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Chapter Text

Annabeth clenched her teeth and took five deep and deliberate breaths. Across the room, Piper shot her a look of concern, and began to inch back towards her room.

“I’m fine, Pipes,” Annabeth snapped, wincing internally at the harshness of her voice. “And if you’re going to say you believe me, then you’d better stay in this room, or I’ll come up with a new scheme aimed at you.”

Piper gave Annabeth one of her trademark I-totally-believe-and-love-you-but-you’re-insane smiles, bright, understanding, and unfairly pretty, just enough to take the edge off of Annabeth’s teetering grasp on sanity.

And it had been very, very close the past few days. The combination of external circumstances which Annabeth did not want to think about, and an Architecture year 3 final, was starting to press hard down on her.

The deadline was five days away, and Annabeth was still trapped on the final decisions for the façade on her audacious attempt to integrate classical Greek architecture and a modern feel into a proposed court building.

She scowled down at the tracing papers on her drafting table, which she had shifted to the living room in a valiant attempt to cut down on distractions.

The lines just…didn’t quite add up. She was missing something.

It was something which would have given her trouble on any regular day, but in the current circumstances, the indecision was made much worse. Knowing that her only clear time to think was now, at 12:10 through to 12:15. When that heartless beast stopped for a sandwich, or whatever drove those things. 

Running her hands obsessively through her curls, Annabeth caught the slightest hint of sound behind her.

Annabeth snapped her head around to catch Piper tiptoeing towards Hazel’s door. “What are you doing?”

Guilt rippled over Piper’s face, and the shorter girl turned up the sugar level on her smile, and in her voice as well. “Nothing, Beth. I was just…checking up on Hazel. You know how she gets during geology finals.”

“You’re a music major, Pipes,” Annabeth huffed, “I doubt you’ll make her feel much better. And you’re doing the voice. You’re up to something. Is Hazel in on it?”

“Nope.” Piper’s smile was starting to become strained, and Annabeth narrowed her eyes at Piper’s hands, hidden behind her back.

“What’s that?” Annabeth demanded.

“Nothing!” Piper was a great actress, Annabeth had to give her that. Anyone else would've been convinced. 

Annabeth put down her pencil and stood from her chair. Piper began to back away slowly towards the door of Hazel’s room.

“Where are you going?” Annabeth kept her voice deceptively quiet, gliding forward, eyes calculating distances and speeds.

Hazel’s door popped open, and the shorter girl’s exhausted face appeared from the door.

“Pipes, is that our delivery?”

“Shhhhh!” Piper hissed.

Hazel looked up, and was unable to hide the look of dismay on her face. “Hi, Annabeth! You look a little…stressed.”

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. Piper had done something, for sure, and accidentally swept up Hazel in it. Hazel rarely lied, and when she did, it was usually immensely obvious. She was currently holding that guilty look which she had whenever she was trying to deflect attention.

“Hazel, what is Piper holding behind her back?”

Hazel glanced at the box behind Piper’s back, then back up at Annabeth. The guilty look intensified.

“It’s our Amazon delivery,” Piper cut in, all smiles and incredibly believable charm, except that Annabeth had been there for that performance where Piper had put up a bravura Titania in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and made even Annabeth grudgingly believe that Piper was in love with a guy with a donkey’s head.

No, Annabeth would not be getting straight answers out of Piper. She shifted the full weight of her gaze to Hazel.

“Hazel, tell me. Now.”

Hazel took a deep breath.

Piper shot her a warning look, and Annabeth took the chance to take another couple quick steps forwards.

Piper hastily shot her gaze back towards Annabeth, and began to inch closer to Hazel’s open door.

“Okay, so you know how my final is tomorrow?” Hazel was doing her innocent big eyes again, the only thing that could ever stop Annabeth in her tracks. Which they did. For the moment.

“And you know how Piper’s grades kind of depend on having good sound quality for analysis?”

Annabeth did not like where this was going. She had already done the mental math, and if it was leading to where she thought it was, blood was going to be spilled.

“We tried! We really did! I mean, we called the guy, asked if we could pay extra, but he said it’d still take another week, because the supply line issues and everything…”

Piper was nearly at Hazel’s door, and Annabeth was now within three feet of Piper.

Hazel took a deep breath, and Annabeth could see Piper’s muscles tense up.

“Soweboughtnoisecancelingheadphonesbuttherewereonlytwoinstock—”

Annabeth made her lunge just a split second before Piper did, but Hazel’s reactions were faster than both of theirs, grabbing Piper and pulling her headlong into Hazel’s room, the door of which slammed shut and locked a moment later.

“Sorry!” Hazel called. “I promise you’ll get to use it tomorrow!”

“You’ll have to come out eventually!” Annabeth growled. There was a guilty pause.

Annabeth’s jaw dropped as she thought back to the previous day. The shifting of the second kettle to Hazel’s room, the only room with an attached bathroom. Piper claiming Hazel was a better audience than her mirror and shifting her setup into Hazel’s room.

The box of instant noodles that Piper had sworn was a mistaken order. The audacity of it all. Those little sneaks had planned this so much better than they ever could’ve when they’d first met last year in that New York dorm room, when Hazel was a timid Louisianian transfer who tried to get along with everyone, and Piper was a dramatic, immensely gorgeous mess who loved being a faux rebel as much as her secret obsession with glamour magazines that she thought no one knew about.

Actually, now that Annabeth thought about it, Piper was almost exactly the same. It was Hazel who had probably come up with that quietly devious and flawless plan, the way that Annabeth had been slowly teaching her for the past year.

“Hazel, I’m proud of you,” Annabeth called through the door. “Lovely plan. Piper, you will suffer.”

There was the sound of quiet scuffling, and then Piper’s voice came from behind the door.

“Just one day, Annabeth! Tomorrow you’ll get Hazel’s.”

Annabeth was about to retort when it started again.

The whole cause of this argument. The reason why all three of them were incredibly on edge, and why Annabeth in particular was close to murder and/or arson.

The whirring of drilling and hammering started up again from the apartment directly above theirs, that obnoxiously loud and grating sound emanating down from the ceiling in constant doses, sometimes so loud that Annabeth could feel it in her teeth when she slammed her jaw shut hard to prevent herself from screaming at the ceiling.

Annabeth took another deep breath and marched into her own room, slamming the door shut viciously. She screamed into her pillow for the fifth time that week. It was the kind of unfortunate dilemma that left her cursing her own perfectionism.

Things had to be perfect, exact, and most of the time, she succeeded in making it so.

It was what made her the top student in her high school in San Francisco. It was what drove her to be the best, to take on a project on a third-year scale in her second year.

And it had been going well too, until that infernal noise had interfered. Because she needed things to be in order. For gods' sake, Annabeth had to align the curtains properly before she started work. And for the past week, just as she was reaching the most technically challenging portions of the project, some idiot had the gall to redo what seemed like his entire floor. 

Somehow, he'd also found the most hardworking contractors in New York City, who started on point at 10:30 every morning, broke for five minute breaks at 12:10 and 3:30, and kept working until 8:30 at night. That had meant many all-nighters, and subsequently mixed results.  

She’d thought that her initial design was secure after the first two all-nighters, and then she’d taken it straight to the testing zone without double-checking.

Watching it crumble in the wind tunnel had been extremely devastating, and it took Piper thirty minutes of singing to drag Annabeth to bed that night. And that was a lot. Hazel normally conked out three minutes into any Ella Fitzgerald, and even Annabeth usually succumbed within ten minutes.

She'd sworn off total all-nighters since then, but even with extending her working hours to 3 in the morning, she was nowhere close to on track. And what was even worse, that interminable whirring filled her mind even at night, and turned her thoughts into static and rising anger. 

The concentration thief, Piper had so poetically put it, mournfully plucking away at her guitar tunelessly while Hazel cupped geodes over her ears. 

Annabeth’s lips curled a little as the memory of Piper desperately resorting to lullabies came to her. It had been almost laughable if only–

A particularly intense whir of the drill, accompanied by a loud cracking sound, snapped Annabeth’s thoughts in half.

“That’s it!” Annabeth shot upright from the couch, pointing an accusing finger at the ceiling. “I’m going to shut you up if you don’t shut up!”

It took Annabeth a few seconds to realise that she’d just screamed full volume at the ceiling, like a truly deranged person.

The drilling ceased.

Then the hammering started, a constant knocking, like when Luke Castellan had refused to leave her alone in eighth grade.

Annabeth could practically see the red filter drop over her vision, and she stormed straight for the door, stepping into a pair of slippers and slamming the door shut behind her with as much venom as possible.

“That is fucking it,” Annabeth muttered under her breath, snatching up one of Piper’s high heels from the shoe rack. “These assholes are about to get what’s coming to them.”

She rammed the lift button as hard as she could, and began to make tentative swings with the heel.

It had been some time since she’d mastered knifework with her martial arts teachers; one of the few things that had kept her from actually releasing her aggression on her stepmother.

But she was still pretty confident in herself. Annabeth kept in good shape, and her reflexes were always top-notch.

The lift doors opened, and Annabeth stepped inside absentmindedly, her fingers hovering over the tenth-floor button, only to see that it had already been pressed.

“You could’ve taken the stairs,” a mild voice pointed out.

Annabeth spun quickly on her heel, bringing up Piper’s high heel in one hand.

“Okay, point taken,” said a surprised looking young man about Annabeth’s age, with bright green eyes and messy black hair.

He was also clad in just swimming trunks and a towel around his neck. Annabeth’s eyes wandered just a little bit around a toned, muscular chest before the man used a finger to push the high heel away from his face.

“Sorry,” Annabeth muttered, turning back around and running her other hand quickly through her messy, tangled curls. Of course she was a total mess when it came to meeting hunky swimmers in the elevator. This guy...Annabeth thought he looked familiar. Ah, it was those distinctive green trunks; he was always swimming in the pool whenever she went out to the library on the weekends. 

Then she frowned. He lived on the tenth floor. Could this be the source of her pain?

“Don’t be,” he replied with an easy grin. “It’s not every day a pretty girl threatens you with a stiletto heel.”

The doors opened, and Annabeth stepped out to the buzz of drilling, her fingers, which had been relaxed previously, tightening on the heel as she stormed over to the unit on the left, the one lurking right above her apartment, and which was raining down all that goddamn noise on her.

“The owner’s not in,” came the apologetic voice of the swimmer. “There’s no one there but contractors. Very stubborn contractors.”

“They haven’t met me yet,” Annabeth snarled, raising a fist to slam against the door. “Nor my roommate’s heels.”

Annabeth reconsidered, instead leaning forwards and tapping out a series of light, annoyingly breezy and deliberate knocks, the kind that were most commonly associated with door-to-door salesmen, Girl Scouts, and Drew Tanaka.

The drilling ceased immediately, and a series of loud thumps began to sound, getting closer and closer. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Were those…footsteps?

She narrowed her eyes. Well, that wasn’t going to change anything. She was still going to give this contractor a piece of her mind, and if necessary, a piece of Piper’s heels.

Annabeth set herself, flexing her wrist as she readjusted her grip on Piper’s heel.

The thumping was getting very loud now.

So loud that she didn’t notice until the very last second the presence of someone behind her, a hand seizing her wrist and firmly tugging Annabeth around the corner and back into the lift lobby.

Annabeth’s reflexes took over, leaning into the pull to smash an elbow into her would-be attacker’s sternum.

The whuff of his breath being driven out of his lungs was accompanied by a pained groan as Annabeth half-turned and aimed a stamp down at his ankle. The pressure on her wrist released as the person’s left leg crumbled and he slammed against the lift doors.

Annabeth completed her turn, bringing Piper’s heel around into a deadly arc that, if she were being more ruthless, would be aimed for an eye.

The first thing she saw was bright sea-green eyes wide in alarm, and for the second time in the past ten minutes, Annabeth stopped herself from smashing Piper’s heel into the swimmer from the lift.

“That didn’t go the way I thought it would,” the swimmer muttered, holding his hands up in surrender.

“WHO DARES TO KNOCK!” a roar ripped out of the apartment, a voice that promised lots of blunt metal tools and smoke within the immediate vicinity.

The swimmer stood slowly, eyes fixed on the heel. “Please. Let me talk to him.”

Annabeth hesitated, narrowing her eyes. She supposed that it couldn’t hurt to get more data, and if this swimmer could help her get it, then maybe it could help.

It was not just because he was cute, and also the first boy she’d talked to outside of an academic context in the past two weeks of finals hell. Not because of that. Annabeth would never be influenced so easily.

“Fine,” Annabeth hissed, “But you tell him to shut up his tools for the next week, or else!”

She stuck out a hand and hauled the swimmer to his feet, consciously not looking at how tall he was, and the way his muscles moved as he came upright. Annabeth nestled the heel into the small of his back, prodding him forwards.

“Hey, that hurts!” the swimmer hissed.

Annabeth motioned forwards. “Just so you don’t forget to ask what I need you to ask.”

“WHO’S THERE? I SWEAR IF IT’S THOSE STOLL BROTHERS, YOU ARE BOTH GETTING YOUR DOORS NAILED SHUT!”

Annabeth marched the swimmer around the corner, and suddenly Piper’s heel did not seem like as imposing a weapon as she’d intended it to be.

The man standing on the threshold of the house was massive, filling up the entire frame with large, misshapen shoulders and a massive beard. He was wearing goggles, and overalls, and he clutched a massive hammer in his right hand.

Annabeth’s eyes took in a large steel brace tracing down the man’s leg to a pair of truly impressive boots that would not have looked out of place in a nuclear management facility.

Okay. Maybe the swimmer was right about this one.

“Hey Heph, how’s it going?” the swimmer asked weakly, pasting a smile onto his face and waving awkwardly like an idiot. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

The man grunted in recognition. “Jackson. We’re on schedule, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The swimmer–Jackson–nodded vaguely. Annabeth dug the heel just a touch into his back, a smirk appearing on her face as he jolted forwards slightly and shot her a dirty look.

“Um, yeah,” Jackson began, “So, your schedule. When…when are the guys taking a break?”

Heph laughed once, then burst into a roar of mirth. “Great joke, Jackson! I see what you’re trying to do!”

Jackson shifted uncertainly, and Annabeth was suddenly aware that in order to keep the heel in his back, Annabeth was pressed up against Jackson’s side, the warmth of his bare tanned skin radiating into her through the thin cotton of her shirt.

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Jackson said uncertainly.

Heph levelled an accusatory finger. “Hah! You know that our slogan is ‘Our Fire Never Goes Out’, don’t you, Jackson? Well, it’s true! Hephaestus Apostolous doesn’t stop until the job is done, never! One more week of all-round work is better than a month of slow breaks!”

Annabeth could feel the anger boiling up inside her, and she made to move forwards, only for Jackson to wrap an arm across her shoulders and shoot her another look.

Reluctantly, Annabeth settled back into Jackson’s grasp. It was steady and warm. Almost…nice.

“Come on, Heph,” Jackson prodded, “Isn’t Tyson doing a great job for his internship? You could down tools for a bit and let him take over. You know, to test him out.”

Heph screwed his face into what Annabeth figured was a thoughtful expression. Then he burst out in laughter.

Jackson and Annabeth exchanged uncertain glances. Something inside Annabeth was telling her that something was about to be said.

“Ah, Jackson, I like you,” Heph said gruffly. Then he dropped Annabeth a wink and proceeded to say, “If you wanted to enjoy some uninterrupted alone time with your girl, you should’ve said earlier!”

Annabeth’s cheeks flushed bright red, and Jackson released a choked sort of grunt from his throat.

The image of what they must look like flashed into Annabeth’s head; Jackson in just swimming trunks, Annabeth in a tank top and shorts, hair still messy, the two of them standing together so close. Then the rest of the sentence fully registered, and Annabeth’s mouth was moving faster than her brain could tell her that this was one of those really really bad ideas.

“Well, this idiot’s asking for it now,” Annabeth found herself saying. “It’s enough work listening to him as it is. And now I have to say it for him.”

Heph barked in laughter. “Well said, girl.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, elbowing Jackson again. She let for West Coast accent drift into her voice a little more strongly. “But we would appreciate some silence. Because...well, I'm only in town for the week. Would you mind? Please?”

And Heph was looking between her and Jackson with an approving look. “Alright, Jackson. Tyson will take over tomorrow. And I’ll take the afternoon off; I’m finished with the bathroom anyway. The rest of the week...alright, we'll let up a little."

Heph pointed his hammer in Jackson's face. "This one's a keeper, Jackson. I can sense it.”

Jackson smiled, his face lighting up as he settled his arm around Annabeth's waist. Idly, Annabeth noted to herself that he was holding her with just the right amount of pressure, and she leaned into him, settling her head back against his shoulder.

"Well, I hope I can keep her," Jackson murmured, fixing Annabeth with an adoring gaze which Annabeth could've sworn was totally genuine. "I mean, who wouldn't? Pretty, a little violent, and smart enough to compensate for me."

"If that was a compliment, you'd better work on those," Annabeth jibed, the banter flowing freely and easily. "You're not getting away with subpar compliments just because you're cute."

"You're adorable when you're demanding," Jackson responded, smiling roguishly. "Sorry to take up your time, Heph, but we really appreciate it."

"Really appreciate it," Annabeth put in, as Jackson's body heat continued to radiate snugly into her back and side. Heph let out a long sigh, smiling sadly down at the two of them.

"Ah, young love," he said wistfully. "Things only ever got complicated between me and my wife. Alright, you two. Enjoy your time together."

“Thanks, Heph,” Annabeth flashed him a smile, and then took Jackson’s hand before he could protest. “Let’s go, Seaweed Brain.”

Annabeth managed to drag Jackson halfway to the lift lobby before Heph slammed the door shut, and the ramifications of everything she’d just done hit her like a man with an absurdly big hammer.

“So…” Jackson said, his cheeks red and unable to meet her eyes, “Um…what was that?”

“You’re welcome,” Annabeth said quickly, “I just halted the noise for you, Jackson. Be grateful. Now, you can go and take a shower.”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose at the slight tinge of chlorine floating in the air around Jackson.

“Seaweed Brain?” Jackson asked, a smile returning to his face. “Why seaweed?”

Annabeth snorted. “Your trunks are bright green, idiot.”

Jackson’s face flushed as he looked down at himself. Then he looked up with a mischievous grin.

“Looking at my trunks, Wise Girl?”

Annabeth sputtered a gibberish negative, her face flushing red again at certain…thoughts and implications.

“No!”

Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know, Wise Girl. I think you just said you wouldn’t mind being my girlfriend.”

Annabeth turned Piper’s shoe around and hit Jackson with the toe end.

“Ow!” Jackson grinned. “So…can I see you around? I mean, maybe I can take you on a date?”

Annabeth huffed. “I’ve got finals.”

“You go to Olympus too?” Jackson asked, sizing her up. “Let me guess…Drama.”

Annabeth actually laughed at that one. “Yes, Olympus. But drama? Really?”

Jackson shrugged. “Well, you acted like you were my girlfriend so well that even I totally believed it for a second. I was very confused as to when some cute, violent girl decided to make me her boyfriend. Very confused, but totally down.”

“Ha ha,” Annabeth crossed her arms. “What about you, Seaweed Brain? Don’t tell me you actually study seaweed.”

Jackson’s face developed an embarrassed look, and Annabeth let out a snort. “Wait, really?”

“Marine biology,” Jackson said defensively, “And I’ll have you know it’s really, really cool. Anyway, what about you? You never told me what you studied.”

Annabeth decided to keep him waiting. She pressed the lift button, raising an eyebrow at Jackson as he looked at her expectantly.

“Architecture,” Annabeth said. “And my final prep has been disrupted enough by the idiot who decided to renovate his house now, so, I’ve gotta go and make use of whatever peace I’ve just bought myself by pretending to be your girlfriend.”

The lift arrived with a soft chime.

“Alright, how about tomorrow?” Jackson persisted. “My finals ended yesterday, so I can swing by and…apologise.”

Annabeth stepped halfway into the lift, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Apologise for what?”

Jackson’s mouth opened, then closed. “For…for you having to pretend to be my girlfriend. Also, if this counts as a breakup, then I’d definitely want to get you back. Also, we're vertical neighbours, and apparently schoolmates, so...”

Annabeth bit her lip and stepped fully into the lift. “Keep me from that cursed knocking until my finals are over, and I’ll consider it, Jackson.”

“You’ve got a deal,” Jackson said, his face lighting up with a smile. “And please…can I know your name?”

The doors began to close.

“Annabeth,” she said.

“Annabeth,” Jackson repeated. “Hi, I’m P–”

The doors closed, and seconds later, Annabeth stepped back into the apartment.

“You’re welcome!” she yelled down the hallway. “I got the knocking to stop!”

Something else occurred to Annabeth, later that night, after she’d finally made significant progress on her finals project that blessedly quiet day, as she settled into her bed.

Why had Jackson wanted to introduce himself again? He knew that she already knew his name. Annabeth shrugged. It was probably nothing.

And that night, she slept better than she had in weeks.

Chapter Text

Annabeth woke the next day to cautious knocking. She yawned and stretched in her bed, blinking owlishly. That, Annabeth reflected, had been good. Really good. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened to her at this stage.

“So you’re not going to kill us?” Hazel’s voice floated from the door, where Hazel stood awkwardly, Piper half-hiding behind the shorter girl.

Annabeth waved a hand dismissively. “Hazel, I would never kill you. You’re too cute, and besides, without you this place would have long been burned down.”

Hazel beamed. “Thanks, Annabeth!”

“And if me and Piper weren’t around, you’d never have stepped out of the apartment all year.” Annabeth snorted, “So you can thank her for me as well.”

Annabeth counted in her head. Two seconds for Hazel’s smile to brighten and for her to turn and hug Piper, and Annabeth was out of the bed like a jaguar, her footsteps light and sure, and Annabeth saw Piper jerk quickly out of Hazel’s hug, but not quickly enough.

“Too late, McLean!” Annabeth barreled straight into Piper, grabbing her wrists and pinning her traitorous roommate against the wall.

“Hazel, you can go,” Annabeth growled, shaking her hair away from her face. “Piper here will take the punishment.”

Piper shook her head in alarm, eyes wide, lips pursed cutely. “Please, Beth, don’t. We were just trying to keep ourselves sane!”

“At the cost of mine,” Annabeth retorted. “You know what’s coming, Piper.”

“Please, let’s talk about–” Annabeth cut off Piper mid-sentence by slipping her free hand up Piper’s tank top and spidering it around her toned, flat, and incredibly ticklish midriff.

Laughter spluttered out from Piper as Annabeth’s fingers sought out the perfect spots. Ribs first, down to the bellybutton, glide across to the left, then right, Annabeth thought absently as Piper squealed and begged.

After a couple minutes, Annabeth finally relented and let go, leaving a red-faced Piper propped up panting against the wall.

“Shit, Beth,” Piper panted. “You…didn’t have to go…that hard…”

Annabeth shrugged. “I didn’t, Piper. It’s not my fault you’re apparently hypersensitive everywhere.”

Piper gave Annabeth a smirk. “Comes…in handy….sometimes…”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to think about that, Piper. That is something between you and whichever boy is following you today.”

“I don’t tell them to follow me,” Piper protested. “They just…keep showing up.”

Unfortunately, it was just one of the things that Annabeth couldn’t refute. Piper purposely cut her hair in choppy waves, didn’t wear makeup, and switched between adorable oversized clothing and casual men’s fashion.

She tried her best to keep things low-key, but the thing about being one of the best musicians on campus was that she had to do performances.

After every one, boys (and a surprising number of girls) would suddenly all develop detective skills and weasel out their address.

Admirers arrived every other day to ask the notoriously picky girl on dates, or pass her chocolates which Hazel ended up eating, or flowers which Annabeth would deliver to Katie Gardner downstairs, if she wasn’t attempting to kill the Stolls.

Honestly, this entire housing complex, the Camp, as their landlord Dionysus insisted on calling it, was full of strange characters.

There was Reyna across the hall, who was even more of a workout freak than Annabeth was, and Clarisse, who was always advertising her MMA matches on the community noticeboard on the ground floor.

“If the Valdez guy comes, I’m confiscating his matches again,” Hazel warned as she stepped around Piper’s body, draped dramatically across the floor. “I’m going out for my final now, please don’t burn down the apartment while I’m gone.”

Hazel readjusted her glasses and tied her hair back tightly. “Sorry about the headphone thing, Annabeth,” she said earnestly. “I can lend them to you when I get back.”

Annabeth waved a hand. “No, no. I’ve got a way out. Bet you guys with your noise-cancelling headphones didn’t notice that there was no drilling yesterday, huh?”

Piper’s jaw dropped.  “Wait, really? You got Hephaestus ‘Volcano’ Apostolous to give up a shift? Who did you sell your soul to?”

“It wasn’t anything like that,” Annabeth said hastily. “I just…asked.”

“Bullshit,” Piper fired back, “Back when we were dueling with Tanaka I paid Volcano the standard rate for him to redo her front gate and he spent three hours just on the locking mechanism. Even I felt bad after the third day Tanaka had to use the window to get out of the house.”

Hazel frowned. “Well, then what did you do?”

Annabeth tried her best to fight down the heat that was slowly building in her cheeks. If Piper knew, she would never let it go. And Hazel…she’d bumble ahead in that sweetly naïve way of hers and probably spill everything she knew.

“I asked…very nicely,” Annabeth unconvincingly. “I used one of the upstairs neighbours to guilt trip Hephaestus.”

“Hmm,” Piper tapped her fingers together. “My boy-senses are tingling, Beth. Somewhere, somehow, this has something to do with a boy you like.”

Annabeth whipped her head back around and raised her hands threateningly. “McLean, say that one more time and your abs will get such a workout you won’t breathe right for two days.”

Piper swallowed her words, but there was a sparkle in Piper’s eyes that unnerved Annabeth. She suspected something. Damn that girl and her strange romantic senses. It was like nothing Annabeth had ever seen before; Piper knew who had crushes on who and who was secretly cheating on who just by looking.

It was like the social version of Hazel’s uncanny jewelry valuation powers. That girl had saved them—well, saved Piper—a lot of money.

Annabeth sighed and stepped away, heading for the kitchen. She was greeted by a pleasant smell.

“I will assume this is a peace offering,” Annabeth sniffed, as she poured out freshly brewed coffee from the kettle into her mug. “If it isn’t, don’t tell me.”

Piper smiled. “It’s a peace offering!”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You are very lucky that Volcano isn’t drilling right now, or I’d—”

A languid thumping began at that very instant, slower, less grating hammer blows falling, but each one pounding with a teeth-rattling precision and depth.

Annabeth swore she saw her pencil jump up and back down onto the drafting table, or maybe it was just the vortex of anger that was beginning to swirl around her.

“Annabeth, here,” Piper said desperately, “Take the headphones and do your work! You’re getting close, wow, I love those lines. You’ve really made so much progress on the façade, it’s unbelievable. I think you’ll—”

“You’re not attached to your high heels, right?” Annabeth said, her voice deceptively calm.

“No?” Piper said, tilting her head in confusion.

Annabeth nodded. “Good.”

Without saying another word, she turned and headed for the door, snatching up Piper’s high heel and hefting it in her hands.

“I won’t be long. Just need to go upstairs.” Annabeth opened the door, mind racing furiously. So Volcano had restarted after all, but Annabeth just needed to get Jackson to come out and act as the idiot boyfriend again.

They could probably secure a good half-day of noiseless time, if she played her cards right.

“Hey, hey, wait!” Piper grabbed Annabeth’s arm. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to tango with the Volcano with my heels.”

“Why not?” Annabeth assumed an innocent expression. “You’re always assuring us that you don’t like heels, so it can’t be that you like them, can it?”

Piper smiled sweetly, “Well, it’s just that I was thinking of lending them to you for the third-year party after the exams, I think you’d look great in them…if you didn’t turn them into murder weapons, that is.”

Annabeth sighed. Maybe she had tortured Piper enough for today. Tomorrow was another matter; Annabeth had gotten ahold of a variety set of feathers and she’d take one day with Hazel and test them all on Piper.

The thought of that was enough to let Annabeth lower the heel and return it to Piper. She hadn’t wanted to do this, but well, she supposed it was time. She marched back to her room and snatched out the leather scabbard from the table, strapping the belt quickly around her waist.

It was the only good thing that Luke Castellan, may he burn in Hades, had ever given to her, a Spartan dagger that he’d spray-painted bronze.

It was historically inaccurate, of course, no archaeologist had yet to discover a bronze xiphos, but at the time she’d been willing to accept it as a gift.

Well-balanced, finely crafted, and just small enough to fit into a bag or strap to her thigh, it had accompanied Annabeth through the years.

Piper facepalmed when she saw it. “Okay, so you’re literally going to take a weapon upstairs?”

Five more loud thuds sent Annabeth’s pencil spinning off the desk and onto the floor.

Annabeth pointed to the pencil with her dagger.

“Do you think I can draw with that happening every few minutes?”

“Yeah, we exchanged duration for intensity,” Piper muttered. “Or rather, you did, Annabeth.”

“Well, now I’m going to secure us a timeslot,” Annabeth growled, heading out the door. Jackson probably wouldn’t appreciate opening the door to a knife to the face, but it would be for the best.

Besides, if he was going to try taking her on a date, he’d better be ready for it.

“You’re blushing,” Piper accused.

Annabeth scowled. “I am not!”

Piper raised her hands to shrug, and Annabeth caught her midriff in both hands, turning Piper into a squealing mess yet again.

“You don’t say anything more on that, got it?” Annabeth hissed, aware that her cheeks had reddened enough to be recognizable despite her tanned skin. “Now, let’s go.”

Annabeth slammed the lift button with the heel of her hand, and watched it climb slowly from the first floor. Her heart leaped suddenly in her chest. What if Jackson was inside? And in just his stupid green trunks again?

She cast a discreet look towards Piper, who was dressed just like Annabeth in a tank top and shorts, but she had flawless skin, and a figure with tended more towards the womanly side of soft curves than Annabeth’s more muscular frame.

And there was that woke-up-in-a-movie aura that she always had, hair artfully falling without trying, adorably just awakened, while Annabeth’s curls were just everywhere, and she knew that her expression was more like a murderer whenever she rose in the morning.

Annabeth blinked. Was she just…jealous of Piper?

Well, she and Hazel had been a little when they’d first moved in, but after that first year, they hadn’t been affected since.

More importantly, did she really just get worried that Jackson would think that Piper was attractive?

That was really worrying, and when Annabeth stepped into the lift, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger to calm herself down.

Her brain traitorously reminded her of how good it had felt to play the girlfriend, and how naturally Jackson and her slipped into it together.

The lift doors opened to another round of banging, and Annabeth snapped back to the task at hand.

She stepped over to Jackson’s apartment and hammered on the door, one hand on the knife. Once he answered, Annabeth would drag him out at knifepoint, and march him to the other apartment, where they would have another talk with Hephaestus.

“Nice and subtle,” Piper muttered behind her. “Great flirting technique.”

Annabeth tapped her fingers on the hilt of the knife pointedly, and Annabeth heard the click of Piper’s teeth as she closed her mouth.

A little part of her whispered that Jackson should probably have his shirt off again so that they looked like they really wanted to enjoy the afternoon.

Annabeth had been preparing her speech (Jackson needed to understand not to say a word first), and calculating the best angle at which to pull Jackson forwards (by the collar on the left side), when the door opened.

She grabbed the figure in the door by the left collar of his purple sweatshirt and jerked him forwards and out of the door, her right hand drawing the dagger in one smooth, fluid motion, and letting the light angle into his blue eyes off the blade positioned right in front of his face.

Blue eyes?

“Um…are you looking for someone?” the blonde man blinked owlishly. “Oh…wait. You’re our downstairs neighbour, huh? Hi, I’m Jason.”

--

Hazel was pretty sure that she’d adapted pretty well to the New York public transportation system, but even after three years, there was still the occasional confusion, especially here at St-Columbus, attempting to find her way to the right entrance.

Especially now, at rush hour, with the crowds of people flooding in and out of the subway and along the streets.

And the lightly falling snow and the piercing wind didn’t make things easier.

Hazel pulled her fuzzy beanie further down over her ears as she weaved carefully towards the correct entrance, puffing out a breath.

They’d become too reliant on Piper’s usage of the various boys for free rides, and Hazel had never been particularly great with directions. Still, at least she’d realized she was in the uptown platform before her legs could autopilot her into the subway.

Hazel stepped into the packed subway car and glanced at her watch. Okay, there was still time. She’d left early anyway, so barring any other incidents, she should just be on time.

She was deep into her recollection into the details of Mohr-Coulomb theory on shear failure, and so didn’t quite notice until the last second the large figure charging for the doors behind her.

“Oof!” Hazel felt a large, solid presence slam into her back, sending the two of them further into the packed subway car just before the doors slammed shut.

“Sorry! Sorry!” came a panicked hiss from somewhere behind and above Hazel’s head.

Scowling, Hazel grabbed onto the nearest subway pole and spun slowly to scold the person who had run into her.

Hazel’s first thought was that maybe she’d bitten off more than she could chew. From the voice and the general feel of the contact, she’d known it was a man who was taller than her, but this man was built like a truck, broad shoulders and a muscular chest straining against a polo shirt.

Her second thought was that maybe she still stood a chance, because the Asian man’s face was round and worried, really worried, like a kid looking at his mom after dropping a glass of milk.

It was almost cute.

The third thing was the massive Olympus logo stretched across his shirt.

“You’re buying me ambrosia at the cafeteria,” Hazel poked a finger into the man’s chest. “You can get one for yourself too, but you’re getting me one first.”

The man’s face blossomed into a relieved smile. “Oh, you go to Olympus too, huh? Finals?”

Hazel couldn’t help it; her annoyance melted away and she smiled back at the man. “Yeah. Grind ends today. I’m Hazel. Year 3 Geology.”

“Oh, I’m Frank. Year 3 History.” Frank brought up his hand to shake hers, letting go of the subway pole for a brief moment, which happened to be just as the train hit a bend.

Frank stumbled forwards, and Hazel yelped as he nearly collided into her again.

“Shit! I’m so sorry. I…I’m not very coordinated.” Frank looked flustered, unable to meet Hazel’s gaze head on.

Hazel shrugged, clinging on to the subway pole as the train reached another bend.

“It’s alright, Frank. That just means two pieces of ambrosia.”

Frank laughed a little. “I mean, who am I to deny you? I don’t know how they do it, but it really lives up to the name.”

“What does the name mean?” Hazel asked curiously. The small, square pastries were always perfectly warm and slightly flaky, filled with a delicious, sweet filling which tasted quite literally like food fit for gods.

No one knew what exactly it was made out of, if only because despite making some of the greatest food in the world, the couple that ran the store—Hebe and Ganymede—told everyone that it only worked if you didn’t know what it was.

Hazel had no idea why it was called ambrosia; wasn’t that some kind of fruit salad?

“It’s from Greek mythology,” Frank said, “Supposedly it was the food of the gods of Olympus…which is pretty fitting. If you ate it, you could become younger, and eventually, you might even become immortal.”

Hazel laughed. “Well, sometimes I do feel immortal after eating it.”

“Right?” Frank nodded in agreement. “It tastes amazing.”

Hazel smiled up at him, and there were a couple seconds of silence. Frank cleared his throat.

“So, um, did you want the ambrosia before or after your final?”

There was an unspoken question there that Hazel would not have picked up on even two years ago, much less three, before Annabeth had taught her about linguistic analysis and Piper had demonstrated how to flirt without trying.

Hazel thought about it. She and Annabeth had had their hands full dealing with Piper’s love life to properly get into one themselves, and honestly, so far that had suited Hazel.

After all, her mother had raised her prim and proper, and it had taken a lot of unlicensed therapy from Piper and Annabeth to get Hazel acclimatized to some of the more…ahem, promiscuous school members (Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf were prime offenders).

Maybe it was the idea of that little blush on Annabeth’s face when Piper had divined the presence of A Boy in her good mood, or maybe it was that Frank was cute and shy but also really buff. Her internal Piper gave her a thumbs up, and so reluctantly, did her internal Annabeth.

“We can get lunch together after our finals, then,” Hazel said at last, smiling widely. “I’ll see you there. Remember, two ambrosias.”

“I’ll get you a nectar too,” Frank said, his shoulders untensing suddenly. “We’ll make it a post-finals stress reliever.”

“Okay,” Hazel stuck out her hand just out from her body in the tightly packed subway car, and Frank reached down to grasp it.

“It’s a date.”

Frank’s cheeks turned red.

--

Piper McLean was a master of timing, or at least that’s what she liked to tell herself. It was mostly true. She said ‘mostly’ because whenever she didn’t have perfect timing, Piper tended to have some of the absolute worst timing in the world.

Like when they’d gone hiking in the Catskills, and Piper had proudly announced that she had just taken a dump in the woods right when an old couple went past.

The death stares were immense.

She later would admit to starting a small fire just as a park ranger was walking behind them.

To be fair, she was lying, but still, it had resulted in them being marched to the nearest rest stop and lectured for half an hour.

Hazel had taken it totally seriously, but Annabeth, who had planned out a down-to-the-second schedule, had been slowly turning into the icestorm that typically occurred whenever her perfectionism was thwarted.

Anyway, this was getting away from the current moment; Piper knew that in order to make a good impression on the hot boy at the door, she should probably open her mouth and say something, or at the very least pull back Annabeth’s arm before the rage took over, but her brain kind of buffered.

The blond guy, Jason, pushed his glasses back up slowly, and flicked those piercing blue eyes of his towards Piper in resignation.

“I’m looking for Jackson,” Annabeth hissed, lowering the knife just a little. “Where is he?”

