looking great!” Jessica quickly pulled her into a friendly embrace.

           “You’re certainly dressed up for just an overnight visit,” Morgan noted with a knowing smile.

           At work Jessica always wore a pantsuit with her hair tied back, whereas during her visits she would relax in baggy jeans and seasonally-appropriate shirt. This time, she had instead decided to wear form-fitting - or rather form-accentuating – jeans with a sleeveless top with a cut more suited for college parties.

           “And you’ve been keeping a new ‘friend’ secret from me, for shame,” she replied. “I couldn’t let your new beau think I’m some dumpy tomboy, now could I?”

           “Of course not, let him think that after he sees how much you love boxing.”

           “It’s good to see you again,” Jessica smiled, slapping her playfully on the shoulder.

           Returning the gesture, Morgan led her inside but didn’t get past the doorway to the kitchen before her friend seized the back of her shirt and dragged her back outside.

           “H-hey, what?” the author sputtered and coughed, her throat sore from the unexpected and forceful pull.

           “You’ve been holding out on me!” Jessica accused. The look on her face was a mix between elation and annoyance, but which emotion was greater was beyond Morgan’s ken. “You haven’t gone and built yourself a little harem, have you?”

           Hearing that from anyone else would have left Morgan red as a tomato, but knowing her friend’s personality it only brought her to a noticeable shade of pink. “N-no, it’s­—”

           “I’m warning you, if you use a lie as weak as ‘they’re my relatives’, I’ll slap the cliché right out of you.”

           Her friend was too genre savvy for her own good, but Morgan took comfort in knowing that hadn’t been her intended reply. “They’re only a harem in my mind.”

           “Mine too, now,” Jessica nodded, glancing back inside through the door, though it only allowed her to see the back of Kiyi. “Any of them spoken for?”

           “What?” Morgan winced, knowing all too well where this was leading.

           “You – do you have dibs on any of them?”

           “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

           “No, no one meets my standards in my area,” she replied, looking away from the distant figure and back to Morgan.

           “And a passing look is all it takes? I didn’t think you were that shallow,” Morgan countered.

           “You yourself went on about how hot they are, and if you let them live with you they can’t be too bad. So spill it.”

           Grumbling, Morgan went with the one choice that would fit her plans the best. “His name is Dace; I’ll introduce you, but there’s something you should know about his brothers.”

           “They’re family?” Jessica asked, startled at first but quickly rationalized it under her breath.

           “Kiyi – the one you keep staring holes in – is more interested in machines than people, and Varden – the one who cooks – has all the tact of a drunken frat boy.”

           The editor let out a low whistle. “Hot, cooks, you let him live here, and he’s frisky?” Her lips pursed into a tight-lipped smile. “Interesting. But enough about the brothers, how far have you gone with yours?”

           Morgan refused to answer. “Not now, you can have your fun after business is taken care of, alright?”

           Smiling through her own grumbling, Jessica followed Morgan back inside. Varden winked at her as she walked by which only served to make her smile grow.

           “Have a seat on the couch next to Dace,” Morgan offered, pointing to the handsome man in the heavy hood.

           “Nice to meet you Dace,” she smiled, offering him her hand as she sat next to him. Feeling his enthusiastic shake and childlike grin, Jessica couldn’t help but laugh. “Friendly, aren’t you?”

           “He’s the oldest of his family. Over at the computer is Kiyi, the middle child.”

           Without looking away from the screen, the mechanically-inclined brother raised his right hand as a lazy wave.

           “Varden, the hottest,” the last brother called from the kitchen, raising himself to see the new woman through the sill.

           Jessica saw that one mouth some words that she was able to discern well enough to silently reply in a favorable fashion. “Nice to meet all of you, I hope you haven’t been giving M&M too much trouble.” Suddenly her expression became less warm and carefree as she opened her briefcase. “As always, I want a digital and hardcopy of your manuscript. Here is a flash drive for you to copy it to while I get out the documents you’ll need to sign.”

           This was a process Morgan had been through a number of times, enough for the sudden transition to be expected, but she still found it remarkable how the publisher could change to a business mindset so easily. Handing over a printed copy of her newest work, Morgan seized the computer for a minute to duplicate the file. For the following quarter-hour, Jessica went through the routine speech explaining just what Morgan would be agreeing to by signing and initializing a variety of documents, making the transaction finalized as well as getting her signed on for the next novel.

           “Any ideas for what you’ll be writing next?” Jessica asked, ensuring that everything was in order before tucking it away inside her briefcase.

           “I’ve made some notes,” the author nodded. “A fantasy romance.”

           “Stepping away from adventure, are you?”

           “Just for now. So, you feeling hungry? Varden will be putting on lobsters for us.”

8: Chapter 8 - When the Morning Comes

            The chef had to be careful with the preparation of the meal. It was a process he had little to compare it with, was forced to stay immobilized as the injured patient he was supposed to be, and knew he hadn’t a supply of ingredients that would allow for error. Taking it nice and slow paid off for him in the end, as the result was the most stunning meal he had ever prepared: each plate had a small cup of melted butter next to a finely boiled lobster, accompanied by rice and several pieces of asparagus topped with melted cheese.

           His brothers, as always, were unappreciative of the good food, though little noises they made implied their approval in spite of themselves. Though Morgan did give her compliments to the chef, Jessica was the most vocal in her appreciation. After she had sampled everything on the plate, she pleaded jokingly about letting her move in with them, making a point to mention a willingness to share a bed.

           “Don’t say that, you’ll encourage them,” Morgan warned, breaking off a piece of her lobster’s shell.

           “Fine, fine, so…I can’t help but notice you three all have your legs wrapped….”

           A sudden coughing fit from Morgan attracted everyone’s attention. “S-sorry, it went down wrong. Uh, yeah, they were in a car crash a little over a month ago and got some nasty breaks and fractures. They’re doing better but still not well enough to walk.

           “Is that so…?” the publisher asked, eying the brothers suspiciously. “Tell me the truth, Hon; you didn’t hobble them, did you?”

           “Jessica!”

           “It’s a joke; a joke,” she laughed, waving her hand.

           The author watched as her friend went back to her meal, still full of joy but she couldn’t help but feel the explanation hadn’t been bought.

           For the rest of the meal, Jessica asked about the histories of the brothers, wanting details such as where they were from, what they enjoyed, and – for Dace – how long they had been ‘together’. Much to Morgan’s dismay they answered for themselves, but her fears were unjustified when their simple answers sounded perfectly ordinary.

           Stating they were ‘from the lake’ was vague enough to be mistaken for the general area and their various hobbies all related to things that had done within the confines of the cottage. Dace had even missed the connotations of the final question and provided the simple measure of time since she had first injured him.

           “So tell me, how did you two first meet?” Jessica asked, setting down her fork and leaning back in her chair.

           “He was swimming and I hit him with my boat,” Morgan winced. Telling the full account was out of the question but shortening it in such a way left her sounding criminally negligent or inconsiderate.

           But the woman simply roared with laughter. “That’ll make a great story for the kids! Let me help you with the dishes and we can do something fun!”

           “Thanks, what’d you have in mind?” Rising to her feet along with her friend, the two collected the dishes, leaving the brothers at the table.

           “Movie?” Kiyi suggested hopefully.

           “Works for me; say do you have Young Frankenstein? I haven’t seen that one in ages,” the black-haired beauty inquired.

