i can't believe it — i wrote fluff; there's not a bit of angst in here and it's just so weird and unrealistic but then again this seems sort of canon to sirena's personality; hope you guys like this though, c:

you make me happy
sirenadavid, sirenacentric

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The sun glistens upon the shore, and she stretches out her arms in the Moon Pool, basking in the radiance of the way the tiny slivers of sunlight filter through the opening at the top of the area, sunlight catching in her strawberry blonde hair, iridescent blue eyes flowing with joy. She fingers the tiny coarse beads, stringing them into bracelets which fit loosely around her slightly bony wrist, and pushes herself out of the water, and onto the sand; a few moments pass before she transforms into a human being and she stumbles for a moment on the sand of Rita's basement.

Rita's cat meows, and rolls over on her side, and Sirena rolls her eyes, not bothering to resist the urge to break into a smile at the sight of the fluffy, adorable creature — two months ago, she would have been scared out of her mind, and fled, wondering if the cat was some sort of demonic creature that hadn't been taught about in mermaid school. Then again, two months ago, Sirena was a different person; she wasn't sure whether that change was for the better or for the worse. C'mon Sirena, we're going to the café, Lyla walks down the butterfly staircase quickly, applying something akin to the sheen of gloss to her lips, and Nixie wrinkles her nose in confusion, secretly smiling to herself.

Why are we going to the café again? Sirena asks, wrapping the towel around her and wiping the faint remains of water that had stayed on her face from before the transformation. It's not that I don't mind going there, but don't we have to go to school today?

Nixie rolls her eyes, Since when have we actually gone to normal human school? Rita covers for us, anyways, with the attendance records, and why do you even care? It's not like we're going to be here for longer. Just find a way to yank out Zac's powers, and leave. That had been the plan about three weeks ago, but it had failed miserably; something about common courtesy and manners and politeness had come into the question, according to Rita. So now, the plan was to get close to this human boy and try to get him to trust them; Sirena thinks that it's a rather silly idea. If he wouldn't even trust Evie, the girl that he loved, with the secret, why he would trust three random strangers?

We're not trying to kill him, Nixie, Lyla murmurs, pushing her fishtail braid to one side, fingering the blonde hair and sitting down on the couch, legs crossed and then shifts them so that her hands are under her knees, pressing down upon the sides of the couch, obviously agitated at the question.

What I don't understand is why you even care about this mortal human boy, Nixie interjects.

Because he's a living person? He has a life, y'know, and if it wasn't for us, he might still have his normal human life, Lyla only replies, in a softer tone, as though she's trying to guard something. Sirena hopes that for the sake of getting back to the Pod, for the sake of keeping the friendship between the three of them somewhat stable, that Lyla hadn't developed something akin to 'feelings' for this human boy; after all, it would never work out.

Wait, so now you're saying that it's our fault for this mess? Nixie says, hands placed on her hips — her tone is angry, and the subtle undertones of confusion, coming together, as if she knows what's going in the situation, more than all of them.

Well, it practically is, y'know, since we were the ones who were goofing around when we were supposed to be guarding the Moon Pool and guarding the Pod, so if we're playing 'the blame-game' here, then yes, technically, it is our fault, Sirena buts into the situation, reminding that them that she is still here, and that they have more important things to do than fight about boys. They have their family to get back to.

Stop defending Zac, both of you. Have both of you lost your sanity? He's the reason the Pod disowned us, and he's the reason we lost them, Nixie reminds the two of them, and then an uncomfortable silence settles over the room; Sirena fingers the shells of her bracelet, and slides it off, placing it on the faded mahogany corner, next to a package of vintage photographs, the envelope seal half-open, and remembers that they're not going to be here for long. There's no reason at all to get attached to this town.

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The three of them find themselves eating a quick breakfast at the beach-themed café in the center of town, as Rita had to leave early for something akin to school board meetings; Sirena spoons a savory flavor of ice cream, ignoring all the looks that she gets as she mixes it with guacamole, ignoring traditional breakfast options such as pancakes and maple syrup, or something like that. Wait, so there's a new suspect in town —

Stop being a dumb blonde, Sirena, keep up. Zac's dad is teaching some organic chemistry class at the school, and Principal Santos got us two seats, so you and I can go, and Lyla can investigate whatever's going on with Zac's powers, Nixie says, plunging her fork and knife into waffles, awkwardly struggling with the utensils, and then deciding to eat the sticky food with her fingers.

I never even knew we were enrolled in the school. Why are we even going to normal human school, anyways? Mermaid school was bad enough, Sirena acknowledges, shuddering at the memories of having to memorize several incantations; the repetitive factor wasn't the only horrible part of it, and as soon as the Pod had deserted the three of them, it had been the only benefit that came to mind. Normal human high school was a million times worse — nothing made sense, people kept all of their materials in spaces called lockers, and sprung up from one class to another every fifty minutes or so, as though that would be the best learning environment to focus within.