Jason sighed. “Of course you are. Hold on, let me get him out.”

He turned and made to close the door, but Annabeth jammed the blade of the dagger in between the door and the frame.

“Door stays open,” Annabeth growled. “I want to see him out here now.”

Jason flashed Piper another resigned look, and Piper finally broke out of her daze.

“Annabeth!” Piper hissed, hauling on Annabeth’s biceps. “We can’t just threaten the neighbours like this!”

Piper sent her best winning smile through the slightly open door, and was rewarded by a pretty half-smile from Jason, who adjusted his glasses nervously before disappearing from the doorframe, presumably to drag this Jackson out to meet Annabeth.

Her romance senses were already tingling; Annabeth’s cheeks were just slightly flushed, and she was readjusting her grip on the knife over and over.

This was going to be really interesting to watch.

There was the sudden sound of quick footsteps, and then the door was opening back up again, Annabeth deftly withdrawing her knife as a figure dressed all in blue slammed into the door from the other side.

Sparkling green eyes that shot straight to Annabeth. Messy black hair.

“Morning, Wise Girl,” Jackson said with a wide smile.

“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth responded crisply. “There’s noise.”

Jackson made a point of staring around with a wide-eyed gaze. “I don’t hear anything.”

Jason appeared in the doorway behind Jackson and folded his arms, shaking his head. Piper’s heart jumped as the two of them made eye contact.

“Come with me now, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth’s voice was artificially sweet, but Jackson leaned towards Annabeth like he thought it was real. “Remember our deal. You keep me from the knocking.”

“No problem at all,” Jackson said, his smile turning embarrassed. “Well, I tried. Did you know Hephaestus isn’t here today? That’s already a miracle.”

“Well, too bad,” Annabeth deadpanned, “But until my finals are over, you’re just going to have to keep coming up with miracles.”

“I can do that,” Jackson shrugged. “You just need to trust me.”

“Idiot,” Annabeth muttered under her breath. “So, come on…Take off your shirt and we can go over and get them to stop.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, and Piper’s jaw dropped.

Did Annabeth really just say that? Annabeth I-care-only-for-perfection-and-I-destroy-men’s-egos Chase really just told this random hot boy to take off his shirt?

“Maybe we should leave this conversation,” Jason said to Piper from over Percy’s shoulder, “Getting caught between an idiot and a smart girl with a knife is not the best of places to be.”

“I have to agree,” Piper said, smirking at Annabeth’s narrowed gaze. “I’ve got a lunch meeting with Leo Valdez, actually. Do you know him?”

Jason quirked an eyebrow. “Leo Valdez? He’s been my best friend for the past couple years. He rooms here, actually.”

“Oh?” Piper hummed. “Maybe we should go…now.”

Jason glanced back at the rapidly heating gaze between Annabeth and Jackson. “That sounds good. See you later, ‘Seaweed Brain’. Don’t ruin our house.”

“Oh, I’m not ruining anything,” Jackson said, eyes still on Annabeth, “How could I when I’m so busy making miracles?”

Jason rolled his eyes and stepped past Jackson and Annabeth to stand with Piper in the lift lobby.

Now that he was standing beside her, Piper could see that he was taller than she’d expected, and that his shoulders were broader than she’d first anticipated. A little scar trailed at the corner of his lips.

“You look…kind of familiar,” Jason said, furrowing his brows. “Sorry…are you in a movie or something?”

Piper’s heart plummeted. No way. How could he know? Already?

Jackson laughed. “Oh come on, Jason! If you wanna say she’s pretty, just say it!”

Jason’s cheeks reddened, and Piper let out a sigh of relief. She grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him into the freshly arrived lift.

“Alright, let’s get out of here before those two destroy the entire building with their tension.”

Jackson just laughed, while Annabeth turned to shout at them as the lift doors closed.

“PIPER MCLEAN YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK—”

--

“So, you really want me to take my shirt off?” Percy smiled down at Annabeth, hoping that it wasn’t obvious how nervous he was.

She snorted. “Don’t get too excited, Jackson. We’re going to pull the girlfriend ploy again, and you’ll ask for…ahem…a nice romantic afternoon.”

Percy swallowed trying his level best to keep his eyes up as Annabeth studied him with a critical eye. Storm-grey, narrowed in thought, her nose wrinkling just slightly as she did so, those pretty blonde curls falling over her neck and outlining those tanned shoulders.

“Oh? So can I hope that you mean any part of it?”

Percy didn’t know what it was really, but making her blush and scowl gave him a rush like one would not believe.

She did both at that very moment, and she gestured with her knife for good measure. “Don’t overestimate yourself, Seaweed Brain. Let’s go. Shirt off.”

“Hey, hey, I just told you Hephaestus isn’t here today,” Percy protested. “I don’t think the girlfriend ploy is going to work on Tyson.”

“If it worked on Hephaestus it’ll work on anyone,” Annabeth’s tone brooked no argument. “Shirt off. We’re going to make this work.”

“Well, Tyson is…” Percy’s voice trailed off as Annabeth arched an eyebrow, sliding the knife back into its sheath on her waist. Percy watched those long fingers tap suggestively against the knife, and decided that maybe it was a good time to stop talking.

This was going to be a disaster, but if it meant that he might get a date with this devastatingly beautiful woman, maybe it would be worth it. Gods knew he was good at embarrassing himself normally anyway.

“Alright, Wise Girl, you win,” Percy shrugged, and pulled off his shirt, feeling self-conscious already even Annabeth’s eyes swept over him, even when he knew that she’d seen it before, just yesterday, in fact.

“But when this fails, I have a proposition for you.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “My plans don’t fail. Mess up your hair more.”

Percy reached up to muss up his own hair, then looked pointedly at Annabeth. “Why don’t you do the same?”

“I came prepared,” Annabeth retorted. “Watch.”

She pulled a grey scrunchie from her shorts and put her hair up into a messy ponytail that exposed her slender neck and made her look absolutely adorable.

It was the perfect recreation of a freshly woken up girl, down to the few strands that Annabeth had artfully missed and left hanging down her face and ears.

Percy had to resist the urge to reach up and put her hair into place. He sighed. Things were really going to go way too far, but he was pretty sure that he didn’t care.

Annabeth marched the two of them over to the apartment, and repeated that little annoying knock of hers. Things were probably about to take an…odd turn.

The door opened practically the moment Annabeth’s hand left the door, and was filled by a beaming, six foot five man with one working eye.

“Tyson, hey, how are things!” Percy stepped forwards to quickly hug his half-brother before Annabeth could bring things towards a catastrophic misunderstanding. “Are you uh, are you guys done?”

“Not even close!” Tyson said cheerfully, “We’ve barely gotten started on the overflow sump. Say, do you know—”

“Er, not now, Tyson,” Percy said quickly, “Oh, this is um, my friend Annabeth. She’s got an exam coming up and um…she’d like to ask if you guys could…y’know…take the afternoon off or something.”

Tyson frowned. “No can do, brother. Hephaestus would throw me straight out. And anyway, shouldn’t you be glad that we’re working on it so fast?”

Percy cut her eyes towards Annabeth again, who was rubbing her eyes and yawning, before wrapping her arms around Percy’s elbow, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“It’s not just the exam,” Annabeth sighed, “But I just…I can’t really concentrate the way I normally am with Jackson. And I…well, I was hoping this week could be…the week.”

Tyson’s eyebrows shot so high Percy was surprised they didn’t instantly meld with his hair.

“Wait…the two of you are…”

Percy made pleading eye contact with Tyson, doing his level best to project a single thought into Tyson’s head: Just play along.

“Yeah, we met last week on the quad,” Annabeth sighed, fluttering her eyes just a little as she turned towards Percy, those grey eyes dancing with mischief and affection.

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah. Can’t believe I’ve never noticed her before. And when we first talked, I…well, I couldn’t believe no one had made a move on someone like this yet.”

Annabeth’s eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, and she tugged Percy even closer, causing his right shoulder to dip towards her. Her grip, Percy was noticing, was like iron. She might even beat Frank in arm wrestling.

“Awww,” Tyson cooed, his face melting into a soppy smile. “Bro, that’s awesome! I mean, you haven’t had a girlfriend since eighth grade, so we were getting a little worried that you would marry a fish.”

Percy gave Tyson a mock scowl. “Very funny, bro. Anyway, yeah, I hate to ask this, but is there any way you could…take like an hour off? Like interval training, yeah? Two on, one off? I’m sure we won’t need too long.”

Annabeth’s grip tightened further, and Percy shot her an annoyed glance. “Ow!”

“Don’t be so crude, Jackson,” Annabeth said flippantly, “I’m sure I could find a way to make things last.”

She ended that sentence with a tilt of the head and a wink that instantly dried the back of his throat, and made Percy very aware that he was shirtless, with a really pretty girl stuck to his side.

Tyson cleared his throat, and Percy could see a flush starting to build on his cheeks as well. “Well…we can do an extended lunch break, but the rest of the boys do things the old way. It’s a miracle Hephaestus even granted me provisional lead today.”

Tyson’s eyes lit up. “Wait, what about Leo’s chamber?”

“What about it?” Percy frowned.

“I triple reinforced it two days ago when you were at the aquarium,” Tyson said, flapping a hand. “Honestly I think nothing will get through.”

“Huh,” Percy muttered. “No wonder the house got a little softer yesterday.”

“Um, what’s Leo’s chamber?” Annabeth looked quizzically at Percy.

Tyson furrowed his brow. “You didn’t give her the house tour?”

“Well,” Percy waggled his eyebrows, “…I showed her my room.”

Annabeth jabbed Percy’s side. “Ow!”

“Jackson here is a bit of an idiot when it comes to social cues,” Annabeth cut in, her tone a flawless mixture of fondness and irritation, “As I’m sure you’re aware. Kept making excuses for me to stay in his room. You know; why don’t you read this article about octopi? Let me tell you the exact shade of blue my bedsheets are and how it matches the…Sargasso sea or whatever it was.”

“Hey!” Percy jabbed Annabeth in the side, but she barely flinched, instead turning her head to hit him with a smirk that was just straight up unfair.

“She’s making that up,” Percy turned to Tyson. “You know me, I’m cool. And smooth.”

Annabeth laughed. “You fell asleep on a bench, Jackson. I only woke you up because you drooled all over your sweater.”

Percy swallowed. This woman was going to be the death of him. How did she know?

“Alright, alright, you win,” Percy pulled Annabeth fully into his arms, smiling as her eyes widened as her hands came to rest on his bare chest. “Let’s stop bothering Tyson, and I can show you to Leo’s chamber. I promise, nothing can interrupt you there.”

Annabeth’s eyes went from shock to suspicion, and then slipped back into mischief and challenge.

“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “You know what? I’m tired. Why don’t you carry me down to my apartment, and then you can help me carry up my things to this…chamber.”

The audacity. This woman. Percy gritted his teeth. His back was still aching from his extra-long session in the pool. “Sure. You better not regret that.”

In one swift move, he scooped up Annabeth into his arms, drawing a surprised yelp from the girl, whose ponytail settled in his elbow, her long, muscular legs curled up towards her chest.

 Grey eyes scowling up at him. Percy couldn’t quite look away for a second.  

“I’ll…leave you to it.” Tyson shook his head, sighing. “You two are getting as bad as Grover and Juniper, that old goat.”

Percy barely had time to process that before Tyson closed the door with a flourish.

--

“Relax, man, you’ve got this,” Leo was saying on through the phone. “Listen, Frank, I’ve been on a thousand half-dates, and the best part of all of them is that you get to reuse your best material.”

“I don’t have any material,” Frank hissed down the line. “You know this, Leo. I’m not great with this whole…dates thing.”

A sigh. “Okay, so…what’s your plan?”

Frank ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Um…okay, I’m treating her to ambrosia. And nectar.”

“Then?”

“Um…yeah. That’s uh…that’s it.”

Leo groaned. “Man, come on! Today is probably the day you can get away with anything, Frank, anything! Think about it, what’s today for you and her?”

Frank blinked. “I don’t know…finals?”

“Yes! Frank, the post-finals buzz is the ultimate icebreaker, and the ultimate way to invite her to go somewhere with you today for some…times.”

Frank could hear Leo’s suggestively twitching eyebrows through the phone. “No, no, that’s not…I’m not bringing her to like…a club or something.”

“Don’t bring her to watch a History Channel documentary,” Leo advised, “I know that’s what you were thinking, right?”

Frank groaned. It really didn’t help that Leo was absolutely spot-on, he had been thinking of asking her to go to the Pilturn Theatre downtown, where a special screening of his favourite documentary on the Napoleonic Wars was being held.

He’d actually planned on seeing it himself that evening, and he was good friends with the ticket guys at the Pilturn. Leo, of course, had shot down that plan with ease, simply by mentioning it.

“Okay, Mr Flamin’ Hot,” Frank shot, “What’s your suggestion?”

There was a shuffling and the sound of typing. “What did you say her name was?”

“Hazel,” Frank said. “Our year. Geology.”

“Geo-lo-gy,” Leo muttered. The typing intensified.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked. “I hope it isn’t anything illegal.”

“No, no,” Leo said unconvincingly.

Frank pinched his nose. “Leo, we talked about this. The NSA already sent you that letter last spring, and I don’t want to remove another hidden camera from the doorway.”

“If it helps,” Leo offered, “I’m only hacking the Olympus U servers. And I’m not even going to impersonate Coach Hedge in a school-wide email again.”

“What are you doing?” Frank asked again.

“Don’t worry, I’m done,” Leo replied. “Hazel Levesque. Wow, she’s really cute. And smart. Straight As, a research collaboration with the government of Namibia and the state of Montana.”

Frank’s jaw dropped. “You just breached her privacy.”

“Well, hold on, the only breach I did was to scan OU records of girls named Hazel in Year 3 Geology. And okay, their registered addresses too to make sure that it’s the one from our apartment block, but the rest…the rest is from her LinkedIn, the school paper, and Instagram. She has no pictures up, by the way. Social media presence is close to zero.”

“How’d you know she was cute?” Frank asked, a sudden and unexpected venom surging into his voice.

“She’s tagged in a group photo with this adorable beanie and…no way!”

“What now?” Frank rubbed his forehead.

Leo was getting excited now. That usually meant he had a plan, and often these plans were ingenious to the point of stupidity. “Okay, so it looks like she’s roommates with…Piper McLean!”

“That’s the music girl you’ve been trying to get, yeah?” Frank shrugged. “What about it?”

“Well, Frank,” Leo said, “I’ve convinced Piper to go on a lunch date with me, and play with me at the Altue Café on Sixth. What better date than a real meal, with a friend to keep her calm, and me as your greatest wingman!”

Frank sighed. “That…is probably a good idea, actually. Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Frank?”

His heart leapt in his chest. Frank turned; he’d been waiting in the cafeteria for the past ten minutes, hoping that Hazel remembered, and she did.

“I’ll call you back,” Frank muttered, hanging up on Leo instantly. Hazel wore a bright, relieved smile.

“Hey, Hazel. So um…ambrosia?”

“Sure,” she replied. “Lead the way.”

--

Annabeth felt a little guilty when she saw Jackson brace the drafting table against his bare chest. Well, a little guilty more because of the view rather than the obvious struggle he was having with the heavy wooden desk.

“Don’t they make these out of plastic these days?” Jackson grunted. “You know that this isn’t the fifteenth century, right?”

Annabeth shook her head, double-checking that all her papers and stationery were in her briefcase.

“I like to take inspiration from the greats,” Annabeth shrugged. “Also, I got this at a discount downtown.”

“Oh, the greats,” Jackson said, “Yeah, I know them. Um…Michelangelo…Raphael…Leonardo.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow, I’m surprised you could name more than one architect at all. Even if they weren’t primarily architects; Michelangelo was a sculptor and painter first, Raphael mostly painted as well, and Da Vinci…well, I consider him an inventor first.”

Jackson grinned awkwardly. “Um…yeah. Yeah, I knew that.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Just say it, Jackson. You watched the Turtles when you were a kid.”

“Who says I don’t watch the Turtles now?” Jackson shot back, turning sideways to inch into his apartment door.

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh a little, which was somewhat concerning. Why was she giggling like those bleach-blonde idiots back in San Francisco?

“You must really be into marine biology to watch the Turtles now,” Annabeth commented as she stepped ahead of him into the living room, which was surprisingly neat for an all-boys apartment. “Okay, which one is Leo’s ‘chamber’?”

“Down the corridor, second door on the left,” Percy grunted as he readjusted his grip. His biceps stood out clearly, which was something that Annabeth was not paying attention to, just an observation.

Annabeth stepped into the corridor, and paused at the first, half-open door.

“Is that your room, Jackson?”

His voice went up just a little. “No. Definitely not. That’s…Jason’s room.”

“I don’t think Jason would have a Finding Nemo poster over his bed,” Annabeth said thoughtfully. She raised an eyebrow at the room, half-filled with cardboard boxes and with clothes scattered across the floor.

It had been an educated guess, but one that had seemed all too accurate, and Annabeth couldn’t help but turn and give Jackson a smug smirk.

“So…what kind of blue are your bedsheets?”

“Teal,” Jackson grumbled, “and the Sargasso Sea isn’t that colour. How’d you even know?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“And the…the drool thing. Why’d you say that?” Jackson was shaking his head in disbelief.

“Look down at your left collar,” Annabeth said flippantly as she moved on to open the door to Leo’s chamber.

Jackson swore behind her, and Annabeth just couldn’t stop the smile on her face.

It had been the first thing she’d noticed that morning, the bleary-eyed Jackson clearly just awake, the darkened patch on his left collar down to the shoulder of his shirt a clear sign of his sleeping habits.

Leo’s chamber was a mess too, tools and metal bits all over the floor, the room somehow smaller and tighter than it looked on the outside.

 The room itself was quite sparse a mattress, a drum kit, no less than five fire extinguishers, and a worktable that held a metre-long bronze dragon head.

Annabeth’s feet sunk down into the floor. She looked down, frowning.

“Is that…”

Jackson came in behind her. “Yep. Scuse me, Wise Girl.”

Annabeth scowled. “That’s a horrible nickname.”

“Seaweed Brain isn’t much better,” Jackson replied, exhaling as he placed the drafting table down onto a solid plate in the middle of the room.

Annabeth turned slowly, her eyes scanning. The floor was covered by a carpet that was seemingly made out of foam, and the walls were tighter because they too were covered entirely by a layer of jagged, wavy square panels.

Ah. The drums.

“Leo calls it the Sea of Foam,” Jackson said, looking around at the room. “It works pretty well, honestly. If it didn’t, Frank would never have roomed with Leo. Say hi to Festus, Annabeth, he’ll be your supervisor for today.”

Annabeth arched an eyebrow at the dragon head, whose eyes lit up red at the sound of Jackson’s voice.

A sonorous voice that sounded suspiciously like Eddie Murphy echoed out from the dragon’s mouth.

“Hello, Annabeth. I’m Festus, the great dragon. I owe my life to Leo Valdez, the greatest inventor in New York City. Simply speak my name and I shall endeavour to assist you in any way I can. It’s a pleasure to be your study companion today.”

“Hello, Festus,” Annabeth crossed her arms as she stepped closer to the dragon head, curious. “How do you work?”

“Leo Valdez, the greatest inventor in New York City, designed my AI interface three years ago, and put me into this gorgeous head of bronze after my main body was destroyed during a robotics testing malfunction. I am here to be your close confidante, personal assistant, and personal chef.”

Jackson snorted. “Festus’ barbecue mode is closer to arson, but I have to admit he does do a great crème brulee.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Leo gave this dragon a blowtorch?”

“Working flamethrower,” Jackson replied. “Hence the fire extinguishers.”

Annabeth pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Wonderful. I’m sure I’ll have a great time here.”

“Yeah,” Jackson smiled.

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“So…” Annabeth said carefully, “Um…see you later? Sorry, I…I prefer to work alone.”

“Oh!” Jackson ran a hand through his hair, his eyes panicked. “Er, yeah. Of course. Of course. Sorry, I um, yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll go.”

She didn’t know what made her do it, but she reached out and snagged Jackson’s wrist. “But…tell me when you’re going to get dinner. I, well, I have a habit of…totally losing track of time.”

Jackson’s eyes lit up, and Annabeth’s heart lurched.

“Yeah. Yeah! Um…I’ll leave you to it then.”

Giving her one last smile, Jackson lightly closed the door behind him. Annabeth let out a breath, and opened her briefcase, stacking her papers and pencils neatly on the drafting table. The pure silence of the soundproofed room was honestly almost unnerving.

“Hey, Festus?”

The dragon’s eyes lit up again. “Yes, Annabeth?”

“What kind of music do you have?” Annabeth sharpened her pencil casually.

“Leo Valdez, the greatest inventor in New York City, has granted me premium access to every music streaming site in the world.”

Annabeth glanced up and around herself by instinct. If Piper ever found out, she would hold it against Annabeth for the rest of her life.

“Festus, would you please play Fearless by Taylor Swift?”

--

Things had been starting to look up for Leo Valdez, but now they were kind of looking back down, which was the way things always seemed to be for him.

Firstly, he’d actually managed to convince one of the hottest girls in school to meet him for lunch, which was a huge win considering that he hadn’t actually been trying this time. He’d just been blazing out in the jam room when there’d been a knock on the door.

Leo knew that Piper McLean lived in his block, because he’d been stuck in the elevator quite a bit with nervous looking guys (and an equal number of girls) with flowers that had Piper’s name attached in suitably try-hard cursive.

It was another thing to have Piper McLean leaning on the door casually as though she weren’t the girl who accidentally became a Gucci model, and asking if she could talk to him about recording drums for a project. He'd gone to her house, and while fiddling with matches, nearly burnt down the kitchen.

Fortunately, he was a great firefighter. Years of experience, and all that. 

Then, he’d secured them a gig spot at the exclusive Altue Jazz Café, complete with complimentary lunch, and Leo was beginning to think that things were going to fall his way at last.

It was the most promising date he’d been on ever since that violent blonde British exchange student last fall.

And trust me, he’d been on a lot of first dates, and no second dates, since then.

So, the sinking feeling of his near-perfectly machined plan falling apart started when Piper texted him asking him if it was okay if Jason came along to lunch.

The first hints of the flaw was the previous day, when Festus’ AI had accidentally booked a four-person table instead of two, and that left Leo with no reason to refuse Jason’s presence.

To make matters worse, Jason was…well, Jason. The literal golden boy, with his blonde hair and those stupid glasses.

Leo couldn’t even bring himself to dislike Jason, because they’d been friends for years and understood each other too well to ever stop, and because he was a genuinely nice person, and that was incredibly hard to find.

Leo could already see where this was going, but he told himself that there was no harm in trying…right? After all, Piper McLean had rejected quite an astonishing number of incredibly good-looking suitors already (there was this rumour Drew Tanaka had actually tried, which was hilarious) so maybe she liked the quirky guys.

Like him.

Leo straightened the collar of the only polo shirt he had as the door to the café swung open, and there they were.

“Hey, you made it!” Leo put on his boldest grin, which melted into a genuine smile when Jason went straight for the fist bump without even giving Piper a sideways glance.

Jason shook his head. “Sorry to jump in so late, but Piper here can be very persuasive when she wants to be.”

“I usually am,” Piper snarked back, that heavenly voice of hers lined with an extra purr in it that probably would’ve buckled Leo’s knees if they were alone. It did not escape his attention that the line was directed towards Jason, who seemed…unfazed.

Was that even allowed?

“Well, what was the emergency that denied you the chance to keep scrolling through satellite imagery for an hour?” Leo asked Jason.

Jason smiled as he drew a chair for Piper to sit down…beside Leo, and as he settled into his own seat opposite.

Damn Jason’s spectacular tactical mind. Piper McLean was sitting right next to him, all pretty smirks and mind-boggling fashion despite being in ratty streetwear.

“Oh, it was the Angel of Death,” Jason said, stifling a laugh.

Piper arched an eyebrow. “Wow, is that what you guys call her?”

“It’s what Percy Jackson calls her,” Leo waved a hand. “He came stumbling back from his swim yesterday proclaiming that the end times were here because he’d just met the angel of death. But you know, he was in drama club in high school. A lot of Greek tragedies.”

“Well, Annabeth is scary,” Piper muttered. She shuddered dramatically, and Leo took this chance to sling an arm casually around the back of her chair.

“No need to fear, Piper,” Leo waved magnanimously, “Leo Valdez is here.”

Piper snorted. “She’d cut you to ribbons, Leo, but I appreciate the spirit.”

Jason nodded. “You should’ve seen it, Leo. I opened the door this morning and Annabeth stuck a knife right up in my face.”

Leo’s jaw dropped. “I thought I was the psycho one!”

“Nope,” Piper said, popping the P as she said it, her profile distractingly attractive against the faint sunlight angling in from the windows.

Leo could feel Piper leaning in towards him, and she gave him a quizzical glance. “Leo, do you have a radiator strapped to your chest or something?”

“Oh, well,” Leo laughed, “I guess I’m just naturally…hot.”

He waggled his eyebrows, and his heart jumped when Piper giggled, a tinkling sound that drew Leo closer like a moth to a flame.

A quick side eye confirmed that Jason, somehow, had not budged, maintaining his straight back and sending Leo an encouraging smile.

“Alright,” Piper said, “So, Leo. We’re good on The Way You Look Tonight?”

Leo nodded, his mind racing quickly through the charts for the song, his fingers rapping quickly on his knees.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re good. I think I want to redo Summertime on a softer kit, though.”

Piper chewed on her bottom lip distractedly. “Hmm. Yeah, that would work better.”

Jason finally broke his silence.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Jason cleared his throat, looking tentatively at Piper. The look of puzzlement on his face was starting to give Leo a sinking feeling.

It was not like Jason to ever just blurt out his thoughts freely.

“Do what?” Piper’s face shifted into confusion and mild alarm. “What?”

Jason pushed up his glasses, in what Leo realized was a nervous tic. “Bite your lip. Um, my sister always told me that was a bad habit.”

Piper gave Jason a broad smile, and Leo sighed mentally. Well, he was getting certain that he’d lost that one.

Leo was starting to think about various ways to reposition himself at this table so that he wasn’t clearly half-blocking Piper and Jason. He was halfway through reprogramming Roombas to move the chairs when Piper suddenly stood and waved across towards the café’s performance stage.

“Hi!”

Piper leapt out of the chair to pounce on a woman who had just emerged from backstage. “You didn’t tell me that you were performing tonight!”

“Happy to see you too, Piper,” the woman said. She was shorter than Piper, and so was obscured from Leo’s vision. “I just wish you had more decorum.”

Her voice was just like Piper’s; it had some extra depth to it, some little hum that made her sound like a goddess was speaking.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Piper retorted.

“Are you here on a double date?” the woman asked. “I see two boys and only you, Piper.”

“It’ll be a double date if you join in,” Piper said, and she latched an arm onto the woman’s dragging her reluctantly towards the table, a slender figure in a pure white dress, a neat, thick braid of caramel hair obscuring her face as she turned away.

“No, no, Piper, let me go.”

“You need to start meeting people,” Piper said flippantly, shooting Jason and Leo a wink. “And I’m surprisingly good at spotting these things.”

She shot Jason a look which Leo was getting very suspicious of. Jason gave Leo an apologetic smile, and before Leo could realise what was happening, Jason smoothly slid out of his seat to allow Piper to force the woman down onto the chair opposite Leo.

Oh, they were good. Leo definitely wasn’t going to interrupt whatever they had going on. Another half first date added to the list, Leo thought, resigned.

“Piper!” the woman hissed, and Leo got a good look at her for the first time.

Uh oh. Porcelain skin, wide, dark eyes, delicate features. Prettiest girl he’d ever seen, full stop. The cutest blush in the universe on her cheeks as she stared him down like a princess.  

“Leo,” He could hear the triumphant tone in Piper’s voice, “This is my music senior, Calypso. Calypso, this is Leo.”

“Hey,” Leo said weakly.

--

Percy looked at himself in the mirror and tried to hype himself up again.

“You’ve got this,” he muttered. “You’re good at this. This is your chance.”

He looked down at himself. A Monterey Bay Aquarium t-shirt and shorts. Two cheeseburgers sitting on the dinner table outside. Did she like cheeseburgers? Everyone like cheeseburgers, didn’t they?

Well, except for lactose intolerant people.

But the odds were good that she wasn’t lactose intolerant.

Percy cleared his throat and went up to the door of the Sea of Foam. He raised a fist to knock, then reconsidered. Before he knew it, he was doing his warmup stretches in the corridor, as though jumping off the diving board or racing in the finals was as nerve-wracking as opening this door.

He was stretching out his hamstring when he finally decided to knock.

There was no response. Percy knocked again. He took a big breath and cracked open the door.

“Annabeth?”

The first thing that hit him was a wave of very recognizable synth-pop. The second thing was that Annabeth was still focused entirely on the drafting table, surrounded by scattered and crumpled papers, her pencil scribbling away as she worked, her laptop open behind her, displaying a dizzyingly detailed schematic that Percy’s brain ignored as too complicated.

She didn’t look up, humming along to the song, and Percy stepped into the room.

“Wise Girl? Hello?”

It was Festus who replied first, “Hello, Seaweed Brain.”

Annabeth jerked up from the table, her arm flowing out in to an instinctive move. Percy saw her eyes widen in recognition at the last second, and the knife embedded itself into the wall half a meter to Percy’s right.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Annabeth demanded, blushing furiously under her tanned skin as she stormed forwards to pluck the knife from the wall. It was adorable. “Festus, stop the music.”

“At once, Annabeth.”

“I did. Twice,” Percy raised his eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Annabeth muttered. “I just…it’s the best period of work I’ve had all week.”

Percy felt a twinge of guilt in his chest.

“Sorry about that,” Percy muttered. “But um, I got us dinner. Cheeseburgers and milkshakes from Bruce’s down the street.”

Annabeth nodded approvingly. “Best burgers in the city.”

“Exactly!” Percy couldn’t help but smile again, and Annabeth gave him a flicker of a smile before sheathing her knife.

“So, um, it was good?” Percy gestured to the chamber. “I’ll talk to Leo about letting you use it tomorrow too.”

Annabeth shook her head. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m nearly done, and I think I’ve imposed too much already. You’ve…done good.”

She said it reluctantly, but Percy’s heart began to race nonetheless. “So, you’re saying that I’m winning our deal?”

Annabeth wagged a finger at him. “Hey, think again, Seaweed Brain. Deal isn’t done until my final project is in my professor’s hands and submitted.”

Something occurred to Percy then, “Hey…Festus, why’d you call me Seaweed Brain?”

“It seemed a fitting moniker,” Festus replied, “And besides, Annabeth referred to you that way during our—”

“Festus!” Annabeth snapped.

Percy’s grin was already widening further. “You talked to Festus about me?”

“No!” Annabeth’s cheeks were growing red again.

“Hey, Festus,” Percy called, but then there was a hand closing around the collar of his shirt and dragging him out of the Sea of Foam. “Could you tell me what Annabeth said?”

“Sorry, Seaweed Brain,” Festus’ voice drifted around the corner of the door, “But Leo Valdez, the greatest inventor in New York City, has programmed me with strict confidentiality parameters.”

Annabeth settled down huffily at the dining table, snatching up one takeaway box and unwrapping her burger. She ate quickly, scarfing down the burger, and making the occasional noise that Percy was not thinking about, no ma’am, he was an honest and normal boy.

It was not often that anyone ate as quickly as Percy did, but today Annabeth beat him handily, disposing of her trash neatly and immediately washing her hands thoroughly.

“That was good, huh?” Percy asked.

Annabeth cracked a smile. “Yeah. They really know just how to get the cheese to patty ratio just right.”

“I’m sorry about this whole thing,” Percy said again guiltily. “Probably interrupted one of the biggest moments of your life so far, huh?”

Annabeth sighed. “Well, okay, this part…hasn’t been so bad. Yesterday…yesterday was good. And you’re not bad company. It’s refreshing to have to talk to an idiot.”

There was a smile in her voice, and Percy clutched his chest dramatically. “Ow. You’re telling me none of your roommates are like me? Every room has a troublemaker. Leo’s the idiot of this household. Who’s yours?”

She tapped a finger to her lips. “Well, I suppose it’d have to be Piper. She’s got this…like drama field around her, and something is always going off the rails or she’s getting mixed into some weird artsy thing that eventually becomes an emergency.”

“Oh, right,” Percy realized. “The Drew Tanaka thing. The Gucci thing.”

“The Redlight Festival,” Annabeth added, rolling her eyes, “The entire love square thing. On and on. It’s a miracle that Hazel and I have kept Piper alive for so long.”

“Well, you’re really good at that,” Percy leaned forwards instinctively. “The whole protective streak thing. Do you have siblings?”

Her face shuttered.

“Half-brothers,” Annabeth muttered. “My dad remarried after my mom left him. They’re good kids.”

Percy swallowed, reaching out a hand slowly. “Hey. I know what that’s like. My dad…he skipped out on my mom as well. But my mom’s a great person. She raised me, and even took in Tyson. He’s my half-brother too. On my dad’s side.”

Annabeth laughed, but Percy could hear the start of tears in it. “Wait, so he’s not related to your mom at all?”

“Nope,” Percy said proudly. “But he’s my brother. After his mom passed, my mom took him in.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Annabeth’s voice was wistful.

“She is,” Percy said quietly.

Annabeth rubbed at her eyes. “My mom…she visits, occasionally. High-powered DC lawyer, couldn’t be bothered to stay with my dad in San Francisco after she got promoted.”

“I don’t even know where my dad is,” Percy remembered the days when he pretended his dad was an actual someone, not some deadbeat who’d run off and left his mom having to marry her art distributor to keep afloat.

But Gabe Ugliano was another matter.

“He was a mariner, and you know the saying,” Percy shrugged. “Girl in every port and all that. Haven’t seen him since I was sixteen. He popped in, gave me a pair of binoculars, and within the next hour his ship was sailing out of the harbour. Nothing since. Don’t even know if he’s alive.”

There was silence.

Then Annabeth’s hand curled around his, and she lifted her milkshake. Percy blinked for a couple seconds before understanding.

“Oh,” he said stupidly, before raising his milkshake to tap against Annabeth’s.

She shook her head in exasperation, but her eyes were fond, and understanding. And Percy had never felt more connected to someone before. He held a finger up and quickly stepped over to the sideboard to take up the good bottle of whisky that Dionysus sold at a reluctant discount to them after they’d helped him fix his toilet.

He poured her a glass, and one for himself.

Annabeth raised her milkshake first. “To shitty parents.”

When they were done, they raised the glasses of whisky.

“And shitty step-parents,” Percy added.

Annabeth took a long drink, and Percy felt like this toast was the beginning of something new.

--

Jason’s self-control and discipline were some of the things that he took pride in, it was what had driven him to the top of his field, to the top of the fencing glass, and to a minor in Latin, which had not been easy in the slightest.

So when it had taken him all of his control to try and help Leo with Piper, Jason had begun to wonder. It wasn’t about girls, he’d always been completely in control around most girls, even pretty ones.

Like his friend Reyna. Reyna was regally beautiful, and there had been a time when Jason might’ve given in and done whatever she wanted, but now they’d been friends for too long, she dovetailed too well as a companion.

Piper was…different. There was just something about her. Jason had heard, of course. The Iron Finger incident. The other Drew Tanaka thing. The fact that she had half of the school’s bachelors and bachelorettes wrapped around her finger without even trying.

Jason was determined not to be just another boy caught in her orbit, but this resolve was weakening with every flirty half-smile, flick of choppy brown hair, and glimpse of those unique kaleidoscopic eyes.

It didn’t help that she was genuinely funny, witty, and a great conversationalist. She had basically powered the entire conversation while Leo tried not to stare at Calypso, Calypso tried her best to ignore everyone, and Jason tried not to turn into a character from one of Frank’s Chinese dramas.

Speaking of Frank, things had gotten easier after Frank had arrived with Hazel, and Jason was starting to see that the renovation opposite might just be divine intervention.

Frank had never been so easygoing in public before, talking to Hazel, who was just a lovely ray of sunshine. The three of them sat there as the sun set, Hazel talking excitedly about the documentary that Frank had shown her that afternoon, and Jason happy to join in and discuss the Roman legions’ tactics and the effect they had on infantry warfare.

Leo, Piper, and Calypso had left to prepare their performance, which would lead off the café’s jazz night.

“Welcome, everyone to the Altue Café! We’ve got a whole bunch of talented young musicians waiting, and I’d like to give a warm welcome to Olympus University’s rising bass and vocal star, Piper McLean, with Calypso Atlas on piano, and Leo Valdez on drums!”

Jason turned immediately with military precision, his eyes seeking out and meeting Piper’s which sparkled in the stagelight.

Hazel smirked. “Ooh Jason, is that smile for Piper?”

“No…” Jason said unconvincingly.

“Well, if it is,” Hazel shrugged, “Don’t you dare break her heart. She hasn’t had a proper relationship since the start of year. Ever since the first Drew Tanaka thing.”

“Jason’s no stranger to Drew Tanaka, alright,” Frank snorted. “She tried to get into his pants for a year before Reyna threatened to take her car apart.”

“Reyna Arellano?” Hazel smiled. “I know her! She was in the Pool Society last year.”

They quietened down as the performance began, Calypso’s fingers gliding along the keys to coax out a series of jazzy chords, and Leo began a foot-stomping swing beat. Piper’s fingers made their way up along the upright double bass, thumping out a lovely bassline.

But her voice. Lined with velvet, just a little hint of a lower tone, and pure expressiveness.