           “I bought it after your last visit. Best of all, the boys haven’t seen it yet.”

           The two working together were able to clean Varden’s mess without too much trouble and the five were soon watching the comedy. At the end, the night was still young and everyone was asking for more. Kiyi wanted science fiction, Dace wanted comedy, and Varden wanted something hot.

           “How about you break out the other collection?” Jessica suggested, nudging the hostess’ shoulder.

           “Not on your life,” she laughed, slapping her hand away. “I’ll put in Space Balls then we’re calling it a night.”

           Jessica and Varden grumbled in tandem but soon gave in when they settled for the mindless parody. When the movie had finished it still wasn’t terribly late but Morgan insisted on turning in nonetheless, taking the wheelchair and carting the men off to their respective beds before returning with sheets for the couch.

           The guest decided to spend a couple of hours reading through the manuscript, curious as to what her friend’s newest work was like. Long after the sun had set and the stars started twinkling over the lake, she set the papers back in her briefcase and stretched out on the makeshift bed.

           A couple minutes after turning off the light and resting her head on her pillow, Jessica’s eyes opened as she distinctly heard someone crawling across the floor. The fact she had been reading a horror story mere moments ago, it was only natural that her heart started racing. When a vague silhouette popped up beside her, it took everything she had to stifle a scream.

           “Varden?” she whispered, making out his perfect features despite the low light.

           “Didn’t think you wanted to sleep alone,” he purred.

           “Confident, aren’t you? What makes you think I’m interested?”

           He shrugged.

           “You’ve got me there, but what about your legs?”

           This time he looked over his shoulder, visibly nervous even through the darkness. “You a snitch?”

           “Uh…no?”

           “I don’t have legs.”

           In a hushed voice, she laughed. “That’s a new one.”

           “Really, feel below my waist.”

           Another laugh. “Alright, I’d say that’s worth a feel.” Reaching out with a single hand, she slid her hand down along his muscled back, past his toned ass, and finally to the dolphin-textured flesh below. “Holy shit….”

           “Interested?” he pushed.

           Silence.

           “Well?”

           “Only if you can keep quieter than Morgan,” she replied, helping him up onto the couch.

           “Su-what?” he asked, dumbfounded.

           “We were roommates in university; I’ve heard her, now hurry up.”

           Whatever was going to be Morgan’s reaction in the morning, the two didn’t care, just focused on feeling the other’s warmth for the next little while.

 

           When morning came, Morgan smiled to herself as she felt the warmth of another body cuddled up next to her, Dace’s head resting on her right shoulder, his hot breath on her neck. What she wouldn’t give to enjoy this every morning for as long as she wanted; no cares, no worries, just the comfort of having someone close, both physically and emotionally. Not since she had still been with Ryan had she felt this way.

           Letting out a longing sigh, she gently turned her head to look at him, sleeping soundly. He had been a doll, letting her sleep without trying to molest her and staying silent – no midnight inquiries as she had expected.

           With another sigh, one demonstrating how at ease she felt, Morgan carefully moved away from him, doing her best not to rouse him from his slumber. Had it not been for her guest, she would have stayed there for hours, but, alas, she had to play the role of a host.

           Pulling on her housecoat and slippers, Morgan shuffled out of her room, leaving the merman to sleep the morning away. When she turned away from closing the doors to her room to face the living room couch, all of her efforts at stealth were immediately for naught.

           “What the hell is this!” she screamed, loud enough to give everyone in the cottage a start.

           Dace thrashed around wildly under the covers, Jessica and Varden fell off the couch, and Kiyi, still in one of the guestroom beds, opened one tired eye as his hands found his ears to blot out any further noise.

           That the two of them had been on the couch together already did not bode well for Morgan, but when they tumbled to the floor she could clearly see that they were both decidedly indecent. Varden flopped around ineffectively, unaccustomed to such rushed awakenings, while Jessica quickly gained her composure and drew her blanket around herself, guarding whatever modesty she had left.

           “Damn it, Varden! What the hell did you do?” Morgan’s face was turning a deep shade of red as her anger built.

           “M&M, calm down, I consented,” Jessica explained, fishing her underwear off the floor.

           Staring daggers at her friend, Morgan’s next words were dripping with venom. “How nice that you decided to screw him on my couch; couldn’t even be bothered to hide it, could you?”

           “Funny thing you should mention hiding things,” Jessica shot back, immediately wincing at the realization of her own hasty retort.

           “Yeah, sure, you come into my home, spend the night flirting with the men that are living with me, have a one-night-stand with one, and then bitch about what you find from doing what you had no god-damned business getting into?” Morgan glared, feeling her temples throbbing with rage.

           “I’m sorry, really,” Jessica reeled. “I won’t tell a soul, promise!”

           That helped; in that Morgan no longer felt like dumping a body in the lake. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone….”

           “I’m sure you have enough ‘mementos’ from University to ruin me,” Jessica joked, hoping to hasten Morgan’s return to a pleasant mood. “And if it’s any consolation, I’ve had a lot better.”

           Varden held his head in his hands as he once again heard her critique of his techniques; she had been none too complimentary during, but now that the comments were no longer private, it made it all the worse for his currently frail ego.

           Morgan tried to maintain an angry glare, but not ten seconds after the revelation all pretense of anger had given way to peals of laughter. “You’re kidding! After all the grandstanding and bluster, he’s a dud? Nicely done, Varden,” she roared, gasping for air.

           “Come on, save it for after he’s left the room, at least,” Jessica replied with a smile, waving to the chef as to shoo him away. “We cool?”

           Working on catching her breath, Morgan nodded. “As long as you keep it under your hat…and don’t try this with the other two.”

           “It’s a promise…but I have to know: just how did you find them?”

           For the remainder of the morning, Jessica pestered her with questions, wanting to know every detail of their discovery. Never having been one to care for the science of things, the publisher didn’t ask for any details that would have required Ryan’s presence to answer, focusing on mostly how they came to live with her, how she went about raising them, and any saucy details that came up along the way.

           By late morning, after a lackluster breakfast of cereal provided by a cook who couldn’t muster the energy to prepare something more appetizing, Jessica collected her things and got ready to head out.

           “Thank you so much, Hon; I’m really sorry, but don’t worry. Keep in touch, okay?” She asked with a hopeful smile, reaching out for a handshake.

           “You too; don’t wait until the next novel to get together,” Morgan smiled softly, ignoring the offer for a handshake to claim a hug. “And let me know how it sells.”

           Getting into her car and starting the engine, Jessica gave one last parting wave out the driver’s side window before driving off down the country road.

           Standing outside for a few minutes, Morgan enjoyed the fresh air before returning to her boys. She found Varden laying on the couch, cookbook in hand, lazily turning the pages, and Dace sitting at the computer, staring intently at the screen as his hands moved slowly over the keyboard. Kiyi was still nowhere to be seen so she expected he was still in the guestroom.

           Morgan walked over to the couch, taking a chair with her as she passed the dining table, and had a seat next to Varden, sitting with the back of the chair facing him. “So, you went and embarrassed yourself, huh?”

           Without a word he glanced away from his book to her face then back to the material, a tinge of red coming to his cheeks and nose.

           “All that posturing and flirting, and then this; bet you wish you had just stayed in bed.”

           Closing the book but keeping it in his hands in the air over his face, he looked at her properly. “I don’t.”

