4 the last time princess does not need to wear a bra
Kelly takked her response to her boss into her phone, hardly paying attention as she went down to the lower level for some peace and quiet and thinking. Princess was just an animal; why was she the only one who realized that? She sighed as she sent the text. Brisk, she knew, but Princess' bra, or lack of one, had been a two month battle. As the first marine biologist to find and study Princess, she had been given a great deal of leeway and say so in the set up of the tank. But she was also a grad student just five months out of college, and there were a lot of people who would prefer a more experienced and professional person studying Princess. But sometimes Kelly's mouth just got the best of her.
She descended down the steps into the darkened cove. It was her favorite spot in the entire aquarium. For some reason, no one hardly came down here, despite it being the best view in the house. Quiet and still she could study Princess for hours without interruptions. But as she made it down to the darkened landing, Kelly's breath caught in her throat. Her dream sat on the tough carpeting in front of the viewscreen: a juvenile male merman with red hair and an ornate red fin.
The scientist in her screamed that this was strange and not right, how could a merman possibly get here, without leaving even the slightest dampness around him? But Kelly was not going to let a gift merman in the mouth.
He saw her and his eyes went wide, too, and he popped and whistled at Kelly. As if in response, Princess, who was looking at the merman from her tank, whistled a few times, too.
Kelly rushed to the juvenile and fell down beside him. She couldn't help but smile.
"It's ok, it's ok," Kelly said, running her hand through the merman's hair. She felt the little red baubles that gave it extra shininess. She looked between the juvenile and Princess, and saw the way the mermaid was transfixed. Kelly knew that Princess had a fixation for shiny things, and there was nothing shiny in the world than this merman.
"Like a cichlid or a peacock," Kelly said, realizing that like many fish species, the males were the ones that were brightly colored and eye catching.
The merman made more popping noises, this time they were faster and more high pitched. Kelly didn't pay him much mind now, at least not directly, and she pulled out her phone and speed dialed Walter.
"Pick up, pick up, pick up." Kelly didn't know how long the juvenile had been out of the water. Considering the dry state of the carpet, it must have been a while. She pushed her questions about how he ended up here out of her mind again. Now was not the time. The phone connected and a cheery voice of the aquarium vet came through.
"Kelly, what's . . ."
"Walter, get your ass down to the lower level observation deck. Bring a stretcher if you can. If not, get a few people that can help carry something."
"What's the matter, is it Princess?"
"I would tell you, but you wouldn't believe me. Just get down here ASAP."
"Will do." Walter hung up. He was a big man, but he could move when an animal needed rescuing. Kelly sat back and looked at the juvenile again, and then Princess. And then she closed her eyes and smiled. No one could take her mermaids from her now. A year, two at the most, and he would be mature enough to breed with Princess. This was her career. The next forty years of her life would be spent researching these animals. It would make her the closest thing the marine biology world had to a rock star. Move over Jane Goodall.
When she opened her eyes, the juvenile was looking back at her with scared human eyes. Kelly just smiled at him and rubbed his hair again.
"You're going to be fine. But what should we call you . . ."
