{“Hi there,

I think we may have possibly seen each other at the speed-date a few weeks ago, but I didn’t end up at your table. I’m not sure how cultured I am, having never left this city, but as for intellectual conversation I’m happy to oblige. Love is perhaps a bit too fast for me, but I’m happy to have a bit of fun and see where it goes?

Zinnia”}

Manfish kept looking at the email on his phone and smiling. Well, his lips stretched up into a smile-like entity that didn't show his razor-sharp teeth. She'd seen him already, and yet...she contacted him? He knew she couldn't possibly have mistaken him for someone else because as far as he knew, he was the only fish-man in the state of New York. 

Sure, she wasn't looking for "love" per se, but...she wanted a date, and that was something. If nothing else, it was a data entry in his log book for later tonight. And this experiment wasn't going to be worth anything if he didn't have any data. Data yields results. 

So, that's why a giant fish-man was sitting in a coffee shop alone, at four in the afternoon. He was waiting on this Zinnia woman. She had a lovely name, he had to admit; it was different. Exotic sounding, even.  He paused for a moment as a thought hit him.

What if she just wants to try out her fish jokes?

Well...if she did, that would suck. But...a data entry was a data entry was a freaking data entry. And if she did want to be mean, then that meant the scales tipped in favor of his hypothesis. If he was right, he was right, and if he was wrong, he had a girlfriend. So with his experiment...he couldn't lose!

Zinnia felt somewhat silly turning to a dating website to try and sort out her feelings, but the internet had otherwise been distinctly less than helpful. She’d found one or two self-help boards, but they seemed to be rife with trolls, fishing for people to mock. There was also the porn, which she shied away from, she just wasn’t ready to go that far in the name of science. So, a dating website it was. She filtered by the keyword ‘mutant’ and immediately deleted all with a ‘no’ in front of the word, she scrolled through profile after profile, many with pictures, equally many with the stock silhouette of a person’s head. She filtered by seeking, but not by gender. It was only fair.

One or two piqued her interest from the description, but it was not really the sort of thing you could figure out over a computer screen. She sent out her first tentative email, to someone she was sure she had seen before, because how many fish men could there be in the state of New York?

{“Hi there,
I think we may have possibly seen each other at the speed-date a few weeks ago, but I didn’t end up at your table. I’m not sure how cultured I am, having never left this city, but as for intellectual conversation I’m happy to oblige. Love is perhaps a bit too fast for me, but I’m happy to have a bit of fun and see where it goes?
Zinnia”}