           “What do you mean you don’t?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

           “It was…different. Good. Have her come more often,” the youngest of the mermen answered, returning his attention to the recipes.

           His refusal to participate in any further conversation, despite her attempts, left Morgan wanting for someone else with whom to talk. Seeing how focused Dace was, she decided to hunt down the last of the brothers.

           Kiyi was easy enough to find, lying on Dace’s bed, face buried in the pillow.

           “You doing alright?” she asked, walking over to sit on Varden’s bed. Hearing a muffled and mumbled response, she started to worry. “Are you sick?”

           Angling his head so that his mouth wasn’t covered, Kiyi sighed. “Bored….”

           “I see…I’m sure Dace would let you on the computer. Or I’d be willing to put on a movie.”

           He shook his head, rolling onto his back so that he could stare up at the ceiling, which proved to be of no greater entertainment than being face down. “I want to do something.”

           “Do something?”

           “You let Dace leave here with you, and Varden can cook and…whatever you were yelling about.”

           “I didn’t let him do that,” she corrected, but understood the meaning behind his words. “So you want something to do?”

           “Yes!” he cried out in frustration. “Take me to that guy’s place, a store, something!” His arms thrashed about as he pouted.

           Morgan wanted to do something for him, honestly she did, but the idea of bringing him to see Ryan without any major necessity was too risky. “I don’t’ think I can.”

           “Why not?” he snapped, sitting up and facing her at eye-level. “Did Dace need to leave the house?”

           “Of course, the whole point of visiting Ryan was to—”

           “So he got to go twice?” Kiyi frowned.

           “Well…no, the second time—”

           “Was not important?” he finished, surprising Morgan with his observations and reason.

           “Alright…” she frowned, accepting of the favoritism she had played. “I’ll phone Ryan – right away – and ask about stopping by. Will that do?”

           He nodded. “Yes. And I can sit still and use the wheelchair myself.”

           Patting him on the head, Morgan made her way to the kitchen sill and retrieved her phone, making the call to Ryan’s lab. The scientist was surprised to hear from her, especially so soon, and all the more so when she inquired about having a face-to-face discussion, with Kiyi coming along.

           “Yes…that should be fine; I won’t be running any tests so it’s not as though he’ll be in any risk of being exposed. I would even be willing to give him a tour through a few of the facilities,” Ryan offered. “Today is too late…would tomorrow work for you? I don’t have anything of immediate urgency, so any time would be fine, though earlier would be preferable this time.”

           “Sure…thanks; I have to visit the bank soon, anyways,” she replied, remembering the check she had been given. “See you tomorrow.”

           After hanging up, Morgan relayed the news to Kiyi, who finally perked up knowing that tomorrow would be, if nothing else, different.

           As day turned to night and daylight waned, the four sat down to a simple dinner of meatloaf before enjoying a science fiction film about aliens being trapped on Earth and living in a slum. The eldest brother was as enamored by the movie as he’d ever been and Kiyi got excited whenever the alien’s technology was described, but Varden seemed simply unaffected by the movie.

           By the end of the long film, everyone was ready to return to bed, with Kiyi asking for everyone to sleep as they had the night before. With no one objecting the request, Morgan found herself once more lying next to Dace in her bedroom, waiting to fall asleep.

           “Hey…Dace…is everything alright?” she asked, stretched out under the covers.

           “Yup,” he smiled. “Life is good.”

           Morgan laughed softly, rolling onto her left side, turning her back to him. “That’s good, but your brothers seem…unhappy? No, maybe just listless.”

           “They do?” the merman asked, taking a moment to ponder this notion. “Varden cooked and read his recipes, and Kiyi hung around. Isn’t that normal?”

           “Normally one explores and the other tries to feel me up.”

           “Kiyi ran out of things to look at?” he offered. “And Varden got to do what the people did in your special movies, right?”

           Thanking her foresight to turn away from him, as it hid her blush, she nodded. “I guess. Thanks Dace. Goodnight.”

           Rolling back to face the ceiling, Morgan enjoyed the softness of her mattress and the warmth of the covers as she slowly fell asleep, hoping that everything that had concerned her was nothing but an unpleasant trick of the mind.

 

           For the second morning in a row, Morgan found herself in the most agreeable position: in a warm bed with Dace cuddled up next to her. Also in line with what had happened a mere twenty-four hours prior, she wasn’t able to enjoy it, being bothered by the urgent knocking upon her door by a certain mechanically-inclined merman.

           Accepting the responsibility she had for transporting Kiyi to the laboratory, the author rolled out of bed, disrupting Dace’s sleep in doing so, and chose an outfit that would be suitable for the visit – a pair of brown jeans and a semi-casual blouse. Satisfied with her choice of clothes, Morgan finally opened her bedroom doors, putting an end to Kiyi’s incessant knocking, to find the brother had already dressed himself in preparation.

           Though his lower half was still bare – as it would have to be until he found his way into the wheelchair – Kiyi had selected a grass-green polo shirt on his own. “Good,” he huffed, to which she could only assume was in reference to her being awake and dressed. “Eat then we go.”

           “Calm down, we can visit any time,” she answered, casually moving to the kitchen to find some bread and ginger marmalade to enjoy.

           “Sooner is better than later,” he countered, crawling back into the guest room, only to return with a blanket suitable for covering his tail.

           If nothing else, he was certainly lively, Morgan thought. It came as a relief to find the funk she had believed him to be suffering was just a case of paranoia on her part. “Okay, fine; you and Ryan will probably talk so much I’d regret leaving any later.”

           The merman impatiently tapped – or slapped – his tail against the hardwood floors while she waited for her bread to toast and through her enjoyment of the simple meal.

           Licking her fingers clean, she grabbed her keys off the hanger next to the entrance before strolling to the washroom. “Just have a few things to do and we’ll leave, alright?”

           “See you by the car,” Kiyi grumbled, propping himself up on his tail to unlock the entrance before crawling out the door, blanket in tow.

 

           It was a long and mostly silent drive to town for Morgan. Unlike Dace, Kiyi had no interest in the flora and fauna of the world, nor was he impressed by the magnitude of thereof. At one point she turned on the radio and he froze up but upon glancing over at the various dials and knobs he let out a sign and continued to stare listlessly out the window.

           “Is something bothering you?” she asked, glancing over at him. He may have never been the most extroverted of the three, but he was never anti-social either.

           “How much longer?” he grumbled, choosing to ignore her inquiry.

           “Uh…less than an hour…bit more than half. What’s on your mind?”

           Kiyi continued to glower in silence before answering. “Varden gets to cook; all day long you let him try one thing after another. Dace reads one thing after another, and you’ve always got another story for him. I am bored! Only the real good stories are not boring and food is food! I want to do something!”

           “O-okay,” she stammered, unprepared for such an outburst. “What can I get you?”

           “Good question,” he sulked, turning back to the window, watching as each landmark disappeared in the distance.

           “You don’t like reading the textbooks?” Morgan was determined to press the issue, wanting to know what she could do to keep him happy.

           “Would you be happy thinking but never writing things out?” he countered.

           Truly surprised by his analogy, her mouth hung open for a while; there was nothing she could think to say to that. It wasn’t something Morgan had considered before now; every day was almost identical for her, but was made unique by her work. Dace was so overjoyed with every little story, both short and long, that he was never bored so long as he had a book in front of him. Even Kiyi had the recipes to experiment with.

