#(the end!)

"Rule number one: absolutely no flash photography. Take as many pictures and videos you want, but you have to leave the flash off. Our mer's eyes are sensitive to highly-focused levels of light, and you could temporarily blind them. Rule number two: do not knock or beat on the glass. It is several inches thick and reinforced, but you can still startle and disturb the mer. Rule number three: please...please stop flipping off our mer. They've learned to mimic their handlers and some of the guests, and it took weeks to make them quit it. If I see a bird, notice a flash, or catch you banging on the glass, everyone will be asked to leave."

He drops his hand, looking at every guest expectantly.

"Got it? Everyone say yes, Damian."

"Yes, Damian," the crowd echoes back, a mixture of amusement from the adults and excitement from the children reaching his ears. He gives them another practiced smile and reaches for the door.

"Great. Then step right in. Fan out and look around as much as you want. You can ask any questions now."

"How long has Gotham Aquarium had the mer?" One adult immediately asks, examining the seaweed on the bottom of your tank.

"Almost two years," Damian replies. "The anniversary of their arrival is in a month. We've got a small party planned to celebrate."

"What's the mer's favorite color?" A child asks him, gently tugging on Damian's pant leg to get his attention. His smile becomes more genuine.

"Green," he replies. "They love green things. I see your hair clip is green. They'll probably stare at you when they come out."

The little girl gasps, eyes wide. "Really!?" She turns and runs to her dad. "Hey daddy! The mer likes green, and my hair clip is green! The mer will like me!"

More questions come that Damian answers with ease. He paces along the floor and casts his gaze upward, examining all the little ways your tank has been changing overtime.

Your rock collection has grown substantially since Damian started painting more for you. He gives you a new one every day, and you have them proudly scattered all along the floor to decorate your enclosure. You've also taken to moving your seaweed around; instead of one, big stretch of it to hide and sleep in, you've uprooted it and made it into a series of little hiding places. He can also see some weighted toys lying around that one visitor asks about, happy to explain how you use them for enrichment.

"When's the mer come out?" Another one asks, leaning against the glass. His eyes are practically glazed over from disinterest. "Is it sleeping or something? These tickets were like forty bucks and I'm just staring at rocks and water."

There's a loud thud against the glass behind him. The man yelps and whips around to find you with your hands pressed against the wall, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stare right at him.

"Oh, shit!"

Damian sighs, but he's smirking. You love startling unsuspecting guests; it's your second favorite activity. He watches the others flock to you once they realize what happened, and you perk up and examine them all with a much more pleasant smile.

"Daddy, I can't see," the girl from before complains. Her father gently hoists her up onto his shoulders, and you immediately take notice.

You push off from the glass and swim around the edge of the tunnel to examine her as closely as possible. You tap one claw on the glass, then gesture to your head, and the little girl gasps and beams.

"They see it!!! They see my hair clip daddy!!" She chirps. She tugs it off of her head and holds it up for you to see better. Your pupils widen and your tail swishes gently back and forth, deeply intrigued.

"Obviously, this is our mer," Damian speaks up, and he tells them your name. "Their breed is found in shallow, fresh water. They thrive in warmer temperatures, and they're very rarely alone. You can typically expect them to travel in pods of at least three, though more commonly up to six or seven."

"But Gotham Aquarium only has one mer?" A guest asks, while you make playful grabs for the clip to no avail. "Aren't they lonely, then?"

"There was a big adjustment period for them when we first acquired our mer," Damian nods, "but they have a dedicated team of caregivers that ensure they aren't lonely or bored. They've bonded with several of us very well. Even though they recognize that we don't live underwater, they still see us as pod-mates."

"How long did it take to bond with them?"

"Great question," Damian says. He watches you give up on snatching the clip and start swimming around the tunnel to examine the other visitors. "It took them about ten months after arriving to learn to trust me. We started off slow: I would use a remote-controlled robot to deliver their buckets of food and then dump it into the water. Then I would enter the room where the top of the tank is, and hand it to them with a long pole. Then I got rid of the pole and set the bucket on the lip of the tank, and stood back while they retrieved it. When they got used to me being around, we started working on small tricks."