“Summertime…and the living is easy. Fish are jumping, and the cotton is high…One of these mornings, you’re gonna rise up singing. Then you’ll spread your wings, and take to the sky…”

Jason had to remind himself to close his mouth. It was in the middle of winter outside, but suddenly, Jason felt terribly warm. Piper continued to sing, those eyes darting towards him every once in a while.

Hazel had her head leaning on Frank’s shoulder, and Leo and Calypso were somehow swapping flirty and annoyed glances respectively while keeping up their performance.

“But until that mornin’, there’s a nothing can harm you. With your daddy and mommy standin’ by.”

Jason couldn’t really do anything but stare, and even when the performance ended, and Piper was settling back to the table with them, he could only look at her in wonder, and marvel at the bashful glint in her eyes as she deflected their compliments.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asked him on the Uber back to the apartments much later that night.

“It’s rare to find someone so beautiful inside and out,” Jason replied seriously. Then he winced.

“Sorry, that was…that was really cheesy.”

Piper smiled back. “No, no, that’s fine. Overkill, but, I’ll take it. It’s just…you know, a lot of people look at me, and it’s always like…I don’t know, like they only like my voice, or my face, or my body, maybe they have some weird racist kink, or…”

“You’re rambling,” Jason smiled, adjusting his glasses. “And you are really…attractive, but I promise that I’m not…I don’t like you just because you’re pretty.”

“So you like me?” Piper asked, a faint smile twitching on her face.

Jason could feel the blush working its way along his cheeks. “Well…I guess I do. I think we’d make great friends.”

Piper burst out in laughter, and her body relaxed visibly. “I think you’re the first boy in the entire world to say that to me.”

“I’ll assume that’s a good thing,” Jason returned.

“It is,” Piper assured him. “So, friends for now, then. And then maybe after a couple dinners…we can decide whether we want to go further.”

“How about a late supper?” Jason offered. “Leo’s got quite the collection of instant ramen.”

“Leo can re-track those drums tonight as well,” Piper said thoughtfully. “That’s all I need to complete my project anyway. You’re on, Grace. I still haven’t seen the fabled Sea of Foam yet.”

And thus, that was how the entire group ended up stumbling into Jason, Leo and Frank’s apartment at just past midnight, with Leo only semi-drunk after they’d pulled him away from the bar.

Calypso leaving early had been a big blow to Leo’s ego, and he was a horrid drinker.

“Welcome,” Leo said triumphantly, “to the Sea of Foam.”

He opened the door with a flourish so big the door came back and hit Leo in the head.

Frank hooked an arm under Leo’s shoulder as they went into the room.

“Hey,” Leo slurred, “Who’s playing Taylor Swift? And who cut that hole into the foam wall?”

Jason stepped in with Piper, and their jaws dropped as one.

“Unbelievable,” Piper sniffed. “Never told me about the Taylor Swift.”

Jason had no clue what that meant, because he was mainly scratching his head at the sight ahead of him.

There was a big wooden table that definitely hadn’t been there that morning, and a neat stack of papers on it. Behind the table, asleep on the foam, were Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

Chapter Text

Annabeth woke up the next morning to faint hammering above her. There was a bit of it in her head as well, now that she considered the sensations flooding her senses. But that didn’t make sense. They didn’t keep alcohol in this household, ever since the aphrodisiac-spiked bottle that Piper had gotten last Valentine’s Day.

Then it hit her.

Jackson. The Sea of Foam. Festus. The toast to their shitty lot in life. Them consuming the entire bottle.

Annabeth shot awake and upright, afraid to open her eyes. Good gods. She remembered…well, not much, but the sensation of lying next to Jackson. His warm embrace. His breath on her ear. His heartbeat under her hand.

The sensation of bare skin.

Gods, what had happened?

Tentatively, she opened her eyes. Oh. She was in her bed. Alone.

Annabeth collapsed back into her sheets in relief, and a tiny bit of disappointment.

Well. At least today was her turn at the design studio, and with the façade designs completed, she could simply take the whole day in the studio to craft the model and fit it onto the structure that had already been done.

Annabeth slunk out of the room, crossing her fingers. The apartment seemed silent. There was no one in the living room, and Piper and Hazel’s doors were still shut. She breathed out a sigh of thanks that today was Saturday.

Piper always needed her beauty sleep, and Hazel was surely sleeping off the stress of the final.

No one standing between her and the coffee which would bring her back to full operation before they could pounce on her vulnerable state and extract secrets.

Annabeth only made it two steps into the kitchen before she smelt freshly ground coffee and turned around. Hazel was standing there innocently, and by the time Annabeth turned around again, Piper had popped up from behind the counter and was pouring out three cups of coffee.

Sighing, Annabeth stepped over and picked up her cup. “Alright, let’s get it over with.”

“When did you start dating him?” Hazel demanded.

Piper smirked. “So, how was the sex?”

Annabeth scowled, slamming the empty cup onto the counter forcefully. “The answer to both those questions is: he’s just a friend.”

Piper patted Annabeth’s head condescendingly. “That’s what they all say.”

Annabeth goosed Piper’s sides, feeling just a tad better when she yelped and backed away.

“Didn’t seem like just friends,” Hazel noted, adding sugar into her cup. “You two fell asleep together! It was so cute!”

Annabeth pointed an accusing finger at Hazel. “You take that back right now, before I think of an appropriate punishment.”

“But it was!” Hazel protested. “Annabeth, do you like…like him, like him?”

“Aww,” Piper cooed, “Hazel’s finally picking up that West Coast accent. Three ‘like’s in one sentence!”

Annabeth’s first instinct was to deny, deny, deny, but there was an annoyingly insistent bit deep inside her that was asking her the question; didn’t she kind of, sort of, really like Jackson?

“I…I don’t know,” Annabeth sighed, shrugging. “We got drunk last night, but I don’t…I don’t remember much of what happened. We talked, I think.”

“Nothing spicy?” Piper asked from arm’s length, eyes gleaming.

Annabeth tutted. “And you say you’re above gossip.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good spill,” Piper sniffed. “Especially when it concerns my bestest friend Annabeth Chase.”

“That’s not a word,” Annabeth pointed out. “You have been invalidated from this conversation.”

Hazel’s hand shot up. “Annabeth?”

Sighing Annabeth gestured for Hazel to proceed.

“Do you and him wanna come for lunch with me and Frank? It could be a double date.”

“Wait, who’s Frank?” Annabeth frowned. “You’re dating someone?”

“This was happening when you were getting plastered,” Piper laughed. “It turns out that your favourite swimming drinker has the best set of roommates ever. You met Leo Valdez when he tried to burn down the apartment last week, I think Jason and I are hitting it off really well, and the last one is Frank Zhang. Hazel’s new boyfriend.”

Hazel blushed. “We’re just friends for now. No need to go too fast, Piper.”

“Where’s the romance in that?” Piper fluttered her eyes. Sometimes the romantic mood really got into her, but of course, what would you expect from the daughter of an actor and a model?

“Speaking of fast, is it true your dad landed that job?” Annabeth began slathering on peanut butter and jam onto a slice of bread from the pantry.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Ugh, it is true. I told him not to take the job, but Vin Diesel promised he could drive his own stunt car.”

“I’m sure it’s a good role,” Hazel said primly.

“It’s a terrible role in a terrible movie,” Annabeth said bluntly, “But if that means he has enough money to do more indie flicks then I’ll live with it. He was terrific in the Gerwig movie.”

“Yeah,” Piper sighed. “He really wants to do another romcom soon. I should write the script, honestly, it’ll be about rivals who one day get drunk together, find out they have a lot in common, and then it cuts away but you know they totally had—”

This time, Piper dodged out of Annabeth’s charge, and hightailed it back into her room.

Annabeth shook her head, muttering to herself. Well, to the design studio, then, Annabeth said, taking a vicious bite out of her peanut butter and jam sandwich. The work would take over then, that comforting autopilot of design and assembly.

She dressed quickly, and left after knocking hard on Piper’s locked door.

“Remember what I said!” Hazel called. “Double date at Chevy’s? You can interrogate Frank the way you do anyone who asks about me. Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“I’m interrogating you about him later,” Annabeth growled. Hazel was right, she was off her game. Normally, Annabeth would’ve pounced on the subject and grilled Hazel about Frank down to the tiniest detail to make sure there was no chance that Frank was either a serial killer or a crypto bro.

Instead here she was, stepping into the elevator, her head still spinning and thinking…of him. Instinctively, she pressed the button for level 10.

“No!” Annabeth whispered, horrified. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Of course, Dionysus hadn’t bothered to update any of the lift’s systems in over a decade, so there was zero hope of cancelling the button.

The lift doors closed, and Annabeth took a deep breath, steeling herself. Her heart was pounding. Why was it pounding so hard? Her stomach felt like it was about to drop down into her intestines.

It was this strange, giddy feeling, and guilt. That maybe Jackson might have the wrong idea. Or the right idea. Or…Annabeth sighed. This was why she was an architect. Concrete and glass were never this problematic.

The lift doors dinged open, and Annabeth took a deep breath and looked out.

The lift lobby was empty. And the other lift was…on the 9th floor?

Annabeth shrugged as the doors closed. Well, it could easily have been Reyna coming back from her morning runs.

Just don’t think about it, Annabeth told herself. We’ll deal with it after finals. Can’t lose focus now.

But as she exited the lift, a memory came back, unbidden.

Jackson and her lying on their backs in the Sea of Foam. Him playing with a pen, her with the knife.

His arm comfortingly providing a rest for her head.

Her hair splayed out messily, her other hand aimlessly doodling on Jackson’s abs. Thinking about that bastard Luke Castellan. About smart, witty boys and fit idiots. Her heart clenches still when she thinks about Luke.

Jackson’s arm is warm under her neck, and her heart clenches again, in a different way.

“I just want to stay here forever,” Jackson whispers drunkenly.

Annabeth hums in agreement. “Just float along.”

“Yeah,” Jackson sounds so sad. “I lied, earlier. My father’s ship…I know what happened to it. Storm south of Cape Horn. They suspect it might’ve drifted south. Hit icebergs. Sometimes…sometimes I imagine this is how he felt. Drifting. Hopeless. That’s how I feel, anyway.”

Annabeth turns on her side, and Percy mimics her. She feels angry at Percy’s dad for leaving him behind, knows that pity doesn’t help, the way it never helped her. She feels angry at herself that she suddenly cannot think of anything to say.

 Their faces are so close.

She wishes things were different. She wishes that getting this close didn’t make her think of sharp blue eyes and a wicked scar.

“We’re not hopeless,” Annabeth murmurs.

“No,” Jackson agrees, his eyes tender. “No, we’re not.”

The blue eyes fade away, and all she sees is this beautiful sea green. Scar? What scar?

Annabeth moves closer, a little, and then all at once.

“Shit,” Annabeth muttered through her fingers, feeling her face heat up to uncomfortable levels. “Goddamn it.”

--

Percy felt the punch of his hands slicing into the water and reveled in the sensation. The slight sting of it as his face cut into the chlorinated water.

He welcomed the distraction, as he pumped his legs hard and felt the strain in his shoulders as he swung his arms forwards into the next stroke.

But it didn’t stop the thoughts from returning to his mind, those sparkling, hazy images that made his heart race and clench in alternate fashion. The whisky had been a mistake. Dionysus had not been joking at all when he had warned them that it was probably the most potent whisky in the world.

Percy probably should’ve realized this after a sunglasses-wearing figure that looked suspiciously like action star Tristan Hunter had discreetly slipped into Dionysus’ imperial office and emerged with five bottles of the stuff.

How did Tristan Hunter even know about Dionysus anyway?

Percy plunged his face into the water again, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

Grey eyes and blond curls haunted the edges of his vision.

“Your hair is so soft,” Annabeth is saying blearily. “I thought it’d be like seaweed.”

Percy laughs. “Jason’s a haircare freak. Surprising, I know.”

Annabeth giggles, and Percy can’t help but reach out. He’s trying to brush her hair, but his uncoordinated hand finds her collarbone instead.

“Oh. Um, sorry.” Percy immediately retracts his hand, only for Annabeth to grab it and pull it out, laying her head on it like a pillow. The pressure is oddly comforting.

“Don’t be,” Annabeth says. “What are friends for?”

Percy’s heart drops down a hole. “Um, we’re friends?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth resolutely does not meet his gaze, reaching out a hand and patting his stomach. “I mean, trauma bonding? We need…friends. I mean, our parents did a fucking number on us, huh? And Luke fucking Castellan.”

“Who’s Luke Castellan?” Percy asks, the words coming out even though he can hear the edge of pain and raw anger that tells him that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“He’s why I don’t think I’ll ever date again,” Annabeth mutters wistfully.

Percy closes his eyes and turns his head to look back up at the ceiling. Oh. There goes that dream.

With the soft foam under his back, and the whisky spinning his brain, he feels like he’s floating. Like a castaway thrown from a ship. The white-striped panels turn into looming icebergs, Festus into a faraway, sinking vessel.

And just like that, he’s thinking that thought again.

One thing keeps him anchored, though. Her head on his arm. For a second, he pretends that the conversation they had went another way.

Easy enough, time seems like an illusion right now.

“I just wanna stay here forever,” Percy whispers.

Percy’s hands slammed into the wall of the swimming pool, jamming his index finger with a sting that jerked him out of his rhythm.

Hissing under his breath, Percy reluctantly brought his legs down and stood, chest-deep, pulling up his goggles to take a quick look at his hand.

“Shitty form today, cupcake,” came an all-too-familiar roughshod voice. “You’re tenser than a virgin in a strip club.”

“You talking about yourself, Coach?” Percy managed with a smirk. It wasn’t his best zinger, but it did the job.

“I’ve been tipping singles since before your first bath, Jackson,” snorted Coach Hedge, five feet of stocky irritation and sports trivia, as he shook his head at Percy.

“Let me guess. Some girl.”

Percy swallowed. “No.”

“Hah! You gotta get up real damn early to think that you can pull one over on me, cupcake.” Hedge knelt down. “Come on, Jackson. I timed you. You’re putting in more energy than usual, but you’re a whole two seconds slower. Every stroke is messy, messy, messy. I know I ain’t Coach Triton, but even I can tell you ain’t all in up there.”

“It’s just a bad day,” Percy said resolutely. He wasn’t going to go whining to Coach Hedge, who had enough suppressed anger and violence to train Clarisse LaRue.

“Nah,” Hedge shook his head. “Nah. I can tell the difference, Jackson. This ain’t like when your pal Grover had that little disagreement with his treehugger girlfriend.”

Percy sighed. “Coach, we talked about that. Stop calling Juniper that.”

“Hey, it was her who literally hugged that tree in Central Park,” Hedge barked. “But anyway, Jackson, it’s a simple fix.”

“Oh yeah?” Percy said heatedly. “How?”

Hedge nodded, pleased. “That’s better, Jackson. Let the heat come on out. You need to work all this out of your system. Confront the ball head-on. You know, when the Beckendorf kid had his first breakup with the Silena girl, do you know what I did?”

Percy facepalmed. “Yes, Coach. I think half of New York knows this story…unwillingly, of course.”

“He comes in miserable, lost his eye for the ball like he’d put it on a plane to China,” Hedge carried on like Percy hadn’t said a word, “And I knew that if he went out to bat against Harvard like that, he’d strike out every time swinging on every pitch blindly.”

“So you put him in the cage,” Percy said, resigned.

“I put him in the cage,” Hedge said with pride, “And I told him that I’d drop him if he struck out twice in a row. And guess what? He swung angry, and he struck out three times in a row. So, I remember this like it was yesterday, I told him, Charlie, you’re not looking at where the ball will be, you’re just looking at the ball.”

“And then you told him that when you strike out in baseball, you’ll get another at bat. Strike out with a girl and you lose your heart,” Percy continued for Hedge in a monotone.

“Exactly, Jackson!” Hedge thumped his chest. “You gotta man up. Apologize, if the girl is worth it. Look at where you want to be, not where you are. I put him as leadoff in that game, and you know what happened?”

Listen, Beckendorf was one of Percy’s friends, and he really liked the guy, but he’d heard this story too many times over the past two years.

“Hits a ground ball straight to first, out,” Hedge said, complete with hand motions, “and then, at the very death. Oh for three, last batter, tied game, bottom of the ninth, two outs. Two balls, two strikes. Harvard’s closer spits out this vicious fastball, and then he sees it.”

“Yes, yes,” Percy clapped, “And he smashes the winning home run straight into the stands, goes running straight to Silena. He apologizes. She apologizes. All is forgiven. They kiss, and the camera pans out and shows the whole school celebrating on the field.”

“So you have heard of it!” Hedge exclaimed triumphantly. Percy exhaled in exasperation.

“Coach, I was there. We were all there. How does this help me, exactly?”

Hedge’s face became suddenly very serious. “Jackson. Listen to me. I want you to really listen this time, not that one-in, one-out bullshit you millennials are so damn good at.”

Percy closed his mouth and nodded to Hedge. Whatever you wanted to say about him, Hedge was one smart old goat, tough, capable, and maddeningly resourceful. He told things like they were.

“When I first found out that Mellie was expecting,” Hedge’s voice was gruff, “I didn’t come home for five days. Like a moron, Jackson. Like a total moron. Your man Grace and I had a good talk after fencing practice that day. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, that kid.”

Hedge patted Percy’s head absentmindedly. “We can’t control what other people do. It’s no use hoping that they’ll understand if you just back away. You may need a bit of time, Jackson, but I’m telling ya, you need a deadline. You need a last out, no back outs. You can set it yourself, or put it off until that third strike comes swinging in and kills you stone dead. Life is a whole lot of curveballs and hundred mile-an-hour fastballs. Take a breath, think about who you want to be, and swing. You do that, and you won’t regret anything.”

Percy swallowed. “Wow. Um. Thanks, Coach.”

Hedge stood up abruptly. “Get those strokes under control, Jackson. If you’re still swimming like a dying seal after this, I’ll ship you to the Australian coast myself. Heard the sharks love it there.”

“And I love the sharks,” Percy shot back, snapping his goggles back on. “See you, Coach.”

Percy turned and pushed off the ground, feeling his muscles and limbs settle into a natural, easy stroke which had evaded him for the past hour or so. It was Annabeth’s final period still, Percy told himself.

He could wait that long. Eye on where the ball will be. Eye on who he wanted to be. Percy counted himself lucky that Jason was a closet baseball statistician, or he might not have understood half of what Hedge was saying.

After all, he’d spent a lot of that Harvard game in a discreet prank war with the Stoll brothers.

Percy had won of course, through the use of Katie Gardner.

After his swim, Percy headed back up to the apartment, punching the button without thinking.

When the lift stopped on the ninth floor, his heart stopped for a second in his chest.

The doors opened, and with his luck, Percy was fully prepared to see Annabeth right in front of him. Instead, there was an empty lift lobby. Across the lobby, he could see the other lift was at the tenth floor.

No Annabeth to be seen. He wouldn’t disturb her, Percy decided. She probably didn’t want to see him right now, anyway.

As the doors closed on the ninth floor, they were also closing on the tenth floor, and as one elevator went up and the other went down, for a brief second, Percy and Annabeth would’ve been looking right at each other.

--

It was a bright day, and the latest posters for the next Mission Impossible were up as Piper and Jason strolled down the street.

Piper kept herself on the opposite side of the posters, selfishly hoping that if Jason kept looking at her, he wouldn’t glance at the posters for too long, and notice that one of the supporting characters below Tom Cruise’s face shared her high cheekbones and complexion.

It didn’t help that her dad had offered to take her and a plus one to the premiere. Piper had already lucked out that, early on his career, her dad had taken the stage name of Tristan Hunter, but a quick Wikipedia would unravel that pretty easily.

“So, which of the rumours are true?” Jason asked her, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Seeing as you’ve kind of been the centre of enough campus folklore to rival Homer.”

“I have not!” Piper protested weakly. “Can’t believe everything you hear.”

“Hazel told me that the Iron Finger story was true,” Jason raised an eyebrow, and Piper felt a blush steal in on her cheeks.

Piper usually took confidence in her mythos, some of which she cultivated herself, but in the face of this clean-cut Boy Scout type, she was actually just a little insecure.

And okay, she could admit that the whole Iron Finger thing had been a massive miscalculation on several levels. Annabeth had developed three separate Powerpoints and a labelled folder of references to help her through that particular mishap.

“Okay, well most of it is true,’ Piper said, sighing, “although anything you’ve heard about gross hookup stuff is totally false. I’ve gone on quite a few dates, and further a couple of times, but most of the rumours in that regard are just not true. Although there are quite a few love goddess stories that are tasteful enough, I suppose.”

Jason shrugged. “Well, I never heard about that stuff. It was just mostly which heart you broke or which girl wanted to rip your guts out next over something stupid.”

Piper breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, those are fine. You may treat those as vaguely true, if you wish.”

As they walked, they reached the restaurant, and Jason blew out a breath. “You’re sure about this?”

Piper nodded. “Oh, yeah. Trust me, this is going to work.”

“Mmm. I hope it’s more like Lecture Theatre Five than Firelight Festival,” Jason raised an eyebrow.

Piper was blushing again. “Okay, Firelight wasn’t even my idea. It was your sister’s idea, I just helped her push it.”

Thalia Grace was another certified madwoman, Annabeth’s former high school friend who popped in to drag them out on insane benders every few months before returning to her base in Georgia.

Seriously, Thalia was insane. Anyone who would willingly apply for the US Army Ranger School was not to be taken lightly.

Jason peered in through the window. “Okay, she’s there.”

Piper tiptoed to look over Jason’s shoulder. Sitting at the table, twirling her braid absentmindedly, was Calypso.

“You’re sure this will work out?” Jason’s tone was worried. “I don’t want Leo to get hurt any more.”

“Trust me,” Piper assured him. “This is gonna work. I can feel it.”

“And…what do you feel about this?” Jason hesitantly reached out to grasp her hand. A quick sting of static electricity leapt onto her palm, and Piper yelped softly.

“Sorry!” Jason hastily ripped his hand back. “I don’t know why that happens.”

“Woo,” Piper whistled. “I can feel the electricity all right.”

She was only half joking, of course. Throughout the morning, where they’d met for brunch, they’d gotten along great, Piper chatting along and Jason sitting there listening, actually listening, because he was interested in her life.

“Okay, you get Leo ready,” Piper cleared her throat. “Make sure he’s properly presentable, Jason. I’ll keep her looking the other way.”

Jason nodded, his sharp eyes picking out a taxi pulling up to the curb. “Got it. He’s here. Go in, I’ve got this.”

Piper ducked into the restaurant, which was her dad’s favourite place whenever he was in town, tipping the hostess who definitely had the hots for her dad a wink.

Calypso looked up at Piper with suspicion in her eyes. “That is not formal, Piper.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Piper looked down at her tattered greatcoat and sweater in surprise. “I don’t know what you mean, Calypso. It’s formal enough for me.”

Calypso scoffed. “You demanded I dress up when it’s still cold out, Piper. You don’t get to be perfectly comfortable and warm while I freeze in the Uber here.”

“Oh, you look wonderful,” Piper waved a hand, watching out the corner of her eye as Jason ushered Leo in a suit through the back door.

“Stunning, even.”

Calypso wore a lovely, sleek light grey dress which covered up her shoulders and included long sleeves, and she was a vision without even trying, elegant in posture and motion in a way that turned even the most covered up of dresses into eye-catching loveliness.

“I’m afraid that something’s come up, however,” Piper sighed.

“I knew it!” Calypso hissed. “I knew it, Piper. You’re up to something. Well, after the Firelight Festival, I’m not getting caught up in your schemes again.”

“No, no,” Piper tried to reassure Calypso, “I just…something’s come up with Jason.”

Calypso frowned. “He seemed like a nice boy. Very stable. Good fit for you.”

Piper brushed off the barbed comment with ease. “Mmm, indeed. And while I’m off pursuing stability, you need a little chaos.”

“You are a lot of chaos, Piper, don’t underestimate yourself,” Calypso sighed, sipping from her wine glass.

“Don’t worry, I’m still paying,” Piper smiled. “But no, not my brand of chaos.”

Leo was now practically being pushed by Jason towards Calypso, his arms and legs stiff and locked together. His fingers were fiddling with several…were those matchsticks?

“Anyway, he’s here.” Piper smoothly walked towards Calypso’s left, arms wide as if ready to hug someone. Calypso’s eyes followed her, allowing Jason to force Leo past Calypso on her right, and into the chair. Piper went a half circle around Calypso’s back, and hooked her arm into Jason’s.

“Bye now!” Piper waved her fingers less frantically now as she clung to Jason’s side like a princess, Jason’s calm presence settling down her natural energy.

“Hi,” Piper heard Leo say, “Um, hi. I’m Leo. I promise I don’t normally always show up to dates with matches. Well, I do, but um…”

“Don’t look now,” Jason whispered into Piper’s ear, “But I think Leo’s about to accidentally set something on fire again.”

--

Hazel was starting to understand why Asian dramas were all the rage right now. It was unfettered emotion and dramatics that rivalled her mother’s favourite Spanish soap operas, all awkward cliches, needle drops, impossibly well-timed pouring rain and slow-motion car accidents.

She loved it.

Frank’s eyes kept darting towards her, his cheeks flushed just slightly in embarrassment. When he’d asked Hazel if she wanted to watch a couple documentaries with him in the apartment, he probably wasn’t expecting Hazel to start scrolling through his Netflix history.

But, well, Hazel was curious. Piper was always saying that the best way to get to know someone was to see what kind of entertainment they enjoyed, and it looked like Frank specialized in two areas.

Historical documentaries and dramas, and what looked like the fluffiest Asian romcoms in the entire world.

She’d cajoled Frank into telling her which ones were his favourites, and gleefully got about to watching them, curled up into Frank’s chest.

Frank leaned forwards to pull out a battered DVD case with a pink spine from below a stack of books.

“This one’s…” Frank cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, this one’s my favourite. My uh, my grandmother always liked to keep up with movies from back home. She gave me the DVD as a…kind of goodbye present, I guess.”

“What’s it about?” Hazel said, as Frank leaned forwards to insert the DVD into his PC. They’d done their best to keep things cozy; all the individual bedrooms were very small anyway (college students needed as little rent as possible, of course) and Frank’s desk was within reach from his bed as a result.

Frank had shifted his keyboard to the side and moved the monitor and speakers as close to the bed as possible. Hazel sat cross-legged leaning against the wall, half-covered in one of Frank’s blankets which she had commandeered.

“It’s about um…a girl who’s kind of like the awkward normal student, kind of telling her interactions throughout high school with a lot of characters, you know, the weird best friends, the popular jock, the popular girls, and the school bully.”

Frank shrugged. “It’s um…not really that special. But I like it.”

“Hey,” Hazel said quietly, resting a hand on Frank’s shoulder. For such a big person, he was so shy and insecure at times. It was good. He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t, and he didn’t really care too much about the fast-paced social media life which Hazel disliked.

Growing up with a mother who kept up the 1940s voodoo stylings of her fortune-telling day job in the home had left her wholly unsuited for modern life, leaving her the quiet outcast at school, until Piper and Annabeth had helped her adapt.

Even so, she still preferred some of the quiet, sometimes, the retro movies and cartoons, just because of who she was.

And she kind of felt that Frank did, too.

“I’ve enjoyed everything we’ve watched so far,” Hazel said, “and if this is your favourite, then I bet this is gonna knock my socks off.”

Frank’s face brightened. “You know what? You’re right. I think you really will enjoy it.”

He fumbled around until he found a box of tissues, propping it beside him. 

The movie started up, and Hazel narrowed her eyes to begin reading the subtitles, which was the only drawback to these movies.

She rested her head a little on Frank’s shoulder for support, but her eyes were locked on the movie. It was the perfect combination of fluffy school life and angsty school drama, and as the movie went on, she could feel Frank relax behind her.

Whenever she laughed at a gag, or took in a breath at an action, she could feel Frank’s approving eyes on her, and once she turned to keep his eyes with a smile.

Frank smiled back, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that was of pride and fondness, and Hazel took in another sharp breath. Frank’s eyes darted back to the movie.

Hazel hastily returned her attention to the screen as well. The female lead was playing with a puppy on a rooftop, while the school bully shook his head in exasperation and watched on with a familiar fond glance.

Awwwww. This was so sweet. Hazel loved this kind of movie. She hoped that it wouldn’t get sad towards the end. Most movies did.

--

Annabeth worked away with single-minded determination with the planing tools. The submission was in another two days, and she was going to be early, thank you very much. The 3D printer wasn’t exactly at the standards she wanted it to be, but it would be very soon.

Just a little bit more on the curve here…

“I think it’s good,” came an amused voice, and Annabeth snapped her head up and out of her concentration fugue state.

“Unfortunately you’re not grading this class,” Annabeth rolled her eyes, “and Prof Arachne is a massive bitch. She loves the Greek stuff, but do it just a little off and your grade goes down.”

Rachel Elizabeth Dare shrugged. “Well…any more and you’ll compromise the flow into the next edge.”

Annabeth scowled down at the piece of printed plastic in her hands, running a practised eye across it. 

Rachel was right, Annabeth decided with a twist of her lips. Painters tended to have a good sense of spatial aestheticity, and Rachel, as much as Annabeth disliked to admit it, was one of the best artists in Olympus. 

So good, in fact, that she was the first student in years to transfer in during her second year. 

Olympus had an incredibly strict selection process, among the world’s most rigorous, in fact, and part of that was a policy of not accepting transfers. 

The first dean of the school, a Greco-American named Delphi, had declared that if a student had not gotten into Olympus from the first year, then they were unworthy of joining at any other time. 

The Delphi council (made in his name after his death) was the only hope for students hoping for a transfer, and they had not admitted a transfer student in years. 

Somehow, Rachel Dare was special enough to be admitted. 

Why? Annabeth really couldn’t say. She was a brilliant artist, yes, but nothing that would bring massive recognition to the school.

Maybe the Delphi council just loved her work. 

The school dean, Chiron, certainly did. 

“It’s looking really good, Annabeth,” Rachel praised, flicking her messy red hair out of her face. 

“The way you let the lines taper off here, towards the rear of the building is…really elegant.”

Annabeth let her lips twitch in a smile. “Thanks, Rachel. It’s…it’s coming along well. Designing it was a bitch, though.”

“Oh, I’ve heard,” Rachel hummed. “All that knocking, huh?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth let out a breath. “The owner still hasn’t shown his face around yet, or I’d have gutted him like a fish long ago.”

Rachel’s face took on a strange expression, then. “So, um, you…you met Percy?”

“Percy?” Annabeth frowned. “I…don’t think so?”

Rachel’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “No? Percy Jackson? Swimmer? Black-haired, tall?”

There was an undertone of wistful longing that, for whatever reason, had Annabeth’s fingers tightening on the plastic piece in her hand as she realised who exactly Rachel was talking about. 

Jackson. Percy Jackson. 

She had absolutely no doubt what that tone of voice had meant. Piper and Silena’s sleepovers meant a very thorough education on interpreting relationships through the way someone pronounced someone else’s name.

It had been such an intriguing premise that Annabeth had helped Silena write a paper on the topic to be distributed to fellow confused young women.

“Oh,” Annabeth said shortly. “Yes, I have met him. Sorry, I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.”

Rachel’s eyes widened, and a blush stole onto her cheeks, causing Annabeth’s heart to pound harder and for a bitter taste to enter her mouth.

“What? No, no!”

Annabeth sniffed. “Dare, I’m sure someone’s forwarded you Silena’s paper on interpreting vocal tones. I co-wrote that paper.”

Rachel ran her hands through her hair, the blush glowing on her cheeks. “I…well, yes, that was a really good paper actually, but that’s beside the point!”

All the eight points had been fulfilled.

1) Wistful tone

2) Slight look up at where said person’s face would be in proportion to the speaker

3) Automatic little smile

4) Smallest hint of a repressed laugh in the voice

5) Slight slowing of speech as though to savour the name just a little

6) Accidentally mentioning extra details about the person

7) No hint of bitterness

8) Tiny breath out after speaking his name

 Ding, ding, ding, Annabeth thought sarcastically. Rachel liked Jackson, sorry, Percy Jackson, and he must’ve liked her back, because Rachel had just fulfilled the “dating” criteria. 

And Percy had decided to just not tell her that he had a girlfriend.

The plastic piece in her hand let out a snap. 

And he’d even flirted with Annabeth! Maybe Percy was just a scumbag. 

Annabeth frowned just a little. Silena had edited that bit to include “Unicorn Incidents” under this criteria, which was that near-impossible scenario of a totally mutual and amicable breakup where both still held feelings towards the other. 

“Well, we did date for a bit in high school,” Rachel admitted, her cheeks now nearly as red as her hair, “And for a bit we honestly might’ve been actually in love, but um…that’s…that’s over now.”

“Oh,” Annabeth muttered. “I…see.”

Rachel buried her face in her hands. “Um…yeah, sorry, I had a massive crush on him for years and I honestly don’t know if I’m really over him, but…yes. We broke up after graduation. I was going to Spain for art school, and he’d got into Olympus, and well, I didn’t want to hold him back.”

Annabeth’s fingers loosened. “Oh. Um. Sorry.”

Rachel hesitantly reached out a hand to pat Annabeth’s shoulder. “It’s fine. He’s single, by the way. We talked, and he and I decided to remain friends. Um, in case you needed to know.”

“Why would I need to know?” Annabeth snapped, stalking over to the 3D printer to queue up another print of the piece that she’d just broken clean in two in her palm. 

Annabeth could hear the smile in Rachel’s voice as the girl spoke behind her. 

“Well…because I think you like him. And because I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

“How do you figure?” Annabeth snorted, tossing the broken pieces of plastic into the trash and crossing her arms. 

Rachel smiled, a wry one that touched the eyes. “Well, he texted me this morning out of nothing, asking what to do if he messed something up with a girl?”

Annabeth’s heart was pounding way too fast. She made an internal note to drink less caffeine in the mornings. 

“Mmm,” Annabeth hummed noncommittally, “Okay…”

Rachel sighed. “Percy is the nicest boy around. He really doesn’t mean to do any harm. I told him…I told him that he just needs to compose his thoughts, apologise, and then ask this girl out for real.”

“This girl.” Annabeth strained to keep her voice neutral, “Well, let’s say maybe this girl just…doesn’t know what to do now, because she…isn’t sure about whether relationships are for her.”

“Well,” Rachel’s voice was soft, “I’d remind this girl that not every boy is the same. That there are genuinely good people in this world. And that for all his idiotic ways and words, Percy will respect any and every word you say to him.”

"He will do anything for someone who has earned his trust. Anything at all. Even if it kills him." Rachel's voice was distant now. 

Annabeth swallowed, blinking away the crooked grin of Luke Castellan from her eyes. 

She still wasn’t sure if this was the best course, to listen to her pounding heart. After Luke, she’d thought that she’d just stay true to science, to the clean, unyielding lines of architecture. 

But those hazy memories. Percy’s open voice, cracking as he talked about his father. 

The hesitation in him, the care with which his hands had touched her. 

“I can help you paint that, if you want,” Rachel said softly. “After you reshape the curve, of course.”

Annabeth turned back to the machine, blinking furiously. She pulled out the piece from the machine, turning it in her hands. 

“The curve’s fine,” Annabeth said after a short pause. “...Thanks, Rachel. I’d…I’d appreciate the help.”

--

“I’m so sorry,” Leo said, for what felt like the three hundredth time that day. First it was to Percy after accidentally getting grease in the coffee pot in the morning, then it was to the taxi driver who he’d led down five wrong turns, then it was to Jason after stepping on his fingers when Jason had helped him do up the laces on his new fancy shoes. 

The next two hundred and ninety seven had been, alternately, to Calypso, and to the staff and general manager of the Cornucopia, New York’s third-finest mid-range fancy restaurant. 

“Seriously, I’m sorry,” Leo repeated, as he expertly aimed the nozzle of the fire extinguisher in controlled sweeps at the base of the roaring fire that had been their table. 

“Um, I think you need to get your insurance guys on that sprinkler system,” Leo added, as he lifted an eyebrow at the silent nozzles on the ceiling. “Also, get someone around the back to shut those doors. We need to contain the fire and starve it of oxygen.”

A frightened, soot-stained waiter nodded, and darted out of the front door, his silhouette crossing the windows until he was around the back and slamming the door shut.

“Not to worry,” Leo said conversationally, running his mouth at a thousand miles an hour as though it would help take someone’s mind off a fire. 

“This is a Class A fire, and there’s not that much smoke. Should be contained as soon as we can get the hose up and running.”

Calypso sighed, and grabbed onto the fire extinguisher, her hands cool as they ghosted past his. “Go help the staff with the hose, I’ll keep up the extinguisher.”

Leo gaped for a couple seconds. “I…I think I love you.”

“Shut up and get this fire out!” Calypso snapped, but Leo could see the blush in her cheeks. 

Leo handed over the fire extinguisher, and without missing a beat, Calypso was squeezing the trigger and aiming the nozzle at the fire. 

He raced out of the door to where the staff were struggling to attach the hose to the fire hydrant on the sidewalk. 

“Hey guys! ‘Scuse me!” Leo elbowed his way through, his hand darting into his pockets to find his mini-wrench and Swiss army knife, which he always carried, when possible. 

It took him about twenty seconds to properly hook up the hose and pressurise it, watching in relief as the limp red rubber swelled up and became solid. 

“Three guys, follow me! You’ll put your backs behind me and feed me the hose!” Leo yelled as he picked up the head of the hose and made for the restaurant. 

“Come on! If my hot date gets any hotter, this restaurant is really gonna go up in flames!”

