II

o0o0o0o

"She's my siren," Arlong hissed as Hatchan stepped between his captain and his friend.

"Are you sure?" his longtime friend asked with puzzlement.

Arlong looked past Hatchan's shoulder, where the woman was staring back at him. He wanted nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder, bring her back to his bed, and claim her as his.

What the hell. It couldn't be, could it? She might have helped his crew, but she was human. He shouldn't be attracted to a human, especially to this degree.

"I don't know what the fuck else it could be," the sharkman said with a low snarl. Hatchan gave out a surprised 'nyu'.

"Then perhaps in that case it's best to not scare her off?" the octopus man whispered. "Take a bit of time and…"

Yes. If she was out of sight, he could collect his wits about him. It would do him no good to lose his mind. "You are correct, Hachi," he said begrudgingly, grateful for the octopus man's intervention. "We'll have a nice dinner tonight, now that you got all these provisions. Pick a few helpers, we haven't had a feast in a while. We can celebrate the health of our crew."

Hatchan grinned and nodded before he turned to Yolande, relaying the offer. Arlong watched her, gauging her reaction. She stared at him, and he could not help but puff his chest a bit as she accepted the invitation. She retreated down the pier, but she looked over her shoulder a couple of times, and Arlong found himself wanting to drag her back.

o0o0o0o

Arlong, Arlong, Arlong. Curious name, but it wasn't familiar to her. Yolande walked home in what felt like a haze, her brain foggy as she tried to divert it from Arlong. She could almost feel the power rippling from his form and wondered what it would feel like to have that pressed against her.

Her detractors liked to say she was not a pious widow and well… damnit, she had needs. It'd been a while, but even that didn't explain the heat between her and Arlong. She remembered how her name had rumbled out of his mouth, and the way his grin was filled with hunger.

By the time she got home, she was feeling somewhat more clear-headed. What was she to do if she got the same reaction tonight after seeing him again? Damn. She needed to distract herself. And she knew just how to do that.

The smell of warm pastries filled the small kitchen as they sat to cool, and Lena greeted her as she walked through the door with her baby strapped to her back. Yolande smiled and turned toward her stepdaughter, having already set aside a batch for her to enjoy. The pastries were filled with various fruit preserves, and she was certain the fishmen would like them. It'd be a nice treat to send them off with, and cooking and baking had always been a welcome distraction when something was weighing heavily upon her mind.

The woven basket was slung across her back, filled with pastries carefully layered between paper. Hachi was there at the bottom of the gangplank to greet her, but she was already aware of Arlong's presence, barely affording the octopus man a glance before she looked up at the ship. Illuminated with several lamps and the light of the late afternoon sun, she recognized Arlong's silhouetted form. A thrill passed through her.

"And what are those?" Hachi asked. She almost didn't hear him and forced her attention to the octopus man.

"I did some baking this afternoon and thought that if you were going to feed me dinner, perhaps I'd bring dessert?" she offered. "Or was that presumptuous of me?"

"No, no! They smell fantastic and I can't wait to try one! Hey, guys! She brought pastries! Freshly baked!" This was met with a cheer from several fishmen. Hachi laughed and led her up the ramp, helping her to ease the basket off her back and carrying it into the mess hall, where an assortment of food sat out in the relative warmth of the space.

"Oh, that's good!" Hachi exclaimed as he popped one of the flaky confections in his mouth. Shioyaki reached for one and nodded in approval as he bit into it. "We appreciate the medical treatment you gave our fellows. We didn't expect a treat, too," the salmon fishman said with a small laugh. Many fishmen still kept their distance from her, but there were a few to keep her company as she sampled Hachi's cooking, complimenting him.

She'd dressed warmly and professionally, clad in light boots with jeans and a jacket. But even out in the cold, she felt the heat of Arlong's presence. He watched her as she moved around, talking with Hachi or Kaneshiro, enjoying some more of the octopus man's cooking, and smiling in relief as she saw Chew. The big-lipped fishman blinked in surprise as he saw her, and she waved at him. "It's good to see you out of bed. I'm glad I could help you."