Damian lifts his hands, wiggling his fingers to catch your attention. You lock eyes with him and give a knowing nod, swimming up until you're positioned directly above him. He waves his left hand clockwise, and you swim in slow, clockwise circles. He waves his right arm next, and you switch and start spinning counter-clockwise.

"This is all done humanely and voluntarily, of course," Damian explains while the guests watch on with rapt attention. "If there's a trick they don't want to perform, they simply won't do it. We don't force them into doing anything, including coming out during tours if that's not what they want. Some days they just aren't up to saying hello, and that's fine."

He drops one arm and uses the other to make a broad waving motion. You mimic the action. He points at one of your toys, gesturing for you to grab it and bring it over. You glance at the one he wants, then ignore him and decide to go back over to the little girl and admire her hair clip some more.

"As you can see, they like shiny objects, especially if they're green. They've got a small collection of aquatic-safe objects in their hideaway. All breeds of mer tend to have hoarding tendencies, and ours is no different."

Damian gives the group a few more facts about you and your general behaviors, answers some more questions, and then inevitably has to call it when the same guy complaining about ticket prices decides to photograph you with the flash on. You flinch and rub your eyes, then dart away out of sight.

"All right, everyone, please come this way," he calls, in that cordial but no-nonsense tone again, and holds open the door. "This concludes your tour of Gotham Aquarium. Please exit this way in an orderly fashion."

"Aww.."

"Nice job, jackass. We were supposed to be in here for at least twenty more minutes."

"I didn't think he was serious! I forgot to turn the flash off, so what!"

"That was kinda cool. Sucks we couldn't stay, though."

There's a tug on his pants again. Damian looks down at the little girl, who fidgets nervously.

"Um...is the mer gonna be okay? Are their eyes hurting a lot?" She asks. Damian knees down to her height and offers her another smile.

"They'll be fine," he promises. "I personally check on them every day. What's your name? I'll tell them you said hi."

"Um!" The girl blushes, eyes wide. "It's Rosie! Thank you mister!"

"You're welcome, Rosie. I hope you had fun today."

"So much fun!" She agrees, then turns to her dad and reaches up to take his hand, walking out of the tunnel. "Daddy, daddy! When I grow up I wanna take care of mers, too!"

"Okay, honey," her dad chuckles, "but you're gonna have to do your homework if that dream is gonna come true."

"Aw, man!....okay. I'll do my math sheets for the mers..."

Once the room is cleared, Damian closes and locks the doors. He hangs around just long enough to ensure no stragglers try to swing back around, then drops the Polite Tour Guide persona and heads for the staff elevators with a scowl. It's a matter of minutes before he's in the locker room, swapping out the Aquarium polo and khakis for his wetsuit and then trudging into your tank entrance.

"Rule one!" He complains to Jon, who is already sitting on the lip of the tank and filling a puzzle cube with treats for you. "No flash! It's the first rule, and someone breaks it almost every single day we're open! One day I'm going to hit my limit for these witless miscreants and start punching people."

"So, tours didn't go super well I take it," Jon says, not even sparing him a glance. He's heard different versions of this rant at least five times and doesn't react to it anymore, having quickly come to understand that Damian is just Like That. "You gonna go do the eye exam already or should I call my dad? Y'know, the actual vet?"

"He's never as thorough as I prefer. You know that. Also: shut up, who asked you?"

"You're a joy and a delight to work with, Wayne."

Damian ignores him and grabs a rebreather and situates it over his mouth, ties the bag of eye equipment around his waist, steps up onto the edge of the tank, then dives. The water swirls around him, an all-encompassing and welcoming pressure. He starts pedaling his arms and legs, headed for the direction you sped off at the end of the tour.

He finds you in the middle level of your tank, about a floor down, curled around an underwater tree limb and rubbing your eyes. You squint at him when you notice his presence and trill, the water vibrating slightly around you.

Damian quickly goes to work, pulling out one tool at a time to check on your eyes and how well you can see. You're perfectly fine, just annoyed, but he considers having his father enact a total ban on any cameras in the tunnel when tours come by. Just because you're fine now doesn't mean it'll stay that way every time.

He points upwards, to the surface, and you nod. You take his hand and pull him along, your powerful tail carrying him faster than he ever could on his own, and soon you're both above the water and treading it calmly.

