Doing stakeouts were particularly boring, especially when there was no one around to entertain you.

Tim had been experiencing this notion firsthand for the last week. For the last seven days, he’d been coming to the docks, settling upon whatever crate caught his fancy, then hunkering down with keen eyes. Watching the water. Constantly.

Well, to be fair, Tim probably wouldn’t have believed himself either. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d spend his nights hunting mermaids, he probably would’ve laughed in their face.

But… here he was. He wasn’t particularly proud of it, but he was convinced.

It all started two weeks ago. After a particularly rough control, he’d swung down to the docks and collected himself by the water, bandaging some injuries and icing some bruises. That’s when he saw it. Not just a ripple in the water— but a whole head. Just staring at him from maybe halfway out from the shore, eyes glowing in the dark like a cat’s.

It scared the shit out of him— rightfully, Tim would’ve argued. And by the time Tim was done nearly falling over in surprise, his ocean stalker was gone. The only thing Tim saw was a tail slipping back into the water, then it was quiet.

That night was the earliest Tim had gone to bed ever, since he went straight home, convinced he was hallucinating. And just to prove it to himself, he checked his mask the next morning. All of their masks had a recording feature, like a police’s body-cam— Tim always kept his on, just in case he wanted to look over a night’s activities. So, uploading the patrol’s footage to his computer, he skipped right to when he was at the docks.

Sure enough, everything Tim thought he’d seen was reflected in video. The head, then the tail. It was even more clear when being filmed by a steadfast camera, not being viewed by a frazzled human.

Tim mulled this information over for two days. Was he actually considering this? Mer… people? It was insane. Stupid. But he kept opening his computer and staring at the video.

For a long story short, Tim rented out some mythology books that may or may not have contained lore about mermaids from the library.

He’d spent the rest of that week reading up on as much as he could, which didn’t get him too far. There were so many conflicting myths regarding merpeople, that Tim ended up with more contradictions than facts. So, he decided that there was only one way to figure this thing out. A more… hands-on approach.

Which was what brought Tim to his current nightly activities; skipping a good half of his usual patrol in favour of hunting merpeople. God, Bruce would kill him if he ever found out…

As much as Tim denied it, he knew how bad his tunnel vision could get when he was focused on a case. And damn if he wasn’t obsessive over this. Tim loved himself a good mystery. And this was sure a puzzle if he’d ever seen one. His only problem was the fact that he’d been supervising the docks for a week, with no further sightings.

It had yet to deter Tim, but it was certainly grating on his nerves. Sighing, Tim popped open a bag of chips he’d brought, and cracked his neck. He settled into a comfortable sitting position on his crate of choice for this night, then set his eyes on the water. Time for another long night.