Leo marched back inside, a mad grin on his face, to see Calypso stepping towards him, tossing the empty fire extinguisher away with a casual one-handed throw that was doing things to the temperature under Leo’s collar. 

“I’m not,” she growled, “Your hot date.”

“Sure you’re not,” Leo winked, “See you soon, Hot Date.”

The waiter directly behind Leo scoffed in admiration. “You’ve got a real keeper in this one, brother.”

“Oh, I agree,” Leo said. “Now, guy behind me, get ready for the hose force. Also, I’ll need you to bend down slightly; we’re gonna blast the ceiling too. No flashovers today, guys. Ready? Alright, one, two, three…”

--

Percy had been swimming for just about three continuous hours when his phone began to insistently ring. He winced. His muscles were burning, in that good way when they were getting a good workout, and answering that call probably meant having to end his swim. 

Which, because he was still moping about Annabeth Chase and considering how exactly he was going to explain Coach Hedge’s insane baseball metaphor to her, was not something he wanted to do just yet.

But, damn it, he hated phone calls which were just left to ring. So he surged forwards, and when his hands touched the wall, he straightened and hauled himself out of the pool.

He dried his hands on his towel and picked up his phone, cutting off Vance Joy’s voice as he picked up the call and put it on speaker.

“Yep, Percy here.”

“It’s Rachel,” came a familiar, sweet voice. 

Percy swallowed. “Oh. Hi, Rach. How’re things?”

“They’re good,” Rachel said, her voice wry. “I just had a very good talk with one Annabeth Chase.”

Percy groaned, and slumped onto the bench, bending over to stretch out his calves. 

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Rachel asked innocently.

Percy shrugged. “You always come in and deliver some mysterious revelatory statement that eventually comes true. And today? I don’t know if I want to hear it.”

“This isn’t about me, Perce,” Rachel admonished, “This is about Annabeth, and you know it.”

“Fine,” Percy sighed. “Go on, say it.”

Rachel let out an exasperated breath. “Twice a father abandons his children. Foolish is the one who abandons the maiden. What brings two together will bring them apart, it will reveal and elevate the truths in their hearts.”

“How long did you work on that one?” Percy said, a smile in his voice. “I remember when your little prophecies were done in haiku form.”

“Very funny,” Rachel deadpanned. “Someone’s already talked to you about it, huh?”

Percy shook his head in amazement. Sometimes he wondered whether Rachel was just unusually perceptive, or if she could actually peer past the veils of past and future. 

“Yeah, actually. Coach Hedge. He gave me a very specific baseball metaphor. But you know, I think it’s…gonna work. I have to talk to her. I have to.”

Rachel’s wistful voice stole down the phone in a static hiss. “Yes, Percy. You have to. And I’m going to tell you something, Percy, right now. This is important.”

“How important?” Percy said, forcing a smile. 

Rachel laughed. “Very. She’s entering the apartment complex now. If you run, you might catch her at the lift lobby.”

Percy exploded off the bench, not even taking the time to pick up his phone, leaving Rachel’s laughter hanging in the air behind him, some ghost of the past turned oracle of his future.

--

“I wasn’t sure if that bit sounded good,” Piper was saying anxiously, twisting her wrists uncertainly, those long fingers twitching with nervousness. 

Jason blinked. “Um, Piper…that sounded amazing!”

And that smile was back, the shy one, the one that made Jason really want to lean forwards and ask her the question that had been sort of lingering in the back for some time. 

“Thanks,” Piper sighed, that smile gone, replaced by the nerves again, “But um, I just…it just sounds like there’s something missing. ”

“No,” Jason said instantly, “no, I think it sounds…perfect.”

It was half a song, one that Piper had hesitantly asked his opinion about, and it had been about breathless love, as they tended to be.

After ditching Leo and Calypso, they’d ended up sat on Piper’s floor, her guitar in her lap and Jason’s ears tingling with the music.

“You’re just nice, Jason,” Piper smiled, her gaze faraway and oddly sad. “No, I don’t…can’t finish this song.”

Jason frowned. Piper was an amazing musician, that much he knew. He wasn’t totally aware of all the specifics that went into it, but the song was a hook in his chest.

Or maybe it was Piper’s voice.

Or maybe it was Piper herself. 

Ah, Jason thought belatedly. So that’s it. That went a little way towards explaining Piper’s strange attitude towards his words. 

It took time, and he was willing to give her that time.

Jason hummed the song under his breath. It really was a lovely melody, wasn’t it?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Piper stiffen. 

“Is something—” Jason began, but Piper placed a finger on his lips.

Her eyes shone like jewels under the muted lights of her room. She began to hum, and somehow Jason understood, humming along, marvelling at the way their voices melded, at the rich, easy tone of Piper’s voice. 

And suddenly Jason was realising that they were sweeping past the point at which Piper had earlier halted with a stutter and a blush.

Piper broke into full voice, Jason’s voice continuing to him lightly as words began to spill from her mouth. 

“And instant ramen in the dead of the night, talking shit until we lose the lights; please, oh please won’t we stay right here?”

Jason was starting to get the feeling that he had little choice but to start saying the words that he needed to say to her, before Piper could figure that out herself. 

“And we won’t say a single word of what we mean. But one day, oh one day, I promise it’ll be like the movies, oh and I’ll come clean, if you don’t say it before me…”

--

“No!” the gasp that shot out from Hazel’s mouth was certainly undignified, but she couldn’t care less as she shot forwards to gape open-mouthed at the screen.

“Frank, tell me that’s a dream sequence!”

As was the norm for every kind of comedy-drama soap-romance in the entire world, it was raining, and outside it, beyond the walls of Franks room, occasionally a series of loud thumps and drilling whirs threatened to intrude upon their experience.

But Leo Valdez had amped up Frank’s speakers, and that meant that even a comedy romance had the sound coverage of a documentary with fully reenacted artillery duels.

Hazel’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the poor girl fall down in the rain, watched the school bully race towards her.

Frank let out a pained grunt beside her as the girl thrust out a hand, and stood slowly on her own, tears threatening to spill from the actress’ eyes, her face crumpled so thoroughly that Hazel could feel tears pricking at her own eyes.

“No!” Hazel muttered again, as the song began to kick in, this beautifully melancholic tune of first and true loves that simply made her tear up even more, as the lead actress began to run away in the rain, eventually collapsing into a corner, weeping.

Hazel turned to see that Frank’s face, too, was a picture of pain and misery.

“That’s…that’s the saddest bit,” Frank managed. “Sometimes I need to pause and wipe away the tears.”

“Let’s do that,” Hazel laughed wetly. “Gods, that scene just…ended me.”

Frank paused the movie and handed Hazel a box of tissues.

“You knew I’d cry, didn’t you?” Hazel said accusingly.

Frank shrugged. “Well, it was partially for me, but yeah. I mean, who doesn’t? Those people don’t have a heart.”

“Gods, that song,” Hazel sighed wistfully. “I wish I knew what she was singing.”

Frank cleared her throat. “I can…I can translate by ear. If you want.”

Hazel sat up, nodding. “Yes, please.”

Frank brought out his phone and began playing the song, screwing his eyes up cutely in concentration.

“My Mandarin’s a little rusty, but here we go.”

Hazel sat there, her heart suddenly thumping hard in her chest. She knew that this was a love song, of course, and there was a little something in the air.

“Now I realise, you are the happiness I want to keep, now I realise we were so close to love, and you decided to stay with me against the world…and through the rain, it was always you, a pure love, to meet you, I’ve been so lucky…you opened my eyes…and she will be so lucky…”

The last words hit Hazel like a freight train. “It’s ‘she’, not ‘I’?”

“Yeah,” Frank exhaled. “Yeah.”

Hazel leaned back into Frank’s comforting warmth, wiping away the last of the tears and blowing her nose.

“Let’s finish this,” Hazel muttered, “I think I’m ready.”

She was, in fact, not ready, and needed a few more tissues by the time the credits finally rolled. Hazel sniffed as the song played them out through the credits.

“Frank, that was beautiful. I loved it.”

Frank’s face lit up in a smile. “Yeah, it’s a great movie, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Hazel sighed, as a thought came to her suddenly. “Frank, be honest with me.”

Frank stiffened, and Hazel could feel the muscles in his arms tense up as he sat up straight to look into her eyes.

“Yes?”

Hazel bit her lip, casting an eye towards the DVD cover, at the girl who played the lead, who was adorable in that girl-next-door way.

“You had a crush on that actress, didn’t you?”

Whatever Frank had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t that, because he started sputtering, his cheeks flushing, hands waving vaguely as he began searching for words.

“Relax!” Hazel laughed, seeing clearly in his reaction exactly what she had hoped for. “It’s okay, Frank. I think she’s really pretty too.”

Frank calmed down, mumbling something under his breath.

Hazel felt exactly like that girl in the movie again—in the happier scenes, that is—as her breath caught in her throat again.

“What did you say?” Hazel’s heart was in her throat. She was really hoping that she hadn’t read the signs wrong. Annabeth and Silena’s book had been really helpful on that point.

Frank took a deep breath, and raised his head. His eyes were certain and confident. When he spoke, his voice was steady and low.

“Well, I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Hazel could swear she was melting into the bed, the blush flaring in her cheeks. Frank hesitantly reached out his hand to grasp hers.

“Um, Hazel,” he began, “would you mind if…well…if we…”

Hazel fumbled for Frank’s phone, and set that song playing again.

She smiled up at him as the tinny speakers began to blare out that melody.

“Yes,” Hazel said, and she meant it with everything she had.

--

“Is your luck always this bad?” Calypso asked sarcastically as they exited the Uber at the lobby of the apartment building, scowling at Leo through damp hair that was framing her face perfectly.

Leo shrugged, his lips curving into a smile. “Only every other day.”

To Leo’s surprise, Calypso actually laughed at that, the first time that day that he’d made her laugh.

It was a melodic thing, as one might expect from Olympus U’s best pianist that the music program had seen since Lester Papadopolous.

It was also adorable, the way her nose screwed up just a little, that elegant shake of her head, and Leo was mesmerized.

Leo waved to Terminus, the security guard, before they headed to the lift lobby.

“Today has been a strange day,” Calypso muttered, her eyes wistful. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone on such a disaster of a lunch before. You set the place on fire, and just as the fire goes out, the hose nozzle breaks and splatters everyone with water.”

Leo slung an arm around Calypso’s shoulders. “All in a day’s work, Hot Date.”

Calypso rolled her eyes. “That is not catching on, Valdez.”

“Oh, I’m a master of making anything catch on,” Leo winked.

“Catching on fire, more like,” Calypso shook her head, the smile breaking through onto her face.

“Hey!” Leo held up a hand, grinning. “You made a joke!”

“A good joke,” Calypso clarified, but she hi-fived Leo anyway, Leo practically vibrating with excitement.

He was so involved with the job of silencing his internal energy that it took him a couple seconds to realise that the elevator had not moved, even though he’d just punched the button.

“I think it’s stuck,” Calypso said, furrowing her brows.

Leo shrugged. “Could just be a connection issue. I could whip off the button cover and check the wiring.”

Calypso sighed, but it was that exasperated one that Leo could swear was bordering on fondness.

“Just call your landlord, will you?”

Leo shrugged again. “Diony is a bit of a lazy asshat, so I doubt he’d touch anything unless there were people trapped inside it.”

“Of course this happens here,” Calypso muttered. “Well, I’m not walking ten floors. So call your landlord, or I’m going home.”

Leo flapped his arms in the air. “Really? You’d abandon the brilliant mustiness of the Camp Apartments for Ogygia Towers, literal paradise on Earth? How could you?”

Calypso suppressed another smile, but Leo saw it.

“Well, all right. At least until someone saves whoever’s in that lift.”

Leo frowned. “Wait…how do you know there’s someone in there?”

As though the universe conspired against Leo—to be fair to him, the NSA already did—it was at that exact moment that the panic alarm rang in the elevator.

--

Exactly thirty minutes earlier, Annabeth Chase had been walking into the elevator, her head spinning with the revelation that Rachel Dare was not just a weirdo, but a weirdo with oddly specific and accurate advice.

She punched the close button on autopilot, and so got a nicely timed horror-movie style jumpscare as a hand came from nowhere and grabbed ahold of the closing door.

Annabeth didn’t scare easy, but that was because of the knife, mostly. She wore it during horror movies, and had been banned from Halloween Horror Nights for “threatening the employees”.

Well, if they didn’t want a knife at their throats, they shouldn’t have been leaping up in stupid makeup from behind cheap sets.

So, for the second time in as many days, Annabeth found herself sticking her knife in the face of a cute boy. This time, it wasn’t Jason Grace, however, but rather the very last person she needed to see while her thoughts were still in a mess.

“This elevator full?” Percy Jackson asked.

Annabeth withdrew the knife slowly, concentrating as hard as she could to keep her hands steady. Keep it together, she told herself. Keep it together. This is fine. It’s just Jackson. Percy. Whatever.

“It can take one more,” Annabeth said, Percy’s gaze hopeful and soft in a way that made Annabeth feel like blushing again. What was happening to her?

“Awesome,” Percy said bashfully, entering the elevator in just his swimming trunks, tapping the tenth floor button. The doors closed, and Annabeth could feel the warmth radiating off of Percy’s skin as his foot tapped anxiously against the floor.

His bare feet.

He wasn’t saying anything. Flashes of hazy memories, of the touch of his skin, of his voice rumbling through her chest. Of bared hearts and close distances.

Annabeth broke the awkward silence before it could get too stifling.

“Um…no slippers?”

Percy looked suitably perturbed, until he looked down at his feet, and his mouth dropped open. “Oh. Yeah. Um…yeah. I guess I um…left it by the pool.”

Annabeth arched an eyebrow. “You just…forgot your slippers? What, did you forget your phone too?”

Percy blinked. “Oh, shit.”

She resisted the urge to facepalm, and studiously avoided noticing how adorable he was with that blindsided expression.

Percy reached over to tap the level one button, sighing. “Well…wasted elevator ride.”

And just at that moment, as the elevator made it in between levels 8 and 9, it just stopped with an abrupt jolt, causing Annabeth to stumble, her hands landing on Percy’s bare shoulder, before instinctively jerking back as though it burned.

“Sorry!” Annabeth blurted.

“It’s fine,” Percy’s voice was slightly higher than normal, as he began jabbing at the buttons. “Um…what’s happening?”

Annabeth swept her eyes up at the LED panel above their heads, which proudly displayed a fuzzy number eight. Percy was now jabbing the door open and close buttons with increased vigour.

“Stop button mashing,” Annabeth laid a gentle hand on Percy’s arm and steered him clear of the panel, her analytical mind snapping into gear and doing what it did best; pushing her emotions aside for the moment so that she could think properly.

“We’re clearly stuck. This elevator is old as Hades, and clearly something in its stupid system has shorted out. Our best bet is to press the alarm button, like so.” Annabeth pushed the alarm button authoritatively, long and hard, and the alarm bell rang, loud and annoying.

Annabeth lasted ten seconds before withdrawing her hand in distaste of the sound.

It reminded her too much of the buzzing whir of the drills and hammers which had been the bane of her existence for the past week. She snuck another glance at Percy, feeling her heart pound faster and faster.

The drills, without which she might never have run into Percy Jackson.

“—it, my phone!” Percy was groaning. “Could I borrow your phone to call Tyson after we contact an elevator mechanic? He’s going to be wondering where I am, and I needed to—” Percy suddenly stiffened and clammed up.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. “Sure. That’s fine.”

Something was a little off, but between her torn heartstrings and Percy’s distracting abs, Annabeth put it aside as she pulled her phone out of her pocket to dial the emergency number stencilled on the inside of the elevator.

Annabeth got a quick five second look at the time (17:34) and her phone background (the Parthenon, duh) before she noticed the red rectangle in the top right-hand corner. And just like that, Annabeth’s phone died.

“No!” Annabeth hissed, tapping at the screen, pressing at the power button.

“No, no, no!”

Percy peered over Annabeth’s shoulder, his warmth distracting, his breath on her hair.

“That doesn’t look good.”

“No, it doesn’t, Seaweed Brain!” Annabeth snapped. “In case you’ve forgotten, I still have a final to finish up!”

Percy’s eyes widened, and he took two big steps backward, until he was up against the wall of the opposite side of the elevator.

“Sorry, Annabeth,” Percy mumbled, eyes downcast. “I…have I been a hindrance? I…I know that I…came into all of this at a bit of a weird time, and…Gods, this is hard to say…but if you really dislike me, like really, really don’t want me to come around, ever, tell me now. I…I won’t ever bother you again.”

Annabeth swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The last time he’d sounded that sadly earnest, genuine without the trappings of bravado, humour, and fondness, was when he’d spoken about his father, last night.

Before Annabeth had moved closer and ruined everything.

Because she still wasn’t sure. Luke Castellan’s image still hovered, his words, those barbed promises, catching on her heart.

She’d gone ahead and made Percy want to break the rhythm, to want to ask her that question, and now she’d have to say no, tell him that she couldn’t bear to have to think about what could be. Percy had given her the easy out; to just say it now, and not have to see him again.

But if Frederick Chase had done anything right, it was to teach his talented, unstable, runaway daughter that those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it.

And part of her mind was noting now that Luke Castellan had never done this before, never cracked the façade of invulnerability, never offered her a way out.

There was silence for a long time. Annabeth couldn’t bear to look at Percy.

Rachel’s voice in her head. “Percy will respect every word you say. He will do anything for someone who has earned his trust. Anything at all. Even if it kills him.”

That made up her mind.

“Percy, I…” Annabeth let out a breath. “No.”

Percy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No…to what?”

“I want you to come around and bother me, you idiot,” Annabeth found herself saying, crossing her arms, looking down at her feet, feeling the blush intensify.

“Because you’re a good guy. Cute in a scruffy way. Total idiot, in a funny way. And…I don’t know, I feel comfortable with you. So comfortable that…I’m just waiting for the catch.”

Percy swallowed. “There is no catch. I don’t want you for the sex. Although you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but…your mind. And you’re right. I feel that…comfort too. I just…I can be truly myself around you. All the stupid things I do and say around you…it’s because you’re you. And um…I, I know I was a little forward last night. But I don’t want to go too fast. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

Annabeth blinked. Her heart was twisting in her chest, whirling as she mentally compared Luke and Percy.

Luke had made her feel good about her anger. That together, they were against the entire world, that he would protect her from anything, and that the occasional outburst of rage was fine. The way he lashed out with his words.

The way he only wanted to talk about their pain. As though it confirmed to him how broken everything was, and justified his behaviour.

With Percy, everything was just as real, it pulled her in just as tight, but it was something that was warm, soft with her but with the hard lines that would shield them both, instead of the cold, double-edged barbed wire that her relationship with Luke had been.

Maybe she was an idiot.

Because she believed every single word that Percy Jackson was saying.

“I…” Annabeth’s voice cracked at the sight of the tears welling up in Percy’s eyes.

“It’s fine if you have to think,” Percy smiled at her. “I…yesterday was complicated. I shouldn’t have brought out the wine. Or trauma dumped about my dad.”

“Do you remember what you said to me?” Annabeth asked, her voice trembling, her vision blurring Percy’s form into oblique shapes, blonde and blue leaching into her vision.

“After…after all of it?”

Percy’s voice was quiet, and every word was clear. “Of course I do.”

Annabeth slowly leans away from Percy. His eyes flutter open, his mouth is wide open.

“Close that before you start to drool again,” Annabeth says fondly.

Percy snaps his mouth shut so hard he jerks his head back. “Ow!”

“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth mumbles. Percy’s arms draw her close, her head tucking perfectly into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

“My Wise Girl,” he says wistfully. “Gods, my father…I still wish sometimes, that he was alive. Even though if he was, I bet nothing would be different. I’d still be a struggling student. My mom would still be running three jobs.”

“And I wish that Luke Castellan hadn’t made me unable to trust any boy ever again,” Annabeth sighs, “But sometimes I wonder if that’s just me projecting. What if it’s not Luke? What if it’s me?”

A hand cups her chin, and Annabeth is staring up into Percy’s eyes again. All around her, all she can sense is him.

“All our ghosts will always be with us,” Percy says, “I know you feel them too. They know all our habits…but they don’t know about us. They won’t. We’re…we’re anglerfish in the deep sea. Lights everywhere. We don’t know whether one is a mate…or food…or a predator…”

Annabeth snorts. “Are you really talking about fish? Now?”

“…but now I see your light. And I think that I’m going to stay here with you. Forever. Because we can’t change our ghosts, but they don’t matter. What matters, in the dark ocean, is light. And the living.” Percy looks almost proud of his fish analogy, and a bleary Annabeth loves him for it.

He’s not holding anything back.

Annabeth tucks her head into his chest again. She can, as Percy says, feel the ghosts of Luke Castellan somewhere around her.

She doesn’t really care, but the twist in her chest says otherwise.

“They don’t know about us,” Percy said, on the other side of that elevator. “I believe that. You…you can let those ghosts go.”

Annabeth wiped furiously at the tears streaking down her cheek, and she looked up at Percy.

Percy understood immediately, and in two seconds, he wrapped her in his arms as Annabeth cried, feeling the hooks and the scars of Luke Castellan loosen.

“If this is too much, tell me,” Percy’s voice was muffled in Annabeth’s hair. “It’s…just a habit, I guess. I like to…hug.”

Annabeth tightened her grip on Percy in response. After this, they could take it slow. But there was no denying what this was.

“I don’t mind,” Annabeth muttered, “I…I hate all of my habits too.”

“Oh?” Percy hummed into Annabeth’s hair. Somewhere above them, some mechanical whirring began to sound.

“I hate all of my habits, but I…I happen to love you,” Annabeth whispered, the sound of it clear in the elevator, even as the sound of tools and voices began to grow.

“I…I hope that’s true.”

Percy reached down, and tilted her head to his.

“It’s true,” Percy said, and Annabeth simply couldn’t resist anymore, looping her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes, and kissing Percy.

It was even better sober than drunk. Because it felt real.

Screw that, Annabeth thought absentmindedly. Because it was real.

--

Calypso Atlas was well aware that her father liked to skimp on funding the servicing branch of his wildly popular elevator construction and installation firm (Atlas Inc: We Hold The Sky For You), but she was unaware that he’d started subcontracting.

So it came as a surprise but not a shock when Dionysus’ call to the Atlas Inc New York service hotline redirected them to Hephaestus Apostolous’ Vulcan Servicing. The big man, who had apparently given Leo his first job (made sense, honestly), had stopped by, grunting, and with Leo popping around to provide his take, the elevator scenario had been solved within ten minutes.

"Atlas' curse," Hephaestus grumbled. "Shitty elevators."

She watched Leo clamber out of the open elevator shaft, his dress shirt striped with grease and dirt, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Give that to me later,” Calypso said, the words escaping before she could stop herself. “You’ll never get those damned stains loose on your own, Valdez.”

“Never tried,” Leo gave her that smirk of his, the one that made Calypso alternate between wanting to punch him or kiss him.

Calypso’s jaw twitched. That thought…no. Not at all. Piper McLean might like to think of herself as some magic matchmaker, but this was not happening. Leo was younger than her, impish, perpetually unserious, childish, a fire hazard, handy with tools, whipcrack smart, and if he showered more he would look a decent catch.

Calypso squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. No, no, no!

“Thank you, though,” Leo said, hesitantly. “I’ll pay.”

“Nothing would be enough,” Calypso sniffed. “But…you can pay for dinner next time.”

“Next time?” Leo’s eyes gleamed.

Calypso stuck out a hand to ward him back. “Only if you shower right after this.”

He shot her a salute as the elevator returned to the ground floor. The doors opened, and Calypso swallowed. It was him. The lifeguard who had saved her on the beach last year in summer. Percy Jackson. With his arm around a pretty blond girl who had her head resting against him.

It had stung her quite a lot last year to learn about the lifeguard’s girlfriend, the redhead, but for whatever reason, she didn’t feel that anymore. Her heart didn’t do that skip-beat it had done whenever she’d wandered past his class.

The blond shook her head and jabbed a finger at a piece of paper on the noticeboard beside the lift.

“This guy,” the blond said, her tone distasteful. “Posts a note to let us know about approved renovations, then doesn’t show his face for weeks. I haven’t seen him before, but I’d like to clock his lights out for all that goddamned knocking.”

Calypso could see Leo’s face contort in horror for a brief second, before he resumed his regular smirk and grin. That was concerning.

Calypso took a step closer to read the name that the blonde’s finger was pointing at.

Oh. That wasn’t good. Calypso knew what it meant, because early on during her slightly stalker-ish phase, she had found out his legal name. But she didn’t. There was no joking tone to her voice, and the blonde had the tanned skin and muscular frame to back up her threat.

She had her arms draped loosely around her boyfriend’s waist, their bodies practically glued together.

The future was not bright for this man, the true tenant of the apartment under renovation.

He didn’t go by the name anymore, for good reason, but that meant that a reckoning might be coming. Calypso could sense the foreboding in the air.

The name on the paper was Perseus Ugliano, legal stepson of Gabe Ugliano and Sally Jackson.

He preferred to shorten his first name, and use his mother’s last name. The application to legally change his last name was still in progress.

Calypso caught the slight brush of fear on the face of the man holding the blonde like a precious doll, the face of Percy Jackson.

Chapter Text

Plan Daedalus Twenty-Four: Phases 0-6

Phase 0 began in the early morning on Saturday, at an hour when no college student worth their debt would be awake.

“Annabeth!” Piper hammered on her door, in a frantic three-two-seven combination.

This was part of the three stage knocking pattern that Annabeth had forced everyone in the house to memorise and use as accurately as possible, on pain of death. 

It was quite a comprehensive list, ranging from toilet paper issue (one-one-eight) to nuclear radiation (three-two-six).

Three-two-seven meant Emergency (Drew Tanaka), and Annabeth buried her head in her hands, groaning. They hadn’t had a three-two-seven in months. 

Hazel’s voice drifted from down the hall. “Why’s she back again?”

Annabeth gritted her teeth. Drew Tanaka emergencies were almost inevitably the worst possible type of emergency that Piper could ever get involved in, and there had been a lot of Tanaka Emergencies during freshman year. 

“Please!” Piper called, her voice beginning to move towards dramatic again. “She’s really gone and done it this time!”

“What did she do?” Annabeth grunted, as she removed one cup of the noise-cancelling earphones, allowing the piercing whir of the drilling from upstairs to return to her consciousness. 

It had been a decently productive morning, too. With Rachel Dare’s help, the architectural model had been completed, and now what remained was to organise her blueprints and the write-ups on her rationale and the overall basis of her design. 

Honestly? It was kind of done. After that ahem, talk with Percy Jackson in the lift, Annabeth had found herself flooded with a strange lightness and easy motivation that had driven her into a near euphoric state of work that lasted until two in the morning. 

She was just correcting the spelling errors that had spilled into her writing as the night had gone on and on. 

“Please, Annabeth,” Piper was pleading, “If you have the time, we need you! I need you! You know that your planning has been one of the keys behind our successful anti-Tanaka campaigns.”

Sighing, Annabeth tugged off the headphones, wincing at the sound of the drills, which had added some quick banging just for Annabeth’s ears, it seemed. 

“Fine. But we’re not discussing this here. I can’t think straight with that noise.”

Piper’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, oh! I know where we can go!”

“No,” Annabeth said firmly. “I refuse. You will not embarrass me, you vixen.”

Piper simply smiled that wickedly pretty grin of hers, and she lifted her phone to dial a number. Annabeth could feel her stomach sinking as Piper began to speak. 

“Yeah, morning, Percy. Oh, nothing, nothing. Just…Annabeth would love to come up and have a nice lie-down in the Sea of Foam right now—”

Piper squawked as Annabeth pounced on her, but the tricksy woman hung up before Annabeth could say a word.

“You’re going to regret that,” Annabeth growled, fingers waving. 

Piper shrugged. “It’s for a good cause. The anti-Tanaka cause.”

Annabeth dug her fingers into Piper’s midriff, determined to enjoy the panicked squeals for as long as possible. 

--

“Okay, run that by me again?” Leo was saying, spinning his drumsticks as fast as he could in the air. 

“Drew Tanaka formed a superstar band and used her influence to kick you out of your regular performance slot, hoping to blacklist you from performing, and you want us to help you get your slot back and humiliate Tanaka as publicly as possible?”

Piper nodded earnestly, and Jason shot Frank a resigned smile. 

Frank blinked as the sentence sunk in, and looked down to his left, where Hazel was sitting beside him, backs to the wall of the Sea of Foam. 

Hazel gave Frank a similarly resigned shrug. 

“Just go along with it,” she muttered, “That’s normally how it works. Don’t worry, Annabeth will figure out a plan. That’s what she’s best at.”

Annabeth chose that moment to direct those scary stormcloud eyes straight at Frank. 

“You. Hazel’s new friend.”

Frank cleared his throat. “My name’s Frank.”

Annabeth waved a hand dismissively. “Any hidden talents? I need to know everyone’s limitations and strengths before I plan. I know Percy here is a swimmer with seaweed for brains, Leo is a drummer slash arsonist who can hack the FBI—”

“It was the NSA and the CIA,” Leo interjected. “Much cooler than the FBI.”

Annabeth’s gaze shifted, and Frank found himself very impressed by the way she killed Leo’s mouth with a single raised eyebrow.

Now that was a useful skill. Most people couldn’t shut up Leo Valdez even with five rolls of duct tape. 

“Anyway,” Annabeth continued, “as I was saying before I was interrupted, Jason is a reformed jock with great knowledge of dead languages and weather systems, Hazel is a valuation expert and resident pool hustler, Piper is a reformed sex goddess and musician, and you, Frank?”

Frank swallowed. “Erm, I…know every stat in Mythomagic?”

Percy brightened. “Dude, I should introduce you to my pal Nico!”

Annabeth turned that scary scowl on Percy, who, instead of buckling like a badly constructed levee against a hurricane, maintained his smile until Annabeth’s cheeks began to redden. 

“Anything else?” Annabeth shook her head, “Anything useful?”

“He can do impressions,” Hazel put in. “Yesterday he was perfectly impersonating every character in every show we watched. Plus he quoted half a documentary for me yesterday, and he sounded like every guest historian they had!”

Frank chuckled. “Hazel, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I can’t just…transform into anybody’s voice. I’m limited to historical figures and various animals.”

Annabeth tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Okay. Impersonate Leo. Just say, ‘I’m the greatest inventor in New York’, the way Leo would say it.”

Frank cleared his throat nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Percy was giving him a discreet thumbs up, but his heart was beating faster than it had since…well, since yesterday, with Hazel. 

Hazel leaned into him, her warmth relieving the nerves just like that.

“Trust me,” she whispered, looking at him with those warm chocolate eyes. “It’s good.”

Frank cleared his throat again. “Okay. Okay.”

“Hi! I’m Leo Valdez, the greatest inventor in New York! Festus, hit it.”

Festus’ table had been shifted to the centre of the room, and his eyes lit up, his jaw unhinging as a sudden burst of flame issued from the bronze figurehead’s mouth.

“Whoa, whoa, Festus, stop!” Leo yelped, leaping straight for the fire extinguishers in the corner, dropping into a tuck and roll that landed him facing the opposite direction of the fire. 

Awkwardly, Leo spun, and with a quick up-down sweep, extinguished the fire building on the charred panel directly opposite Festus. 

“Good thing I told Tyson to spare no expense on the fire-resistant materials,” Leo said breathlessly. 

Then Leo frowned, turning to look at Frank. 

“Frank, that was…amazing!” Hazel gushed. 

Leo blinked. “That was more than amazing, it was…perfect. I’m the only one that can give fire control commands to Festus, and his system uses the best voice recognition software I could borrow.”

“Borrowed from where?” Jason asked.

Leo waved a hand. “Oh, MI6. But that’s not important. What’s important is that Frank…why did none of us know about this before?”

Frank shrugged, blushing. “It’s just…silly. I used to practise making animal sounds, and at some point…I realised I could do human voices as well.”

“It’s great,” Hazel said, tugging Frank closer. “I think it’s a perfect talent.”

“And a useful one,” Annabeth mused. “How much data and how long does it take for you to imitate someone, or something?”

Frank shrugged. “Not too long. A good three minute conversation, maybe?”

Annabeth’s eyes were gleaming. Percy’s expression was nothing short of proud as he looked down at the blonde girl.

“You have a plan!” Piper fist-pumped.

“I have a plan,” Annabeth agreed. “This will require us…forming another band, however. But I’ll need Frank to be out of the lineup.”

Leo made a face. “But Frank’s our guitarist!”

Piper chewed her lip. “I’ve just got word that Tanaka’s managed to blacklist me. No one’s willing to intervene for me in the music faculty. Damn her blackmail inbox.”

Reluctantly, Jason put up a hand. “I know someone. She’ll be up for it. Plus she’s got some extra skills that’ll be handy.”

“Who?” Annabeth asked.

Jason sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

--

Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano was busy beating the living hell out of the punching bag that was hanging in Clarisse’s room when the knocking came at her door. 

It took her a couple seconds to realise that it was a different sound from the rhythmic punching as she swayed and struck at the bag. 

Panting, she delivered one last punch-kick combination before landing lightly on the balls of her feet. Clarisse wasn’t expecting any of her MMA friends around today, was she? 

Snagging a water bottle from the table, she made her way to the door, where she became immediately aware of that certain kind of whispering that accompanies large groups of people attempting to be low-key.

“...maybe she’s not in?” a female voice was saying. 

“Just try it again,” sighed a familiar tone. That sounded like the Chase girl across the hall. 

“Look, I’m just saying, I could take the lock apart,” a gleeful voice replied. 

Reyna scowled, putting the bottle down in favour of one of the many batons Clarisse hung on the coatrack. 

It sounded a bit like Jason’s hyper friend.

“Guys, shut up,” came Jason Grace’s voice. “Don’t be weird, okay?”

She swallowed. Damn it. Jason Grace. Things were…complicated between them, to say the least. 

“Reyna? It’s Jason. Could you open the door?”

But she couldn’t find it in her to refuse him, after all they’d been through. It had been crushing to her ego to find out that Jason regarded her as nothing more than a close friend, but he was still her closest friend. 

Swallowing hard, Reyna opened the door abruptly, and raised an eyebrow at the sight which greeted her. 

Jason was standing on her doorstep, his face in his palm, as Leo Valdez, whose head had been pressed up against the door, fell flat on his face. Ringing the threshold was one, two, three, four, five others, for a total of seven people on the doorstep. 

That was significantly more than the doorstep was built for, and much more than any number of guests Reyna had ever asked over. 

“Hi,” Jason said, his face brightening into a lovely smile which had Reyna’s heart lurching in her chest. “Sorry about Leo. He’s just functioning as usual.”

“I figured,” Reyna replied, keeping her voice steady as she scanned the crew gathered around the door. “Jason, why are there seven people on my doorstep?”

Jason screwed his face into the familiar it’s-complicated expression that he used for many of Leo’s stupid plans. 

“Hi, Reyna!” Hazel was waving brightly at her, and Reyna waved back, unable to resist the girl’s positive vibes. “How’s your pool?”

“Just a little worse than when we last met,” Reyna smiled ruefully. Hazel was an absolute monster at the pool table, and they’d become good friends at the Pool Society, until Reyna had agreed to help Clarisse train for her next match, and had to skip most of the pool sessions. 

“Pool?” asked the tall boy with dark hair. He was actually cute in a himbo-ish fashion, broad shoulders, messy black hair, and gorgeous sea-green eyes. “Like a swimming pool?”

The blonde from across the hall who Reyna always saw at the gym, Annabeth, she thought the name was, sighed and smacked the boy in the chest. 

“They’re talking about the game, Seaweed Brain. Sorry about Percy back here,” Annabeth rolled her eyes dramatically, “Good to be properly introduced. Annabeth. Piper and Hazel room with me across the hall.”

Piper McLean, whose reputation preceded her by a country mile, gave Reyna a bright smile, and Reyna’s eyes dropped to her hand, where her fingers were intertwined with Jason’s. 

Her heart clenched. 

“Hi, um, I’m Frank,” said Frank, blinking nervously at her. “I, er, I’m actually in your History seminar.”

“Yes,” Reyna gave Frank an assured nod. “I remember you, Frank. You’re one of the few people giving actual insights in that class.”

Frank blushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Reyna frowned. “Okay, we’re all introduced. Jason, what’s this about? I highly doubt that you brought an entire gang of people just for a social call on an old friend.”

Jason’s eyes flashed with embarrassment. “Yeah, you’re right, as usual. Um, so, basically, Reyna, I know you’d prefer to keep things low key, but we kind of really need your help.”

She narrowed her eyes, her mind automatically skimming through the possibilities. “Who’s the problem?”

“Drew Tanaka,” Piper put in, screwing up her face in disgust. “Ugh. I hate even saying her name.”

“Clarisse would be better for a back alley ambush,” Reyna said plainly. “She already has several balaclavas and various masks. I wouldn’t mind, but it seems a little bit of overkill.”

Leo stepped back, hands in the air. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“What is it with homicidal women on this floor?” Percy asked, before Annabeth placed her elbow into his sternum with a minimum of force to shut him up.

“We don’t need to beat her physically,” Annabeth said, “We plan on beating her at her own game. Catty, vicious rumourmongering, and with the best damn music the world has ever seen.”

A lingering suspicion was building in the back of Reyna’s mind.

“You told them?” Reyna snapped at Jason, who raised his hands in submission. “You want me to do this?”

“I can’t think of anyone better than you,” Jason’s voice was genuine, his tone that blindly trusting one that had led her to join him in proving that the Mount Othrys debate competition had been rigged back in high school. 