She felt just the tiniest twinge of guilt when she sent it. Which was really unfounded.

~~~

The coffee shop was one she had been to before, but not one of her regular stops. It was a safe place to meet a stranger, well-lit streets even at night, close to a police station, but not so close that the sirens would be any more distracting than the general New York background noise. Her housemates knew where she was going, and when she expected to be back. She wasn’t an idiot. She had done this before. Just, perhaps not with the same intention.

She laid eyes on him as soon as she stepped in to the establishment, he was impossible to miss. She might be a little less obvious, lingering in the door way, so she gave a little wave before she went to order her coffee. This was a situation that called for the full-strength stuff, no decaf today (not that she ever drank decaf). She collected her drink and moved to sit in the chair opposite.

“Hi, I’m Zinnia. Nice to meet you.”

Oh god, was she doing the right thing? He was a fair bit older than her. And a fish. Still, she must push on, for science!

His solid black eyes remained focused on the door as he sipped a very large cup of coffee. After a few minutes, a woman walked in, waved, and introduced herself. She was young, but he had to admit, as pretty as her name implied. She was bright and cheerful, which was a plus. This was for science, his first true love, but nice people made this experiment much more enjoyable. Unlike the majority of that speed-dating fiasco. The mere thought made him shudder. But that was not the focus of today. The focus was the leg of the experiment at hand.

"Pleasure to meet you. You may call me Dr. Fishman, or Manfish, if you like, but my birth-given name is Caleb," he replied politely, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth. "Thank you for meeting with me today. I hope your day thus far has gone well," he continued with a slight nod before taking another sip of his coffee.

"So, since this isn't that dreaded speed-dating scene, at least we have all the time in the world. So, tell me a little about yourself." He nodded; his outfit today was a navy blue wetsuit, in the usual 'shorty' style, and it was covered by a black trenchcoat.

She shook the outstretched hand firmly, like she knew was polite. His hand wasn’t exactly soggy, but it wasn’t dry per say. She really hoped it was a side effect of his mutation, and not just really sweaty. It was warmer than she expected though, so that was a nice bonus. His skin was not unlike her brothers snakes, but she didn’t linger on the handshake for too long. His voice was something more like a frog than a fish, but it was pleasant on the ears. Did he have ears? She couldn’t see any. Jacquelyn didn’t have any ears either. But she wasn’t here to think about Jac.

“My day has been pretty good, just got off from the hospital actually. What are you a doctor of? I haven’t seen you there?”

It wasn’t an attempt to call him out. There were several hospitals in New York. Still, she was pretty sure she would have at least heard of a doctor with such a visible mutation. It was a gossiped enough about topic when one of the nurses sported a new tattoo, visible mutations were even more of a hot topic, and she was glad over and over that her mutation was subtle.

“I’m a nurse in training. I’m six months out from my major exams and study with most of my free time. I have two younger brothers. You?”

Her knee length jacket hid her uniform perfectly, falling just below the hem of her navy skirt. The shoes however, were a dead giveaway, the slightest of heels, and built for comfort. Stockings kept her warm against the chill of a Fall afternoon. Her coffee was now cool enough to drink and she took an appreciative sip. Some nurses relied on smoking to get through the seemingly endless hours of blood and guts, but for her it had always been coffee’s sweet call.

"Oh, I'm not an M.D. I'm a PhD," he explained politely. "Marine biology, looking to teach at the Mansion here pretty soon, and I volunteer at the nearby aquarium. They gave me a job while I was working my way through college, so now I return the favor by donating my time and expertise. That, and all of the animals there like me." he chuckled lightly.

"I was an only child. Grew up with a passion for sports and for learning. Took wrestling all through school, but after I started...well, changing, they wouldn't let me compete because my skin has to be damp, making it slippery, which is unfair. After my mutation kicked in, my job scope grew sort of...limited. So, in what spare time I have, I'm an advocate for equal treatment of visible mutants in particular, though my stance is equality for everyone." He gave a small nod, hoping he wasn't talking her ears off already...

Marine Biology, it made so much sense. He could do all the field research easily for sure. Unless that was making an unfair assumption on his mutation. It would suck, though, to be part man, part fish, and not be able to breathe underwater. And he worked at the aquarium to boot. She hadn’t been there in years, maybe not since her tenth birthday. It was a shame, there were plenty of cool things that were still cool even once adulthood was struck. He joked about the animals and she smiled. Could he speak fish? Do fishes even have a language? That would certainly make for an interesting thesis ‘a fish’s opinion’.

The skin thing made sence, and her earlier squeamishness about it being sweat was replaced by a single, lingering word; discharge. She surrepticiously wiped her hand on the napkin in her lap and dipped her head at the acknowledgement of the job market for visible mutants. It would seem that even having a university degree didn’t solve the problem of your skin. Particularly if the colour of said skin happened to be blue. And moist.

“I really appreciate that. I’ve been to the mansion once, to teach a first aid class, it’s amazing how many visible mutants there are kicking about the place. I’m the first in my family, that we know of, but the younglings haven’t hit puberty yet, so they may well come into mutation later. I’ve got it easy, I must say, not having anything to show for it.”

Outwardly that was, on the inside they had been astounded by the MRI printouts, but without a full dissection they were still unsure as to exactly how her lungs worked. She was completely fine with them not knowing, in light of that fact.

Manfish seemed to puff up proudly when he spoke of his work and she had to smile. He was a sweet guy, but so far she was chalking him up as a ‘no’ on the visible mutation tingles front. Friends though, she was down for that.

“So, Manfish, what do you do for fun when you’re not making the world a better place for mutantkind?”

She seemed very nice, at least. Judging by the way she wiped her hand on the napkin, though subtle, he figured maybe his slimy skin was a turn-off. It usually was, sadly. Oh well, at least she was still being polite.

"Yeah, on top of teaching them, I'm hoping I can incorporate my equality platform into my classes. I feel it's a very important issue, this day and age. Maybe I can never guarantee them girlfriends, but...at least I can guarantee them equal opportunities when it comes to education, jobs, housing...that sort of thing."

