Chapter Text
Barry glanced up from his monitor in time to catch the glassy gaze of his coworker.
The man (Jerry? Garyl?) stared back at Barry, the scent of whiskey heavy in the air around him. “Have you ev’r heard of the selkie?” His voice slurred a little as he slumped further into his seat.
Barry looked at his coworker for a moment, taken aback. “No, I - are you drunk?” He looked around, forgetting for a moment he was in his own office. No one to help, then. He leaned in, despite the overwhelming scent of alcohol on the other man. “You realize you’re on the clock, right?”
The man (Greg? Barry thought it might be Greg) shook his head lazily. “Hear me out. So there’s legends of these things called selkies, right? They’re women trapped in seal bodies, and they’re able to take off their skin and go on land once a year. That’s the legend. They say that if you hold on to the skin for them, they can stay in their human forms for longer, and then you can, can, break their curse.” Greg ran his hand through his unkempt hair and leaned to the side. Barry looked down at his work, then back up at Greg.
Greg continued unheeded, still leaning to the right. “The problem is, you have to, to hide the skin. Take it home, put it in a closet, she’ll find it. You have to put it somewhere she’s not gonna look, or can’t get to. ‘Cause they go crazy, is the thing, the go like… sea crazy. They say they need to be in the ocean, even though you both know they don’t. So you have to hide the skin. Hide the skin, Barry.”
Barry looked at the man for another moment, waiting for him to speak. When nothing else came out, Barry finally said, “Look, we’re at work, you’re obviously not going to be getting anything done today, you need to go home. Tell the boss you have food poisoning or something.” Even as he said this, he watched Greg warily, like he was dangerous. Which he wasn’t, of course. Just drunk.
Greg nodded and sat up straight. “Yeah, okay, you’re right.” He stood up, his chair making a fair amount of noise on the cheap laminate floor, and somewhat steadily walked away from Barry’s desk.
As the door closed behind Greg, Barry sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“Fuck.”
After the awkward first day, Greg (Gregory A. Grimaldis, as the small copper-plated placard next to their shared door stated) took the occasional sip from his flask, but did not drink to excess. Barry was amicable, but did not speak to him more than workplace propriety required. Greg came in a few minutes late some days, or would leave a few minutes early, but he wasn’t the worst person Barry had ever shared office space with. Barry still shuddered to think of Jenkins, who’s terrible work ethic was only matched by his terrible attitude.
Barry was totally fine with the minimal contact he had had with Gregory A. Grimaldis.
Which was why he really didn’t understand the dinner invitation.
“He asked you to dinner?!” Lucretia crowed over the phone, as Barry thought about his options. He didn’t want to go too formal and stand out, but he definitely did not want to show up looking like a slob to a possible business dinner.
“He invited me to talk about a possible business project at his house, with his wife, Lucretia.” Barry looked down at his clothing, and after a very brief moment of deliberation, changed his work slacks for his second-favorite jeans. He nodded to himself, and tuned back into his friend’s voice, made tinny from the speakerphone.
“...n’t just agree with him because you’re uncomfortable in his home. You are a professional, and your insight matters just as much as his does.”
Barry smiled, even though he knew Lucretia couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Luce. I appreciate the pep talks.” He looked at his watch, and cursed softly at the time. “I have to go now, otherwise I might be late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
Lucretia sighed through the phone. “Yeah, come over tomorrow. Bye, Barry.”
Barry heard the click of the call ending, and he headed for the door.
Greg Grimaldis’ house was not overtly luxurious, but Barry could tell he came from money. It was the third-nicest house on the street, and the car in the driveway was new.
The woman who answered the door was possibly the most beautiful being Barry had ever seen in his life. She smiled at him blandly, and said “I’m assuming you’re Sildar? Come on in, Greg’s just finishing up.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked down the foyer.
Barry followed her inside in a daze, only shaking himself out of it when he saw Greg through the pass-through, reaching for whatever was in the oven.
“Hey, Barry,” Greg said as he walked through the open kitchen door, casserole in hand. “I hope you like cheesy chicken casserole!”
Barry unlocked the door with his free hand and let himself in, grocery bags smacking against the door jamb. Wincing, Barry quickly walked over to the kitchen counter, setting the bags down and checking the eggs. None broken, thank god.
“Are you okay, Barry?”
Barry jumped, and turned around quickly. Lucretia sat in the middle of the couch, a nest of blankets surrounding her. Her laptop whirred away on it’s tray as Warehouse 13 played, muted, on the TV.
“Uh, y-yeah, Luce, I’m fine, how are you?” At Barry’s stutter, Lucretia’s eyes narrowed. He winced, and said nothing. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything. Maybe-
“The dinner fucked you up the much, huh?” Barry brought his eyes back up to Lucretia, who shrugged. “You’re not usually this anxious on the weekend, unless something really stressed you out. So, what happened?” She moved her head to the uncovered corner of couch. “Come on, sit down.”
Barry shuffled over and slumped into the cushions. “I don’t know, the dinner was… fine? No one else came, which means he probably did invite just me, which is weird, but it was fine. After dinner, his wife went to feed the baby, and Greg asked if I wanted a coffee before I headed out, and then we sat in the living room and talked, and he started telling me about selkies again, and then-”
“Woah, woah,” Lucretia interrupted, hands out. “Again? So he’s cornered you like this before?”
“Well, I mean, yeah. Did I not tell you before? It was the first day we started working together. He was drunk and he started talking about seal people. Got the myths all wrong, too.” Barry looked down at his empty hands. “There’s something, else, Luce. I… I met his wife.”
Lucretia’s eyes narrowed further. “Bartholomew, don’t tell me you-”
Barry cut her off. “If what you were about to say is ‘flirted with his wife’, of course not, what the fuck.” Barry sighed. “She seemed… off. Really vacant, like she wasn’t even there. I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me.”
There was silence, for a moment, as Lucretia processed the information. “Barry, what are you implying? Are you saying that she’s a robot, or something?” She chuckled, shaking her head with good humor.
“No, Lucretia, listen. What if... what if Greg had a reason to be telling me all of this? What if he actually found a selkie? What if he married her?”
Lucretia stared at Barry for a long moment. “You think - and correct me if I’m wrong - that your coworker stole a magic seal skin and forced some poor girl to marry him. Through magic.”
Barry shifted in his corner of the couch. “Well… yeah?”
“And now he’s, what, going crazy because he can’t tell anyone about it, so he’s confiding in you?”
“Well, it sounds crazy when you put it like that.”
Lucretia heaved a sigh, and pulled her laptop stand from the blanket pile and into her lap. “I can’t believe I am considering ‘magical seal person’ as an option right now.” She logged back in, and opened several tabs in quick succession. “I’m only doing this because you have a terrible propensity to be right on the weirdest subjects, so.”
Barry grinned at her. “Research party?”
Lucretia nodded, already immersed in whatever thread she was reading. “Research party.”