It was a whole thing, and if her understanding was right, it had been linked to a racketeering conspiracy by the company Titan through a former student at a nearby school. 

Something Castellan or other. 

There had been a related incident in New York around the same time, too, Reyna remembered reading. And if she recalled correctly (she was never wrong), then the kid who helped expose the New York branch was named Jackson. 

Very interesting company Jason kept these days. 

“Who else is playing?” Reyna said reluctantly. Jason’s eyes brightened, and he extended his arm for her to clasp, forearm to forearm, their matching tattoos brushing against each other.

“Thank you so much, Reyna!” Jason gestured around him. “Leo here is on drums. We’ve roped in Calypso Atlas to do keys, and Percy knows a bass player. Piper is the best singer in the world, and she can rock a double bass too, if needed. I’ll be there too, backup vocals.”

Reyna kept her face entirely impassive at the way Piper’s face had lit up with the praise, the way they comfortably leaned into each other. 

That was good for Jason. Really, good for him. He’d always been so aloof and uptight, and now he seemed much more relaxed. 

Besides, Drew Tanaka. Ugh. 

“Who, or rather, what,” Reyna asked, “are we up against?”

Annabeth sighed. “Well, that’s just it. Tanaka beat us to the punch in organising a stacked team and leveraging her influence to move the entire Music faculty away from Piper.”

Reyna crossed her arms. “What are we dealing with?”

Annabeth waved a hand in the air. “Not yet. I’m only partially done with my slides. And besides, I want to save it for when everyone’s here.”

“The more you talk, the more this sounds like a heist film,” Hazel piped up. “That sounds fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be more than fun,” Piper said gleefully. “It’ll be devastating. For Drew Tanaka, that is.”

Reyna sighed. Well, if anything else, Jason had always told her that her guitar playing was the best he’d ever heard. Considering he listened mostly to Italian composers, she supposed it was as good a compliment as she would get. 

And for all those stories about Piper McLean, they all agreed that she was the best musician since…well, Calypso Atlas. 

“So, are you in?” Annabeth asked. “Just confirming.”

Well, Reyna thought, shredding the guitar would be marginally more productive than blearily beating Clarisse’s punching bag until her knuckles re-bruised. 

It felt like a cheap thriller, but even Reyna, the most dignified of women, the one whose bearing rivalled ministers of state, couldn’t resist the cliche. 

“I’m in,” Reyna said. 

--

“Okay,” Annabeth cleared her throat. “Everyone, thank you for coming. So, today’s slideshow will brief you all on our opponents, ourselves, and the task at hand.”

Percy gave her an encouraging thumbs up, mouthing “Ocean’s Eleven time” as clearly as he could. 

The idiot, Annabeth thought, but her lips quirked up into a smile, and some of the tension drained from her shoulders. Annabeth surveyed the room. It was quite the attendance list. 

Apart from the seven, Reyna was sitting there, back ramrod straight, while Percy’s friend Nico slouched down into his oversized Metallica sweatshirt, Calypso made a point of not looking at Leo, and Percy’s other friend Grover sat there munching away on an enchilada. 

Coach Hedge, standing at the very back of the room, gave a piercing whistle. “Shut up, cupcakes! Let the woman have your attention!”

Annabeth gave the man a grateful nod, and gestured to Hazel to begin the slideshow.

“Okay. Welcome, everyone, to Plan Daedalus Twenty-Four. Our objective is simple; we are to expose Drew Tanaka’s underhand methods for unfairly stealing Piper’s stage time, tear apart her and her band mentally and emotionally, and win the upcoming Battle of the Bands against Tanaka herself.”

The next slide was a screenshot from Drew Tanaka’s Instagram.

“As you can see,” Annabeth continued, “Our task is not going to be easy. Tanaka’s group, the ‘Tanakettes’, is highly skilled at various bitch-related activities.”

Percy tossed her his metal pen slash extendable pointer, the one he called “Riptide” like it was an American Excalibur. 

“Drew Tanaka. Music major. Skilled in the art of blackmail and negotiation. Truly a master at it. She can convince a rat to leave a subway station.”

“Circe Aeaea. A Olympus U Music graduate. Runs the third-biggest luxury spa in New York City. Lots of money, lots of resources. Has a side-gig in purebred guinea pigs.”

“Khione Snow. Music major. Also known as the Ice Queen. Has the mental and physical will to be unaffected by any physical discomfort. Wears bikinis during winter just to make everyone else look.”

“Medea Colchis. Olympus U graduate, double major in music and chemistry. Her dad owns Macy’s, so even more money. Her chemistry expertise makes her dangerous. Known for under-the-table aphrodisiacs.”

“Ethan Nakamura. Expelled when the entire Titan scheme collapsed around his ears three years ago. An odd-job man. Lost his eye in a bad bet. Treat him with caution.”

“Bryce Lawrence. Likely serial killer. Our third-biggest threat, because of his physical presence and creep factor.”

“Nancy Bobofit. Metal drummer. Slightly unstable, but probably the weakest link in the group.”

“And the man I consider our greatest threat, Octavian Augur. Political Science major. Possibly the most conniving man to ever exist. His uncanny ability to flee unscathed from controversies means he is the most likely to figure us out.”

Leo raised his hand. “So, how are we going to beat them?”

Annabeth tapped the pointer into her palm decisively. 

“Each of you will have received an email from me containing your instructions. Follow these to the best of your ability, and inform me of any changes. We have to maintain compartmentalization if we’re going to outsmart them.”

Annabeth felt a slight tinge of worry. She had, as usual, created an elaborate set of plans based on some simple principles.

But one couldn’t plan for everything, although she liked to think she could. 

Percy seemed to practically read her mind, and he laid a comforting hand on her ankle from his position at her feet.

“Trust in the plan, guys,” Percy said, achieving with that carefree smile and stupid thumbs-up what Annabeth had been trying to convince herself of all day, all within a single moment. 

“We’re going to take down Drew Tanaka, and it is going to be awesome.” Percy stood up, waving his arms energetically. “I mean, guys, we all have reason to dislike this group of unhinged and toxic people.”

Percy pointed at himself, “When I was thirteen, Nancy Bobofit punched me in the face and dunked me into a fountain. Khione trapped Leo in a freezer for two hours a couple years ago, although that was also kind of Leo’s fault.”

“Hey!” Leo shot back, “She couldn’t handle the flamin’ hot brilliance of—ow!”

Calypso shook her head, withdrawing her hand from the back of Leo’s head quickly. “Circe is a total snake. Tried to hypnotise any boy who fancied me, and set rats upon anyone who disliked her.”

“Bryce Lawrence is just straight-up racist,” Hazel volunteered. “Plus he has an unhealthy obsession with knives.”

“That’s the spirit!” Percy high-fived Hazel. “Alright, guys. Check your emails. Tonight, we are bringing down Drew Tanaka once and for all!”

Annabeth let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Things were going to work out. Her plans always did. Couldn’t fail.

Could it?

--

Phase One of Annabeth’s master plan began in the back alley behind C.C.’s Spa and Resort, just one of a series of beachfront tourist traps lining Brighton Beach. Nico di Angelo finished his cigarette as Reyna Arellano grinded her teeth in frustration. 

“The sooner you go in,” Nico said, his voice bored, “The faster this’ll get over with. I’m sure Annabeth planned in some waiting time, but we’re about to reach a limit.”

Reyna shot Nico a deadly glare, but his leather jacket seemed to absorb it like a black hole absorbing light, Nico hiding behind his shoulder-length black hair. 

“Why are you even here?” Reyna snapped, “You’re certainly not much help at the moment.”

Nico shrugged, leaning back to pat the handles of the jet-black motorcycle with which they’d raced out of Manhattan. 

“Well, if I’m to guess, it might be because of Shadow. Shadow-travel sure as Hades beats taking the Greyhound.”

Reyna shook her head, muttering as she pulled out the thin fabric from the bag that Annabeth had issued her. 

“Turn around,” Reyna barked. “I’m changing.”

Nico shrugged again, turning sullenly. “I don’t care.”

As Reyna pulled off her sweatshirt, the cold air sent an involuntary shiver through her body.

“What do you mean, you don’t care?” Reyna kept her voice low, her mind having already raced to the likeliest conclusion, as she slipped out of her trousers and trading her shoes for a pair of slippers. 

Nico had certainly been telling the truth, that much Reyna could tell. 

“Are you done?” Nico sounded resigned. “Come on, you’ve got to get going. At this rate, we’ll never get back to Manhattan in time.”

Reyna sighed. “I’m ready. And you can tell me, if you want. I don’t betray people’s trust. Ever.”

Nico turned around, and his eyes were pools of sadness. “Maybe later. Go on.”

Reyna let out another breath. “Okay. Fine. I’ll see you out front.”

Nico nodded, then hesitated, turning back to gesture towards Reyna. 

“Um, your hair. Let it down. You’ll fit the bill better then.”

Reyna’s hand automatically went to the tight braid which she always wore, and she nodded, working her fingers quickly to loosen her dark brown hair, sending it sweeping over her shoulders in one smooth action. 

Then she turned the corner, repressing the shiver that ran through her as the wind cut through the thin cotton top that had been tied at her ribs, exposing her midriff, and the cutoff shorts. 

It pained her to do it, but she put on the sunglasses Annabeth had snatched from Percy’s room. 

Reyna told herself to trust the process. 

That this was worth it, to stop Drew Tanaka from ruining Piper’s life and grades and to stop her from reclaiming her grasp on the school at large. 

No shame, Reyna curled her hands into wrists. No shame. This is a part of the operation. A vital part. 

Besides, the last time she’d gotten so involved in something like this had been the whole Titan/Mount Othyrs thing. 

And that had turned out to be a highlight of her life. 

Reyna stuck her chin high in the air as she entered C.C.’s Resort and Spa, the automatic doors opening to release a wash of warm, humid air that immediately chased away the cold. 

“Well, hello, beautiful,” came a sultry drawl. Reyna made sure to curl her lips into that wicked grin that she normally reserved for telling blows in debate club. 

“Hello yourself,” Reyna said, her voice low, as Circe Aeaea came from around the counter towards her.

--

Phase Two of Annabeth’s plan was occurring at the same time, back over in Manhattan, at Macy’s Herald Square, the flagship department store of the retail giant, where Hazel was biting her nails as she adjusted her grip on her phone.

“I don’t know, Annabeth,” Hazel muttered, “I’m still not sure that this is the right thing to do.”

“What’s there to think about?” Annabeth said, her voice slightly distracted, “Hazel, need I remind you about the Firelight Festival?”

“Yes, but this is like...criminal!” Hazel whispered that last bit. 

“We’re covered,” Annabeth replied confidently. “I asked Zia. You know, the Law exchange student? It’s good. Only Leo could get arrested, and honestly, we’d be doing him a favour if that stops him from hacking into government agencies.”

Hazel sighed. “I just would prefer it if we didn’t use our powers for…bad!”

“Think of it as necessary evil,” Annabeth offered, “You know, it’s part of life, Hazel. We’ve got to destroy some things in order to build it up. And besides, I get the feeling that you won’t exactly be lying.”

Hazel wandered over to the display cases of diamonds, and her eyes caught in the glitter of the jewels, roving keenly between the various pieces on display. A woman with a face that looked completely composed of makeup glided across towards her.

“Hello there, young lady. See anything you like?”

“You got this,” Annabeth promised. “Just say it like it is. Leo will handle the rest.”

Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’ll call you back, Annabeth.”

She hung up, and then gave the saleswoman a bright smile. “So, how much for those?”

Hazel pointed at a tiara composed of diamonds and other gemstones, glittering shards of amethyst and sapphire woven into the thin metal frame. She had chosen her time well, surrounded by at least eight other women contemplating their jewellery options.

The saleswoman gave a bright smile and named the price. 

“Well, we’re currently selling this piece for eighty-seven thousand six hundred dollars.”

Hazel frowned. Okay, so Annabeth was right. “Really? That seems…excessive.”

The saleswoman’s jaw dropped, and she drew herself up to full height. “I’m sorry, madam, but here at Macy’s we have always prided ourselves on providing the best quality goods, and that comes with price tags that justify themselves. Look at this piece, madam. Artisanal perfection!”

“Well,” Hazel peered closer, “Most of those diamonds look like SI3 or I1 diamonds, I’m counting about seven pieces of 2 carats each, which at current market rates adds up to about 56 thousand dollars. That bit of wiring is painted and wrought aluminium, probably about eight dollars from an artisanal firm, though I’d bet it was a standard piece mass-produced for about 22 cents per piece.”

The crowd around Hazel was increasing, and the murmurs of the many women were getting rather low and vicious, as the saleswoman frantically began stabbing at the manager call button concealed under the desk. 

“And those other jewels, well, this amethyst looks AAA grade, so ten two carat pieces equals another thousand dollars, but the sapphires are quality two only. Another eight one carat pieces of sapphire equal eight thousand, and I’ll even include artisanal pricing for the assembly, which is done quite well, so let’s add another couple thousand dollars.”

Hazel paused to take in the sudden silence in the store, as a crowd of women and men surrounded her with bated breath.

“Go on then,” urged an ageing Asian woman. “What’s the verdict?”

“Plus this is Macy’s,” Hazel carried on, “Name recognition, plus a nice box, another couple thousand dollars. That brings us to, rounded up, about 70 thousand dollars for the cost of the individual components, artisanal composition, and name recognition. And even if we added another ten percent just after the fact, this piece is still overpriced by ten thousand dollars!”

The saleswoman gave up her button pressing and simply disappeared under the desk, a prescient move, as it would soon turn out. 

Because seconds later, a harried looking man with a manager’s badge hustled out onto the floor, flanked by a sneering Medea Colchis. 

“What is the problem here?” Medea snapped, her voice a whipcrack of superiority which even on normal occasions would tend to cause some level of irritation. 

In this case, it was a match thrown onto a dry haystack recently doused with gasoline. Leo would’ve been proud, if he weren’t running past Hazel towards the stairs of the management office as fast as he could through a cloud of arms, perfume, and luxury items.

Hazel was already bolting for the door when the riot started to get going in earnest. And okay, Hazel supposed that it had been a great plan.

Didn’t mean she had to like it though.  

--

Phase Three was also happening at that very moment, just two blocks down, at the door of Octavian Augur’s penthouse apartment, and Piper was already regretting agreeing to this part of the plan. 

But Drew Tanaka! 

Piper sort of needed those performance credits to make up for the occasional class she’d not shown up for and therefore failed. 

If this was going to save her degree and take out Drew Tanaka yet again, then it was worth it. 

Piper leaned forwards and knocked pertly on Octavian’s door. 

There was the sound of slow footsteps, then a shuffle that Piper assumed, correctly, was Octavian checking the security camera pointed in Piper’s face, then a sudden rustle of movement. 

Ten seconds later, Octavian opened the door, his thin face arranged into what he probably thought was an attractive smirk, but which was actually more along the lines of a sleazy fur merchant. 

“Why hello there, beautiful,” he drawled, his eyes gleaming excitedly as he made no secret of his wandering gaze, looking Piper up and down. “Piper McLean, am I right?”

Piper let out a gasp, carefully calibrated between airhead and Oscar-winner. “How’d you know?”

“I’m Octavian,” he said, “And I know everything. I know you’re here because of some…problems. Romantic problems, am I right?”

Piper took a half step backwards, eyes wide. “What the hell?”

“Jason Grace is quite the letdown, isn’t he?” Octavian sighed, eyeing Piper craftily. “You’re not the first to be burned, my dear. Please. Come on in. I shall read your fortunes and grant you advice from the stars.”

“How…much?” Piper squeaked out.

Octavian waved a hand lazily. “No charge today, my sweet. Well, perhaps just that you stay with me for lunch. I would love to treat you right, the way you haven’t been by the past week.”

Piper, only slightly comforted by the weight of the knife Annabeth had given to her last Christmas strapped to her back, stepped forwards, and Octavian closed the door behind her. 

--

Phase Four was taking place in the downtown bar on Fifth, where Jason and Percy, dressed in their most worn and battered clothes, stepped down into the basement, lit by flickering incandescent lightbulbs. 

“There they are,” Percy muttered. “Shame that I know the fellow, too.”

“Wish I didn’t know mine either,” Jason grunted. 

At the bar, already on their third beers, were Bryce Lawrence and Ethan Nakamura. 

The racket the two were making was already clear, their scornful laughter echoing across the walls as Jason wrinkled his nose at the strong scent of alcohol and sweat emanating from the bar. 

“...and I told her,” Lawrence was saying, “Girl, if you don’t like it, then I’ll pull out my knife instead!”

Nakamura spat out a mouthful of beer onto the countertop, and Jason caught the grimace of the man behind the bar as he side-eyed the unsavoury pair. 

Still, Jason kept his mind on the plan. Annabeth’s finely machined series of phases meant that this was necessary to disable the threats of this pair. 

“Bryce!” Jason clapped a hand onto Lawrence’s shoulder. “Been a damn long time since Jupiter High. Glad to see you haven’t changed.”

Lawrence raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “My, my. Jason Grace. The big little hero. What the hell are you doing in a place like this?”

“He’s with me,” Percy stepped forwards, a sneer fixed on his face. “Don’t get up, Nakamura, you’ll wet yourself.”

Nakamura, half out of his seat with his fingers wrapped around his glass, froze, glaring balefully at Percy.

Lawrence eyed Percy, impressed. “Who the hell are you?”

Percy shrugged, his wide shoulders straining against the purposely fitting leather jacket. “Jackson. Percy Jackson. You might’ve heard of me. The Princess Andromeda ?”

Nakamura snarled. “That’s it, Jackson!”

Percy’s arm shot out, slamming into Nakamura’s shoulder where it met his neck and sending Nakamura landing back in his seat with a thump.

“Now, now, Ethan,” Lawrence admonished with a wagging finger, a wicked grin on his lips. “This one seems interesting.”

“Bryce Lawrence, huh?” Percy kept his hand firmly on Nakamura’s shoulder as Jason struggled to remain unaffected. 

Percy had always been the goofball with shitty jokes and puns. And now he was slamming one-eyed men into their seats and staring down Bryce Lawrence?

Talk about hidden depths. 

“Bet Little Jace here’s told you a lot about me,” Lawrence casually drew a dagger from his jacket, spinning it without a second glance. 

“Told me enough,” Percy shrugged. “You were the big man down on the West Coast. We’re a little far from Saint Francis now, Lawrence. Hope New York’s not too cold for you.”

Lawrence bared his teeth as he laughed. “Oh, I have no intention of staying long in this ratty ruin of a city.”

“Then why are you here?” Jason interjected, crossing his arms. “Don’t tell me it’s for that snake Octavian.”

From the way Lawrence’s hand instantly tightened on the hilt of his dagger, Jason knew that he’d hit the mark.

“You watch your words, Little Jace,” Lawrence narrowed his eyes. “No Lupa to protect you here.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Percy waved over the bartender. “What the hell are you doing in New York City, Bryce Lawrence?”

Percy snatched up Nakamura’s glass and let the bartender fill it, taking a casual swig. 

“For that matter, Nakamura, I’m surprised you dared show your face again.” 

Lawrence let out a brittle laugh. “Oh, you’re a bold one indeed, Percy Jackson. If you must know, we’re security. Insurance for a friend of ours.”

“I wasn’t aware you had friends, Nakamura,” Percy sneered. “Must be a girl there, huh? Who, Nancy Bobofit? Drew Tanaka?”

Nakamura leapt out of his seat with blinding speed, roaring in rage. 

Percy was even faster, stepping into Nakamura’s blindside with casual grace and sticking out a foot to trip Nakamura, sending him sprawling inelegantly to the ground.

“Tanaka, huh?” Percy shot Jason a significant look. “Well, well, Ethan. At least you have standards.”

“Control yourself, Ethan!” Lawrence hissed. His eyes were narrowed with suspicion. 

“We have a job to do tonight. Break your nose after that.”

Percy casually slipped into Nakamura’s seat. “Leaving so soon, Lawrence?”

“Yeah,” Jason pulled up a barstool on the opposite side of Lawrence. “Not scared of ‘Little Jace’ are you?”

Lawrence snorted, his fingers relaxing. 

“Not goddamn likely, Grace.”

Percy snapped his fingers at the bartender. “Okay then! Another round for the three of us!...Alright, make that four.”

Nakamura stumbled to his feet, his eye burning his undisguised hatred. 

“Sit down, Ethan,” Lawrence shook his head, downing another long slug of beer. “Take it like a man.”

Jason watched Nakamura and Lawrence tilt their heads to drink, and breathed out an internal sigh of relief. 

Okay. Phase 4 proceeding as planned.

--

Annabeth smoothed down the skirt of her most official formal attire as she stepped into the Altue Cafe, Frank following close behind her. 

As far as she could tell from the coded messages flooding her Telegram chats, everything was proceeding relatively smoothly. 

So she couldn’t mess this up now. Phase Five was essential, truly essential. 

“Excuse me,” Annabeth pitched her voice just as Piper had taught her, up a couple semitones and with a snooty, condescending tone. 

“I believe I have an appointment with the manager?”

From the suppressed grimace on the face of the waiter, Annabeth knew that she’d nailed it. 

“Ma’am, please give me a second to check,” the waiter said hastily, ushering Annabeth to a chair near the door to the staircase that led to the staff offices. “We’ll be right with you.”

Frank laid a comforting hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. He gave her a thumbs up with the other hand. 

Annabeth smiled at Frank and nodded. 

There was the sound of frantic footsteps and hushed whispering, and then the door to the staircase opened hurriedly, and the waiter reappeared. 

He gave Annabeth his best customer service smile. 

“Right this way, Ms Chase. Apologies for the confusion. Please follow me. Mr Miller’s in his office.”

Annabeth sniffed in distaste. “Well? Lead the way!”

The waiter mumbled out an apology as he ushered Annabeth and Frank up the stairs and into a lush waiting area, all red carpet, plush couches, and thick wooden office doors. 

A brass plate affixed to the door read MILLER in silver cursive. Annabeth entered without knocking. 

Mr Miller was sitting at his desk, this small man with brown hair and the squinty, hard-edged blue eyes of an industry expert. 

He gave Annabeth a thin lipped smile. 

“Ms Chase. This is…unexpected, I suppose. I had thought that you would be older.”

“I should give my beautician a raise,” Annabeth replied calmly. “She’s certainly earned her due if that’s your observation.”

Miller shrugged, and gestured to the chair in front of the desk. 

“Please sit. I’m afraid I was unaware that you were bringing an assistant.”

Annabeth sat primly with a dismissive wave. 

“Frank doesn’t mind standing. I don’t pay him to complain.”

“A statement I can get behind,” Miller grunted. “So, what’s your deal, Ms Chase? The Altue doesn’t run by money, you know. We run on talent, on the book, by the book. We’re not letting any D-lister with a paycheck in through the door on short notice. You want in, you go through the same process as everyone else.”

“And yet here I am,” Annabeth shrugged, “asking for an alteration of your schedule tonight. What I find instructive, Mr Miller, is that you let me through the door. I would wonder why, but you and I both know.”

Miller leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Ah, well, well. Straight to the point. Fair enough, Ms Chase. You are sitting in this office because Tristan Hunter has given a glowing recommendation and requested that your act be given a chance tonight. My question is, why should I let you disrupt my schedule? On the word of an email from a celebrity who has never, as far as I know, given anything to the indie music scene in New York City?”

Annabeth shook her head. “Well, first of all, I am well aware that scheduling has never been too big of an issue. After all, I have it on good authority that you had a generous grant from the Macy’s foundation to allow one of their heiresses to perform tonight.”

Miller bristled. “Now, hang on there, Ms Chase. Throwing around unsubstantiated arguments is a good way to ruin your chances.”

“What I’m proposing,” Annabeth continued smoothly, “is that you look at your lineup for tonight. Jam-packed with solo acts, but for the one band. And you’ve seen the impact of bands.”

“Your band is a fresh act,” Miller pointed out. “I’m not about to put two fresh-eyed acts back to back.”

Annabeth smiled, teeth showing. “No, Mr Miller, you misunderstand my proposal. I want you to put the two of them together.”

Now that got Miller’s full attention. 

“I’ve got a contract,” Miller said reluctantly. “Their manager insisted.”

Annabeth waved a hand dismissively. “Let Frank see it. He’ll get on the phone with my lawyers. In the meantime, let’s head downstairs. Let me explain just exactly how things are going to work out…for you and for me.”

Miller pulled out a thin folder and tossed it to Frank. 

“I’m impressed, Ms Chase. Very impressed. Lead the way.”

Frank was already paging through the folder, shooting Annabeth a confident look. 

Annabeth let a touch of a smirk enter her expression as she exited the room with Miller behind her. 

--

Phase Six, the last of the pre-event phases, was the only one which was a solo mission, and Calypso crushed the tiny part of her brain that lamented that it wasn’t her who was paired with Leo. 

After all, it made total sense. 

She was the only one who could do this, after all, and it would’ve been weird if she’d brought along anyone else. 

The elevator ride was absurdly long, because of course it was, 90 floors up on One World Trade Centre, overlooking practically the entirety of Manhattan. 

The doors opened, and Calypso shuffled out into the corridor, rolling her eyes at the large words announcing the company name. 

ATLAS INC: WE HOLD THE SKY FOR YOU

“Nice and subtle, dad,” Calypso mumbled as she stepped through the automatic double doors and into the office headquarters. 

The receptionist’s bored eyes widened immediately, and she shot to her feet. 

“Ms Atlas! Um…ma’am, your father isn’t in right now. He’s in a meeting downtown, but I can leave him a priority message if you need anything?”

Calypso sighed. “Ugh. Just let me into the office. I’ll wait.”

The receptionist nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, of course, Ms Atlas. Go right ahead.”

There were some times when Calypso hated the way that her father ruled his offices with an iron fist, but it came in handy in times like these. 

This was the third receptionist already this month, and she was clearly well aware that her father, for all his flaws, was incredibly protective of her and her seven sisters. 

Calypso slipped into the office, a wide space with an oddly low ceiling, considering her father was nearly seven feet tall. 

His head was always brushing the ceiling of his office, and he did it on purpose. 

Dad was always lecturing about his youth, about growing up in a tiny apartment and working his way up to build his reputation as one of the premier lift constructors in the world. 

Calypso settled into her father’s chair, tapping his keyboard to turn on his PC. 

“Okay,” Calypso muttered, as she entered her father’s password. “This information better be accurate.”

It didn’t take long for Calypso to navigate through the internal system of Atlas Inc to the orders and rectifications page. 

She pulled out her phone and pulled up the email that Annabeth had sent her. 

Calypso typed in the address, added a note designating the task high priority, and logged out. 

Her palms were sweating a little. Calypso just wasn’t the rule-breaking type, and as much as those banshees deserved it, she just couldn’t help but feel a thing of regret. 

She quickly texted Annabeth. 

Phase 6 in action. 

There was a brief pause.

Copy. Prep for phase 7.

--

Annabeth looked up from her chat with Calypso as Miller paced the stage, thinking.

“I like that proposal, Ms Chase,” Miller tapped his fingers against the microphone stand in front of him. 

“We can do those modifications by tonight, yes. If you can guarantee their arrival?”

Annabeth snorted. “I wouldn’t have raised it if I couldn’t guarantee, Mr Miller. We’re both professionals here, aren’t we?”

Miller chewed his lip. “Alright. Let’s head back upstairs and see what your lawyers have got for me.”

As they climbed the stairs, Annabeth glanced at her notifications. So far, so good. But there was still one person who hadn’t responded yet. 

Annabeth repressed a disappointed sigh as they returned to the office. Frank was standing, leafing through the folder, with his Bluetooth earphone/microphone attached to his head.

“...yes, yes, I understand,” Frank was saying. “So you’re saying that clause fifteen is…yes, definitely. Thank you, Zia. Give Carter my thanks.”

Frank looked up at Annabeth and nodded. 

“Clause 15 explicitly references that the Tanakettes have agreed to abide by the Altue regulations, and therefore clause 28 and 32 of the regulations is incorporated by reference and binding. As you know, Mr Miller, clause 28 of the Altue regulations reserves you the right to introduce a judging panel for entertainment purposes. And clause 32 specifies that all bands accept that if clause 28 is invoked, the management will assign another band to compete with.”

Miller snorted. “That would definitely work. Okay. I’ll have to give their manager notice, of course.”

“No problem,” Annabeth gave Miller a sharp grin. “So, do we have a deal?”

Miller shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t believe I’m saying this…you better deliver, Ms Chase, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Then I’m not worried,” Annabeth put her hand out.

Miller shook it. “Alright. We have a deal.”

--

“She’s just so beautiful!” Nakamura moaned. Jason tried to suppress his grimace as the completed wasted man slumped into his shoulder.

“Yeah, man, she really is,” Jason forced himself to say. It was really good that Nakamura was sloshed, because Jason was not exactly the best liar.

Also, Nakamura was talking about Drew Tanaka. 

“Her eyes like melted chocolate,” Nakamura sighed wistfully, “And that voice…like…um, like…”

“Honey,” Jason supplied with a suppressed sigh. It was all objectively, technically true, it was just that to compliment Drew Tanaka felt wrong after two semesters of finding alternative routes to avoid her. 

“Honey!” Nakamura groaned. “But she…I don’t know if she likes me the same way.”

“Of course she does,” Percy patted Nakamura’s back. “You remember what she said to you, right?”

Nakamura sniffed. “Yes…yes, she said she was counting on me. On me!”

“Why else would she say that to you if she didn’t mean it?” Jason pointed out. “And remember her voice! Did she sound very matter-of-fact?”

“She sounded like a goddess,” Nakamura sighed, and Jason smirked internally. Drew tended to speak to anyone she needed something from with the crooning tones of a lover, and it was backfiring on her now.

“It sounded like she really needed me,” Nakamura was about to burst into tears.

Percy and Jason exchanged similar grimaces, and Percy tilted his head towards Jason’s other side. 

Well, this was his job, after all. 

“So, Bryce…” Jason started carefully. Lawrence might be right pints in already, but he was still a homicidal maniac with multiple knives. 

“Whadyawant, Grace?” Lawrence mumbled, his eyes red-rimmed. “You can puff up Nakamura all you want…makes no difference to me.”

“Um…well, I know that things never did end well, but he always did talk about you,” Jason said softly. “And I know that maybe you don’t want to talk about it but…Octavian has never had a girlfriend.”

That much was true. 

Jason watched Lawrence swallow another pint. 

“Where the hell do you get off…making accusations like that?” Lawrence growled, his eyes bulging as he shoved his face into Jason’s. 

Jason resisted the urge to flinch, clenching his jaw as the wave of alcohol drifted across him. 

“We both ended up running away from San Francisco,” Jason shrugged, “and yet, in the end, everything still followed us here. Everything we hoped, everything we dreamed…and all I’m saying is that I think we’re right to still hope.”

Jason watched, breath held shallowly, as Lawrence held his gaze for another five seconds. 

Then he sighed and slumped back into his seat. 

“Maybe you’re right, Grace. Maybe.”

Percy was hyping up Nakamura opposite him. 

“... tonight is the night,” he was saying, Nakamura nodding intently, tears running from his eye. 

“Tonight’s the night,” Jason echoed, looking at Lawrence. “Now or never.”

Lawrence drank again. “Now or never,” he croaked in return.

And Jason relaxed his back. Okay. They were ready.

--

Piper sat down daintily, preparing herself for the most persuasive character study of her life.

It had so far been going fairly smoothly, with Octavian only taking the opportunity to touch her hands and shoulders, but she knew that she had to be a little more distracting than that. 

“My dear Piper,” Octavian crooned, settling back down opposite Piper on a plush leather chair, handing her a porcelain cup. 

“Please, drink.” Piper took the drink, controlling her hands to emit just the tiniest shake. 

Octavian pounced on the chance, cupping his hands over Piper’s. 

“No need to worry,” Octavian promised, curling his lips into what he probably thought was a seductive grin. “I’m right here. And trust me, Piper, I know what you need.”

Piper let out a breathy laugh, slowly drawing her hands to her, making sure to tilt her head back to drink the cup of hot tea, feeling Octavian’s eyes paint the slender line of her neck. 

Just as well. That meant that he hadn’t noticed that Piper had turned his phone to silent mode and cleared all his on-screen notifications, including ones from Medea, Bryce Lawrence, and Drew Tanaka. 

Annabeth had warned her that the next five minutes would be key. 

Taking off her coat at the door to reveal the little black dress that Reyna of all people had picked out for her had so far been more than enough. 

But Octavian was a businessman, that was for sure. He had to be thoroughly distracted. 

And of course, there was an easy way to do that. 

“You said you could tell me more…” Piper squeaked, “about Jason?”

She watched the way Octavian’s eyes darkened when she said Jason’s name. Wow. Octavian must really, really hate Jason. 

“Ah, yes,” Octavian sighed. “The unfortunate Jason Grace. I have terrible news for you, terrible news. My sources have assured me that he is currently in three different relationships, and none of you are aware of the other.”

“That’s impossible!” Piper protested, letting some real heat enter her voice. 

“Jason would…he would never do that!”

Octavian held up a hand, lighting a candle with the other, emitting a sickly sweet scent into the room.

“Oh, wouldn’t he? He’s a man of many commitments, isn’t he? Taking a new religious studies module out of nowhere, trying out to be the Pontifex, and Latin club? How many of those is he really doing?”

Piper chewed her lip, keeping her head still when Octavian leaned forwards to stop her.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s alright. I’ll read your loveline, and everything will be clear.”

Beside him, on the table, Octavian’s phone screen lit up with a text from a contact named MILLER.

It was time for the big guns. 

“Oh,” Piper fluttered her eyes, “I’m feeling so…dizzy. Please…could you…help me…”

Piper slumped forwards, allowing Octavian’s cold fingers to curl around her waist and back as he drew her close. 

She could feel his spindly frame pressing up against hers as he mumbled some incoherent bullshit about ley lines and augur’s privileges. 

Most importantly, he didn’t see that Piper’s left hand was quickly and efficiently clearing the notification, marking it as read, as Annabeth had instructed. 

Piper ignored the growing heat coming from the general direction of Octavian’s pelvis as she breathed heavily into Octavian’s ear.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Piper stuttered. She glanced at her watch. Still a couple more hours. 

Think of the look on Tanaka’s face, Piper told herself. She fixed a dreamy expression on her face, as internally she recalled Annabeth’s other instructions. 

“Piper,” Annabeth had said that morning, “You know that drama field of yours? That suppressed zone of sexual chaos which occasionally erupts and disrupts everyone’s night within a two mile radius?”

“I do not have a drama field,” Piper hissed. “We scientifically proved it didn’t exist last year.”

Hazel sighed and put her head back. “Are we finally gonna tell her, Annabeth? Keeping it secret has been killing me.”

Piper blinked as the inference set in. “No way. No way! You guys did not Dark Knight me.”

Annabeth shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, we changed the results. Honestly I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

Piper had felt betrayed in the moment, but now, sitting opposite Octavian, it seemed like a good time to let some of the drama field out. 

Normally all that needed to happen was for Piper to act more like her mother. 

So, she loosened her hair from its braid, and in the process, “accidentally” shifted the strap of her dress, sending it down her shoulder.

The dress stayed in place, of course, and Piper had done nothing else.

Still, right on cue, the lights cut out. Moments later, the fire alarm went off.

In the darkness, Piper couldn’t help but smile. She still had it.

--

Hazel waited, fingers tapping, in the alleyway behind Macy’s. It had been about twenty minutes since the entire mob thing had broken out and the main atrium and much of the street descended into general chaos. 

She still felt bad about it, but the thought of those overpriced jewels left her sighing in disappointment. Hazel had never got into the geology business for the money, after all. 

It was all she’d had to entertain herself, the only thing her mother had been good with sharing, was her collection of baubles, some of them real, most of them plastic knockoffs. 

There had been good days with her mother, Hazel thought wistfully, but in the end, perhaps her father had been right to bring her to the di Angelos. 

Hazel checked her phone again, and seeing that the time was right, used the screwdriver to take off the ventilation panel on the side of the building. 

She had inflated the battered crash pad earlier, and positioned it right in the way. Hazel stepped primly away from the vent.

It didn’t take very long—in fact it was only about 40 seconds—for Leo Valdez to come dropping straight down the vent, popping out of the curve and landing plum on the crash pad.

“Thanks,” Leo panted, that wild gleam in his eye. Hazel wrinkled her nose at the minor dust cloud expanding from Leo’s hair. 

“Mission success?” Hazel offered her hand.

Leo clasped it and scrambled to his feet, shaking a thumb drive in his other hand. 

“Oh yeah,” he grinned. “This is gonna be fun .”

--

She was not enjoying this, Reyna reminded herself. She was not enjoying this at all. 

There was nothing at all pleasurable or indeed even satisfactory about what was happening. 

“And how are you feeling, my dear?” came the purring voice of Circe, as a finger traced lightly around Reyna’s jawline. 

“I hope this has been very…pleasurable for you.”

Reyna allowed her lips to curl ever so slightly. 

“It is…acceptable,” Reyna sniffed. “I am impressed with your level of commitment, Miss Aeaea.”

“Please,” came Circe’s voice, a whisper into Reyna’s ear, “Call me Circe.”

Reyna still could not see anything, courtesy of the cucumbers over her eyes, but she could sense Circe’s presence circling around her. 

Just as Annabeth had predicted, simply by acting as though she owned the place, Reyna had successfully convinced Circe that she was a spoiled rich girl who could be tempted into return business. 

But even so, Reyna had not been planning on enjoying this so much. After all, it was never her scene, all the primping and the luxury. 