He lifted his hand in a tentative wave, seeming to be mildly confused before comprehension dawned upon him, and he looked down almost shyly. Hatchan talked with her a bit more as they stood outside, enjoying some drinks while staring at the colors of the afternoon sky while some other fishmen played a game on the deck. Spirits seemed to be pretty good, and she was sincerely happy about that.

No one was perfect, and there were many gods in the world, but the one thing she believed in – or at least hoped was real – was karma. People made mistakes, but she tried her best to learn from them and when she had the chance, she did good for other people. Sometimes that good karma found its way back to her. Even if it didn't, it was still nice to do good because as she knew from painful experience, the world was a pretty shitty place already.

"What was that limerick you told Hachi earlier?" one of the other fishmen asked.

Yolande grinned at that.

"There was once a lady who begat

Three brats named Nat, Pat, and Tat

Plenty of fun to be had in the breeding

But there was hell in the feeding

When there was no tit for Tat."

Several fishmen shared a good guffaw at that and Hachi slapped his knee.

"It's just as funny hearing it again! Do you have more?" the octopus man asked.

"A young psychic midget named Marge

Went to jail on a serious charge.

But despite lock and key

The lady broke free

And the News said Small Medium at Large."

After that, she provided a couple of jokes and it turned out Shioyaki had a few zingers of his own, and then Ishidai stepped in with a rauunchy joke. This was much livelier than any social gathering she'd ever been to in town.

"It's been a while since I laughed this hard," Hatchan said, wheezing as he wiped his face.

"Me too, my stomach hurts from laughing," Yolande chuckled as she leaned against the railing, sipping her drink. She giggled sharply and took several breaths before she scanned the deck, seeing Arlong on the other side, looking at her, his collar pulled up against the cold breeze.

The captain mostly kept his distance, but it seemed like no matter where she went, she was kept firmly in his sights. Part of her wanted to approach him, but the maelstrom of sensations and feelings she felt seemed to intensify every time that passed her mind. She might have thought she was drugged, but there certainly were no drugs involved earlier when she met Arlong for the first time, or before she ate any of Hatchan's cooking.

"Hachi… is there something going on with your captain?" she asked delicately as she sipped from the bottle of sake she'd been offered.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She was certain he knew what was going on but was afraid to approach the subject. She tilted her head as she looked at him, and he stared back at her, his lips set in a perfect O before he gulped down his drink.

"I- "How did she explain this when she'd never experienced this around anyone else before in her life? Was this some fishman thing? "I don't-" She sighed in frustration, feeling the heat rise in her neck. For a moment she wondered if she'd caught something from Chew or one of the others and was now experiencing the onset of symptoms? There had been a certain fog nagging at her subconscious since her earlier encounter with Arlong. But she'd been able to distract herself and focus on other things. Now it was coming back in full force.

Or full heat seemed to be the more accurate description of it. Her mind flitted to the possibility of a hot flash, but instinct told her otherwise.

"Yolande." Arlong's voice came from behind her, and she gasped quietly before turning around to see him. Less than half a meter sat between them, and she looked up at him, the planes of his face illuminated by the low-hanging sun and giving his cool skin a warm tint.

It felt like the heat was pulling her forward. She stared up into these gorgeous blue eyes. The heat became electric, and she heard a low rumble come from somewhere. It took her a couple of moments to realize that it was coming from deep within Arlong's throat.

The instinctual part of her brain told her that this was not a sound of threat or aggression, but it was still startling to hear. As she heard it, it tickled that part of her brain even as she took a step back, seeing Hatchan and several other fishmen stare at them with curiosity, confusion, and anticipation. What was going on here? What exactly had she stepped into? The rational and wary part of her mind told her that she was a lone woman on a ship full of lonely men and that she had made a gross miscalculation in coming here.

