Parley Oneshots

Blue Gills

"Ah... no. You're coming back with me. How long can you be out of water?" He wondered, pen poised over his notebook.

"I dunno, maybe like... six hours, at the most?" Peter shrugged. "Haven't bothered to test that before."

"Right..." Harley sighed.

"Wait, why did you ask?" The siren asked nervously.

"Well, I need to have a tank system installed, don't I?" Peter tilted his head curiously. "I'm a scientist. And you're going to be my new study subject! So... I need to have you confined so you can't run- or, er, swim away." Peter shrunk back in fear, a soft whimper escaping his lips. "But I'm not going to dissect you or anything, I promise. Just a study, and then I'll set you free."

"Do I get a choice?"

"Nope! Pretty sure you don't even have rights, seeing as sirens are viewed as a direct threat to humanity," Harley shrugged, somewhat pitiful for the young creature. He genuinely did feel bad for Peter, but on the other hand... this could be the scientific breakthrough he'd been looking for. He couldn't afford to miss this opportunity.

"Look, I'm not a monster or anything. I said I plan on setting you free afterwards, and I'm not a liar." Peter let out a sigh, shoulders deflating.

"Yeah, alright. I guess," he mumbled half-heartedly. Harley smiled, nodding as he untied the young siren.

"Again, wasn't asking, but glad you and I can see eye to eye." Peter let out a soft huff, royal blue gills flaring out before returning to normal. Harley was fascinated, scribbling something down in his notebook. The siren glanced over quickly, eyebrows furrowing.

"What are you doing?" Harley looked up, tilting his head slightly.

"Taking notes," he answered bluntly.

"Can I see?" Harley paused for a moment, before shrugging.

"I guess." He turned the notebook around so that Peter could see. His brown doe eyes were wide with amazement as he reached out to touch it, only to have Harley pull it away quickly.

"You'll get the pages wet!" The scientist exclaimed, Peter shying away at the mild outburst.

"Sorry..." He mumbled. Harley sighed, shoulders slumping.

"No... it's ok, I just really need this research to stay in good condition. The water might make it smudge or rip," he explained.

"Oh. What do the little markings mean?" Peter wondered. Harley furrowed his eyebrows, showing Peter the notebook paper again.

"You can't read this?" He asked, pointing at a bullet point. Peter shook his head, eyes wide and innocent. Harley wrote down another note, before setting the book aside. "Are all sirens illiterate? Or just you?"

"Why would I need to know how to read? I live underwater, it's not like anybody is taking notes like you do!" Peter exclaimed, raising up his arms. Harley silently noted the uneven patterning of scales and skin that covered his arms.

"I suppose you're right."

"But you could teach me...?" Peter suggested, offering a shy smile. Harley raised an eyebrow, humming monotonously.