She had been single-mindedly focused on grades and debates, and the only luxury she’d really allowed herself was to let Hylla do her hair once in a while. 

And that was what it kind of reminded her of, and the newness of it all, the ability to simply ask and have Circe’s servants scurry to her every need, was really nice. 

So, when Circe finally peeled the cucumbers off Reyna’s face, and she changed back into her clothes, Reyna did feel a twinge of regret. 

Maybe Annabeth was also into these sorts of things, Reyna thought wistfully. Clarisse was a staunch friend, but there were some things that she wouldn’t do even for friendship. 

“Oh, no,” Circe put out a hand as Reyna reached for the slender Prada wallet that Calypso had lent her. 

“First time’s on me, my dear. I so very much loved having you around.”

Reyna blinked innocently and withdrew her hand. 

“Of course, Miss…Circe. I enjoyed this very much. I’ll be back next time.”

Circe’s expression was very much that of the cat that got the cream, and Reyna gave one last wave before exiting through the front of the spa. 

The cold air whipped at her shoulders, as Reyna gave herself a quick stretch to loosen up her muscles. At the next alley, Nico do Angelo was already waiting, leaning against Shadow. He passed her a jacket, which Reyna gratefully wrapped around herself.

“All done?” Reyna asked.

Nico nodded. “No issues. Annabeth knows.”

“Good,” Reyna sighed. “Let’s head back. We’ve got a battle of the bands to dominate.”

A spark of amusement came into Nico’s eyes then. 

“Oh, I’m sure we do.”

In a single fluid motion, Nico kicked up the stand and swung himself onto the bike. Reyna followed suit, and with a low growl, Shadow shot into motion, the muffler rendering her a surprisingly silent blur of black racing down the road back into Manhattan.

--

“Wonderful,” Annabeth muttered. “All set.”

Frank looked relieved, even as the chatter and buzz of the workers continued frantically around them. 

“That’s good.”

“Maybe,” Annabeth shook her head. “Maybe not. I’ve come to realise a lot of plans only fall apart when everything is set.”

Frank blinked in confusion, then shrugged, as the last of the new stage lights was screwed into place. 

The Altue Cafe was all geared up for an open door performance, complete with an expanded stage, trapdoors, lights, fog machines, a luxurious judges table, and a burgeoning social media campaign that had seen a quite unprecedented number of signups. 

Frank shrugged. “Well, at the very least, it’s going to be glorious.”

Annabeth puffed out a breath. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

She watched the limousines and cars beginning to pull up into the nearby carpark. 

“Alright then,” Annabeth said. "We are go for Phase Seven."

to be continued...

Chapter Text

Plan Daedalus Twenty-Four: Phases 7-9 (+ Contingency Plan Beta)

“Showtime in fifteen minutes!” came the roar from Miller down the backstage corridor. 

“McLean, you better deliver!” 

Piper scowled, but only let the irritation rise for a brief second before she tamped it down, channelling it to ignore her nerves. 

“Of course I will, Mr Miller!” Piper responded, her voice sweet and sugary. “I won’t let you down, sir!”

Miller grunted in assent, and continued marching down the corridor, barking orders at hurried interns and contractors as the rest of the stage began to come together. 

“You feeling alright?” Hazel asked anxiously, as she put the final finishing touches on her makeup, a perfect skull appearing on her features, oddly juxtaposed with the concern in her eyes. 

Piper swallowed once, telling herself to breathe. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Leo made a face at Piper, sticking his tongue out. “Well, Beauty Queen, there’s the fact that your dad will be here, along with about 300 rabid fangirls.”

“There’s also the fact that we’re mixing it up,” Reyna noted. “This isn’t exactly your regular songlist, after all. I mean, why are we playing this genre again?”

Annabeth snapped the door open in that brisk, efficient fashion that she always had. She’d somehow gotten her hair straightened, and in conjunction with the pantsuit, cut quite the severe figure. 

“It’s a precaution,” Annabeth said, eyeing Reyna. “Any issues?”

Reyna shook her head. “No, I can play it. In fact, I’m probably gonna be better at this than Piper’s jazz-fusion-indie-folk thing.”

“Sweet!” Leo grinned. “Another tick in my book.”

“Are we all good here, then?” Annabeth asked, putting a finger to the earpiece plugged into her left ear. “Because we’re gonna be on in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” Nico di Angelo raised an eyebrow. “I thought Miller said fifteen?”

Annabeth shook her head, a smirk appearing on her face. “We have it under control. Ten minutes.”

“Why…” Reyna broke off, shaking her head. “Plans within plans, huh, Annabeth?”

“As per usual,” Hazel shrugged. “Anyway, hold still, Reyna, let me get this mascara right!”

“When are Jason and Percy due?” Piper asked, swallowing another sip of honey lemon tea. 

Annabeth checked her watch. “Three minutes. They’ll be bringing Bryce Lawrence and Ethan Nakamura.”

Nico scowled. “Then I’d better stay out of sight before I get too tempted to crush Nakamura’s nose.”

Reyna nodded in agreement. “Similarly about Lawrence.”

“Remember your places, everyone,” Annabeth scanned the room. “Piper, you have to make your appearance just as Octavian does. Frank will cue you.”

“And we’re certain that there’s nothing else that’s been missed?” Piper asked, her stomach still churning uncertainly. “Because, well…generally it tends to go that way.”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “Not today, Pipes. We’ve got everything ready. All on track, and on time—”

“—supposed to be here!” 

A loud screech cracked through the air, and Piper let her lip curl in distaste. Ugh. She’d heard that voice way too many times during freshman year, when Medea was always coming back to the weekly Music Society meetings. 

Piper tiptoed to the door of the dressing room, Hazel peering over her shoulder, as Annabeth exited immediately, her sensible flats clicking quietly as she headed towards the source of the sound. 

And with Medea's arrival, Phase 7 would commence.

“Wow, you really did a number on her, huh?” Piper whispered to Hazel, as the two of them watched, wide-eyed, as Medea stumbled down the hallway. 

A far cry from the elegant, flouncing woman who was certain to come in carting around shopping bags with her name engraved on them, Medea’s hair was ruffled and her shiny dress torn in two places. 

Her mascara was running, and she was sweaty and exhausted. Clearly she’d had some disagreements, perhaps with some angry customers who had seen a recently leaked series of documents showing that Medea, having been given a position in the jewellery department, had been inflating prices in order to make her department’s sales look better. 

Leo had contacts with every newspaper in the country, apparently, through his secret hacking persona which he had assured the crew was not used for immoral things. 

Most of the stuff he used it for was technically illegal, though. 

“Where is Drew?” Medea demanded, as she stumbled, exhausted, towards the dressing room opposite the Argo II’s. 

The door was wide open (a minor defect with the hinges engineered by Tyson), and inside were the only two members of the Tanakettes to arrive on time. 

Khione shrugged, smirking at Medea’s appearance. “Not here.”

Medea gritted her teeth. “Oh I know that, you showoff!”

“Nothing wrong with flaunting what you have,” Khione sneered, crossing her legs. She was dressed, as was typical of her, in nothing but a bikini, seemingly unaffected by the East Coast December weather. 

Opposite her, Nancy Bobofit slouched further down into her seat. 

“Knock it off, you two,” she grumbled. “This is meant to be our big break. Tanaka will get here; she’s got too much on the line not to.”

“What happened to you, anyway?” Khione asked innocently. “You look a little…disturbed.”

Medea’s eyes were practically incandescent. “Why you…there are some lies and…and slander going around, and there are some stupid people willing to believe it! Well, my father and I will set this right. We will!”

“Not the kind of image we want to be putting out,” Khione shrugged. 

Medea growled. “There is no way you’re kicking me out of this, you bitch! I’ve been doing music since before you started flashing your tits to every high schooler in New York!”

“Well, well, well.” The sound of heels echoed down the hallway. “Squabbling like little girls. Of course, you are all little girls, aren’t you?”

Circe had arrived. 

“It would almost be funny,” Circe sneered, “except that today…one of you girls is going to betray us.”

“What the Hades are you on about?” Medea said incredulously. 

With a single, elegant, motion, Circe drew a hand of tarot cards. “This morning, my cards showed me the truth. And one of you must go if we are to succeed.”

Piper turned from her position near the door, and raised an eyebrow.

The entire band had shuffled up close to the door, and they were all wearing identical smirks. 

“I’ll give it to her, that Annabeth is a genius. Turning them against each other, allowing them to destroy themselves.” Reyna muttered grudgingly. “And Nico…good job.”

Nico shrugged. “Once you had her attention, sneaking in was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out what combination of cards would bring her to this conclusion.”

Hazel and Leo silently hi-fived. 

“To bringing down the man,” Leo grinned. Hazel rolled her eyes.

Piper tapped her chin. “I wonder how Annabeth got Tanaka out of the picture. She’s the only one who could keep these vipers together.” 

Outside, the shouting began to escalate further and further. 

--

Just five minutes away, on the 45th floor of one of the most expensive apartment complexes in Manhattan, Drew Tanaka was pacing up and down outside her door, growing increasingly furious at both the rest of her band, the elevator company, and, inexplicably, at Piper McLean. 

It had been a foolproof plan, and Piper, ever the phony, hadn’t seen it coming. And it meant her complete and utter victory. Once the band’s first album had taken the world by storm, then her coronation would be complete. 

Of course, in order to do that, they had to launch their first performance. Drew had insisted that it be at the Altue; what better way to stick it to Piper?

But of all the variables, she had not reckoned on the elevator company deciding that two hours ago, and with zero notice, was the time to conduct a total top-to-bottom maintenance inspection on all the elevators in the building at once. 

It seemed nonsensical, and she had called her way up to the elevator company’s president, only for a polite woman to tell her that the president “wasn’t available”. 

Drew was absolutely fuming. 

This was most definitely not the start of a victory parade, and to make things worse, everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. 

Octavian hadn’t responded to any of her texts or calls, the headlines about Medea were starting to grow, and Circe had been posting ambiguous Insta stories about snakes and traitors for the past hour. 

Drew clenched her jaw, hard, cursing the elevator company. There was a lingering sense of unease, in that Drew had known that really it was only the promise of success that was holding her band together. 

She looked down at her phone again. There was a call that she had to make, but it irked her. Very much. Another glance at her Rolex, however, only confirmed that she was running out of time. 

Gritting her teeth, Drew dialed. 

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Drew kept her voice perky and steady, disguising her distaste with her usual efficiency. “Sorry to bother you, but I understand that your…father runs an elevator company.”

“Yes, he does,” Calypso replied, warily. 

Drew unclenched her jaw with an effort. Calypso Atlas, the perfect senior. No one could ever live up to the standards she had set, and there was no escaping her name in the Faculty of Music. 

It was mainly this that had kept Drew from attempting to befriend Calypso, or from scheming to bring her down, also because, somehow, there was nothing that Drew could find to use against her.

Very annoying. Drew hated to ask for help genuinely, and this was nothing less than a genuine request for help. 

“Your father’s company is currently dismantling my lifts,” Drew let only the slightest edge of irritation enter her voice, “so could you…possibly…talk to him? Or maybe you could come by, and get them to get the lifts working again. Just for a couple minutes. I really, really need to get down.”

“Why not take the stairs?” Calypso asked, her voice bemused. 

Drew restrained the urge to scream into her phone. 

“Because,” she gritted out, “I live on the 45th floor, and I have perfect makeup on right now…Please, would you just…help me? I’ll owe you one.”

Calypso sighed, and the crackle of it made Drew’s blood boil. 

After a couple seconds of silence, Calypso spoke. 

“Alright,” she said, “Just…give me a minute.”

She hung up before Drew’s false cheer could leave her lips, which only irritated her more. 

Deep breaths, Drew told herself. This is just a minor setback. A minor setback. The rest of the band are professionals, remember? They want this opportunity as much as you do. 

They wouldn’t mess this up. 

--

Jason heard the screaming match from the street, and he and Percy exchanged glances as they entered the front of the Altue, supporting the wholly inebriated frames of Bryce Lawrence and Ethan Nakamura. 

“Sounds like it worked,” Percy said. 

Nakamura peered blearily across the room. “What worked?”

“We made it to the Altue,” Jason said with false cheer. Lawrence let out a laugh. 

“Ah, Little Jace. Thank you for the…ride. We can take it…from here.” 

Jason shrugged and let go, as did Percy, as the two began to stumble down the corridor. 

“Do we want to be in the vicinity when all this goes off?” Jason asked. 

Percy frowned. “Probably…not…”

Percy’s voice trailed off as a man in a well-worn suit came barging down the stairs, Annabeth in his wake. 

“...and I better see Hunter in the front row!” the man was saying, scowling through beady eyes. “Cameras better be there.”

“CNN are already here,” Annabeth responded calmly. “Mr Hunter is arriving very soon.”

The man scowled at Jason and Percy. “Who are you two bozos? If you’re not working for me, then you better get out before I call security for trespassing!”

Jason nudged Percy, but he remained rooted to the spot, his eyes narrowed, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“They’re my handymen, Mr Miller,” Annabeth cut in. “They’ll be handling the equipment for the Argo II.”

Miller made a face. “All right, then. Get a move on!”

Percy started, and lurched into motion, giving Annabeth a quick nod. 

“What was that?” Jason hissed, as Percy stalked towards the Argo II’s dressing room. 

“Nothing,” Percy said unconvincingly. “Nothing. Come on, we gotta get you out of sight, Octavian’s due any minute now.”

--

In fact, Octavian had arrived at just that instant, and Piper had been snuck out the side doors to be at the front door to greet him. Frank was standing by as a makeshift bouncer, and he couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable. 

He knew Octavian, and even though he had only known Piper for less than a week, she was definitely way too good to be in the same room as him, much less having to fake interest. 

“Of course,” Piper was cooing in Octavian’s ear. “Come, come. Let’s go explore this place a little more!”

Fortunately, all she had to do was guide him towards Bryce Lawrence, whose drunken eyes lit up. Piper ducked out of the way in a smooth motion as Lawrence closed in on Octavian, grabbing him by his finely pressed lapel and shoving the two of them into the nearest closet. 

Piper dropped Frank a wink as she slid a broomstick into place between the handles of the closet, before tiptoeing away.

Frank had been having quite the enlightening day, if he was being honest. Watching Annabeth at work was truly a great opportunity. 

It was practically like having a masterclass on planning skills dropped right in his lap. Honestly? He kind of liked it. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Frank headed quickly back upstairs, into the small, cramped office which Annabeth had made her command post. This was Phase 8, the final detail of the master plan. It was all on him. 

“Good luck,” she said, offering Frank the landline. Frank took a deep breath, and cleared his throat. Annabeth gave him a nod, and Frank lifted the phone to his ear. 

In, and out. Feel the change. In, and out. 

He opened his eyes, narrowing them and letting out an annoyed exhale. In a perfect copy of Miller’s voice, Frank spoke, “Evening. This is Miller.”

--

“Hello, Mr Miller,” Drew put on her most conciliatory tone. “This is Drew Tanaka here.”

Her chauffeur took a quick turn, and Drew suppressed a grunt of surprise as she swung to one side of the car. She spared a moment to shoot a death glare at her chauffeur, who murmured an apology. 

“What do you want, Miss Tanaka?” Miller sounded a little off, but his gruffness was understandable, especially considering what Drew was about to ask.

“Mr Miller, I do apologise, but—”

He cut her off mercilessly. “You’re late.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Drew swallowed, “Mr Miller, I will be there once it begins, don’t worry about the soundcheck, I—”

“Your girls sound like they’re about to tear each other apart.” Miller was definitely frustrated. No wonder he sounded like his teeth were gritted. 

“I don’t think I need to remind you that if you don’t have a functional band, even if you do arrive on time, I won’t let you perform. And considering the expense and the reputations that are being put on the line, if you mess this up, you won’t work in this city ever again!”

Drew forced a thin smile. “Of…of course, Mr Miller…so, I will be there in five minutes for the soundcheck, if you would agree?”

“Five minutes, huh?” Miller scoffed. “Or I could simply terminate, Tanaka.”

“A five minute delay will be worth it,” Drew could feel her heart pounding in her chest. 

“Mr Miller, I think you underestimate just how big we are about to be.”

“Oh, I doubt so,” Miller snorted. “My lawyers did their due diligence on your damn contract…But fine. Five minutes as of one minute ago. Make your seconds count.”

Miller hung up with an infuriatingly loud click, freezing Drew’s snippy response in her throat. 

Even though the limousine which the Tanaka family had rented out was built out of the finest German steel, and had plush leather and thick plate-glass tinted windows, it was not, strictly speaking, soundproof.

And so, driving her truck beside the garishly expensive limousine, Katie Gardner winced at the scream emanating from the limousine.

“What’s her problem?” Katie muttered. 

“Not enough plants, maybe?” Travis Stoll shrugged from the passenger seat. “Probably she just realised that half of the city’s flowers were being transported in this truck.”

“And this is because of who?” Katie shook her head as the light turned green, and the limousine shot off with a growl and a screech of tyres. 

Travis held up his hands. “Katie, I thought you liked Percy!”

“Yes, I do,” Katie snapped, “But I know what usually happens when he asks you for a favour. Starts off with peppers in the soup, ends with us wasting our day before Christmas Eve delivering flowers in bulk which I’m sure he has no clue how to care for!”

Travis kept his hands up. “Grover will be there.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “You’re both lucky you’re cute,” she grumbled. 

Travis flashed her a maddening grin, “But I’m cuter, aren’t I?”

“You would be if you could keep those lips shut,” Katie retorted. 

But in the rear view mirror, even Katie could see the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. 

--

Calypso was honestly surprised that the Altue hadn’t caught on fire yet. The corridor that led to the band dressing rooms looked like a war zone, with shattered glass, torn fabrics, and makeup stains across the walls. 

The screaming was still audible, but it seemed that the fight had continued on down the corridor and out onto the stage. 

“You made it!” 

Hazel waved from the only door that seemed to have survived mostly unscathed, with a hastily rolled out felt carpet leading a safe path to the Argo II’s dressing room. 

“What is going on?” Calypso muttered, as Hazel ushered her into the makeup chair. 

“Circe and Medea are absolutely going ham on each other,” Nico ticked off his fingers, “Khione’s bra got torn during the fight so she’s hiding in the toilets, Bryce Lawrence is attempting to unsuccessfully screw Octavian, Ethan Nakamura is drunkenly yelling at everyone within earshot, Drew Tanaka is on her way, and we are due up for the soundcheck right…now.”

Just as he finished his sentence, the door opened, and in came Annabeth, flanked by Percy. 

“Let’s go,” she said smoothly, just the slightest quiver of nerves present in her voice. 

“Are we all ready to go?” Annabeth flicked her sharp gaze across the room. 

“Where’s Jason?” Piper asked, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

Annabeth shook her head. “Jason’s securing plan B. Anything else?”

Calypso shook her head, shrugging on the black jacket that Hazel was sliding onto her shoulders. It was part of the plan, Calypso figured, but as she looked around, she couldn’t help but be confused. 

Nico fit the metal/hard rock vibe, and so did Reyna, but Leo looked almost comical with heavy eyeliner and his wide grin. 

Calypso crushed down the errant thoughts about how adorkable Leo looked, and she definitely wasn’t exchanging faces with Leo as they walked down the hallway, definitely not! 

Frank was waiting for them backstage with a headset on, and he flashed them a thumbs-up as they got onto the stage. 

For a stage which had hastily been doubled in size, it bore almost no signs of the quick work that had been done on it, with near seamless joins between the original stage and the two new wings. 

Their equipment was settled stage left, the drum kit and an upright piano taking up much of the space, while amps and cables snaked from the area. The colour scheme was also noticeably monochrome, which made the bright pinks and oranges of the Tanakettes’ instruments look all the more contrasting. 

The curtain in the front of the stage was still tightly drawn, but the hubbub and chatter of dozens of people finding their seats filtered through. 

Calypso settled at the keys, finding her rhythm quickly with a quick series of scales to loosen up her fingers. A Korg stage keyboard sat primly facing the front of the stage, and Calypso gave it a whirl too.

Rock presets. Very interesting indeed. 

The first two songs in the planned setlist were more indie-folk style, but the next three were all rock and metal. 

Calypso had been listening to them all day, but she figured that the rock songs were a backup, since they had only been given a 10 minute performance slot anyway.

“Can I just say,” Leo smiled, his hands moving quickly around the drum kit, his feet tapping out a quick little rhythm, “You look absolutely stunning behind a piano.”

Calypso couldn’t help it, she smiled back. “Scrub off that eyeliner and I might say the same about you!”  

Leo opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the squeal of an electric guitar. 

“Flirt afterwards, lovebirds,” Reyna shook her head, smiling softly. 

Piper settled herself over the microphone and hummed. 

A man in a crumpled suit got onto the stage, nodding reluctantly. “They sound good, Ms Chase, I’ll give you that. And at least you’re on time. Not like the Tanaka woman. She’s got negative four minutes to complete her soundcheck, and it looks like that isn’t going to happen.”

Calypso suppressed a grin at that. Being in the Atlas family had its perks. 

“We’re ready, Mr Miller,” Piper called. Her voice was steady. 

Miller checked his watch, then shrugged. 

“Ah, why not.” He signalled to a crew member behind him. “Curtain.”

He turned to Annabeth. “I hope you lot are ready. Because I have to say, I underestimated this goddamn crowd. I suppose I have you to thank for it, Ms Chase…if this band aren’t a dud.”

Annabeth nodded, not saying a word. She turned to the Argo II members, and cracked a smile. 

"This is Phase 9. Just do your thing. Break a leg!"

She turned and disappeared backstage. 

Calypso could feel her senses sharpening as the curtain began to swing open, the stage lights adjusting, feel the fading footsteps of Miller and Annabeth backstage. She hadn’t performed in a couple months, she realised. 

Her fingers were filled with nerves, and her heart was pumping with excitement. Calypso exchanged glances with the rest of the band. 

Identical expressions. 

Oh, she realised, how she had missed this. 

--

“What the hell are you two doing!” Drew screamed. Circe and Medea froze, arms locked in a makeshift wrestle on the ground. 

Mulishly, Medea stood, sneering at Circe. “The old witch here is—”

“This bitch is—” Circe begun. 

“Enough!” Drew cut them both off. “I’ll drop both of your records out onto Instagram immediately if you don’t get up on that stage!”

That shut them up. 

“Where’s Khione?” Drew demanded. 

They both shrugged. The Bobofit girl emerged from a corner, a cigarette between her fingers. 

“Ice Queen’s hiding in the toilet.”

“Get her out!” Drew snapped. Gods, how did she ever put up with these useless skanks?

Bobofit shrugged. “Well, Medea tore her bralette, and Khione refuses to put on anything else, so she’s staying there…unless she suddenly gets the urge to show her tits to everyone on that stage.”

A vein pulsed in Drew’s forehead, and she could feel the sweat starting to build on her makeup. This was bad. Very bad. 

“Get her in a shirt and out onto that stage!” Drew ordered. “Medea, Circe, with me. We need our soundcheck done, right now! We’ve got one minute, so let’s go!”

It was undignified to run, but Drew was desperate enough to disregard that notion. 

Especially when, to her absolute horror, she could see the curtain opening. 

No, no, no, no!

She redoubled her efforts, thundering backstage and pushing past a couple technicians and some big-sized Asian man blocking their way. 

Drew was acutely aware that the three of them looked terrible, but that didn’t matter! These were just a starter crowd, after all, and once she began performing, they would all see that the Tanakettes were the greatest band in the—

She froze as she stepped onto the stage. 

This crowd…this was not a starter crowd of fifty pre-picked fangirls and several critics on Medea’s payroll. 

It looked at least a hundred and fifty people stuffed into the lot, cheering, and a lush judges’ table in front of the stage. 

Gods, was that Sabrina Carpenter? And Tristan Hunter? Laughing with Kelly Clarkson and Blake Shelton? 

What was going on? 

A bit of movement caught her eye. Drew turned to her left, and she understood. Her blood ran cold as it all fell into place. 

Piper McLean stood in immaculate makeup, dressed up in a hideous Gothic outfit, waving perkily at her with a full band behind her. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” boomed out the voice of an announcer. “I give to you, exclusive to the Altue Cafe, Manhattan’s hottest sensations going head to head! Over here, stage left, the Argo Two!”

Piper took a quick half-bow, and the rest of the band played a quick little riff. 

And that was when three burly men in black security outfits hustled onto the stage. 

“Miss Tanaka?” One of them called out. “I’m sorry, but you’ve been disqualified.”

“What?” Drew rasped. “We’re…we’re here right within the five minute extension!”

The man looked puzzled. “Mr Miller’s instructions were clear, ma’am. There is no extension. You were never supposed to be on that stage once you missed the deadline.”

Drew blinked, stupefied. But…but…how? 

Who? 

She was so stunned that she allowed herself to be ushered offstage, just in time to watch Khione and Bobofit scurry up the corridor towards them. 

Behind her, Piper’s band struck up another series of triumphant chords. 

In a daze, Drew drifted down the corridor, settling beside a closet with a broom stuck between the handles. 

There was muffled groaning coming from inside it, and automatically, Drew pulled the broom out. 

The closet exploded open, and out came Octavian, his pants around his ankles, his eyes wild. 

“Tanaka!” he shrieked. “Save me!”

Instinct took over as a dark shadow leapt from the closet, and Drew swung the broom with all her might. 

It snapped in half, and Bryce Lawrence collapsed in a heap on the ground. 

“Octavian?” Drew said dully. “We’ve…we’ve been disqualified.”

“What?” Octavian frowned. “That’s not possible. Who’s gonna take the stage so late? Surely Miller isn’t that dumb—”

“Piper McLean,” Drew forced the name through her lips. “Piper McLean and her raggedy band of rejects. That dumb boy who hangs around Jason, the emo from History, even that Reyna girl, the boxing one! Wannabe musicians!”

Octavian’s eyes narrowed, and Drew’s spirits rose. That meant something. Octavian’s conniving little brain was kicking back up into full gear. 

“Leo Valdez and Nico di Angelo?”

“Whatever their names are,” Drew spat. “Do you have a way to stop them?”

Octavian laughed. “Oh, Tanaka. They’ve gone and overlooked the simplest little detail. I don’t. That’s what makes me the best.”

He dialled a number. “Mr Miller? You recall our private contract I signed with you? Go back and reread clause 18(1)(b). It’s on the reverse side of the page. You have thirty seconds to stop this madness before we sue.”

Octavian hung up immediately. “I always do backups.”

--

Nico knew something was wrong when the curtain went back down halfway through their first song. Piper and Calypso had adjusted incredibly fast, Calypso altering the harmony naturally along with Piper to time a natural-sounding ending halfway through the second chorus. 

Muted applause burst out. 

Leo stilled a cymbal with his fingers, and a dreadful silence covered the stage. 

“What’s happening?” Reyna hissed. “What the hell was that?”

“That,” came the voice of Miller, with disgust in his tone, “was the result of you trying to trick me.”

He came striding onto the stage, sneering. Annabeth followed behind him, her eyes downcast, furiously speaking into her headset.

Nico caught the end of Annabeth's sentence. 

"—them up now. Contingency Plan Beta."  

Miller was followed by a pair of burly bouncers. “Your little rivals’ manager snuck in a little clause into our manager-to-manager contract, that any competitions have to be a band which signs with an all-female ensemble.”

Miller directed pointed glances at Nico and Leo. “Ordinarily, I’d just ignore him, because I have to admit the crowd loves you. But, I’ve also seen some convincing evidence that you’ve been sabotaging your rivals. I’m not beyond a little backdoor scheming, but…impersonating me? Wasting my resources? Tarnishing my name?”

Miller shook his head. “Never. Never.”

Leo directed desperate glances around. 

“What, so that’s it? No way, no goddamn way! You can’t kick us offstage just for that! At least let me and Nico step aside, and…and…”

Nico silenced Leo with a hand. 

“We apologize,” Nico said firmly, directing Leo a stern look. “Leo and I will leave, and—”

“And you won’t have a full band,” Miller cut in. “Which is also a requirement. Besides, it’s too late. According to my agreement with Ms Chase, the replacement band which she had to procure is about to arrive.”

Nico felt his heart sinking. He had no qualms about getting offstage, but there had to be a way to keep Piper, Reyna and Calypso on. The bouncers moved towards them.

Then, Nico saw Annabeth put a hand to her earpiece. 

Annabeth raised her head and smiled. 

“The replacement band is here, Mr Miller,” Annabeth sounded cowed, but her eyes blazed triumphantly. 

A familiar voice began to call over the speakers. 

“May I present, with Piper McLean—”

“What?” Miller snapped. “That’s not—”

“—Reyna Arellano!” boomed the announcer, “Calypso Atlas! They are the latest members of the band which has swept the nation…”

Screams and a roar of approval came from the crowd.

A heavy thud, booted feet landing on the stage. 

The curtain was pulled open, and there stood Jason, holding the announcer’s microphone, signalling for the curtain to open fully. 

Behind Miller, Frank did exactly that, having been watching the backstage techs and memorising their equipment. 

The curtain began to move, Jason spun aside, and a smile involuntarily cracked onto Nico’s face. 

Annabeth’s voice rang in Nico’s head.  “ Jason’s securing plan B. ” 

Striding in with a swagger were three girls dressed in silver and black, in similar makeup to the rest of the Argo II. A violin and its bow rested on the shoulder of the girl in the front. 

One of the other girls skipped towards Nico, smiling.

"I never thought you'd show up to one of these," Bianca smirked, as Nico unslung his bass and handed it over.

Nico shook his head fondly. "Don't you dare break it."

"Your bass? Who would do that?" Bianca wrinkled her nose, her fingers settling comfortably over the strings.

The last girl replaced Leo on the drums. 

Miller blinked, and with a look of intense distaste, stormed off the stage, impotent. Annabeth practically collapsed against the backstage wall in relief. 

“...so, New York, PLEASE GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS! ”

Thalia Grace winked at Annabeth, put her bow to the strings of the electric violin, and turned to Piper. 

“Let’s get this thing started!”

The stage erupted into a spectacle of music and applause, sound and fury, and even Nico couldn’t help but let out a primal yell of approval. 

--

Ten minutes and one encore later, Piper stumbled backstage as the curtain fell, giddy on the adrenaline high. 

“Whooo!” she cheered, wrapping an arm around Thalia. 

“That was awesome!” 

Thalia smiled, slinging her arm over Piper’s shoulders. “You’ve got a kickass voice, Piper. You’ve got my approval to date my brother.”

Piper froze. “You’re…Jason’s sister?”

Thalia laughed, a brash, fearless sound. “Thalia Grace. Jason speaks highly of you.”

A blush began to rise on Piper’s cheeks, and she stammered out an embarrassed half-reply before Reyna saved her from further incoherence.

“Wait, so are you guys full-time Hunters?” Reyna narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were in the Army or something, Thalia.”

Thalia shrugged. “Well, yes. Why do you think we called ourselves the Hunters of Artemis? We’re all either current or former Army personnel. Hell, just yesterday I was in Georgia with the rest of the Rangers, luckily I could pull a couple strings to come down here for the weekend.”

Calypso nodded, impressed. “Multi-talented as well. You’re a genius on that violin.”

Thalia acknowledged the compliment with a grin. “Oh, and these are Phoebe and Bianca. They were the closest two that I could pick up.”

“How’d you know to bring a bassist and a drummer?” Piper asked. 

“Hunters are all multi-instrumentalists,” Bianca smiled. “And also, your friend Annabeth was very specific.”

“You guys were fantastic!” Hazel popped up in front of them with a massive grin. 

“McLean!” 

The voice was cracking with anger, venomous in its distaste, and so Piper was not at all surprised to see Drew Tanaka standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the backstage area, flanked by the Tanakettes. 

“Evening, Drew,” Piper tried her level best to keep the smugness from her voice. From the warning look on Hazel’s face, Piper knew she had failed. 

“You humiliated me!” Drew was practically steaming. 

Piper couldn’t help herself. “Cool down there, Tanaka. Your mascara’s about to melt, and I feel for whichever poor soul you’ve paid to wipe your tears tonight.”

Thalia pulled Piper to the left just in time for Drew to come rushing up the stairs. 

Hazel stuck out a foot and tripped Drew, who landed in a heap on the stage. 

“Take them!” Drew raged, “Now!”

“This might get ugly,” Piper warned Thalia. “We should probably get out of here. One thing all of these skanks have in common is some form of martial arts training.”

Hazel nodded as the girls went back to back as the Tanakettes began to surround them. 

“She’s not joking. They were all student council presidents. Cutthroat.”

Thalia cracked her knuckles, a smirk on her face. 

“And what about the rest of you girls?” Thalia looked at Piper and Hazel. “You gonna be alright?”

Piper brought her fists up into a guard position. “Boxing. Five years.”

“Kickboxing,” Reyna looked unperturbed. “Recently some jujitsu.”

“Usually I just kick the groin as hard as I can and run,” Hazel shrugged. “I grew up in a rough neighbourhood.”

“Good,” Thalia smiled. “Hunters? Let’s show them who’s boss.”

Phoebe made the first move, a blur of black and silver, Bianca propelling Phoebe into the air. 

As Medea’s eyes instinctively tracked Phoebe, Thalia stepped forward into a crushing right hook that sent her reeling.

Khione caught a boot to the jaw from Reyna and crumpled. 

Piper barely brought her arms up in time to absorb a cracking roundhouse kick from Drew, but she rode the blow, closing the distance quickly to unload a quick combination into Drew’s stomach and a couple throws at her head. 

All around Piper, the entire stage was devolving into chaos. Phoebe and Bianca were circling Circe, who seemed unperturbed, while Thalia was whooping as she ducked a cymbal thrown by Nancy. 

Piper grunted as Drew landed a solid kick to her side

This was, Piper figured, not going to end up too well. So she might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

She timed her next shot to perfection, sliding past Drew’s guard to crack a left straight into her nose. 

--

“Is there anything else?” Annabeth asked, fighting to keep her voice level. Miller was still in disbelief, sitting at his desk with a snarl on his face and a half-drunk whiskey in front of him. 

She tried to think. Miller would still be getting the lion’s share of the revenue from the show, of course, and had been promised royalties from the band’s first five records. Surely he couldn’t be too mad about the Tanakettes being a failure. 

Miller took another sip from his glass of whiskey. 

“Yes, there is, Miss Chase,” Miller’s jaw was tightly clenched. “You’ve made me look like an idiot.”

Annabeth frowned, her heart pounding. “I…We apologize for any…errors in our representation. I assure you that we did not mean any—”

“Cut the crap, Chase!” Miller snapped. “You’re a college student with no background in music, no qualifications, no nothing. So what if you really were representing Tristan Hunter? That doesn’t mean you’re immune to a fraud lawsuit.”

Annabeth raised her hands placatingly. “Mr Miller, please—”

“And you will be hearing from my lawyers,” Miller threatened, his eyes burning in anger. “Not to mention I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure none of your little friends ever takes to the stage ever again. An official complaint to Olympus University would be a good start, wouldn’t it? Get your merry little band thrown out!”

“Cut the crap, Miller,” came a mild voice behind Annabeth. “How much?”

“Get your assistant under control,” Miller sneered at Annabeth.

Percy stepped into the room, folding his arms. “I’m not officially her assistant.”

“I don’t care who you are,” Miller snarled. “I want you out of my office!”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I’ll ask again. How much do you want? We’ll give you a bigger cut, another upfront payment, in exchange for your promise not to do any of those things you’ve just threatened to do.”

Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, but she glanced at Percy, his beautiful green eyes wide in alarm. Percy laid a light hand on her forearm. His eyes pleaded. 

Trust me.

Reluctantly, Annabeth stepped back, her mind working. What did Percy have in mind? Money wasn’t going to work this time, not on wounded pride. 

“You and your girlfriend can screw off,” Miller snorted. “I’d rather have the satisfaction of watching you upstarts fail.”

“How about a friendly wager?” Percy’s tone was neutral, but his New York accent was suddenly more prominent. “We’ll put all we’ve got on the table. A heads-up game, just you and me.”

“In your dreams, kid,” Miller’s voice was a lot calmer, but still derisive. “I’m not losing anything more tonight.”

Percy nodded. “That’s just it, Mr Miller. You won’t. If you win this game, you get all the revenue from this show and from the Argo II, along with a guarantee we’ll make and advertise two albums, including a Hunters of Artemis collaboration. If you lose, you retain all the benefits of our original contract, plus a lump sum payment of half the first record deal we get. Either way, you get more than you would have got on our original record.”

“And what do you get if you win?” Miller folded his arms. 

Percy spread his hands. “You accept the deal and agree not to raise any form of legal, civil, or disciplinary actions or sanctions against any of us.”

Miller tapped his glass, thinking. 

“And…this,” Percy took out a card from his wallet. “Platinum access to Club Olympus. All of the prestigious alumni of Olympus University at your fingertips.”

Miller downed the last of his whiskey. 

“Alright. Sit down, kid. One hand?”

“One hand,” Percy confirmed, settling into the chair opposite Miller’s desk. 

A tense silence settled over the room, and Annabeth could only stand, powerless, as Miller pulled a deck of cards from his desk and shuffled, dealing quickly. 

Annabeth narrowed her eyes as Miller leaned back into his chair, giving a low whistle as he eyed Percy across the desk. 

Percy gave nothing away, except…

He’d blinked twice quickly when looking at his cards. Then a third and fourth. 

Annabeth could feel her heart racing in her chest. If she could see it, then so could Miller, who never would have agreed unless he was an old hand at the poker table. 

Annabeth scrutinised Miller’s face. The man could have been a concrete wall, and Annabeth would’ve figured out more. 

Percy leaned back in his chair. 