Would she be able to fight past a sharkman that was a couple of heads taller than her – and from the looks of his muscle mass, he weighed at least twice what she did? She looked back up at Arlong, and he let out a grin that was full of hunger. He intended to devour her, and another growl burst from his throat.

Her growl was softer and more high-pitched, but it purred out of her throat. She wasn't sure exactly what the fuck she was doing, but he was growling at her, so she did it right back to him, because who the hell did he think he was?

Her ruminations were interrupted as he scooped her up in one arm, and a surprised gasp broke from her throat as she found herself pressed between his chest and forearm. She should have fought, but she felt almost paralyzed as she registered the solidness of his form and the bulge of his bicep. She reached to hook one hand around his shoulder for balance, and she noticed that no one made a move to stop the captain, not even Hatchan, as he entered his cabin, slamming the door behind him.

Her heat-addled brain understood what was going to happen next, and she wanted it. She barely registered the surroundings of the room as she was dumped onto the messy bed. "Arlong!" she growled as she righted herself, sitting with her legs dangling over the side of the bed.

"My siren." His eyes glinted fiercely as he looked down at her, leaning in and grabbing her chin. She'd heard of the mythical creatures before, mermaids or sea nymphs who lured sailors and fishermen to their beds, or their deaths. Depending on the version, often both, much like a black widow. But it was so pleasing when he said it.

"Mmm. Yes. Your siren," she purred agreeably.

(this scene has been cut to conform to the standards of this site. The full version can be read at my AO3 (same username) Enjoy!

Human boys – and men – fantasized about having their princess. Their stories were full of lads going on journeys and becoming heroes and gaining the hands of beautiful princesses or queens in marriage, or even taking a fairy or goddess as a wife. For a fishman, it was a siren. Like a beautiful and sweet ethereal maiden, such creatures were rare. The humans had their version of the siren story, about mermaids luring in sailors. Such trite garbage, humans twisting around something precious to fishmen.

A siren was meant to be a fishman's greatest treasure. It was said that a siren could bring out the best in her mate, giving him strength not only in bed but out of it. Fishman lore had a few tales of such mythical creatures, lovers and advisers, protected and guarded by their fishmen.

He had never had the expectation of finding one. It was the stuff of myth, and prideful and arrogant as he might be, he was not so pompous as to think that fate would hand him a siren, not when he wasn't even sure such a thing existed. Yet, here he was. He might have dismissed the afternoon with her as a way to release his pent-up lust, a desperate biological need to release his long-repressed load in the nearest willing partner. But the way she responded to him left him no doubt that she felt the connection, as well.

But of course, Fate was a capricious bitch. His siren was half-human. He stared at the form sprawled out on his sheets. The only sure giveaway was her gills. Her skin was a few shades off – not quite pale, but cooler than most human skin colors, yet not so out of the norm as to draw more than a passing glance. Some might write it off as her being ill. Freckles dappled her shoulders and upper arms along with the intact skin on her back. Her thick, dark wavy hair was free of its ponytail, framing her face in a rumpled mess.

Fuck. The last year had been a long, bitter lesson. Hadn't he been through enough? He looked down at her and felt the warmth rise in his belly as he thought of the passion they'd just shared. The way she screamed out for more, or said his name in varying tones – a heated whisper, a fierce moan, an impassioned shriek – or the way she clung to him, opening up to him every time he wanted to penetrate her.

Well. Sirens were rare enough, and there was no denying the pleasure to be derived from this one. He started getting dressed, further sliding out of the haze of rut that had sparked when they were growling at one another outside. She could rest, and he would figure out what to do with this change in circumstances.

He had a mate, a siren now. Many fishmen wished for one. Arlong had never expected one, and Yolande had practically fallen into her lap. He laughed quietly to himself as he closed the door behind him and made his way out onto the deck, well aware of the curious glances several of his men directed at him. They had heard her screams and his growls and undoubtedly had questions burning at the tips of their tongues.

"Shahahahahaha!" he let out a triumphant bellow. That was ample commentary on the matter.