"Welcome back!" Jon grins, waving your puzzle toy at you. "Refilled this for ya. Your record for getting all the treats out is six minutes. Think you can break that today?"

Your eyes narrow and you reach for it eagerly. You can smell the squid and shrimp tucked into each compartment, which are your favorites; absolutely you will be getting those out in six minutes or less.

Damian pulls himself up to the lip of the tank and both boys watch you poke, pull, and prod at the components of the puzzle box. It's not long before you're collecting your spoils and eating them triumphantly. Jon checks his timer and notes that you beat your previous record by over a minute and a half.

"Are you surprised?" Damian huffs. "They're brilliant. They could learn to do just about anything with enough time and practice."

You preen, chittering your agreement. That's why Damian is your favorite caretaker; he's never doubted you since getting to know you, not ever.

He did forget something, though. You toss the puzzle box back at Jon and make grabby hands, face expectant.

Damian immediately clears his throat and looks at Jon, cheeks turning the barest shade of pink. "I need you to go and fetch the shears. The vine growth on the middle level of the tank is beginning to obscure vision and easy travel."

"You didn't bring them with you?" Jon frowns. "Dude. They're all the way on the bottom floor in the maintenance closet. It's gonna take me like twenty minutes to get back here."

"Then you'd better make haste."

"Why can't you do it?"

Damian scowls at him. Jon throws his hands up and climbs to his feet.

"Fine! Haven't gotten my ten thousand steps yet anyway," he grumbles, heading for the door. "Don't play hide and seek without me! I've just gotten good at finding spots I can fit in!"

You chitter and chirp, amused, then focus on Damian again once the doors go your enclosure snap shut.

Damian faces you, the pink in his cheeks worsening. He fiddles with the bag tied to his waist and avoids your gaze.

"I, ah..." He starts, working his jaw in thought. "The girl whose clip you liked. She says hello. Her name is Rosie."

You blink, waiting patiently for him to get to the point.

"I was asked about how you've adjusted to life here without pod-mates. I told them you have a pod in us. That you're not alone here despite being the only one of your kind in Gotham Aquarium." Damian swishes his feet slowly in the water, following the same rhythm as your tail. You drift a little closer.

"And you've adjusted very well, Princess," he continues, voice turning soft. "I can't thank you enough for giving me a second chance to care for you. I want you to know that it means everything to me."

Damian meets your gaze again, and there it is. There's that pair of gorgeous, emerald eyes you adore. You drift even closer, resting your palms on the backs of his calves, and smile up at him. He smiles right back.

"You noticed I don't have another rock for you," he says. You nod. "It's because I didn't bring you a rock this time."

You frown, huffing. Damian chuckles.

"You know I kept the scales you gave me," he admits, recapturing your attention. Your eyes widen, heart starting to pound in your chest. Was he about to give them back? You didn't want them back. "They're beautiful, Princess. I keep them in a jar in my bedroom, and I look at them all the time. They make me happy every time I see them. I wanted to give you something like that in return."

Your heart pounds faster. It sounds like he's about to do what you've wanted from him for what feels like forever. Your grip on his calves tightens, wide eyes searching his own.

"I don't ever want you to doubt how much I care about you again," Damian says, pulling your gift out of the pouch on his waist.

It's a beautiful, emerald pendant on a gold chain, the jewel the same shade as his eyes. You're immediately captivated, reaching up with a trembling hand to cradle the necklace to your chest and admire it more closely. The gentle, rippling water of your tank reflects against the surface and makes the shine of it seem to undulate all around you. It's the most wonderful gift you've ever gotten.

"I hope... I hope that you'll accept this token of courtship," Damian finishes quietly.

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and trill loudly enough to make his ears ring. You tug frantically at his legs and he obediently slips back into the water, letting you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight, tight, tight. He squeezes you right back, resting his chin on top of your head.

"I love you," he mumbles into your hair. You warble it back as best as you can, nuzzling into him, then lean up and gently press your lips against his. He presses right back, shivering but not from the chill of the water.

Jon finds the two of you like that when he returns with the shears twenty minutes later. He just sighs and rolls his eyes.

"First of all, finally. The will-they-won't-they drama was killing me. Second of all, you could have just said you wanted a moment alone, dude. It took me forever to find these! Do the vines even need trimmed down?"