He paused, thinking a moment. "I'm usually working in some way, between teaching, the aquarium, and doing independent research and experiments at my own leisure. But when not doing any of that, diving is one of my favorite past-times. Being able to breathe underwater, and being part fish allows me to stay down longer and achieve deeper depths than normal."

Equality had been an important issue for decades, it was when people started wanting more equality than others that there came a problem. Teaching about it, and how to go about getting it properly was an important thing to be teaching the younger generations for sure. The girlfriend comment was a little sad, but then again, they had met thanks to a dating website, after first setting eyes on each other at a speed dating event. Perhaps she was giving off the wrong impression. Perhaps that was ok? No-one was exactly who they said on their dating profile, right?

His description of deep diving almost made her giggle, almost. But he had said intelligent conversation in his profile, so she held in back to a simple momentarily quirked eyebrow, before bringing it back to maturity.

“That’s pretty cool, I imagine you’d save a bunch on gear too.”

From what she knew scuba tank refills were a pain in the butt, and the goggles would surely have to be custom made to fit his head. It was wise to take up hobbies suited to your mutation.

“I swim a bit, but all chlorine for me, I’m too scared of sharks.”

They were alright enough in tanks, when they couldn’t nibble on any toes, but out in the big blue, that was a nope. She sipped her coffee again while she debated explaining that he was interesting and funny, but unfortunately a test.

“Speaking of experiments… I’ve got a bit of a confession. I came today to see if it was visible mutations that got me gping, so to speak, because I had reconciled myself with not being attracted to anyone and then… and then I was.”

And she was a visible mutant. The most visible she had ever seen, except perhaps for Manfish himself.

“I’m sorry if I led you on at all.”

Which she totally had. And she totally was. But science!

He smiled at her confession. "Small world," he murmured, looking at her. "Obviously, I have an interest in women. But...well, I am convinced that they have no interest in me, so...being the mind that I am, set up an experiment of my own. To support or deny my hypothesis, I put up dating profiles and put myself in various dating situations to see if this is true."

When he paused, he took another sip of his coffee, draining the large cup. "And so...as it turns out we are subjects in each others' research. I would hope that after this we can at least consider ourselves friends, or acquaintances," he replied with another soft nod, adjusting his goggle-glasses a little.

She chuckled. So, they were equally not what they seemed. It was fitting really.

“I’m not sure it’s so obvious for me. I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve had girlfriends and this new interest is currently just a friend. And a mutant. So much so that there’s nothing visible at all… Down there.”

Was that too much info for a total stranger? Probably. But he was a scientist. His reasoning was of equal proportion. Although calling it science was probably just a cover for both to be comfortable with what was really an uncomfortable situation.

“I’m sure there are plenty of girls that would go for a visible mutant. It was an option to filter by on the site I found you on and from my… research thus far it does seem to be a thing.” Mutiamourous, or variations of the same. X-sexual was another term she’d stumbled on, although that usually seemed to be tagged in the seedier of boards.

“Sure, friends sounds great! And if I stumble across anyone particularly mutant oriented I’ll point them your way. I’m chalking you up as a ‘it doesn’t seem to be mutation related’, what are you putting me down as?”

In a way she was glad that she wasn’t like a switch, predictably flipped. In a way she was terrified, because this was going too fast. Too fast for her seemed like it would be supersonic for Jac. She needed to dial it back, keep it in check, don’t be weird was her mantra, and so it would continue to be.

She sipped her coffee appreciatively, ah caffine, the fixer of all awkward moments. Well, maybe not all. But all science related awkward moments.

He nodded as she explained. "Whatever you find attractive, I say go for it," he advised. "You get one life, so, be happy." He sighed lightly when she got to the subject of him, however.

"If there are, I have yet to find one...most of them just choose on a date to test out their fish-related cliches. Others have fallen for my voice, but...can't get over the fact that I'm...well, a fish." He sighed deeply.

"Well, I do appreciate the help. Hell, maybe I'll get lucky." He gave a soft shrug.

He stared into his empty cup before standing up to get a refill, and paying the lady at the counter. Sitting back down, he sipped at his coffee, smiling softly. "Thanks for the advice, though. I hope all goes well with your...experiment." The fish-man gave a soft smile, nodding as he reached up to adjust his goggle-glasses.

The ‘be happy’ comment was sweet, and a nice sentiment. And all she could think of was the singing billy bass in her grandad’s office. She was a bad person.

He sighed at his loveluck so far and she had to sympathise somewhat. ‘Fishy’ wasn’t really what most people on the market had as their partner criteria. Still, if she was pining over a giant prawn mutant, who’s to say love wouldn’t find him in time? He went to grab a coffee and she realised in the silence just how tired she really was. She needed a shower too, and all in all it was a good thing she was not interested in pursuing the Fishy one, as she was sure by the time he got back she would be barely able to hold a conversation. It was something about being warm and full of warm beverage too.

“I hope your own research proves to be successful.”

Surely there was someone out there who would be driven wild by the sight of him. Or grow to love him slowly through friendship turning to more. She wanted to believe there was someone out there for everyone, even though her own efforts in the matter had been shortlived fling after shortlived fling. She hadn’t even bothered introducing them to friends and family before the 2 month mark the last few times, and the last few times she hadn’t needed to. Flatmates were a different matter, as it was somewhat inevitable. Still, she had only been single for a year, with a spate of dabbles before that. It seemed Manfish had been lonely for far longer.

She finished her own drink, now on the cooler side of warm, and stretched her neck. Was it rude to walk out on a date they had both agreed was somewhat farcical? He seemed like a reasonable man, though, so she suspected not.

“I should be heading off I think, figure out how to approach my feelings. Thank you for your advice, and your company. If I hear of anyone looking for a date, I’ll send them your way.”

Fairly warned, of course. She was not the type of person to throw people under the bus like that, and she figured Manfish was probably getting a little over people going on dates with him purely for the kicks. Or for him to shout them dinner, she knew that was a tactic heavily employed by some of her workmates once the paycheck started to run low.