You had decided that, despite how close the fountain was, it would be better to take your "friend" somewhere a bit more private. There was no telling what would happen if someone else would have happened upon the two of you. Scientific experiments, exploitation, food for eccentric millionaires? All these terrifying thoughts and more raced through your panicking head. You forced yourself to calm down, at least a little, for her sake so that you could save her.
Even though you stuck to the backstreets, you still couldn't believe your luck: there was hardly another soul to witness your quest to save your fishy floundering female friend from certain suffocation. The people who were out appeared to be too caught up in their own affairs to notice such a strange sight. Had everyone on these streets become so jaded that something this fantastic just didn't register on the radar? Had they been numbed by electronic diversions for too long? Whatever the case, Ambrosia's long life seemed to be slipping away. Her smooth skin had started to grow pale, her flowing golden hair had somehow lost its luster, the brilliant emerald scales had faded to a much duller shade, and her sizeable chest was rising and falling very sharply in her desperate search for water. Her plump, pink lips parted with each ragged breath and her grip on your shoulders grew ever looser, though she tried to tighten it with each inhale she took. All of the fins on her heavy tail were hanging limp by now, with the exception of her large caudal fin, which flopped involuntarily in the air, though noticeably much less vigorously than when you had first met her. Her situation was indeed dire.
... ... ...
You didn't have a lot of money, so you had to settle for what you could afford in this beach community: an apartment. An upstairs apartment, to be specific. Each step up demanded that you balance the need to get the mermaid to liquid salvation, which required that you move quickly, with the need to avoid tripping and causing potential further injury to the aquatic woman.
As much as she didn't want to, you had to set her down on the floor briefly to unlock the door to your apartment. Well, it was brief to you. To Ambrosia, on the other hand, it felt like your valiant efforts were taking an eternity. Each choking gasp and each tailfin slap was utter agony for the poor woman. She was scared beyond all rational thought, fearing that you were somehow abandoning her on this cold ground. That worry was relieved when you picked her back up into your arms and carried her into your modest abode, though you did have to turn and sidestep to get her long body through the doorway.
You managed to close the door behind the two of you with your foot. The apartment was sparsely decorated: a dull green couch with a pink floral pattern you had "inherited" when you moved out of your parents' house along with a small flatscreen TV with a stand, a plain round wooden table and four matching chairs, a shelf with a little green statue of Buddha on it that you had bought from a gift shop at the Japanese garden near the outskirts of town along with a wall scroll reproduction of Hokusai's "Fine Wind, Clear Morning", a rotating spice rack in the cozy, or perhaps confined, kitchen, an oven, a microwave, a refrigerator, and some cabinets. Of course, you weren't here to admire the decor or lack thereof. You hurried down the hallway to the bathroom with the gasping mermaid in your straining arms.
The door was open, luckily, allowing easy access to your destination, though placing the mermaid down into the bathtub proved more of a challenge than you had imagined. Because the tub only had an opening on one side and was surrounded by a wall on the other side and walls at both the "head" and the "foot", it became apparent that she wasn't going to be able to fully stretch out her body, which seemed to be roughly at least seven and a half feet from the top of her head to the tips of her caudal fin. You placed her down as gently as possible, allowing her scaly behind to kiss the bottom of the fiberglass tub. Carefully, you moved your arms downward, guiding her tail into place until a part of her tail and all of her caudal fin had to snake out over the side and rest on the tiles just outside of the bath. You had thought that your arms were about to give out.
Now at last came the moment she had been waiting for.
You reached over her to plug the drain and turned on the knobs at the faucet located down near her fishy tail, hoping that it wouldn't be too cold or too hot for her piscine body. Water rushed into the tub with a cascading roar. The change in Ambrosia's health was immediate, as evidenced by her tailfin gaining a more lively rhythm in its flapping against the floor. The next sharp inhale was different from the myriads that preceded it; it was one of grateful relief. Her hands slowly reached down and began to rub and massage the water into her waiting rough scales and dry skin with her gasping now sounding like, well, an orgasm, for lack of a better term. ... You had to force yourself to turn away when she began to rub the water into the area between her pelvic fins as well as over her heavy chest. As soon as the water was deep enough, she dunked her head under in order to catch her breath; gasps and pants were eventually replaced by soft sighs when she finally brought her nose and mouth above the surface again.
"Thank you...," she said with half-closed exhausted eyes as she leaned back as far as she could in the bath. Despite her efforts, parts of her large breasts stuck above the water. Her blonde hair regained its lustrous sheen, her skin had a healthy glossy look, and her shimmery emerald scales gleamed in the artificial light.
Now that Ambrosia was safe, you decided to...