“Bet you think I’m just a kid , huh, Eddie?” Percy’s voice took on a sudden, sharp edge. “And to think you used to be the decent one.”

Miller blinked, swallowing audibly. “What the fuck?”

“It wasn’t that long ago you were playing losing hands with Gabe on the Upper East Side,” Percy looked wistful. “The old son of a bitch making me give him my change. You tried to get him off my back. I used to root for you, y’know?”

Miller was rattled. Seriously rattled. 

Percy continued. “Sometimes I’d sneak back into the room and watch over your shoulder, because you were the only one who wouldn’t cuff my ears for ‘cheating’ for Gabe. That’s why I know you have a jack and a seven, and that’s not gonna be enough.”

Miller’s eyes were wide, his jaw open. “Percy? That you, son?”

Percy kept his eyes fixed on Miller. “What’s it gonna be, Eddie? You gonna fold, or am I gonna have to call?”

Edward “Eddie” Miller, the former super of an apartment building on East 104th and 1st, laid his cards down slowly. “Fold.”

The unbearable pressure in Annabeth’s head disappeared, and she had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around Percy and kissing him, right then and there.

“Percy…Jesus, how long has it been?”

Percy’s shoulders relaxed. He tossed his cards onto the desk. “It’s been six years, Eddie. And I only had two fours.”

Eddie whistled again, laughing. “Alright, Percy, alright. Good to see I taught you something. Where is Smelly Gabe Ugliano, anyway?”

“Always more than 100 feet from me or my mom,” Percy shrugged. “The cops and the ADA were willing to lend a hand after me and Grover helped uncover that serial killer in New Jersey.” 

“And you’re in Olympus U?” Eddie shook his head. “Always knew you were smarter than they gave you credit for.”

“So,” Percy smiled. “Are we all good here?”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, alright. It wasn’t too bad, anyway. And the publicity will be quite spectacular. But…don’t make this a habit. I can forgive a couple extenuating circumstances, but once it becomes an ongoing trend…my lawyers are always ready to go.”

Annabeth met Eddie’s eyes, and gave him a firm nod. “Yes, sir. I’ll…I’ll keep him out of trouble.”

“Out of trouble is right,” Eddie leaned down and extracted another bottle of whiskey from his desk. “Go on, you two. Get on out of here.”

He refilled his glass. 

“And Percy, Perseus!” Eddie raised his glass. “That was a brilliant bluff. Say hi to your mom.”

Percy broke into a smile. “Thanks, Eddie. See you soon.”

It took all the way until they reached the foyer when it finally clicked in Annabeth’s head. 

Percy. Perseus. Sally Jackson. Gabe Ugliano. 

Perseus Ugliano. 

A cold sensation gripped at Annabeth’s throat and down into her chest, and she stopped walking. 

That was the name of the tenant renovating his apartment, the one who had caused the noise which had nearly ruined her year. Suddenly, everything was flying into place. 

The cardboard boxes in Percy’s room in Jason’s apartment. 

Percy didn’t live with Jason full-time. The fact that Tyson was involved in the construction, Percy’s half-brother. 

The way, ever since she’d met Percy, the noise had been minimised as much as possible, even sometimes longer than would be necessary for a lunch break. 

How Percy kept offering the Sea of Foam for her use. His constant interventions, and his stuttering and careful word choices whenever they were talking to Hephaestus or Tyson about the renovation. 

How he had agreed immediately to practically every demand she made.

Because it was him. 

He was responsible for a renovation plan that involved devastation of the floorboards. Without consulting anyone else. 

Annabeth could feel her stomach dropping into a massive pit. 

And Percy had lied to her. 

“ The owner’s not in. ”

“ My finals ended yesterday, so I can swing by and…apologise. ”

Had been lying to her. 

And if he had been lying about this, about the very start, then who knew what else he could be lying about?

Annabeth’s blood turned to ice in her veins. No, no, not again. She could not have another Luke Castellan in her life. 

“Annabeth?” Percy was staring at her quizzically. “Are you okay?”

He moved closer, but Annabeth stepped backwards quickly, jerking her hand away from his.

Her heart ached, and her breath was caught in her throat as she looked up at him, at those worried eyes. 

And he understood. That was what made it even more painful. That a few days was enough for him to understand her the way no one really had since Luke and Thalia when they had all first met. 

“Annabeth,” Percy raised his hands. “Please, if you’ll let me explain—”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Annabeth cut him off softly. “I’m…I’m going to leave. And I don’t want to see you again.”

Her vision was blurring, her head was spinning. Annabeth lifted her chin and stalked past, some part of her willing Percy to grab her arm, to explain, to assure her that he meant everything he had told her, that he would never leave her, never betray her like Luke did. 

Like they all had. 

Annabeth raised her milkshake first. “To shitty parents.”

When they were done, they raised the glasses of whisky.

“And shitty step-parents,” Percy added.

Annabeth refused to let her hands move, to show weakness, even as the first tears leaked from her eyes. 

Percy didn’t move. She could feel his eyes on her back. Pleading. Knowing that he had hurt her, not willing to hurt her any more by acting in this moment. 

“I hate all of my habits, but I…I happen to love you,” Annabeth whispered, the sound of it clear in the elevator, even as the sound of tools and voices began to grow.

“I…I hope that’s true.”

Percy reached down, and tilted her head to his.

“It’s true,” Percy said.

It had seemed true at the time. 

They always did, Annabeth knew. Or rather, should've known. They always seemed true until they weren’t.

--

Jason had been having a very intimidating conversation with Piper’s dad when someone opened the curtain, just in time for Jason to watch his sister nail Nancy Bobofit with a snare drum. 

“Sorry, Mr McLean,” Jason said hastily.

Tristan McLean shook his head, resigned. “Get her out of trouble, Jason. If you can do that consistently, you’ll make an excellent son-in-law.”

Jason shot Tristan a salute, fighting the blush in his cheeks, before vaulting up onto the stage, arms up. Nico and Leo came racing after him. 

“Okay, break it up!” Jason bellowed. “Break it—”

A meaty smack cut him off mid-sentence, and Drew Tanaka collapsed to the ground, groaning in agony. 

Piper stood over her, shooting Jason an apologetic look.

Jason sighed. “Alright, it’s all over! Okay? Get off the stage, and let’s all go home!”

Hazel, crouched beside the equipment panel with Frank, thumbed the button to close the curtain. 

“Your girl can punch, Jason!” Thalia smirked. “Approved.”

“Thank you for that, Thalia,” Jason sighed. “Come on, everyone. Let’s get out of here.”

Jason slung an arm around Piper, who was limping slightly. “Come on, Beauty Queen. Let’s get some ice on you back home.”

Piper smirked at him, a black eye and with scuffed makeup. She was still the most beautiful thing in existence, Jason decided. 

“Take me home, then.”

Hazel and Frank let out matching “awwwws” as they cleared the stage, grabbing their gear and chattering away, Nico and Bianca walking huddled up beside each other, Leo and Calypso trading barbs.

They headed out the back entrance and begun the process of Ubering. 

It was nighttime, and a light snow was wisping through the breeze in between the Manhattan buildings, swirling through the streetlights and the glow of the city that never sleeps. 

Murmurs and cheers from the dispersing audience echoed across from the front of the Altue. 

Jason frowned. A lone figure was stalking away through the lightly falling snow, head down, blonde curls falling down her back. 

“Piper, is that…”

“Annabeth!” Percy’s voice came from the building, and out he came, eyes wide in panic. “Annabeth, I…”

His voice faltered, and Percy came to a stop.

“What…what happened?” Piper whispered, her eyes wide. 

Jason turned his head. Annabeth hadn’t turned, hadn’t slowed, just continued to walk away. 

And Jason turned to watch the desperation turn to defeat in Percy’s eyes. 

“Percy, what happened?” Jason reached out. “Hey, man. Hey. What happened?”

Percy’s eyes were reddened from tears, and his voice was a raspy whisper. 

“Same as always, Jason. I messed it up. I had something great, and then I went and messed it up. I tried to be different, and I just…I messed it up.”

Percy stared despairingly at Annabeth, her silhouette fading into the night.

“I lost her. I tried so hard to keep her that I lost her.”

A solemn silence fell over the crew of the Argo II, as the New York winter suddenly became colder, a chill leaking through a broken window in an apartment, until all the warmth that was there had gone. 

Chapter Text

DECEMBER 25TH. NEW YORK CITY.

Christmas in the apartment had not quite been as great as previous years. There were many reasons for this, of course, but the biggest one was the fact that Annabeth was spending it resolutely inside her room. 

She could hear the low chatter from the living room, cheerful voices as the rest of the crew sat around the makeshift campfire that Leo had assured all of them was completely safe. 

Helping Leo design it had been one of the few things which made her feel better. 

Percy wasn’t even there, of course. 

The idiot had refused to come. Idiot. 

Piper and Hazel had done their very best to console her in the previous week since the Argo II’s performance, but they didn’t know everything about Luke. Even Thalia didn’t quite understand, which wasn’t her fault at all. 

It was those empty years, when Thalia had been separated from them and sent to a foster family in Maine, a Christmas tree farm with shitty reception, and before Annabeth had made it to Olympus U and met Hazel and Piper. 

That period when all she’d had was Luke Castellan. That period after Luke Castellan, when she’d had nothing. 

Annabeth put her head down into her crying towel and waited for the prickling to start around her eyes. 

Outside, there was a muted cheer, and the sound of a door opening. Annabeth raised her head in curiosity. Wasn’t everyone here already? Who else could be coming? The living room was already pretty much packed to bursting. 

Maybe Thalia had invited more of her Ranger friends. 

Or Reyna had got Clarisse to join them. 

Footsteps down the hall. Annabeth sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes. Hang on, she knew those footsteps. The cheer…of course. 

She wondered who had managed to wrangle his contact information. Was it Leo, hacking the NSA? Thalia was the only one who knew him personally. Did she drive her motorcycle all the way down to LA and drag him out to the East Coast? 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Don’t overthink it,” a familiar voice chuckled. “Smartest solution is always the simplest.”

Annabeth let out a strangled laugh. “Hazel follows you on Instagram.”

She padded forward and opened the door. 

“You get a prize,” Malcolm smiled, opening his arms. “It’s been too long, little sis.”

Annabeth wrapped her arms around her older brother, sighing as she relaxed into his grip. 

“Not that I’m not grateful you’re here,” Annabeth sniffled, “but did you seriously come all the way from LA just because my friend DMed you?”

“Anything for you,” Malcolm said firmly. “Anyway, it’s not like they really need me over there at Christmas.”

Annabeth snorted. “Sure they don’t.”

“Smartass,” Malcolm shook his head. “Come on, sit me down. What kind of mess did you get yourself into this time?”

Annabeth sighed, slumping onto her bed. 

“The worst kind,” Annabeth admitted. 

Her bed creaked as Malcolm sat down beside her. 

“Ooh. That bad, huh?”

Annabeth grunted in lieu of a response. 

Malcolm let out a long breath. “Okay, come on. Who are we, Annabeth? We’re thinkers, aren’t we? Aristotle, Socrates, Plato. Let’s lay out the problem, and then we’ll solve it.”

“Life isn’t that easy,” Annabeth mumbled. “It never was.”

Malcolm lay down, patting Annabeth’s knee. “Alright, you pessimist. Face up.”

Mulishly, Annabeth complied, feeling small again, looking for anyone to come and tell her that she was doing good, that she was right, that she was safe. 

“Think it through,” Malcolm said calmly. “Remember what we learned together. Think it through.”

Annabeth sniffed. She cast her eyes up to the ceiling, that awfully silent ceiling, on the other side of which was Percy. Well, not today. She'd seen him leave for his mother's place earlier. No, she was not a stalker. Just observant, that was all.

She wondered; did he feel lonely without her? Did he regret what he had done? Did it matter if he did?

“There was a boy,” Annabeth began, “and there was me. He lied to me. I fell in love with him like an idiot. I found out about his lie. That’s it, that’s the story.”

Malcolm let out a breath. 

“Okay, that sounds bad. That sounds like…well, like Luke Castellan, may his prison sentence continue to be long and hard.”

“I heard he appealed,” Annabeth spoke into her pillow. 

Malcolm waved a hand. “Come on, Annabeth, what kind of district attorney do you think I am? His appeal was dismissed two days ago.”

“Good,” Annabeth muttered. “He deserves it.”

She could feel Malcolm’s eyes watching her carefully. 

“I notice you haven’t said a single bad thing about this boy,” Malcolm said. “And I don’t know about you, but I trust your friends. They seem like good judges of character. Listen, I…I know I wasn’t there for you when the whole Luke thing went down but…this…this feels different.”

With reluctance, Annabeth tore her eyes from the ceiling. 

“It is different,” Annabeth admitted. “Percy is…he…I know he never intended to hurt anyone. Not like Luke. He wanted to hurt people.”

“So why,” Malcolm said gently, “are you still trying to pretend that they’re the same?”

Annabeth felt the tears build in her eyes. Damn Malcolm and his unflappable logic. They were too much alike for their own good. 

Malcolm leaned back slowly. “I know it takes time. I know. It…”

“It sucks,” Annabeth said, without preamble. 

“Yeah,” Malcolm sighed. “It does.”

The room fell into silence again, this time that uncertain one which meant that Malcolm had something he wanted to say to her that he wasn’t sure that Annabeth would like. 

The last time that had happened it was because Malcolm had forgotten which type of ballpoint pens Annabeth had liked. 

The time before that was when Malcolm had signed his contract with the law firm which had paid for his law school but also sent him away to the East Coast for five years, leaving Annabeth to finish high school alone. 

“I uh…I stopped by Dad’s before I came over.” Malcolm’s voice was a whisper. “He’s…he’s doing okay. I suppose. The same, really. Bobby’s a starter on the baseball team. Matthew’s topping algebra.”

Annabeth blinked away the tears. Hard. 

“Bobby says he never forgot when you taught him how to throw. And Matthew dug out your old notebooks. Says he’d never have snagged that A without you. And Dad…he doesn’t know how to say it, but he misses you.”

Paper rustled, and Malcolm gently placed three small boxes onto Annabeth’s stomach. 

“Merry Christmas, sis.”

Malcolm pressed a tissue into Annabeth’s hand. 

“Now come on, get up. I didn’t travel all this way just to cry.”

Annabeth couldn’t help it, and still sniffling, she laughed for the first time in days.

--

“You look distracted,” Sally clucked. 

Percy winced. “Sorry. Sorry, Mom.”

“Have another cookie, Percy,” Tyson shoved the massive tray into Percy’s lap, his left eye boring worriedly into Percy’s skull. “Come on, we made them extra blue this year.”

Stuffing a cookie into his mouth was an excellent way of avoiding conversation, so that was exactly what Percy did, mumbling appreciatively around the cookie. 

Paul was standing in the doorway, watching Percy with knowing eyes. Way too knowing, in fact. 

Percy had been fairly certain that he’d managed to get the message across to Tyson not to tell Sally about Annabeth and how everything had gone done, and Tyson had never broken a promise before. 

But Percy was starting to realise that he hadn’t sworn Tyson to secrecy from Paul. And Tyson, for all his guileless charm and straightforward, hammer-nail logic, was occasionally incredibly good at finding loopholes. 

“Sally,” Paul’s voice seemed neutral, which was never a good sign. English teachers never talked neutrally if they could help it. Well, the good ones, anyway. “Do you remember when we first met?”

Sally frowned. “Well, yes, why?”

“Ah, young love,” Paul sighed, his dramatic streak emerging. “Oh, the joys and pains of college dating. You know, Sally, before that seminar, I always told myself that one day, I’d get myself a college girlfriend who was sweet and funny. And then I asked you out, after that lesson on antagonists.”

Sally shook her head fondly. “And of course, I said no.”

Paul turned to Percy, spreading his hands out wide. “She said no!”

Percy resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Tyson was looking at Percy hopefully. Oh, he’d definitely told Paul about Annabeth. Probably not the specifics, but the gist of it. 

“But I didn’t want to give up,” Paul continued, side-eyeing Percy in possibly the least discreet manner possible. 

“And so, I didn’t,” Paul settled an arm over Sally’s shoulders, nodding earnestly at Percy. “I had to explain everything. That I didn’t care that she was divorced. Or had a kid. That I didn’t just ask her out because she was pretty, although of course she really is.”

“That’s wonderful, Paul,” Percy forced himself to smile. “Not that, you’ll forgive me, I ever wanted to have to imagine my mom’s romantic life.”

“Oh.” A guilty look shaded over Paul’s face for a few moments, before he narrowed his eyes and clarity dawned. “Ah. Okay. So I guess we’ll just not talk about it.”

“Not talk about what?” Sally took a very long and very suspicious sip from her hot chocolate. 

A panicked look stole into Paul’s eyes as Tyson began to wave frantically from behind Sally’s shoulders, and Percy developed a very intense interest in the wallpaper. Wow, it was so…blue.

Like um…blue stuff. Cookies? No, no, well, maybe. But no. This shade of blue was more like um, maybe the Caribbean Sea in summer. Or maybe further north. Maybe the Sargasso Sea. 

And just like that, her voice rang in his head, clear as a bell. 

“ Kept making excuses for me to stay in his room. You know; why don’t you read this article about octopi? Let me tell you the exact shade of blue my bedsheets are and how it matches the…Sargasso Sea or whatever it was. ”

Percy opened his mouth to come up with some quick excuse, because he could tell that Paul was melting under Sally’s glare, but Tyson beat him to the punch.

“Oh, it was just some guy talk, Sally,” Tyson smiled nervously. “Y-you wouldn’t want to hear about that stuff. You know, baseball, swimming, um, gym techniques.”

“Guy talk.” Sally sounded about as convinced as if Tyson had told her he was actually a cyclops from Greek myth and that his father was Poseidon, God of the Sea. 

Sally took a knowing sip. “About a girl.”

Percy knew he had a great poker face, and in fact it recently had won the Argo II their freedom from a lawsuit ( see Chapter 5 ), but the others did not. Tyson and Paul gave away the game instantly. 

“Yes, Mom,” Percy sighed before Tyson could come up with a fumbling excuse that would only make Sally even more interested in this particular dilemma. 

“It is about a girl.”

“And you chose not to ask me about it?” Sally raised an eyebrow, and it was all Percy could do not to wilt against the force of her disappointment. “Percy. Please. I’ve been waiting for so long for you to finally get another girlfriend after Rachel—”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend,” Percy muttered. “We knew each other for about two weeks. It wasn’t…it wasn’t anything serious.”

“But it could’ve been,” Sally laid her arm around Percy’s back, and Percy instinctively leaned into it, sighing and reaching down finally to the cookies on the plate in his lap. 

“Yeah,” Percy mumbled around a cookie. “It could’ve. Felt like it was.”

“What’s her name?” Sally asked. 

“Annabeth,” Percy said, fixing his gaze wistfully on the Christmas tree. “Her name’s Annabeth. I met her when she was trying to kill Hephaestus, you know, the repair guy?”

Sally laughed. “Oh, I like her already.”

“You would really like her,” Percy smiled.

Sally’s face became more serious. “So…what happened?”

Percy sighed again, and took a fortifying sip of his mom’s hot chocolate. 

“Well Mom, I…may have lied to her. A little bit.”

The delicate way that Sally picked up her own mug, as well as the genial expression on her face, belied what Percy was certain was a massive wave of disappointment. 

“Lied?”

“Deliberately misled,” Percy tried again. “About the fact that I was the one who hired Hephaestus in the first place.”

Sally asked questions better than a police interrogator, no flash, just straight to the bone. 

“And why would this have made her not talk to you?”

Percy made eye contact with the star at the top of the small Christmas tree in the corner. 

“Well, um, so it turns out that Hephaestus’ work was causing a lot of noise to her apartment below. During her finals. And Hephaestus…well, I couldn’t…I couldn’t get him to stop for very long.”

“Which wasn’t Percy’s fault,” Tyson interjected hurriedly. “Sally, I tried too, and—”

Sally silenced Tyson with a wave of a hand. 

Percy continued. “So I…I didn’t tell her. I just kept…y’know, trying to help her out. I got her to come and study in Leo’s insulated room, I helped her move her stuff up and down, and she told me that her finals ended up going well, and…and…”

“And you still feel guilty,” Sally said softly. “So you won’t go talk to her. And she, obviously, is not going to come looking for you either.”

Percy swallowed another mouthful of cookie. “And we…haven’t talked since. Our friends keep inviting us to the same things, but we both…we both know. She’s smart, is Annabeth. Really smart.”

“And I’m…dumb. I’m really dumb. Seaweed for brains.”

Sally patted his back. “There’s step one, Percy. Acknowledge that you were wrong. That you hurt her feelings.”

“What’s step two?” Percy whispered softly, as Sally dabbed away at the tears spilling from Percy’s eyes. 

Sally sighed. “You pick yourself up, promise to get better. You have a good Christmas. And then you go around to see her the next day with flowers, and you apologize.”

“Oh,” Percy said faintly. He cleared his throat and accepted Paul’s brandy flask with a nod. 

“That sounds good. Um, thanks Mom.”

Sally smiled. “What’re moms for? Merry Christmas, Percy. There’s your present.”

“It’s a good one,” Percy let his spirits lift a little. “Paul, do you know any good flower places in December?”

Paul laughed. “Oh, I know a few.”

--

DECEMBER 31ST. NEW YORK CITY.

It was New Years’ Eve by the time that Percy finally got his bouquet—Paul’s regular had closed down and Katie had been waiting on some new shipments delayed by a snowstorm—and his plan ready.

To which Jason and Frank had made several additions. 

“She’s too smart,” Jason had pointed out at their first strategy session. “And she’s armed at all times. If she even suspects that this is leading to you trying to apologise, she’ll slip away.”

Percy groaned. “So what can we even do?”

It was Frank who came up with the idea of weaponising the exchange students, a couple of whom were coming back to New York on a winter visit to their uncle who lived somewhere in Brooklyn. 

“The Brits are nuts,” Frank explained, “plus they did Ancient History with me last year. I did their Egyptian module. Really cool stuff. Point is, Annabeth doesn’t know them. They’re from all the way on the other side of campus. No way she’ll connect them to you. Also, they’ve got a real excuse. Which will help with your plan.”

“A real excuse?” Percy echoed. “What does that mean?”

Frank shuddered. “You’ll see. They’ll tell you. Just ask them about the Sphinx in 3-2.”

And that was more or less how Percy first met Carter and Sadie Kane, possibly the weirdest brother-sister combination he’d ever met. 

“Nice to meet you,” Carter drawled, his voice vaguely accented but still mostly New York. “I’ve heard a lot. Frank says you’re a stand-up guy.”

“Hope I live up to that,” Percy shook Carter’s hand. “How’s Olympus U?”

“Well it’s not quite up to par,” Sadie sniffed, her British accent oozing sarcasm. “But well, what can you expect from the Americans?”

“Both places are terrible,” Zia Rashid sighed. “On account of the fact that you and Carter have stunk up both places.”

“Sorry,” Walt Stone said directly to Percy, grimacing. “They’re always like this. You can ignore them.”

Percy shook his head with a grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve been dealing with similar things my whole life.”

“Oi!” Sadie punched Walt in the shoulder. “Stop talking like we’re not right here!”

Walt shrugged. “Well, it never seems to make a difference to you anyway.”

“Yeah, Sadie,” Carter chimed in. “Like Walt said.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Zia rolled her eyes. “Please. Percy was about to tell us about his wonderful plan.”

“Ah. Yes.” Percy cleared his throat. “So, it’s a little something like this…”

--

Piper sat back in her chair and groaned. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Percy looked immensely offended. “It is not.”

“It so is,” Piper retorted. “This is about as subtle as throwing a brick through her window with ‘I’M SORRY’ written on it.”

Percy folded his arms. “The exchange students thought it was good.”

“It was just Sadie who said that, wasn’t it?” Hazel raised an eyebrow. “She was in one of the archaeology mods last semester. Heard all about her; ‘total nightmare but somehow she gets the job done’.” 

“I, well, yes, Sadie was the most excited about the plan,” Percy waved away the concerns, “but Carter, Walt and Zia agreed to help!”

“I’m sure they did,” Hazel said comfortingly. “Frank says they’re nice.”

Piper sighed and folded her arms. “It won’t work. She’ll suspect, you know she will.”

“Unless you help me out,” Percy clasped his hands together. “I’m telling you, Pipes, you can solve this flaw, you and Hazel! She wouldn’t suspect you two of this.”

“Oh, she absolutely would,” Piper retorted. “In fact, I bet she knew when I told her that I was meeting Jason downtown that I was actually coming here to meet you about her!”

Hazel cleared her throat. “Well, Piper, there is one way that will get Annabeth to believe that the Sphinx is legit. And get her to the Egyptology wing without suspicion. Or at least to the staircase in the Ancient Religions block.”

“No!” Piper stuck her nose in the air, affronted. “Hazel, I promised I wouldn’t do it again. Not after last time. You were there, you know what happened!”

“I do know what happened,” Hazel said steadfastly, “but also, you love Annabeth and you think that she is making a mistake if she doesn’t at least give Percy a chance to apologise.”

“Urghhhh.” Piper buried her face in her hands.

Then she looked up at Percy. “Fine. She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be there. On time. I’ll text Sadie the details.”

--

“I can’t believe you roped me into this,” Annabeth muttered. “Hazel chose a terrible time to be busy.”

Piper smiled graciously. “Well, we can’t say no to those begging eyes, can we? It was a Big Date! Hazel’s only had like two in her life!”

“Well, remember,” Annabeth raised a warning finger, “I’m only here because of your own stupidity.”

Piper sighed. “Well, I mean, it wasn’t my fault that it turned out that the Black Metal Society was a group of people who believed in vampirism!”

“It was your fault for going back and agreeing to be secretary!” Annabeth retorted. 

Piper spread her hands helplessly. “They were terrible at administration! And they paid!”

“What happened last time anyway?” Annabeth said suspiciously. “You haven’t been back to the Black Metal Society since September, when I was out of town. And Hazel said that was one of your worst moments yet.”

Piper spluttered in indignation. “Well, there’s no need to say that. I just…they needed extra help with the funding, and Hazel was open to valuing their jewellery.”

“Their cursed jewellery.” Annabeth folded her arms. “We had to go to New Jersey before we found a priest willing to try and get that thing out of our fridge.”

Piper held up her hands. “Okay, okay. Thank you for coming with me.”

“If I didn’t, you’d probably end up dead,” Annabeth muttered. “Or in jail. Or knowing you, dead, and in jail.”

“Thanks for the belief,” Piper deadpanned. “Very helpful.”

They turned the corner around Block D towards the Ancient Religions department. Upstairs was the Egyptology offices, and down in the basement was where the Black Metal Society held their meetings, opposite the Slavic Cultures office.

“Gangway!” whooped a loud, British voice, as a blonde bombshell came hurtling down the stairs, pink highlights flying brightly behind her. She skidded to a halt beside Annabeth, a maniacal grin on her face. 

“Are you a student here?” She asked. 

Annabeth blinked. “Um, yeah.”

“Cool,” The girl grinned, shaking Annabeth’s unresisting hand. “I’m Sadie. On exchange. Could you tell me where the best place is to dispose of a cursed artefact?”

“Well,” Annabeth started, “I mean, the chemistry wing is always a good bet, or—”

Sadie raised a finger. “That’s wonderful. We don’t know where that is, so it would be great if you could guide us.”

“We?” Annabeth barely got the words out before three more students came barrelling down the stairs, balancing between them a rather ratty and defaced Sphinx.

One of them, Zia waved. 

“Hello, Annabeth.”

“Hi, Zia,” Annabeth smiled. “Thanks for the contract help earlier.”

Zia waved it away. “Oh, it’s fine. Sorry to bother you, but this thing really is cursed.” 

Piper flinched away with a hiss, as though the Sphinx was radiating a foul stench. 

“Urghh! Oh, that’s cursed all right,” Piper hunched over. “The tattoo is tingling.”

“Wonderful,” Annabeth said through gritted teeth. “Piper, why don’t we just—”

“You go,” Piper blanched. “Egyptian curses don’t mix well with Slavic vampirism.”

Annabeth wagged a finger in Piper’s face. “Oh, fine. But you’re waiting right here, you understand? You don’t go down without me, even though you want to.”

Piper cast a look down towards the stairs that led to the basement. “Fine,” she muttered. 

So that was how Annabeth found herself running beside four exchange students and a cursed Sphinx, even though it was winter break. This kind of stuff usually saved itself for when school opened up again.

And Sadie was annoyingly cheerful.

“We’ve suspected this one was cursed all semester,” she chirped as they ran. “So when we all felt called back during the holidays, the suspicion was confirmed!”

“Any particular disposal tactic?” Annabeth shook her head. “Not too familiar on Egyptian curses.”

“Running saltwater usually works,” volunteered one of the two guys hefting the Sphinx.  

“Great,” Annabeth muttered. “Okay, we’ll hang a left and down two flights, that’ll get us over to the marine biology labs!”

There was something niggling in the back of Annabeth’s head, some distant alarm. She didn’t know what, but something was up. 

Annabeth did a quick comb over the past day’s events as her legs went on autopilot towards the labs. 

Hazel had baked cupcakes and left to give them to Frank. Piper had gone out on a “date” with Jason that was almost certainly a ploy to get Annabeth thinking about Percy. 

Percy, the marine biology major. 

By the time Annabeth’s brain made the connection, it was already too late. 

Annabeth was already kicking the doors to the marine biology lab open, and there he was, with a tank of saltwater all ready to go. 

Percy Jackson. 

The exchange students heaved the Sphinx into the tank and were out the lab’s back door in one practiced motion. The Sphinx began to sizzle straight away, and Annabeth felt her jaw clench when she saw Sadie drop a wink at Percy before the door closed. 

“Out with it,” Annabeth sighed. “You’ve got two minutes.”

--

Percy felt his faint hopes that Annabeth might be convinced that this was a chance meeting fizzle out. 

“Um, Annabeth…I….”

He stepped forwards, revealing the bouquet of flowers that he’d been badly concealing behind his back. 

The words stuck in his throat at the sight of her. Breathing heavily, sweat sheening lightly on her brow, curly blonde hair messy, her storm-grey eyes narrowed and intense, her cheeks reddened slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Percy managed. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“Yeah, you did, Ugliano,” Annabeth spat. “Good to know.”

Percy stepped closer, holding out the bouquet weakly. 

“I…well, I just didn’t want to ruin this. I wanted you to like me. So bad. From the moment I met you.”

“Why?” Annabeth shook her head. “You didn’t even know me.”

Percy smiled. “Any girl who’s determined enough to hammer down a door with a pair of heels is worth it, I’d think. That drive. I knew I’d want you on my side, no matter what.”

“Why’d you even have to renovate so much in the first place?” Annabeth hissed, although her cheeks were getting redder. 

“My old tank leaked through the floorboards,” Percy looked away, embarrassed. “Nearly lost my accommodations altogether. Mr D insisted I fix it straightaway.”

“You keep fish in your apartment?” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t Camp also have a no-pets rule?”

“Well, the school allowed it,” Percy admitted. “I got a letter from the dean and everything. It’s part of my research. And it wasn’t just fish. It was a coral reef biome. Allowed me to make observations all day long.”

“You’re a terrible dork,” Annabeth muttered. “And a bad liar.”

Percy shuffled closer. “So you can tell then, can’t you? Whether I’m telling the truth?”

“Maybe,” Annabeth stuck her head up high, blinking hard. “Maybe I can.”

“I won’t lie to you again.” Percy said unhesitatingly. “Because Annabeth, I don’t want to lose you again. As a friend, or as anything. I know I hurt you. And I just…let me make it up to you. By being your friend again. Let’s start again, if we can.”

Annabeth sniffled, and Percy reached into his pocket to hand her a Kleenex. 

“Prepared, were you?” Annabeth’s voice was muffled. 

Percy smiled. “Actually, those were for me.”

Annabeth snatched the bouquet from his hands. “Katie’s handiwork?”

“Yeah,” Percy replied quietly. “Annabeth, I…I’ll stop by the New Year’s party at your apartment tonight. And if…if you want, you can let me in. If you don’t…you won’t…you won’t see me again.”

Annabeth blew her nose, and laid the bouquet down lightly on a desk, beside a map of the Sargasso Sea. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

She turned and walked away, and Percy watched the lab doors swing lightly in her wake, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the fizzling remnants of a cursed Egyptian Sphinx. 

--

Annabeth was pleased to hear that Hazel had actually not been on her Big Date, and had arrived just in time to stop Piper from agreeing to be promoted to president of the Black Metal Society. 

That was one disaster averted, at the very least. Two if you counted the Sphinx, which according to Sadie (and confirmed by Zia) was actually cursed. 

The apartment was lit by warm lighting, and everyone came in full fancy dress, as Piper had instructed, clustering around the kitchen and mingling in the living room, the crinkle of paper plates and the clink of glasses winding their way through lively conversations. 

The doorbell rang, and Annabeth’s heart jumped, the way it had everytime the bell had rung today. 

Piper, resplendent in a repurposed wedding dress they’d picked up from a thrift store, whirled away from the door after a quick peek into the peephole. Hazel placed a pair of wineglasses into Annabeth’s hands as she stepped towards the door, as if in a trance. 

Jason opened the door smoothly.

Standing there on the doorstep, his broad shoulders fitted into a lovely black suit with a sea-blue tie, was Percy. 

“Hi,” he said wondrously, as though Annabeth was some angel. Though to be fair, Annabeth knew that she looked good in a long, floor-length grey silk number, and she’d let Piper do some makeup. 

“So,” Percy said carefully, “can I come in?”

She was struck suddenly by how different Percy was from Luke. Luke would've hammered on the door, drunk or high or both, and pleaded with her, using any trick he could to get her to stay. Annabeth knew that if she did say no, right then and there, Percy would be gone. From her life. He was an honest man put into a shitty position, who'd done what he'd done because, ironically enough, he was afraid of messing up with her. 

And Annabeth found herself forgiving him in that moment, even if all she said to him was, “Yeah. Sure.”

If this was a mistake, Annabeth had made far worse. 

Percy accepted the glass, and cleared his throat, reaching out his hand. Annabeth shook it. 

“Percy Jackson,” he said, smiling shyly. “I’d like to be your friend.”

Annabeth couldn’t help herself, she smiled back. Her heart leapt despite her best efforts. No, this wasn't a mistake. Annabeth didn't often believe in holiday magic, but today was making a very damn good case for it. 

“Annabeth Chase. Likewise.”

Chapter Text

MAY 31. NEW YORK CITY. TWO DAYS AFTER THE LAST PAPER AT OLYMPUS UNIVERSITY.

The summer break opened itself up to the students of Olympus U, many of whom promptly disappeared into the vagaries of European holidays and interstate travel. 

Which was how Percy and Annabeth found themselves crammed uncomfortably, shoulder-to-shoulder, in Mr D’s office. He could’ve made his office bigger, or invested in better guest chairs, but Mr D, being Mr D, had simply not bothered. 

Percy winced at the creaking sound of the ageing folding chair he was on, and tried not to swallow as Mr D took another long drink of Diet Coke. 

“Well, Peter, I’m glad to say that you have been granted permission to continue living in Camp for another year.”

“Thanks, Mr D,” Percy said with a forced grin. He’d long since gotten used to Mr D’s constant and egregious inability to remember his name. “I’m glad. But um, what was this all about?”

“Well, Peter,” Mr D sighed, “You may have noticed that you and…Annie Bell are the only two campers who have indicated that you will be remaining at Camp for the whole of summer.”

Percy had noticed that everyone seemed to be lugging out suitcases rather quickly. Hazel and Frank had flown to Canada to visit Frank’s family and collect rocks in Alberta.

Piper and Jason had been invited on an all-expense trip to Los Angeles by Piper’s dad. Reyna and Clarisse were headed to Brazil for a training trip with Brazilian jujitsu instructors. Leo was taking Calypso down the East Coast with his latest madcap invention, a modified yacht with Festus’ head strapped to the bow. 

And Percy?

“Oh, well, you see, my experiments are actually going well and—”

Mr D waved it away, “Yes, yes, whatever, Peter. The point is that seeing as how practically all of my happy little campers will be absent for two weeks starting…tomorrow, I’ve decided to take a holiday.”

Annabeth facepalmed. Percy was still confused, even though based on the resignation in Annabeth’s posture, she had already figured out whatever Mr D was about to announce. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Percy smiled, “Where to, Mr D?”

Mr D sniffed. “I don’t have to tell you, boy. But since you asked so nicely, Greece. I need to visit my father. And the rest of the family. Terrible, all of them. My father wants to see if I’m ‘worthy’ to get my inheritance back.”

Percy tried and failed to hold back his grimace. 

“Ah, but anyway, here you go.” Mr D dropped a keycard and a sticky set of keys into Percy’s lap. 

“Um, what is this?” Percy asked, quizzical. 

Mr D sighed. “Annie Bell, you’re clearly the smart one here. Explain.”

Annabeth leaned her head back, exposing a long length of tanned neck which Percy was not looking at, because they were friends now. Just friends. 

“Mr D is going on vacation,” Annabeth said through gritted teeth, “and he wants us to replace him as provisional landlord, seeing as we’re the only ones in Camp for the next two weeks specifically. I suppose that when people start trickling back in, or in case something terrible happens, Mr D has decided that two weeks is enough for a vacation.”

Mr D patted Annabeth on the shoulder with a satisfied smirk. “Yes, exactly. Very good. The card is for access to this office. Don’t burn down anything.”

And just like that, the two of them were shooed out of Mr D’s office, Percy blinking in shock. 

“Is he allowed to do that?” Percy asked. 

