Cht 1
Liz sighed deeply, wanting nothing more than to peel off her work clothes, climb under the covers and sleep for a week, avoiding all human contact. Helluva birthday, she thought as she shuffled through the doorway, locking it securely behind her, and sighed again in the general direction of the kitchen before hitting Wing Yee's on speed dial. Screw cooking, she was no good at it anyway.
Compromising slightly since the sitter was on her way over with Agnes, Liz traipsed back to her room and stripped naked, yearning to stay that way, but instead tugging on a pair of yoga pants and an old Quantico sweatshirt before walking back out to the kitchen as she scratched her rumbling belly. She had a strange yen for a nice warm bath, or better yet, a swim at the local Y. Definitely not the time for that though, she reasoned, and she was famished. Still waiting for Rosa to show up with her baby girl in tow, Liz swung into the kitchen and copped a pint of Bourbon Pecan Praline Haagen Dasz. Just what the doctor ordered, she told herself.
"Happy birthday Liz," she said out loud, between the first and second spoonful. She flopped dejectedly on the couch, wondering why she didn't take Red or even Samar up on either of their offers to go out tonight. Her thirtieth birthday hadn't hit her this hard, but her thirty-fifth loomed before her tomorrow, she groaned, and it just seemed like such a depressing age—mainly because she had still not hit any of the milestones she expected to by this time. Well…not exactly true, she mentally admonished herself. She had a little one, she thought, smiling at a small framed picture of her baby on the side table. She had been married, such as that was, and tried not to dwell on the fact that Tom decided to stay with his family once he found them. She was a full-fledged FBI agent, with a full plate at work and a frustrating CI to keep her abundantly busy. But she felt so unsettled… and what's worse, she could not quite put her finger on why. She had fully expected to still be married, and maybe have settled into a comfortable family life by now. Maybe that was it, she thought as the doorbell rang, jarring her from her thoughts.
Two hours later, with a belly full of sweet and sour pork, she finally crashed out on the couch after putting Agnes down for the night. The harsh blue light of the tv washed over her, along with the buzzing murmur of the 24-hour news cycle.
She woke sometime in the middle of the night when she rolled off the couch, gasping for air and clawing to get her clothes off. In an instinctive panic she started crawling to the bathroom as a loud crash sounded at the door and a pair of strong hands grasped her, hauling her up and clamping arms around her as she began to struggle. Her gut clenched at the thought of some intruder breaking into her house while she was so vulnerable, but a familiar and somewhat comforting voice in her ear stopped the worst of her struggling as she recognized it was Reddington who had her. And he was taking her to the bathroom. Yet as she continued to gasp for breath and pull at her clothes, she realized that Dembe was quickly stoppering the tub and turning the tap on full blast before rushing back out toward the kitchen. Liz was dimly aware of the kitchen faucet running and the clattering sound of cupboards being opened as Dembe rummaged through dishes.
Meanwhile Red was busily stripping her down, her own efforts only seeming to hamper him, but she couldn't rid herself of the suffocating feeling. She felt near passing out as he dumped her unceremoniously into the lukewarm water. Liz fought him as he forced her head down under the swiftly running water. Her legs in the air, she kicked and struggled a moment before realizing that she was breathing…better. She gasped a lungful of water and instead of coughing and choking, she felt a rush of oxygen into her system and a strange swishing as she breathed the water out of her mouth. It was the strangest sensation, but she felt immediately better and stopped struggling as Dembe returned to her view with a large bucket of water he poured into the tub beside her to help fill it faster.
Red still held her, more gently this time as she had stopped struggling and lay complacently in the bottom of the tub, trying to calm down and get a good grasp of the situation. Dimly, through the water, she heard Agnes's muffled cries. Dembe stepped back out saying he would check on her, as she likely woke up from all the noise. Red nodded grimly as Lizzie blinked back at him, bubbles frothing up from her breathing more regularly now. He smiled at her for the first time, concern still etching its way across his forehead.
"Better?" he asked hopefully.
Liz nodded, confusedly, then caught sight of her legs. Except they were no longer legs, which earned another gasp from her. No way, she mouthed under water. A long, slinky iridescent green blue fin flopped against the shower wall. She whooshed out water and tried to sit up. The moment she did, she exhaled what water was still in her lungs and as she broke the surface, breathed air. It felt a little dry and less oxygen dense, but okay. She fought another rise of panic at the thought of her legs, but Red quickly shushed her.
"They'll come back once you've calmed down, and eventually you'll learn to make yourself shift," he said, placing a placating hand on her arm draped over the side of the tub. Dembe stepped to the door with a sleepy, cranky Agnes in his arms.
Liz, her mouth still wide open in shock croaked out a, "hi baby, Mommy's okay," before Dembe moved out again and kept walking and talking to the baby to calm her.
She looked back at Red, who continued explaining, "the first time is involuntary, kind of like morning wood when you hit puberty," he chuckled. Liz huffed out a frustrated breath, still at a loss for words.
"What the hell?" she finally blurted out.
Red smiled winningly, "the phrase 'mermaid' sounds so fanciful, doesn't it?"
Liz made a squeak of protesting disbelief, despite all signs to the obvious. She still wasn't entirely sure it wasn't an ice cream and Chinese food-induced dream. Nightmare? She cocked her head as her lower body shifted a bit and with a strange pulling and tickling sensation, the scales melded into skin and her single fin separated into legs once again. She ran her hands over her thighs and took a deep breath.
"Mermaid…" she looked up at him, thoroughly overwhelmed. She didn't know what to ask first.
"Different names and stories from different cultures," Red ventured slowly, nodding. "'Mermaid' is simply the most common. Selkies, sirens…myths always have a grain of truth to them."
He brushed a hand over Liz's hair, then picked up a towel and offered it.
"You'll need a good deal of explanation, I think."
"Huh," was all she could muster.
"I'll make some coffee while you get dressed."