           Kiyi had none of that. Though Morgan had hoped the textbooks would satiate his desire for knowledge, she now realized that it was not the desire to learn new things as his elder brother had, but to experiment like the younger. Thinking about it, she knew that Varden would have likely been the same way had she given him the cookbooks but never allowed him into the kitchen.

           “I’ll find something for you, promise.”

           “Really?” he asked, perking up; his sky blue eyes no longer dull and empty, but shimmering with hope.

           “Promise,” she repeated.

           The silent atmosphere returned with that until they reached the laboratory. Even then he only asked questions related to how to behave and requesting to use his own power to move the wheelchair about. Once inside the two had to go through the steps to be allowed to meet Ryan, with the receptionist snickering at Kiyi’s handwriting.

           “I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Ryan greeted, ushering them inside and down the hall to his office. “Pleasure to see you again, Kiyi,” he greeted cheerfully.

           Once they were all safe inside his office, Ryan locked the door as always before taking a seat at his desk. Kiyi craned his neck to look at the different decorations in the room; a degree hanging on the wall, a few paintings of scenery, a filled bookshelf, the heavy desk with a chair behind it, and a pair of chairs against one wall for visitors like them.

           “Alright, from everything I’ve tested, I gleaned some interesting details,” Ryan began. “From the waist up, I could have just as easily been experimenting on myself or any other human male for that matter, whereas the lower half…I needed to do some research but everything below his waist is a perfect – though smaller – portion of a dolphin. Well, barring certain precisely human component about his lower half.”

           Kiyi sat silently through the explanation, trying to understand and follow the conversation to the best of his ability. He didn’t really know much about how humans, or any living creature, worked, but understood the language well enough to get the gist of it.

           “The line dividing the two halves is remarkable, being utterly seamless from the interior, with no indication of where one starts and the other side begins. The brain, as far as I can see, is just about a match for a human’s; mind you, I don’t have the training or the means to properly assess the similarities and distinctions.” Ryan leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “If I were a neuroscientist, maybe then I could figure out just how you boys can learn so fast.”

           As the scientist continued to divulge the secrets revealed by the tests, the author asked questions every now and again while Kiyi listened in silence. As more and more results were explained, the merman became curious as well as impressed over how this information came to light in the first place.

           Taking a break from the medical aspect of their meeting, Ryan answered the man’s inquiries on the workings of the machines as best he could.

           Morgan watched with unspoken glee as the two men discussed mechanics. With how moody Kiyi had been since last night, she found it to be a great relief that he was finally smiling. The corners of his mouth seemed like they’d take in his ears and his eyes shone like the clearest of days.

           Crossing his hands on his desk, Ryan leaned forward and smiled. “Morgan, would you mind if we took a break so that I could show Kiyi around the lab?”

           “Not at all; that’s one of the reasons he came,” Morgan replied with a nod as she rose to her feet, straightening out her jeans as she did. “Reading textbooks isn’t much fun, after all.”

           “I might be able to help with that,” he replied thoughtfully, unlocking his office door and leading the wheelchair-bound guest through the laboratory. “I won’t be showing you everything, but I think you’ll enjoy yourself nonetheless.”

           Ryan’s prediction was spot on, for Morgan had never seen him more elated than while they were walking about. The first questions Kiyi had about the various pieces of equipment used throughout the lab were easily answered by either their host or whoever was currently in the room, but were soon hard-pressed to deal with the later questions when he started discussing precise components or functions of the machinery.

           Right up until they returned to his office did Ryan wear a calm expression; one which turned to a combination of embarrassment and genuine awe. “I bet some mechanics would have trouble answering everything you want to know.”

           “Mechanic?” Kiyi asked, reaching up and scratching one ear. “Could I be one?”

           “Well…maybe….” An uncommitted answer was the best he could offer one of the merman’s circumstances. “About the rest of the tests…there’s really only one more that you, Morgan, would be interested in. It concerns offspring….”

           A red hue crossed her face but slowly faded when she noticed Kiyi was listening with an indifferent air. While Dace may have been interested for the sake of knowledge and Varden for mention of copulation, Kiyi simply didn’t care when it was not mechanical.

           “Fortunately this is something I specialize in…or rather, you may be unhappy knowing this is accurate….” Having known Morgan so well, he knew she wouldn’t be happy with what he was going to tell her, but knew that he was obligated to tell her.

           “Go on,” she encouraged.

           “Well, genetically-speaking, mermen are similar enough to humans, same number of chromosomes, general DNA structure, and—”

           The longer he went on, the more Morgan knew she wasn’t going to get the news she had hoped for. “Out with it already; you don’t have to sugar-coat it.”

           Clearing his throat, Ryan obliged. “If a merman and human were to breed, the child would likely be sterile.”

           A heavy silence filled the air and the brown-haired author slumped back in her chair with a gentle sigh. “I’m not surprised, really. But…” she started, sitting up and straightening out, “…it’s not like I really wanted or expected kids in the first place. How could I explain that, anyways?”

           As she spoke Morgan aimed for a laugh but knew it would sound forced. Her words were the truth, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted the option.

           “Sorry, I could be wrong but hybrids are usually that way…uh, say, I might have something I could do for you, Kiyi. Wait here for a moment while I check.”

           The two watched as he rushed from the office without any explanation for several minutes before coming back with a laptop in hand.

           “Here, it’s a computer that stopped working the other day. I’ve already removed the hard drive – security reasons – so you’ll have to get a replacement, but you could have some fun trying to fix it.”

           “Really? Well, thanks but…”

           “I can fix it?” Kiyi asked excitedly, reaching out and taking it.

           “Sure. I did find out what’s wrong with it, and it’s nothing that makes it a complete brick, so if you work at it, you’ll have it up and running,” Ryan assured him. “If it weren’t an old model, I’d have fixed it myself instead of replacing it.”

           “Great, but I don’t exactly have anything for him to fix it with,” Morgan explained.

           “I know what tools I need,” Kiyi stated bluntly. “One of the textbooks told me.”

           The author laughed nervously. “Okay, great. We’ll buy them on our way home. Well, thank you for this, Ryan.”

           “No problem. Honestly, I’m glad you decided to come early this time,” he smiled, running a hand through his trim auburn hair.

           “Oh? Something come up this afternoon?” Morgan asked.

           “Yes and no; I have to take off early today and…well, you don’t need to worry about it. Here, I’ll walk you out.”

           There was that secretive side of him again, Morgan noted as he led them back to the entrance. Knowing him, it was some important client he had to meet. No matter, she heard everything she needed to know.

           Saying their farewells, Morgan brought Kiyi to the car and buckled him in, getting the list of necessary gadgets and tools before deciding it best just to bring him inside an electronics store to point them out on his own. Once he was satisfied with his newfound toys, she made the long trip home; the disappointment of having to spend so much money for a broken laptop easily overturned by the happiness Kiyi was now expressing, finally having a hobby of his own.

9: Chapter 9 - Farewell

From the moment they had come through the door, Kiyi was hopping about like a kitten after a dangling piece of string, wanting the laptop and tools now. As much as possible for fish, at least. With every hop his seaweed colored hair bounced and waved about, sometime slapping against her thigh in a wave of green.

            “Calm down or I’ll drop it,” she warned, gripping the computer tightly. “You’ll need a place you can work on it carefully.”

            “My bed?” he asked, still pawing at waist; he wanted the machine but that was as high as he could reach.

            “Is it clean?”