We have to find out a way to get close to Zach, and obviously, the party plan last weekend didn't work, Lyla says; it had partly been her fault, anyway, and Sirena thinks that it's nice how her friend is somewhat apologizing for her actions last weekend, even if they weren't completely intentional. The party had been a disaster, and the three of them needed to find a way to fix the situation — fast. The full moon was in a week, anyways, and it wouldn't be long before Zac mastered the extent of his newfound powers.

Can I get you anything to drink? Carly walks by, blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, her tone slightly annoyed; she gives a glare to Sirena, almost of warding her off of something, and Sirena's only confused by the entire situation.

Nothing, we're fine, Lyla comments, stacking her plates in a pile and wiping her mouth with a napkin hurriedly, ignoring the look that Carly gives Lyla, and remembers how Evie and Carly were something akin to 'best friends', and both of them had been at the party last week to witness the awkward encounter between her and Zac.

As soon as Carly leaves, Nixie gives a pointed glare to Sirena, who notices David looking at her briefly out of the corner of her eye, and smiles broader than usual. Not you too, Sirena. Having one lovesick idiot was already bad enough, but now you're fawning over a human boy? Well, at least you have better taste than Lyla.

What's that supposed to mean? Lyla interjects, and Sirena sighs; it's as though the three of them could never live for an entire day on this shore without Nixie and Lyla getting into fights, nevertheless, over completely trivial matters.

Well, even though David might not be the best fish out of the sea, Nixie replies, but at least he's single. Believe me, if we're trying to get close to Zac, Lyla, you might want to get rid of the homewrecker reputation that you've established?

Homewrecker? I don't even like Zach - he's obnoxious and rude, and completely selfish, Lyla declares, but her words don't fool anyone.

From hate to dislike, dislike to distrust, distrust to amusement, amusement to friendship, friendship to interest, interest to jealousy, jealousy to love; you're only wasting your time, Lyla, Nixie remarks, giving a pointed glare to the other side of the room where Evie and Zac sit, fingers entwined tightly, obvious fondness for one another between the two of them.

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I really don't understand why we have to go to human school in the first place, Lyla. How exactly is this going to get us close to Zac? Nixie mutters; a backpack is slinging off of her left shoulder, and a kid shoves her — she immediately shoves him back, and gives an annoyed glare towards Lyla who places an innocent expression upon her face.

Trust me, guys. I know that my last plan didn't go . . . too well, but I've planned out this. Zac has an open this hour, so he'll probably be either in the gym or the canteen; I'll find him. Meanwhile, the two of you need to keep Cam and Evie distracted so that they don't suspect anything and try finding Zac. Think that the two of you can manage that?

I think that I can manage normal human high school, Lyla, Nixie points out. I've done far harder and far worse than being around a bunch of obnoxious, smelly, and loud teenagers. It was true; the three of them had been there for each other, worked together to try to bring the Pod back, gone through losing their entire family (but they still had each other, so it was sort of okay), and more.

You're a teenager, Sirena reminds Nixie — though the three of them, especially Nixie, sometimes acted as though they were old and wise beyond their ages, she still had to remember that they had only lived for around sixteen years on this planet. They weren't the oldest people in the world; everybody else in this high school was around the same age of them, so maybe it wasn't right to act as though they were better than all of these humans.

I'm a mermaid, Nixie corrects. You are too, and we're different from the rest of them. Perhaps the words seem like a correction, but Sirena feels as though it's more of a reminder, to remember their identity, to remember their mission.

The two of them walk into the classroom somewhat awkwardly, and grab seats near the back of the room, immediately spotting Cam and Evie who are busy in some sort of friendly banter, but the room falls silent as the teacher walks in. Nixie, Sirena murmurs softly enough for barely anybody (who cares) to here, doesn't the teacher look awfully familiar?

No, Nixie replies, and be quiet. We can't be seen talking - they'll throw us out of the class, and then we'll be responsible for the failure of this plan. Sirena scrawls out words on a note instead, stabbing her pencil into the pencil sharpener and ignoring the annoying sounds that it makes; now and then, the teacher looks up at them, obviously perturbed, but Sirena makes use of her cherubic, angelic features and instead gives an innocent grin that causes the teacher to look away from the situation.

Really, Nixie, just look at him, she mutters in Nixie's ear, pushing their desks slightly closer together.

He's the teacher; of course I'm looking at him - and why wouldn't he look familiar? After all, he is Zac's dad.

Yes, I know that, I'm not saying that he looks like Zac's dad, but he looks like the man in that picture that Rita showed us - the man that she had fallen in love with but then she had to give up that relationship because he found that she was a mermaid, and didn't want anything to do with her? Look; he has the same blue eyes, the same blonde hair —

Nixie rolls her eyes, replying quickly, Yes, he has blonde hair and blue eyes and so does ninety percent of this repetitive male population of humans. I'm pretty sure that there are millions of these replicas. Your qualities only bring us down to, uh, maybe fifty percent of the population? Remember our goal, though; don't get distracted.

