The sunset made everything glow gold. Clark almost even allowed himself to be entranced by the majesty of the geese floating by, occasionally stretching and flapping their wings as they made their way to the shore of the large lagoon for bed.

The only thing stopping him was the knowledge of just how much pride those damn birds took in being assholes.

But everything other than the geese was bathed in a golden, ethereal light that made him want to stay out on his boat forever.

The sun's reflection made it look like thousands of tiny stars were dancing across the rippling water, making him feel like even the lagoon was enjoying the sunset.

And then the geese all started honking and the moment was over. The last little ray of sunshine slipped out of sight and the air temperature dropped a few degrees.

"Great. Yeah, thanks. Damn birds." He grumbled, turning his attention back to what he'd been doing before he got distracted; hauling up the anchor.

His fishing boat wasn't very big, not that it needed to be, but it had a roof and three walls surrounding the wheel which made it able to be used in the sun or the rain. Clark had had it since he'd bought it from a neighbor when he was sixteen. He and Pa had spent nearly a year fixing it up and making sure she was able to float before putting her in the lagoon at the bottom of their property.

As he worked to store the anchor, he heard the geese flock start honking again. A few of them angrily beat their wings against the water's surface.

Clark squinted in the dimming light, trying to see what had set them off. Maybe a water snake?

The geese settled down again, tucking their wings against their backs and paddling towards the shore. They were almost there, and Clark had almost lost interest, when a goose was suddenly yanked underwater with a strangled, guttural sound that sent chills down his spine.

The rest of the flock scattered, honking and flapping in terror, but Clark's gaze was on the large, dark, spiked dorsal fin that slipped beneath the surface.

There was a mer in the lagoon.

Yyyyy

"Are you sure it's alone?" Jimmy asked, swiping a fry out of Clark's to-go box.

Clark nodded, pushing the rest of his food over to the redhead. "I checked on it all weekend. The lagoon is pretty big, so I can't be certain, but I know I've only seen the one."

"Hmm. That's not good, then. And it's not stuck?"

"No. The lagoon is fed by the ocean. The inlet dries up in low tide, but he can easily swim back out in high tide. Which is how I think he got in in the first place." He sipped his coffee in thought. "Exactly how 'not good' are we talking about?"

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder to their boss's office, making sure they weren't being watched, before he opened an internet search tab and brought up a website focusing on mer behavior.

"Mers live in pods. They're very social creatures and don't do well with isolation. If yours is alone, that means it was either abandoned by it's pod, most likely due to food scarcity or aggression, or it's pod was killed by something."

"What if it's just lost? Like how dolphins sometimes end up in rivers?"

Jimmy shook his head. "If he's not trying to look for them, then I doubt it."

"How bad is it if he really is alone?"

"Ehh. My advice? Don't get attached. Mers are very territorial, so he won't be able to be introduced to a new pod. I've never heard of one surviving on its own for very long. The isolation leads to depression, which leads to lethargy. They have harder times catching prey, which causes their scales to fade, which makes blending in to their environments even harder. Before you know it, malnutrition sets in and they're gone."

Clark frowned. The mer he'd seen had deep, black scales and long, flowing fins. There had been white speckles along his dorsal fin and down his sides, but he didn't think those were from the scales fading.

"So, you're saying I might just have to watch him die? There's nothing I can do?"

Jimmy popped the last fry into his mouth and threw out the box, dusting off his hands. "That's nature for you. It sucks, but sometimes there's just nothing you can do."

Clark nodded absently. And then pulled out his day planner. The next weekend was only a few days away, and he was going to be spending it at his parents's farm again.

Maybe there was nothing he could do, but maybe there was something.

Yyyyy

Clark sat on the deck of his boat, scanning the water. It had been ten minutes, and he hadn't seen a single trace of their guest. His parents had been fascinated by the news that a lone mer was living in their lagoon, but the trail down from the house was too steep for either of them to attempt anymore so he was on his own.

Thankful for his gloves, Clark pulled another dead trout out of the cooler beside him and threw it over the side of the boat. It landed with a splash.

"What are you doing?"

Clark paused, hand in the bucket for another fish.

Right in front of him in the water was the mer. He looked to be about Clark's age, with hair as black as his tail.

"Uh, hi." Okay, so maybe Clark hadn't quite thought out what exactly he was going to say, but he hadn't quite considered that his plan might actually work.

The mer tilted his head slightly, looking unimpressed. "Yes. Hello. What are you doing?"

"Oh! You mean the fish? I got them for you. You know. Just in case you were hungry."

The mer raised an eyebrow. "You… got me dead fish. Because you thought I was hungry."

Clark felt all kinds of awkward. "Is… is that wrong? I've never actually met a mer before."

"And you thought we ate… old, dead fish."

Clark knew his face was red, but he decided to just clear his throat and continue with the conversation as best he could.

"Well, what do you eat, then?"

The mer flicked his tail in growing annoyance, but didn't leave.

"Um, where are you from?"

The mer glanced sarcastically down at the water.

"Are… are you alone?"

That got a reaction. The mer narrowed his eyes in a sharp glare and slapped his tail against the water, splashing Clark.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. I was just concerned. I heard that mers need a pod."

"Do I look like I need a pod?"

He really didn't. He was well built, with clearly toned muscles. Not at all like the image of lone mers Jimmy had described.

"Well, no. I guess not. But, I take it that means you are alone?"

"What do you want?" The mer was obviously growing annoyed, and Clark didn't want to risk chasing him off.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to be friends?"

"..."

"I don't really have any friends outside of work," As evidenced by the fact he spent most of his weekends at his parents' farm, "and thought you might like some company."

The mer stared at him for a beat longer, as if waiting for something.

Finally, though, he let himself relax slightly. "I… wouldn't mind someone to talk to. Just don't throw any more dead fish at me, okay?"

Clark grinned and chuckled. "Deal. Sorry about that. What should I bring next time?"

"Uh, nothing? I'm perfectly capable of hunting for myself."

"Okay. You don't like others bringing you food. I can respect that. Can I at least know your name?"

"You first." It seemed like the mer was still suspicious of him, but Clark just shrugged it off.

"I'm Clark. Clark Kent."

The mer looked Clark over a few times, visibly deliberating. Finally, though, he made up his mind and spoke. "Bruce."