            Setting himself atop his board and propelling himself across the hardwood floors to the guest room he and Varden called home, he showed her that – unlike his brother – his bed was actually made. “Clean?”

            Morgan nodded in approval. “Clean.” Setting all of his things down in the middle of the bed, she watched as he pulled himself up and wrapped himself around the devices. Had his tail not ended in fins, she would have found it akin to a snake coiling around its eggs. “Be careful, it’s delicate.”

            With an overjoyed expression, Kiyi was already setting to work removing screws from the bottom of the laptop, setting them aside carefully as to not lose any. “I know, the books told me how to handle it.”

            Chuckling, she let him be, relieved that his funk has passed. After a quick glace at her watch she was surprised to find it only quarter-past three; if had felt like a much longer day than that.

            Moving to the living room, she found the boys in their usual places – Dace on the couch reading and Varden in the kitchen cooking. The youngest, too, seemed to be in a more cheerful mood.

            “Hey boys, anything happen while I was gone?” she greeted, taking a seat next to Dace.

            “I’m reading one of your books now,” Dace squeaked with a smile.

            The comment made her tilt her head so that she could read the title. It was one of the first stories she had put out – a fantasy – which she would turn to for inspiration whenever writer’s block impeded her progress. “Twelve Knights…how you liking it? It’s one of my best, I think…well, personal favorite, at least.”

            “I like it! Sir Jericho was just poisoned by the Rennaise emissary,” he explained.

            “Good, good. How about you?” she asked, shouting towards the kitchen.

            “Feeling better; I’m…sorry if I was a bit of a douche earlier,” he replied. She still pondered the circumstances of his prior encounters with humans. “I found some nice recipes: spaghetti carbonara for dinner and cheesecake for dessert.”

            Morgan covered her mouth out of fear of drooling; removing her hand only after she was confident it was safe. “Really? I love cheesecake, and it’s been too long since I had Italian food.”

            The merman chuckled. “Just like Jessica. Oh! She called earlier.”

            “She did?” Morgan asked, worried that something important had come up. “What’d she want?”

            “Nothing, just to talk,” he answered with a shrug, his hands busily mixing ingredients together for the dessert. “Uh…she did tell me to say we stopped talking ‘before too long’.”

             Morgan held her tongue, figuring that speaking to him was exactly what her friend had intended. As curious as she was about the exact details of their conversation, the author hand-waved the whole thing, noting that it made him happy without any real expense.

            “Hey, Morgan, what kinds of relationships are there?” Dace asked, still staring at the pages of the novel.

            Gently pulling her hair away from her hazel eyes, the author turned from the kitchen back to him. “What brought that on?”

            “This part, where Sir Leofrick is accused of having improper relations with his…sister?”

            “Oh, well…there are lots of them…familial, like what you and your brothers have, or where you think of someone as a family member,” she started, trying to think of as many as she could, then settling with the most simple of definitions. “There’s also platonic, which is where you like someone but not in a romantic way. One more is romantic, where it’s more than friendship.”

            “Oh!” Dace exclaimed. “So this one with his sister is ‘familial’ and…romantic?”

            “That’s what people are saying he has, and if they’re right it would ruin him. It would be like you fooling around with your brothers.” The ensuing retching that came from the kitchen brought a smile to Morgan’s lips. Leave it to the most hormonal of the three to offer colour commentary.

            “I get it now. Then…what do we have?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, his teal hair falling straight as it slid off his shoulders.

            A blush came to her cheeks as she looked at him, his innocent face filled with curiosity that shimmered in his topaz eyes. “Well…that would depend on how you felt.” She didn’t want to mislead him by her own personal fantasies, no matter how much she wanted them as reality.

            “I really, really like you,” Dace smiled, lunging forward for an embrace, his arms pinning hers to her body as he squeezed.

            “Me too,” she replied, moving her hands to his sides the best she could against how tightly he hugged. The top of his head nuzzled her cheek and, for once, having the naked merman so close to her invoked not erotic fantasies, but comforting warmth.

            Whether it was seconds or minutes into the embrace, she couldn’t tell, but the sudden clamor from the phone came too soon for her likings. Wiggling free from the hug, she quickly answered the phone, expecting it to be Jessica inadvertently ruining her moment. Hearing the voice on the other end, oh how she wished she had been right. Finding a piece of paper she took down what the woman was telling her and gave her thanks before hanging up.

            “I need to run to town again; I’ll try to be home before eleven,” she alerted the boys, taking the piece of paper and hurrying to the entrance.

            “What happened?” Dace and Varden shouted; the former getting off the couch to crawl to the entrance.

            “Ryan was in a collision; I’m driving over to the hospital to make sure he’s alright,” she explained, tying her shoes and snatching her keys off the wall. “I won’t be there all night, but I don’t know when I’ll be back, so take care of the house while I’m gone.

            As she rushed out the front door, the boys were left dumbfounded as to what had happened. While Morgan was scared as to just how bad of shape her ex was in, the pair was just as worried what all this meant. They watched as she started the engine and drove off the lot, speeding away.

Crawling back inside, Varden made his way back to the kitchen and considered phoning Jessica to let her know the news but wasn’t sure if this was something that would lead to a major beating for revealing. As little as he understood the situation, he could tell it was beyond what Morgan would let him joke about.

Dace crawled about the small cottage aimlessly for a while; informing Kiyi and watching him work on his new toy for a few minutes before heading back to the living room. There he crawled about with no real purpose, doing what would have been nervous pacing had he the legs. Finally, he grabbed his novel, headed for Morgan’s room, and curled up in bed to continue reading, trying to keep his mind occupied.

 

Having driven above the limit for most of the way there, Morgan had been able to shave a half-hour off her trip, but still found so much travel in one day exhausting. Inside the hospital she got Ryan’s room number and was relieved to learn that he was allowed to have visitors.

On the third floor in an as-of-yet unshared room, she found Ryan lying in bed, some small bandages on his face, a neck brace, and a cast visible on his left arm and leg. Whether there was anything else, she couldn’t tell, but his face was a mass of bruises wherever the bandages didn’t cover.

“Ryan?” she called, catching his attention.

“M&M? What’re you doing here?” he asked. Unable to roll to face her or even turn his head, the best the man could do was direct his gaze to the left. Gauze over the left eye caused him to stare mostly at the bridge of his nose as a result.

“I got a call; you must have mentioned me as a contact when you were brought in. You were in a collision?” Morgan made her way to the foot of his bed so he could see her better.

“Yeah, side impact. Guess which side,” he moaned, trying to make light of his injuries. “You don’t have to stand.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, pulling a chair over to where she was standing and sat down. “No offense, but you’re a mess.”

“Looks worse than it is.”

His saying that brought her a degree of comfort but the fact remained his speech was a mess – she could only assume he had cotton balls stuffed in his mouth.

“Whoever hit me must’ve hit the brakes hard. Ugh, sorry for calling you all the way out….”

“I thought my heart was going to stop when I heard the news; how could I not visit?”

He laughed at her comment; followed by strained groans that showed laughing was not in his best interests for the moment. “When you say it like that, I’d think you were still interested.”

Should she laugh? Was it a joke in the first place? Should she just turn him down outright? Did she want to? Whatever Morgan felt at that moment, she was relieved that her cheeks didn’t turn pink. Deciding it best to speak candidly, she leaned back in her chair and released a deep sigh. “You’re a great guy and barring your extreme work ethic, were a good boyfriend.”

