A/N:No one is writing mermaid!Sherlock fics, so I decided to write one of my own. Feel free to call me out on any mistakes I've made, I typed this up in a hurry. Read and Review, please! I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1.
John Watson was a sailor, born and bred. His home was the ocean (or his ship, rather), his family his crew and the creatures of the sea. Even in the early years of his childhood he could remember being drawn to the sea. Stories his father, a crewman on an old trade ship, would tell to him of great storms and battles with gargantuan sea monsters only seemed to deepen the young boy's interest. And of course there were mermaids. John had always been interested in tall tales of mermen and mermaids, often listening to elder sailors and locals at docks ramble old myths and legends about the mythical creatures. Which is exactly why he could be found in old inns and pubs gathering information on the subject. Today was no different.
"Captain! The crew's ready! Where in the hell have you been off to?" Lestrade demanded, catching up to Watson's pace down the dock and to the ship. John kept silent, pulling his weather-torn coat closer to his shivering form. "Oh, oh I see. Abandon the ship 'n crew to go here those fairytales? Honestly, Captain, I can't imagine why you believe in that old bullshit." Lestrade spat, hints of anger seeping into his tone. John remained quiet. This wasn't unusual. In fact, it happened nearly every time John and his crew docked for supplies and ammunition. Every story was well worth the time to him, however. Acquiring the information about the creatures and their alleged whereabouts could lead him one step closer to laying eyes on the creatures that intrigued him.
He had come across a story that had truly caught his attention today, though. He had wandered the docks for what seemed like hours until coming across an old woman at an inn, appropriately named 'The Mermaid's Scale Inn'. John made his way in, watching his step on old floorboard and rusty nails, dodging leaking, dingy water dripping endlessly from the ceiling. The state of the inn led him to believe it to be abandoned, and John turned to leave before an old woman's voice rang out through the room.
"What do you want?" she demanded, appearing from behind a rotting wooden door near the back. John quickly pulled his hat off, kneading the fabric of it nervously as he looked the woman in the eye. Cold, barren features were chiseled into her face by years and years of the harsh conditions of living at sea; John saw she was unmistakably an old sailor woman.
"I-I.. I've come to ask you if you know any tales of," John paused anxiously from the brutal gaze the woman was giving him. "Mermaids." He stopped, and awaited her answer in the not so silent room. Water dripped and the docks creaked and moaned below the floors. The woman's face, surprisingly, softened, her eyes shone bright with excitement.
"You want to know about the merfolk?" John nodded."I've got information, boy. I have facts. No one believes in the merfolk anymore, but you do, yes?" John nodded again.
The woman led him back into a small back room from which she first entered, giving him tea (which John choked down, the lukewarm liquid slid down his throat unpleasantly) and a place to sit as she told him her stories and personal accounts.
"I've just seen on the other day," she paused, pointing to a small window that gave a breathtaking view of the sea. Her voice lowered as if she was telling John a dark secret. "He was just out the window, I saw him with my own eyes. He has a magnificent tail, with a shining fin at the end. He was by far the most beautiful one I've ever laid eyes on. Dark hair with curls, and pale, white skin. He was stunning." She paused again, deep in thought.
John listened to every detail she noted, every story she so beautifully described. He was thankful for the old woman and had been willing to let the ship's crew wait on him. There were merfolk out there (well, if everything the woman had said was true.) and John Watson was determined to find one. Lestrade led the way onto the ship, John following. The crew was a bit hostile with him and the passengers antsy to leave the docks, but how could her explain why he was late? 'I just went to talk to a possibly insane woman about a merman?'. Yes, that was sure to blow over well.
"I got caught up with an old friend," he lied, aware of Lestrade's disapproving glares. It seemed to satisfy everyone though, and the crew got the ship prepared to leave, while the passengers made their way around the ship and into the cabins. The familiar breeze of the sea met John's face and he closed his eyes in relaxation. The sea was truly his home. It was full of life, full of living things that thrived off the vast environment. And hopefully one of those things was a merman or mermaid. John set his gaze ahead of the ship, looking back once at the docks when they were but a speck in the distance. He turned back to the ship, surveying the decks as well as the crew as they ambled about. He felt the well-known control of manning the ship. The one thing he failed to realize, however, were a pair of ocean-colored eyes staring straight at him from within the sea.
John Watson was being followed.