Class, today we're going to work on a 'Bag-o-Gas' lab, Mr. Blakely announces; he pinches the bridge of his nose, and slides on a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, glancing around the room; packets of papers are sent back, and Sirena looks down in confusion at the terminology that doesn't seem anything like the organic chemistry terms that Nixie and her had prepped for. Because today's the first day of class, you can pick your own lab partners. And the lab starts . . . now. You have forty-five minutes to collect all of your data, and the lab write-up should be put on my desk before tomorrow afternoon.

I thought that this was organic chemistry, Sirena says, picking up the lab equipment from a pile on the center counter, fumbling with the cylinders and the beakers, trying not to break the delicate glass containers.

No, this is chemistry, Nixie corrects, beginning honors chemistry, if I'm not mistaken. Which, of course, I'm not. We're going to have to take the class this week, and then probably next week to get closer to Zac and Cam, or whoever else he's spilled the beans to.

Cam nears closer to their lab table, and Sirena and Nixie try putting on the lab goggles, to no avail at first, but finally manage to put on the bulky equipment upon their eyes, and smile at the two people who face them — Cam and Evie, one looking slightly less reluctant and happy about this situation than the other. So, do you guys want to have the weighing machine first? Nixie offers, her blue eyes glistening with deceit. It's to the point where it's not even subtle anymore.

Sure, why not? Cam replies, and the four of them carry on in silence.

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What is that smell? Sirena murmurs half-way into the lab, as she slides her goggles onto the top of her head, and then pulls them back on due to a stern glare from Mr. Blakely who points to a sign at the front of the classroom which reads 'WEAR YOUR GOGGLES OR END UP BLIND'; Sirena then repeats the statement a second time, saying the words a little louder.

It's methane, Cam replies, almost amused. Methane is the simplest alkaline and the main part of natural gas, a colorless gas that has no smell and that can be burned for fuel; oh, yeah, and if you end up inhaling methane, you can pass out from the stench.

Wait, isn't the smell going to spread to us? Evie questions, immediately picking up her papers and moving to the next lab station over.

Cam grimaces. Yeah, uh, I didn't really think of that.

Of course you don't, Nixie replies, you don't think about anything except what's going to help you.

That's the plan; I only help my friends. And the two of you, you're definitely not my friends. I don't know what you are, and where you even came from; because obviously, the only thing about being the nieces of Principal Santos, it's a big sham. She doesn't have any living relatives — that's why she moved here, to get away from all of her family problems.

I think that I'm going to pass out now, Sirena murmurs, and falls to the tiled floor with a resounding thump.

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(There's a moment of silence, then a knock at the door —

Go get the door, Nixie mumbles, obviously irritated; Sirena tries to bounce off the couch and retain her normal level of enthusiasm. Because, really, as long as everybody thinks that you're happy all the time, you can sometimes even convince yourself that everything's alright, when it's most obviously not; Sirena walks over to the door, and peers through the doorknob to see the familiar mop of floppy brown hair.

She looks back at Nixie and Lyla on the couch, nestled under layers of blankets, Rita pressing cold cloths to their foreheads; the methane had some sort of adverse reaction with their mermaid genes, and somehow, Lyla had been connected to the situation as well, even though she hadn't been at the lab at the time. Guys, it's David - I can't open the door; he'll see us!

Or he'll see you? Nixie retorts. Just open the door, Sirena. Sirena takes a deep breath (and wonders why she actually cares so much about how David sees her) and opens the doorknob; David holds a large box in his hand, probably from the shop in town, and his energetic blue eyes and contagious blue smile are just as normal as usual.

I look like a mess, Sirena mumbles, trying to place the cloth over her eyes which are completely crusted over; her nose is red and blotchy, and her hair is tied up in a frazzled bun which doesn't seem to keep its usual shine. She thinks that the last time she looked — and felt — so worse was when the three of them had lost the Pod, and she had lost her sister, Aquata. You probably shouldn't come in, David, uh, there's this flu epidemic around town, apparently . . . she trails off uncomfortably, her hands crossed around her waist, legs pressed together.

You don't look like a mess; you look really pretty, actually, David murmurs with that easy-going, charismatic smile that Sirena thinks made her fall in love with him in the first place; there's just something about him that feels like 'everything's going to be alright'. Anyways, I have to come in — Principal Santos ordered boxes and boxes of seafood, and I need her to sign the bill, so . . . he trails off uncomfortably, running his fingers through his hair.

Sirena smiles. Okay, she says, come on in, David.

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this is for coppertone wars' twelve days of christmas challenge, level six, part four! please leave a review xx