The movement of his mouth, a faint twitching, suggested an attempt at a smile. “Thanks, that means a lot. Say, how’s…Kiyi like the laptop?”

“Wouldn’t know,” she laughed, her hair bobbing as she chuckled, “he disappeared with it when we got home and I was out the door again before I checked up on him. Say…speaking of work ethic, just what were you doing out on the roads so early? Wouldn’t you have a meeting at your lab or nearby?”

Ryan groaned. “No, I’m trying to get away from my work a little more.”

That was out of character for him, she thought. “Why’s that?”

“Lousy boyfriend, remember? I don’t want that to do me in a second time.”

Now this was intriguing. “Sly dog, you learn all about my personal life yet I don’t hear a word about yours.”

“You’ve met her,” he replied in a garbled voice. “She should be here soon; I…had my doctor call her after I was treated. I don’t even remember asking for you when I came in.”

            “I have to wait for this, now don’t I?” she teased. Had it not been for the mermen, she knew that news would have come as a disappointment. Morgan could only wonder just who he had gotten involved with. It was someone she knew…the only name that came to mind was Jessica, and prayed that wasn’t the case.

            Several minutes after the wait started, a knock came at the door. “Ryan? Is that you?”

It was a woman’s voice and the uncertainly yet familiarity in her tone suggested it wasn’t a nurse or doctor. Morgan turned her head to find a casually dressed woman who seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place the face.

“You…must be…Morgan, right?” the woman asked, approaching and offering a hand, turning her head to gaze upon the patient. “Ooh, you look awful!”

“Better than it looks. Morgan, this is Cheryl; you met when you brought Dace in,” he introduced.”

“Right!” Morgan exclaimed. She had been the one obstacle to their plan – the disinterested night janitor. “So, you two are an item?”

 “That’s right; I met him at the gym down the street from the lab and asked him out. Here we are, two weeks later,” she gushed. “First boyfriend I’ve had who made me sign waivers.”

“We work together,” Ryan mumbled through the cotton balls.

Morgan smiled and gave up her chair for his girlfriend. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Turning her attention to the patient, she added: “and give me a call when you’ve been released.”

Stepping from the room, the author let slip another genuinely happy smile as she glanced over her shoulder, spotting Cheryl shuffling the chair closer to his side. Checking her watch, Morgan realized just how much of the day she had lost from travel alone and dreaded another two hours of boredom. As her stomach complained that it didn’t want to wait any longer for some form of sustenance, she decided a cheap meal was in order; driving through a fast food joint, she was at least able to snack on fries and a drink for a portion of her last drive of the day.

            By the time she had parked the car and shuffled in through the front door, the sun was already setting, casting a beautiful range of colours in the horizon over the lake. Slipping out of her shoes and making her way through the living room and to the balcony on the far side of the house, she stepped out and enjoyed the view. So tired, was she, that Morgan only greeted the brothers with lacking enthusiasm as she passed the couch, cutting between the trio and the TV as they watched a movie about a mysterious and trap filled collection of sliding rooms. Letting out a deep sigh, she enjoyed this moment of peace.

            Her moment didn’t last for long, though not in an unwelcome way, when Kiyi picked up the remote and paused the film. The merman was almost surprised by his willingness to stop the movie, as he was fully engaged by the story; not so much by the characters, which was the intent, but by the intricacies of the many vicious traps and the premise behind the cubic rooms as well. His older and younger brothers were also as focused on the movie, though in such a way that it was a relief to see the carnage halt momentarily.

            “Is he alright?” Kiyi asked; his brothers had informed him of the emergency over dinner.

            “What happened?” Dace inquired.

            Glancing away from the spectacle of nature only momentarily, she described the events as best she could, assuring them that her friend would be just fine and was being taken care of. Any details of his newfound love life she had discovered were decidedly omitted.

            “That is a relief,” Kiyi replied, actually letting out a telling sigh. Of the three humans he had met, none of them had particularly interested him beyond what they could teach him before that day. But having seen the wonderful devices at that scientist’s lab and the generous donation of a machine to call his own, there was one person in which he had developed a vested interest.

            Morgan appreciated the sentiment and enjoyed the sunset with a sense of joy instead of mere exhaustion. Even the sound of the film coupled by shrieks from two of the brothers did nothing to diminish her enjoyment.

 

            Weeks passed and, for Morgan, life was good. Ryan had been released from the hospital and seemed to enjoy a greater amount of freedom in his schedule. The eldest brother would continue to spend time on the computer on occasion between periods of reading and still shared Morgan’s bed, to her delight. Kiyi put in many hours trying to discover the problem with the laptop before finally identifying the root cause, though she made sure to contact Ryan to confirm his findings before purchasing the necessary component.

The young chef’s choice of recipes became less extravagant, slowly settling into variations when using simple ingredients. Daily phone calls from Jessica became a highlight for Varden, which Morgan allowed so long as they were limited to a half-hour conversation each day.

With Dace being easy to please, Varden having someone to flirt with, and even Kiyi being kept entertained by having a computer to call his own and do with as he pleased, Morgan felt that the peaceful days would last indefinitely.

Then things started to change.

A couple weeks after the computer had been fixed she was contacted by Ryan with an offer to help keep the mechanically-inclined sibling content. With his love of machines being so great – and the thrill from dismantling and repairing them to boot – he offered to have him registered in a mechanics correspondence course. With all the expenses coming from her ex’s own pockets, Morgan couldn’t think of a single reason to refuse.

Though a change, it didn’t at all bother the author, quite the contrary, she was thrilled that he would be learning something that he loved and it was something that could be useful around the house.  Provided anything ever broke down, that was.

It was the second occurrence that concerned her the most. Without warning, not a call, letter, or even a casual mention from Varden, Morgan found her best friend on her doorstep wearing an uncommonly serious expression.

“Hi, Hon; we need to talk,” Jessica began as she was invited in. “I’m pretty sure you won’t like this, but I want Varden to move in with me.”

Morgan froze on the spot at the entrance of her home. “Move in? As in, to your apartment…in the city…where there are lots of people?” At the start the words passing her lips were spoken in a stupor but gradually became an expressed disbelief that something so clearly dangerous to their secrecy had been proposed.

“That’s right,” she admitted. “But it makes sense and I can make it work.”

“No, no way, it’s a terrible idea. If someone finds out, it would be off to the labs or a freak show with him!”

“You mean like how you took both of Varden’s brother’s to Ryan’s lab?” Jessica countered, folding her arms under her chest.

“T-that was for medical reasons.”

“I suppose taking your boyfriend shopping was also for ‘medical’ reasons?” she snapped, leaning closer to Morgan’s face. Her eyes began narrowing into slits, showing little more than her pupil and the light blue of her iris.

“One time! And where I took him is almost always empty!” Morgan yelled, her face reddening out of frustration.

Straightening her posture, Jessica let out an annoyed sigh. “Okay, if you’re going to be stubborn about what you’ve done, how about this? How well can you really deal with feeding three more adults, none of which work at all, while funding their hobbies? However cheap.”

“W-well…we don’t get out much and don’t travel so they’re pretty inexpensive….”

“What exactly does Varden like doing the most, hmm?” Jessica pushed. “Do you think he looks forward more to cooking or when I call? Has he hit on you at all since I first came over?” Jessica’s expression softened for a moment as she followed up with: “Actually, I’d really like to know the answer to that.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Morgan realized more and more that her friend was right about this, but still didn’t like it. No matter the circumstances, it would be much more likely they be discovered in the city over her cottage, and…she didn’t like to admit it, but she wanted to maintain her monopoly on the brothers. Even though she never intended to accept any of Varden’s lecherous proposals, the attention had been good for her ego. Really, she just wanted things to continue unchanged.

“No…he hasn’t.”

 “I didn’t think so. Having him stay with me would let us spent time together, your phone bill would go back down, and your food bill. It makes sense, Hon.”

“Then why doesn’t he decide?” Morgan fired back in desperation, realizing, with that very proposal, she had lost him.

Jessica smiled, coming to the same conclusion as the author. “Varden,” she called in a melodic voice, “could you come here, please?”

Like a well-trained dog called to heel, the merman slid across the floor and looked up at the two ladies, enraptured by Jessica’s choice to wear a skirt. “Yes?”

“Who would you rather live with: Morgan or with me, in my apartment?”

            His eyes sparkled when he heard the proposal but lost his sudden mirth when he glanced over his shoulder to the woman that he had lived with for so long, his expression now more somber.

            It was the most mature she had ever seem him.

            “Morgan…thank you for everything; teaching me to cook, buying what I needed, and every other fun thing I’ve done here. But I really want to go with Jessica. I like you, but I love her.”

            As Morgan became crestfallen, Jessica reached down and rubbed the top of his head. “Love you too, fishy. Don’t worry, Morgan; I’ll take care of him. If – and I mean if – it doesn’t work out, I will bring him back to you, okay?”

            She nodded before crouching down be closer to eye level with the young chef. “I’ll miss you; don’t be a stranger.”

            With an impish grin he nodded, soon letting out a surprised squeak when she put him in a tight hug.

            Putting together a collection of things for him to take to his new home – his board, some shirts that fit and suited him, a couple cookbooks she didn’t care to keep, and the fold-up wheelchair – Morgan said her farewells.

            Jessica thanked Morgan for everything and promised to return the wheelchair after she could buy a proper one for him to use. As the two left the cottage and headed for the truck, Morgan got one more giggle as she overheard Varden asking Jessica about the possibility of a three-way with the two of them.

            “Not a chance with how poorly you did with just me,” she replied in good humor, ruffling his hair.

            Despite losing him, Morgan didn’t feel as downtrodden as she had expected. Sure, he was leaving, but he was happier because of it, and it wasn’t as though she’d never see him again. They could visit, or vice versa, and there were always the times when Jessica would come for the latest manuscript. Things would work out just fine; only differently.

 

            Before she knew it, fall was upon them with the leaves turning beautiful shades of yellow and red, slowly breaking off and forming a colorful carpet as far as the eye could see. Sunsets and fallen leaves; they were the two things that made her view from the balcony even more pleasing. Glancing over her shoulder to Dace, she decided to include a third thing that would make it even nicer.

            Even though she was down to two guests, he continued to share her bed, cuddling up next to her every night. In his sleep his hands would sometimes wander but it was a nightly disturbance she was more than willing to enjoy.

            Like clockwork, each and every week, Sunday evening at seven, Varden would phone to let her know how things were on his end; reassuring her that the secret was being safely guarded, that the relationship was going well, and to speak with his brothers. Occasionally he would let it slip – or so he’d claim, Morgan knew that it was deliberate each and every time – that cooking wasn’t the only activity he had gotten good at quickly.

            Whenever he’d make such a reference, she didn’t know what part upset her more: that she was hearing about their sex life, more information than she had wanted; or that these conversations over the phone put him out of swatting distance. On one occasion she tried to take her revenge by telling Jessica that he was into S&M. Whatever level they took it to, it was clearly not enough, as she later learned he was enjoying himself.

            Of course, that meant she was able to enjoy another piece of information she didn’t want to know.

            As happy as she and Dace were, Kiyi started to slip back into his dark funk after completing his numerous courses, leaving him bored once more. It hadn’t helped that with his intense focus on the material, he had breezed through classes at a rate of about one every ten days. With nothing to occupy his time, he was becoming more irritable with each passing day.

            Though Morgan knew what needed to be done, she dreaded making the call, having a good idea of what would likely ensue. She phoned Ryan and asked for help, hearing the six words she had feared.

            “I would like to hire him,” Ryan explained.

            Admittedly, she didn’t expect those exact words, or even that number, but it was the message that mattered. “Which would mean…?”

            “I’ll rent an apartment close to the lab and move him in. The cost of the rent will be docked from his pay and any shopping he wants or needs would likely go through me. I’ll have another mechanic apprentice him for as long as is needed for him to get a grasp of things and then he can work independently.”

            “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked, nibbling her lower lip and scratching her palms.

            “He knows how to use a wheelchair?”

            “Yes, quite well.”

            “And he’s a quick study; just ask him to see if he’d like the job,” Ryan replied in a chipper voice.

            Groaning, Morgan moved from the kitchen’s sill to the guest room where Kiyi was laying in bed, playing a puzzle game on his laptop. “Kiyi, how…would you like to work in Ryan’s lab?”

            The gloomy merman perked up immediately. “Honestly?” he squealed, holding out a hand for the phone. As soon as he could, he brought it to his ear and gave his answer. “What will I be doing?”

            “You’d be a mechanic; I’ll find you a home near my lab and—”

            “Yeah, fine, but what about the job? What will I do?”

            “Maintenance and repairs on anything in the lab; you’ll be shown the ropes for a while then made a full-time employee. What do you think?”

            A grin threatening to overtake the man’s ears stretched across his face. “Ryan Andrews, you have yourself a mechanic!”

            Morgan sighed as she took back the phone. “There you have it.”

            Light-hearted laughter filled the line until the geneticist settled down, having enjoyed such an enthusiastic response. “I’ll be there after I have a place set up for him. Should only take two…maybe three weeks; you’ll hear from me again before I drive over to pick him up.”

            Hearing him hang up the phone, Morgan felt the pains of separation anxiety once more, knowing that soon she’d only have Dace left. Even though that wasn’t a bad thing, he was the one she could relate the most to and enjoyed his company right from the start, there was a nagging doubt in the back of her mind that he, too, would want something more and leave.

            As she turned to leave him to his game, Morgan spotted a curious thing poking out from under the mattress of the bed nearest to the door. Reaching down, she pulled on the incongruous piece of fabric to find it to be a complete bra. Reaching under to see what else could be found, the author was able to retrieve a pair of panties as well.

            Giving their curious placement only a passing thought, she returned them to her room, glad to have found the missing pieces to two sets of underwear.

 

            For the next eleven days, Kiyi spent his days happily re-reading all his textbooks and course notes in preparation for his new career. Every evening, at which time Morgan insisted he take a break from his studies, the three housemates would watch a sci-fi flick; the middle brother accepting no alternatives if he were to be separated from his review.

            On the last of these days, they got the call to announce the acquisition of an apartment. He wouldn’t be able to move in right away, but for the sake of ease, was to be picked up to stay with the scientist until such time as he could.

            On twelfth day, Morgan treated him to a pack of Skittles as a going away present. “After you’ve gotten settled into your new job and home, ask Ryan to set up an internet connection for you, alright?” she requested.

            “Internet?” he asked, opening up the bag of candy and popping one of the sweets into his mouth. Kiyi’s body shivered with delight which was only doubled at the sight of Dace’s jealous expression. “Why do I need that?”

            It was true he had needed it for his courses, but now that they had been completed, he didn’t see much point.

            “To keep in touch,” Morgan explained. “If you put on the right software, we can talk or write as often as you’d like.

            The merman hummed to himself as he considered it. “Only as often as I’d like?”

            “Uh…yeah.”

            “Okay, I guess I can manage that.”

            Right up until the last moment, his attitude was less than sociable, with having his things carried out to Ryan’s car being the most enthusiastic he had been outside of receiving the candy. Had Morgan only lost one of the three brothers, his departure was the one that she minded the least, but it still hurt to be losing his company.

            Giving him a hug that he clearly did not want, Morgan and Dace said their farewells, to which he responsed half-heartedly while popping another candy into his mouth as to enjoy Dace’s reaction once more.

            Shouting out to his younger brother as the car took him away, Dace wished him the best of luck on his new life, chipper as always. Out on the front step, the eldest brother stared at the great outdoors for several minutes before returning to the comforting confines of the cottage, making his way back to the computer to resume the work he had been performing for well over a month.

            Morgan, deciding to leave him to his curious project and wandered through her quaint home, taking in how much larger, more empty it felt now. The guest room was all tidy, with no one needing it any time soon; not unless Jessica were to arrive with her new lover unexpectedly. The kitchen no longer had the seemingly endless stream of appetizing scents wafting through the air and leaving everyone with a desire to eat. Though it had been this way for some time, the cleanliness of the washroom, with the tub no longer serving as the bed to a merman, made her nostalgic for the good old days where her days were a hassle of dealing with the collection of uneducated pieces of fetish fuel.

            As night fell, all the reminiscing brought forth questions she needed answered but loathed the though of receiving unfavorable answers. She tried to push the inquiries from her mind, sitting down with Dace to watch a romantic comedy; one light-hearted and sweet to bring her out of her self-inflicted gloom.

            When the movie was coming to a close, she felt Dace cuddle up next to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he held her arm-in-arm. His proximity made her warm and comfortable, but when the movie’s credits started to roll, her thoughts drifted back to her earlier concerns.

            “Dace, are you happy like this or do you want more?” Her mouth was moving before she had the thought to stem the question, the query now out in the open.

            Raising his head and pulling away until only his hand was in hers, the merman quietly contemplated his life and what he wanted out of it. After a length of silence that was unnerving for the author, he approached and squeezed her tightly in his arms in a loving embrace.

            It was a momentary comfort before he answered with: “I do want more.” Ending the hug, he crawled over to the computer and turned it on, bringing back the uncomfortable silence as the faint glow of the screen showed the booting process. When the operating system had finished loading, Dace found the file he wanted and opened it, waving for Morgan to approach.

            Rather than stay in the chair, he flopped down to the floor and let her sit, to stare at a screen filled with text that went on for a fair number of pages – according to the page count at the bottom of the screen. As much as she wanted to ask what this was, she chose to read it herself, thinking it would only work against her to ask anything more.

            By the end of the first page of text, she knew exactly what it was supposed to be. The flow of the text, the narration sprinkled between descriptions and conversation, Dace had been writing a novel. By the second page of text, the plot of the story had become perfectly clear, as well. Without knowing what he was thinking at all times, she could only assume that he had written an autobiographical tale of how they first met, and – with so much left unread – details of his life up to this point.

            It was hardly a masterpiece, as she saw it; there were problems with the flow and pacing, and the style certainly needed to be refined, but at the same time it showed promise beyond that of a complete amateur.

            Turning away from the monitor she looked down at his eager face, aglow in the light of the computer screen, she made her observation. “You want to be a writer?”

            “Yup!” he replied cheerfully.

            It being something she could teach personally, her hopes rose. “Do you have to leave?”

            Dace’s head tilted to one side, his teal hair sliding along with it. “Why would I leave?” The look in his eyes was one of genuine confusion; he had not once given a thought of leaving her home.

            “Never mind,” she replied, shaking her head, a smile plastered on her lips and a faint welling of tears in her eyes. “You’re story needs a bit of work, but I think I can make you into a fine author.”

            Letting out a cheerful squeal, the merman lunged for her, attempting a hug. Instead, he fell short and wound up flopped over her lap, much like a cat that has stretched out across its owner’s lap.

            Morgan laughed then spied his exposed rear and couldn’t help herself. Moving a hand over to his firm ass, she gave it a squeeze; his head rising immediately. He then looked over his shoulder at her.

            “You do that a lot.”

            Another laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do. Should I stop?”

            “I don’t mind,” he smiled, his answer only spurring her on. After a minute of continuous fondling, he slid off her lap and rested his chin on her lap. “Morgan, can I ask you something?”

            “Sure,” she replied simply, thinking whatever he could ask was worth what he let her get away with.

            “Before, you told me about relationships and the different kinds…” he began. “We’re friends, right?”

            “Of course,” she answered, gently running her fingers through his long, thick locks.

            “Do we have to be?”

            Morgan froze.

            “Couldn’t we be romantic?”

            From frozen to flush in a single heartbeat, she hugged his head as best she could given their positions. “You really want to?”

            A faint glow came across his face. “Yeah…. Varden is like that with Jessica, and Kiyi has Ryan….”

            Morgan knew how very wrong he was about that second thought, but damned if she didn’t try to envision it.

            “…And I’ve been thinking about you ever since we watched that movie,” the merman explained.

            It took her a moment to think of which film to which he could be referring, then recalled the night she had allowed him to fondle her bosom. “The one with the demonic hand?”

            “No, no, the one with the men stripping for the women and—”

            “Stop! I get it; don’t remind me.” Her face was red for an entirely different reason, as she remembered the embarrassment of having her porn stash uncovered. Laughing away her discomfort, she cupped one side of his face with her hand. “I’d like that.”

            With a smile as wide as he’s ever had, Dace felt as she gently raised his head from her lap and leaned forward. “So we’re like the people in romance movies?”

            “That’s right,” she replied with a giggle. “We’ll just take it slow and live happily ever after.”

            Drawing him in, her lips met his for the first time since they had met. Her eyes just barely open, she saw his go wide in surprise before slowly closing as he enjoyed the sign of affection, melting into it in such a way that appeared inspired by the reactions in movies but felt genuine. Slowly she pulled away only to feel the merman pursue her lips, the pressure of the kiss returning. Stopping long enough for him to enjoy this second caress, she pulled away and straightened out her back.

            He looked disappointed it had ended so soon.

            “There will be lots more of that later,” Morgan assured him, bringing two fingers up to her lips. “And we’ll go much farther, too…I’ll really treat you once your first story gets published.”

             Her proposition brought stars to his eyes as he hugged her legs at the knees. Excitedly, he talked about wanting to start learning how to be a good writer as soon as possible. Whether his exhilaration stemmed more from the prospect of writing than carnal urges, only he would know the answer to that. Though a small mystery, Morgan never went looking for the answer; after all, the result was the same.

            It took Morgan several minutes before she was able to calm him well enough to retire to her bed for the evening, as she knew she would be needing some good night’s rest from here on out. His story wasn’t that far off from going to print, especially if it were submitted under her name as a ghost writer. The coming days would certainly be busy, and she had to think how to proceed with his special lessons.

            Perhaps she could dig up that box for some inspiration….