Annabeth shrugged. “Well, he’s doing it. And for all his flaws, he does run a tight ship. He wouldn’t take this risk unless it was justified, somehow.”

“Two weeks,” Percy muttered. “Fourteen days in charge of an entire apartment building. That’s…quite a lot of responsibility.”

“Well, we were planning to spend most of our time here anyway,” Annabeth sighed. “And we are adults, Seaweed Brain. Lock the doors at night, pay for burgers and maintenance men with Mr D’s card, steal his liquor. Two weeks will fly by.”

The way she said it, Percy could believe it. Some small part of him even leapt in anticipation. Two weeks alone with Annabeth. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the universe giving him another shot. 

Yeah. This might not even be a problem. It could be the solution to the issue that had been tugging at his heart for months. 

“Yeah,” Percy smiled, stretching out his hand to shake it with Annabeth’s. “Well, see you tomorrow, partner.”

--

It took exactly ten hours for something to go wrong. 

“I thought you were good at water stuff.” Annabeth growled, wincing as another burst of musty water erupted from behind the bucket which she was jamming against the burst pipe on level four. 

“I’m a marine biologist, not a plumber!” Percy shouted as he reached into a maintenance closet to twist at the rusty valves inside. “This is more Leo’s specialty! Or Tyson’s!”

“You’re so lucky this is the clean water pipe!” Annabeth shouted down the corridor in response as the bucket bucked in her grip, spraying another few litres onto her shoes. If it had been the sewage pipe that burst…well, Annabeth didn’t care that much about her clothes, and someone had to do it, but still. 

In principle, she was not doing it, not for what she was getting in return (Annabeth had successfully wrangled Mr D into not charging Annabeth and Percy heating bills for a month). Maybe if Mr D didn’t charge for the whole semester…

Another gush of water splattering onto her shoes cut off that particular train of thought quickly. 

“Percy!” Annabeth yelled again. “Are you closing the correct valve?”

Percy’s voice was mostly muffled grunting in reply, and Annabeth sighed. It was always going to end up something like this, wasn’t it? 

Annabeth had felt her heart jump a little in her chest when Mr D had first announced that he was planning on leaving her and Percy alone and unsupervised for two weeks. 

It would have been a great opportunity, she figured, to find out if Percy somehow still liked her, despite the fact that she had (rightfully!) shut him out after the whole Ugliano thing. 

Oh, who was she kidding, Annabeth sighed to herself as the water pressure began to drop as a grinding sound began to echo from the other end of the hallway. What Annabeth was really trying to figure out was whether she was ready. 

Percy had been unfairly respectful of her boundaries, and had been a great friend over the past semester. Just a friend. Who went with her for lunch every day. And who she sometimes snuck past the pool to watch compete. 

Anyway. 

“Pressure’s dropping!” Annabeth called out. “I think we got it!”

The grinding sound ceased. 

“Okay, the valve is shut!” Percy appeared out of the cabinet, his hair covered in dust and flecks of dried paint. 

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “Urghh. Let’s clean this up, then you go and take a shower.”

Percy laughed. “Annabeth, you’re literally soaking wet.”

She resisted the urge to glance down and instead pushed the bucket into Percy’s hands. 

“Find a mop. I’ll go call the plumber.”

“Ouch,” Percy put a hand to his chest. “Is that all I am to you? Cheap manual labour?”

“Not cheap, free!” Annabeth ducked past Percy’s sarcastic arm waves and headed for the stairs. “And get to work!”

Mr D had very unhelpfully left them a ledger full of badly labelled phone numbers, mostly disparaging descriptions. But still, those numbers were lifelines for these two weeks, so Annabeth rolled up her sleeves and dried her hands on one of Mr D’s Haiwaiian shirts left haphazardly on a cabinet.

Annabeth flipped past “Unhelpful Demon” (Alecto, the school auditor), “Smelly Pirate” (Polyphemus, the one-eyed pool contractor), “Dearest Dad” (Honestly she had no clue why this number was there), and “Coal Lump” (Hephaestus), to find “Sad Big Hands”. 

She sort of remembered a mournful looking middle-aged man with enormous hands coming around a lot with a toolbox during that short time period when Silena had been testing her beauty concoctions and blocked the toilets on the seventh floor. 

Well, Annabeth decided, the worst he could do was hang up, and punched in the number into the office phone.

“Hundred-Hands Plumbing,” the voice was as mournful as Annabeth would have expected, “this is Briares. That you, Mr D?”

Annabeth cleared her throat. “Hi, Mr Briares, this is Annabeth Chase. I’m filling in for Mr D this week. Sorry for the call, but we have a burst pipe on level 2. When’s the earliest you can come in and have a look?”

“Potable Water number 16, right?” Briares’ tone did not change. “Okay, I’ll stop by in a couple hours.”

“Wow,” Annabeth muttered. “Um, thanks. You work fast, Mr Briares.”

“Hundred-Hands Plumbing,” he replied, “That’s one hundred times faster than any other plumbing. See you soon, Ms Chase.”

He hung up without another word. 

Annabeth put down the phone and let her eyes wander around Mr D’s office. An unfinished chess game. A couple hands of poker. About fifty boxes of Diet Coke. Letters stacked atop the messy pile of Camp pamphlets and unread feedback forms. 

A line of manila caught her eye, and Annabeth cocked her head as she regarded the latest stack of letters that had been delivered that morning.

Mr D had been, surprisingly, kind enough to bring those in from the main letterbox before he’d left in the morning. 

Sorting quickly, Annabeth found two clear standouts from among the standard utilities bills and notices from the university’s front office. 

The first was postmarked to PERSEUS JACKSON. The envelope was some kind of exceptionally thick paper, and it was littered with stamps. It was bulky and hardy, stained but intact. Annabeth counted six countries: Vietnam, Singapore, South Africa, Belgium, Argentina, and the US.

“What the?” Annabeth picked up the letter and turned it around in her hands. It stank faintly of salt and seaweed. 

Her confusion was only compounded by the second letter, which was addressed to ANNABETH CHASE. This envelope, by contrast, was cheap and flimsy, thin paper, almost certainly reused, by the hastily scribbled out IRS logo on the top left corner. 

Just one stamp, a 68 cent stamp with a faded school bus. The name and address was handwritten, and similar to the letter addressed to Percy, the sender had no clue exactly where they lived. 

They had both been marked with Olympus University’s address, and likely had been forwarded to Mr D as a result, along with Olympus U’s standard letters to Mr D. 

Huh. 

“What’s that?” Percy’s voice came from over Annabeth’s shoulder, curious. 

“Letters,” Annabeth turned, her brows furrowing in concentration. “From school, but presumably for—”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Percy had the self-awareness to look sheepish, or as sheepish as one can look when one is a six foot swimmer who is standing shirtless in his landlord’s office. 

“Well, it was really wet,” Percy tried. “Lots of…water.”

“There’s dust in your hair,” Annabeth pointed out. 

Percy frantically dusted at his scalp as Annabeth stepped quickly out of range. 

“I told you to mop up, not get wet,” Annabeth continued, shaking her head. 

“It’s sweat!” Percy protested. 

Annabeth sighed, trying to keep her eyes up and away from Percy’s admittedly sweaty abs. 

“Letters. One for you, one for me.”

Percy took the thick envelope in his hands, frowning as he turned it over. “Wow. This thing’s been around the place, huh?” 

Annabeth looked up from her own envelope, the pitiful thing, to meet a pair of very anxious sea-green eyes. 

“It’ll be fine,” Annabeth assured him. “We’re adults, Percy. We’re even landlords now.”

Percy gave her a look which assured her that even he was not convinced. 

To be fair, she wasn’t. 

“Open on three?” Percy asked.

“Okay,” Annabeth’s voice was small. Boston. She had some memories of Boston, old road trips with her dad. 

All tainted memories. But if this was from the person she thought it was, she had a duty to open it.

“One, two…three.” Percy ripped open the thick flap of the envelope as Annabeth delicately slit open the cheap glue with a fingernail. 

Then there was silence as both of them read their letters. 

Percy’s was far longer, about five sheets of a strange format, with a horizontal line separating the paper into various organised columns, like a log of some kind. 

Annabeth’s was as expected. A quick scribble on the back of a slightly crumpled piece of notepaper. 

HI COUSIN! read the cheery salutation. 

I hope this gets to you before I do, but I’m hitchhiking down, so it probably will. Anyway, I need a little bit of help. Also a place to crash for a couple days in New York. It’s kind of important. I’ll tell you more when I see you. Olympus University, hey? Wow, you’re doing good. Anyway, I’ll be at the front gates around noon on the 24th. Please be there. 

Your cousin, Magnus

Annabeth blew out a short breath. “Wonderful. My hobo cousin will be in town tomorrow. I hope he doesn’t mind soaked floors…Percy?”

She turned, her heart beating quicker. Percy hadn’t said a word in the past three minutes. His hands were clenched tightly around the sheets of paper, crumpling them. His entire body was tensed up.

“Hey,” Annabeth said gently, resting her palm on Percy’s forearm. “What is it?”

Percy swallowed. “It’s…it’s my dad. He’s alive. His ship makes port in an hour. He wants…he wants to see me.”

“Shit,” Annabeth muttered. “Damn. And we still have to deal with the damn rats.”

--

Percy tried to ignore the concerned glances that Annabeth kept shooting his way, but it was hard. Her eyes were so pretty—um, piercing, he meant piercing—and so it was hard to not be aware of her gaze. 

He appreciated the concern, he really did. Percy knew that Annabeth was slowly warming up to her own father again, and she knew how it felt to be abandoned. 

But still, it was a little strange, to have her looking at him like that. It made his heart ache, and considering that he was about to meet his father for the first time in a decade, that was a little more instability than he could handle. 

Especially after, for all those years, he’d thought that his father had died. The vessel he'd been on had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. 

“Did he say how he was getting here?” Annabeth broke the silence, her eyes searching his. 

“No,” Percy pulled the crumpled letter from his pocket. “Just that he would be coming into New York at the cruise terminal.”

They stood just outside the terminal, the hubbub of tourists lugging suitcases and foreign languages mingling with the cries of the occasional seagull. Percy took in another deep breath of sea air. 

There was a murmur rising among the crowd, and Percy tilted his head towards the sea, his eyes scanning.

“Is that…” Even Annabeth looked surprised. “Percy, that’s a submarine.”

“It is,” Percy said faintly. The low-slung silhouette of the submarine, skulking with its conning tower breaching the surface, like a rather large orca, crept up to the docks, slotting easily behind a massive cruise liner.

“You don’t think…” Annabeth fell silent. 

Percy shrugged. “Well, he never told me what kind of ships he sailed on. Just that he sailed.”

Annabeth’s fingers stole into his. 

“Stay calm,” she said, her eyes fixed ahead. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know that,” Percy muttered unconvincingly. 

Still, he found himself leaning towards her, hands intertwined, as several men in dark blue uniforms exited the gates of the terminal. And trailing behind them was a man in a Hawaiian shirt, with a goatee, his features half-shaded by a ballcap emblazoned with the logo of the USS Hawaii . 

Annabeth’s hand tightened in Percy’s as the man turned towards them, his confident stride faltering. 

It was him. Percy remembered that face. Poseidon Thalassa. When he was twelve he’d stopped by and took him to the Empire State Building for a day. At sixteen, he’d shown up just before the whole Titan Incorporated thing had gone down, giving him a pair of binoculars and a sober talk. 

Nothing since then. Nothing since his ship had “disappeared”.

Five years. 

“Hello, Percy,” Poseidon said cautiously, his eyes flicking between Annabeth and Percy.

Percy lifted his chin. “Poseidon. So you didn’t go down with the Triton . Wonderful news. A little belated.”

“Percy,” Poseidon sighed, “Percy, I don’t want to argue—”

“What do you want, then?” Percy interrupted. “If you’re not here to argue.”

“I—” Poseidon broke off and looked to the skies. “Sometimes I wish you were less like me. More patient, like your mother.”

The anger that had stemmed from Poseidon leaving his mother had long faded, but it was crackling and simmering back up in Percy’s stomach.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Annabeth pointed out. She stared down Poseidon’s raised eyebrow without fear.

“Why are you here?”

Poseidon slipped off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Percy, I…I suppose I needed to talk to you. About the truth. Because, believe it or not, I might be around more. And I want to spend time with my son.”

Percy felt as though a vice was squeezing at his heart. “Why now?”

“Perhaps we should find a place to sit,” Poseidon gestured towards the line of taxis crowding the terminal lobby. “I know a good restaurant on 5th.”

He was always doing that, Percy thought through clenched teeth. Waving around money like it would help solve being around for cumulatively one month in twenty-one years of life.

“I don’t want—” Percy began heatedly, only to feel Annabeth’s fingers trail calmingly down his back. 

“We accept,” Annabeth said levelly. “Because this is a long story, isn’t it?”

Poseidon smiled sadly. “Perceptive. Yes.”

--

It turned out that the restaurant that Poseidon had in mind was a particularly expensive Italian restaurant that was supposedly frequented by celebrities. 

What Annabeth noticed, however, were the scorch marks at the borders of the ceiling, the unusually large sprinkler system, and the rather numerous fire extinguishers bolted to the walls. 

It was as good as spray-painting LEO VALDEZ WUZ HERE on the walls, really. 

But this was still one of the best restaurants in the city, and the staff had bounced back quickly from Leo accidentally burning down their restaurant rather quickly, all things considered. 

“This place looks a little…different,” Poseidon remarked. 

Percy shrugged. “Five years’ll do that for you.”

If that comment fazed Poseidon, he didn’t let it show. 

“Well, fire codes have certainly gotten stricter,” Poseidon turned to Annabeth with a faint smile. “Haven’t they, Miss Chase?”

Annabeth laughed a little. “Probably not. Our friend Leo accidentally burned this place down a few months ago.”

“Ah,” Poseidon shook his head. “Sounds like a good friend of yours.”

“He is,” Percy’s facade was starting to crack, just a little. “Very handy with computers. Not to mention deadly with any fire source.”

Poseidon’s face took on a strange look.

“Leo…this wouldn’t be a Leo Valdez, would it?”

Percy and Annabeth exchanged surprised looks. “Well, yes. How do you…”

Their first course arrived, and Poseidon nodded his thanks to the waiter. “Well, this is as good of a segue as I could possibly get, I suppose. Mr Valdez is well-known in my community. I…I work for the government. I’m the CIA attache to the US Navy’s submarines. For the past five years I’ve been on assignment across the world.”

Poseidon paused to take a bite of his beef wellington.

“First class meal, but submarine chefs are miracle workers of a different breed. And that is where I spent most of my life. I fell in love with Sally when I was injured and was landbound. She was a nurse, you see. But I knew…I knew that I couldn’t quit. I was too far in. I also knew this could never work. A father who wasn’t around? A husband like that? Who would want one?”

Percy stared at Poseidon, his eyes set with disbelief. 

“You think I’d rather not have a father?” Percy’s voice was quiet. 

Annabeth swallowed. “Percy, sometimes…well, for years, really, I wished I just didn’t have one.”

His eyes softened immediately, and Percy turned to her, reaching out hesitantly with one hand. “Annabeth, I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Annabeth instinctively clasped Percy’s hand in hers. “But…I’m not saying that he was right to leave you, but…Percy, you and your father are more alike than you know.”

Annabeth thought about Percy, about the way he had left her alone, preferring to let her decide, not wanting to hurt her. 

“Percy,” Poseidon set his knife and fork down. “I regret it. But I’d hoped, just hoped, that maybe you could find it in you to forgive me. And…and I admit my love for the sea, for the chase, I let it take me away from your mother. From settling down. And I won’t say that I can be a real father now.”

“Good,” Percy said heatedly, “because you aren’t.”

Annabeth felt her heart ache, and squeezed Percy’s hand. “Percy…”

He looked over at her, and the gratefulness in his eyes nearly bowled her off her chair. 

And Percy turned back to Poseidon with a sigh. “I…fine. Keep talking.”

Poseidon gave Annabeth a thankful nod. “Percy, I…I have a job coming up. Research ship heading up towards the Arctic Circle. It-well, we have extra places. I could bring you out there. If you want.”

Percy looked startled, the anger disappearing suddenly. “You…how did you know?”

Poseidon smiled wanly. “You told me. Before I left.”

“I was sixteen!” Percy protested. “I hadn’t even made it to college yet! I mentioned Alaska, like, once!”

“Once was enough,” Poseidon’s voice was distant. “Percy, I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. About what to say. And I’m sure I’ve said all the wrong things. But please. Think about it. And ask away. Anything. Anything at all.”

Annabeth felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. 

A text from Briares. No, not a text. Just an uncaptioned image of the locked door of the Camp Apartments. In the glass, a vague reflection of Briares, looking immensely sad. 

“Shit,” Annabeth muttered. She looked over at Percy, who reluctantly let go of her hand. 

“I’ll be fine,” Percy smiled, some of the old charm back in his eye. “Go. We do need the water working before your cousin shows up.”

Annabeth didn’t know what drove her to do it, but impulsively, she leaned in and kissed Percy on the cheek. 

“Okay.” Annabeth nodded to Poseidon, and hurriedly left, the blush building in her cheeks. She almost didn’t catch Poseidon’s next remark as she stepped away.

“Percy, please listen to me. Don’t let her go. Ever. And…trust me on this one.”

“Yeah,” she heard Percy murmur, “Okay.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but Annabeth kept her eyes forwards. 

As the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. Percy had done it. Made peace with his dad, who hadn't even been contactable for five years. She didn't have an excuse now. Plus, it was summer. Bobby and Matty would take some wrangling. 

Annabeth dialled before she could think better of it. 

It rang, and rang again. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dad." Annabeth swallowed. "I uh, I was thinking of coming back...over the summer..."

Chapter Text

Percy was still stunned when he woke up the next day. Had all of that really happened in one day? 

It was hard to believe that two days ago, he had been waking up wondering if he was ever going to do anything productive this summer. 

And in the 48 hours since, he had been promoted to co-landlord, had to help disable the water system, dealt with a rat infestation, and lost several hundred games of rock-paper-scissors to Briares when they were waiting for the water pressure to rise. 

Oh, and he had met his estranged father and found out that in addition to being a wanderlusting dickbag, he was also an annoyingly noble risk-taking public servant, who was supposedly trying to be back in his life. 

It was frustrating, how much Percy found himself liking his father, seeing pieces of himself in Poseidon, the bold, impulsive streak, the sardonic edge, the repressed emotion, ready to explode, the deep love and the fear of it being taken away from him. 

Percy blinked. Whoa, that was a lot for early in the morning. 

Then he remembered a couple more things. 

Annabeth kissing his cheek last night. Poseidon’s knowing glances. Oh, and Annabeth’s cousin was due in town today. And the health inspector had sent them a letter.

Percy sat up suddenly. Huh. The health inspector. He’d picked that up from the letterbox last night, on his way back from the late dinner. 

Annabeth had already fallen asleep on the couch, Netflix autoplaying an episode of Amazing Interiors . 

They had had a conversation (just a little awkward) about moving in together for the two weeks, just to simplify things, and especially after Briares had to reroute most of the clean water to Percy’s aquariums, resulting in a lack of showerability.

Annabeth had huffily argued that it would be more efficient to room together, and Percy had reluctantly agreed, packing a small bag and shifting downstairs into Annabeth’s living room.

Where he was…still. 

Percy looked around. The apartment seemed empty. He scrabbled around quickly for his phone, and a fluttering caught his attention from his forehead. Percy peeled the Post-It from his forehead.

“Very funny,” Percy muttered. 

In Annabeth’s meticulous script, it read: Briares says you need to check the seals on the 2nd floor. I’m heading over to meet my cousin. DON’T destroy the building while I’m gone. Also if you want Piper says you can borrow a mask for your beauty sleep. 

Percy stood up, stretching out with a sigh before changing into a pair of sweatpants and heading out the front door. 

It was 11 in the morning, and Percy took a quick look around the Camp, taking quick note of the water damage on the second floor, the flickering light on the fifth floor (Mr D had left a list of complaints which he had been consistently ignoring), and the broken lock on the seventh.

Not to mention untangling the long and complex tangle of agreements and contracts which were Mr D’s power bills. 

But Annabeth had mainly been in charge of that, and Percy had been more than happy to leave that to her while he stepped outside to remove the pigeon nest from the eighth floor air-conditioning unit.

Percy was propped up on a ladder replacing a battery on the lobby’s smoke detector when he heard a pair of voices. 

“This is such a wonderful stink you have,” said a voice with a thick Boston accent. “Or maybe that’s because your sweaty boyfriend is freshening up the ceiling.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Annabeth sighed, and maybe Percy was imagining it, but it sounded fond. 

Percy turned around, and standing below him with a smirk was a tall young man with Annabeth’s blonde hair and grey eyes, in a ratty, oversized jacket. 

“Butler, then?” The young man who was almost certainly Magnus Chase raised an eyebrow. “Certainly looks a little unkempt for that. And you’re a little young to be a landlady, not that I doubt you could do it.”

“Percy,” Annabeth had her face in one hand. “This is Magnus. Magnus, this is my regular friend, Percy.”

Magnus scoffed. “Sure, cousin. ‘Regular’ friend.”

Percy laughed. “Hey, I like this kid.”

“Of course you do,” Annabeth threw up her hands. “Sure, gang up on me, you ruffians.”

“Why are you up a ladder?” Magnus asked. “Is it because you live in Manhattan? Skyscrapers got into your brain?”

Percy screwed the cover of the smoke detector back on, and slid down the ladder. 

“Well, you could say that,” Percy shrugged. “Or you could say that I’m a landlord now. Doing…landlord things.”

Annabeth scoffed. “Really, Seaweed Brain? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Ooh, annoying nickname!” Magnus said, rubbing his hands together. “What do you call her, Percy? Annie the Builder? Trigonome-chase?”

“No need to overcomplicate, Magnus,” Percy patted Magnus’ shoulder. “I call her Wise Girl.”

Magnus nodded solemnly. “I see. Annabeth was always wise when she visited. Like that time she decided to blow up Uncle Randolph’s chimney.”

“And the year after that you threw up on his fifteenth century Norwegian textbooks,” Annabeth shot back. “Anyway, they cancelled Chase family reunions after that year.”

Magnus crossed his arms. “Well, you ran away. My mom would’ve put up with you. It was Uncle Randolph who decided to be an asshole.”

Annabeth rubbed her eyes. “Yes, yes. And then last year…tell Percy what you did?”

Magnus gave Percy a bright smile. “I died.”

Percy blinked. “You…what?”

“He fell into the Charles River and drowned,” Annabeth sighed. “I went with Malcolm and my dad to Boston when Uncle Randolph called.”

“Last year?” Percy blinked. “Was this before or after we met?”

Annabeth gave Percy an embarrassed smile. “It was um…just after Christmas.”

Ah. Percy smiled ruefully. That period. 

“But I lived,” Magnus said offhandedly. “There was this water-skier, Sam, very handy with an AED. I was dead for only about a minute. Gave me a whole new view on life. Met lots of new friends in the hospital. Anyway, cousin Annie forgot to leave her number, plus I don’t have a phone. So I snail-mailed you guys. Thanks for putting me up in this dump.”

“Hey!” Percy scowled. “It might be a dump, but it’s our dump. And you’re welcome, by the way. What are you doing in New York, anyway?”

Magnus bounced up and down on his toes, suddenly nervous. “Well…well, well, now that’s the million dollar question, hey? Mostly it’s because of Jack.”

“Who’s Jack?” Percy was used to people who were off the rocker, mainly because getting into Olympus University guaranteed at least some level of mental or emotional issues, but Magnus was definitely a little off-phase. 

Magnus gave a loud taxicab whistle, and a streak of matted white fur came flying from around the corner of the street and jumped straight up into Percy’s arms.

“Whoa, whoa!” Percy stumbled, managing to land heavily on his butt, as he found his lap fully occupied by a massive husky, panting into his face. 

“This is Jack,” Magnus said, belatedly. “I think he belonged to my father. Anyway, I entered myself into the Hudson River Swim tomorrow. I was hoping to use your pool to, y’know, warm up, get myself into the rhythm.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “After drowning, you want to swim 10 miles in the Hudson River?”

“Why did you enter the Hudson River Swim?” Annabeth prompted. 

Magnus knelt down and fingered Jack’s collar. “Well, on Jack’s collar here is a five-year streak medal for the Hudson River Swim. So, um, I’m kind of hoping that I might meet my dad there. And, y’know, impress him.”

Percy whistled. “Well. Father issues, huh, Magnus? Welcome to the club. And by the way, I did the Swim two years ago. I can give you some tips.”

Magnus grinned. “Awesome. And I can give you some tips about how to piss off Annie, the Chase way.”

Annabeth sighed.

--

“Are you sure this was the best idea?” Annabeth was trying to keep a leash on her self-control. Magnus and Percy had got on like a house on fire, with no signs of a fire brigade approaching any time soon.

Jack nudged at Annabeth’s hand, and she sighed and gave in to the urge to pet him. This was really the only part of Magnus’ visit which she liked. Her dad had always had dogs, working part-time as a trainer for a couple years before he’d gotten his promotion at the university. 

The dog-training tips had been useful in one of her earlier misadventures involving three vicious black guard dogs, Annabeth thought absentmindedly. 

“Probably not,” Percy muttered to Annabeth, although he gave Magnus a big smile and a thumbs-up, “but hey, this is probably the best way for him to get back into it.”

Magnus looked rattled for the first time since he’d arrived in New York, standing 10 metres above the pool at Olympus U. 

“Maybe I should scrap this idea!” Magnus shouted down. “No shame in starting small, right?”

Percy crossed his arms and shook his head. “Hey, Magnus, you’re up there. Now, remember what we practised! Arms forwards, head down!”

Annabeth sighed. “Percy, you know that the last time he dived from that height, he was falling with a chunk of asphalt lodged into his stomach? And that he actually died?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, quietly, “and do you remember what happened ten minutes ago?”

Annabeth scowled. It turned out that Magnus had managed to retain absolutely no trauma from his death except for an instinctive and adamant fear of bodies of cold water, something which made the Hudson River Swim somewhat…challenging. 

“So this is like…exposure therapy, huh?” Annabeth shook her head again. “I don’t like it.”

Percy set his jaw. “He wants to impress his dad. I know that feeling. So do you. If I can help him, I will.”

“We don’t even know if his dad will be there!” Annabeth hissed. “So a Swedish man who did the River Swim lost his dog in Boston. There is a massive leap in logic from that to (a) the Swedish man is Magnus’ dad, and (b) the Swedish man has come to do the Swim again!”

“Count of five, Magnus, count of five!” Percy shouted, pointedly ignoring Annabeth. 

Annabeth knelt to run both hands through Jack’s coat, who rumbled in appreciation.

“You’re the smartest out of these boys,” Annabeth muttered to Jack, who watched with intelligent golden eyes. “And you know it.”

Jack’s collar was a weatherbeaten strip of what was once fine leather, and it looked older than Jack did. The name tag, a silver circle with ‘JACK’ inscribed on one side and a stylised sword on the other, looked much newer. It also told the reader to call a Swedish phone number and return to a ‘Frey’.

As Jack leaned into Annabeth’s touch, something caught her eye. There was a faded name written along the bottom of the collar: ‘ Sumarbrander ’.

The handwriting was awfully familiar. It looked quite a bit like her father’s, in fact. 

Annabeth glanced up. Percy was unsuccessfully attempting to cajole Magnus to jump. 

She sighed and rose to her feet. 

“Magnus!” Annabeth yelled. “Bobby says you still lost that last game of Monopoly!”

“I never!” Magnus yelled back, marching up to the edge of the diving board. “You helped him add that hotel on Pacific Avenue!”

“No proof!” Annabeth returned fire. 

“Now!” Percy shouted. 

Magnus’ eyes widened and he turned just in time for Coach Hedge to appear on the diving board. 

“Only one way off, cupcake!” Hedge wielded his baseball bat. 

“Ah, damn.” Magnus wheeled around to face Annabeth and Percy.

“But did you?” Magnus crossed his arms. “Huh, Annie?”

“Jump, or you’ll never know,” Annabeth smiled.

“I hate cousins,” Magnus sighed, and in one smooth motion, he dove, letting out an ungraceful squawk before losing his form and splashing wildly into the pool.

Percy was in there in a flash, and Magnus calmed down, breathing hard.

“Okay,” Magnus panted. “Okay, that was necessary.”

“And for the record, I didn’t help Bobby,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “You accidentally pushed a hotel onto Pacific Avenue when you were trying not to puke.”

--

“How did you lose him?” Annabeth was about to tear her hair apart, Percy could tell. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite have a good answer to that question.

Percy shrugged helplessly. “I…he was just here! I looked away for like five seconds!”

Annabeth groaned in frustration. “Great. Three days into being landlords and we’ve already managed to lose a child. ”

“We didn’t lose him!” Percy protested. “Magnus wandered away! He’s sixteen!”

“Sixteen is still legally a child,” Annabeth snapped. “And we are supposed to be responsible for him. I’m not telling my dad that Magnus asked to come to Macy’s with us and we lost him! He won’t even let me take Bobby to the ice cream shop if he hears about this!”

“Wait, you’re heading back to San Francisco?” Percy blinked. 

Annabeth paused. “Well…yeah. When Mr D is back. I’m to escort Magnus safely there so we can have a Chase family reunion.”

Percy felt a twinge in his chest. He couldn’t decide whether it was jealousy, disappointment, happiness, or all three. 

“Oh. Um…when did that…happen?”

Annabeth bit her lip. “Well, when we met Poseidon…it reminded me that I should…try and make my family work too. If your stupid father could try, then I could damn well succeed.”

“Oh,” Percy repeated, dumbly. The feeling in his chest was now mostly a fond warmth which he couldn’t quite describe. 

“Anyway, we’re getting distracted!” Annabeth looked away hastily, a blush building on her cheeks. It was cute. 

Percy shook his head. “Right, right, yeah. Um, this place has…how many floors?”

“Eight,” Annabeth narrowed her eyes, the grey pupils flicking up and down as numbers ran in her head. “We split up. You scan this floor, go up. I go down. Call me. Keep a line open and report.”

It never ceased to astound him how quickly and effectively she planned. Honestly? It was kinda hot. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Percy shot her a cheesy grin and a salute as he bounded towards the men’s section, ignoring the disappointed eyeroll as Annabeth disappeared down the escalator. 

“Sorry, can we help you?” A smiling young woman popped up beside Percy, looking perky with her brunette hair tied back, dressed in a Macy’s uniform.

Percy scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah, um, sorry, have you seen a kid, about sixteen, skinny, blonde, running around?”

The woman frowned. “Ooh. Um. I think so. He came skulking past the perfume section just now.”

“Thank you,” Percy smiled.

The woman smiled back. “Oh, um, well, today’s, um, a slow day. And honestly, my supervisor isn’t here today. So, um, I could…help you? I know all the hiding spots in this building.”

“Cool,” Percy shot her a thumbs-up. “That would be really, really, helpful, actually.”

--

Annabeth was trying to search for Magnus, honest! It wasn’t her fault that the moment she’d reached the next floor up, she’d peered back down, hoping to see Percy accidentally run into a mannequin again. 

And of course, he was flirting with the part-time perfume salesperson. 

Which was…fine. Totally fine. It wasn’t like she was his girlfriend, after all. He was fully allowed to flirt with pretty girls. Even if she looked like a bird-brained brunette. 

Annabeth tore her eyes away. Magnus. Find that annoying little hobo, and use him to distract Percy. 

For whatever reason, the two of them got along like a house on fire which had then been hit by a hurricane and flung into the sea. 

A flash of blonde hair caught Annabeth’s eye. “Magnus?” 

There was a rattle of beads, and Annabeth stepped backwards, flinching instinctively. 

“Can I help you?” asked a towering woman with snow-blonde hair and ice chips for eyes, with a vaguely Scandinavian accent.

Wow, Annabeth thought. This was probably the first lady she’d ever met who could probably knock out Clarisse with a single hit.

“Sorry,” Annabeth gave her a polite smile. “I uh, thought you were my cousin. Have you seen him, by the way? Skinny kid, long blonde hair, looks like he’s probably about to cause trouble?”

A frown deepened on the woman’s face. “Magnus, you said. Magnus Chase?”

Annabeth blinked. “Huh. Um, yes. Have you seen him?”

The woman sighed. “No. But I think I know why he is here.”

“Why?” Annabeth couldn’t help but ask. “What has my idiot cousin got himself into now?”

“He is probably attempting to crash our Valkyrie outing,” The woman said decisively. “It was bad enough when we had to drag him out of the river. Now he has followed us to New York.”

Annabeth shook her head. “The…river?”

The woman shot her an irritated look. “Yes. My colleague had to resuscitate him. Magnus died. Unfortunately it did not take. We are competitive water-skiers. It was disruptive of him to nearly land on us.”

“Disruptive?” Annabeth echoed, still unsure what was going on.

The woman nodded. “Very much so. It was not his fault, but then afterwards he insisted that he should be our friends. That part was more annoying.”

“Oh. Okay. So, have you seen him? I’m just…I’m taking care of him over the week. Oh, um, Annabeth. Annabeth Chase.” Annabeth stuck her hand out, already stiff-armed in anticipation.

The woman did not disappoint, and promptly crushed Annabeth’s fingers in a devastating handshake.

“Gunilla Thorsdottir,” Gunilla gave Annabeth a critical look. “I see you inherited the brains in the Chase family. Follow me, Magnus is probably annoying Samirah upstairs.”

--

“No,” Sam sighed, “No, Magnus, we don’t know whether your dad will be there tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Magnus frowned. “I was going to ask you if you were gonna wear sunglasses or not at the opening. I always wondered.”

Sam gave Magnus a look of pure disbelief, and Magnus had to admit, that had been one of his weaker one-liners. 

“Magnus…please. I know you think that this is going to help you impress your dad, but this is not gonna go well.”

Magnus sighed. “Sam, I have to. Plus Jack is really excited about it.”

“Jack is excited about anything that involves meat or a ball, or both.” Sam flicked through a series of sundresses disinterestedly. 

“Magnus, how are you even in New York? Last I heard, you, Blitz, and Hearth could only afford one Greyhound between the three of you.”

“I’m crashing at my cousin’s dorm,” Magnus said cheerfully, “She’s pretty cool, actually. You’d like her. Her boyfriend’s giving me tips about how to do the River Swim.”

Sam shook her head, her lips twitching. “Wonderful. More Chase psychopaths. Magnus, I appreciate that you came to look for me for advice, but my advice is don’t do it. You’re skinny, malnourished, and trying to prove a point to someone who probably doesn’t care, and who might not even be there.”

Magnus ignored the sting of the comment. “Come on, Sam. Please. Just get my name onto the list. I know the Valkyries can swing it.”

“Magnus Chase!”

Magnus winced. Annabeth had mastered the whipcrack of the instructor’s scolding ever since Magnus had first tripped and embarrassed himself in front of her. Which was a long time ago. 

“Annabeth!” Magnus plastered an innocent look on her face. “Oh, sorry. I just bumped into my friend Sam and…”

“Two floors up?” Annabeth looked unimpressed. “Your other friend Gunilla says you’re a pest. Not that I’m surprised.”

“Where’s Percy?” Magnus tried. 

Surprisingly, it worked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and…was that genuine anger or repressed sexual tension? It was hard to tell sometimes. Probably the latter, though. 

“Downstairs, looking for you.” Annabeth’s voice was clipped. “Stop bothering your friends, and let’s go. I gave Gunilla my number, so we can stay in contact.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful to watch Magnus get scolded,” Sam gave Annabeth a wide smile and a handshake. “Sam.”

“Annabeth,” Annabeth returned the smile. “Sorry. He’s always been like this.”

“Well, coming back from the dead didn’t change anything, I see,” Sam shook her head. “Magnus…I’ll do what I can.”

Magnus shot Sam a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sam. Really. I need this to work out.”

“Magnus!” Percy appeared at the top of the escalator, accompanied by a brunette saleswoman who Magnus had briefly checked out earlier. 

Ooh. Magnus had a sudden realisation. No wonder Annabeth was a little…on edge. 

“Afternoon, Percy,” Magnus grinned. “You’re a terrible babysitter. Should’ve expected that from a New Yorker.”

“And you’re a terrible kid,” Percy shot back, “Must be all that Boston in you. Can’t understand a word you say.”

“It’s nice that your boyfriend hates me,” Magnus said conversationally.

Sam patted Annabeth on the shoulder. “That’s a good sign. If they really got along it would probably be a bad omen.”

The look on the brunette saleswoman’s face was dramatic. Partly because of the “boyfriend” remark, but also because Annabeth was attempting to melt her face with her eyes. 

“I, um, looks like my job is done,” She said awkwardly before sidling off.

“Bye!” Percy waved to her.

Annabeth grabbed Magnus’ hand, and then Percy’s and dragged the two of them forcefully towards the elevator.

“Nice meeting you girls!” Annabeth called over her shoulder.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Magnus complained. “And thanks again, Sam!”

The elevator doors closed just as Sam facepalmed.

--

Percy clapped as Gunilla, Sam, and five other girls on water-skis zoomed past. “Whoa!”

The Hudson River was looking slightly less dirty today, which was great for Magnus, and the fifty other people who were heading this way for the River Swim. Jack strained against the tight grasp that Percy had on the collar, his eyes tracking the water-skis with a manic intensity.

“Easy, boy,” Percy ruffled Jack’s ears. “Magnus’ll do just fine. Here, have a treat.”

Jack snapped up the treat from Percy’s palm, and turned straight back to the river, whimpering lightly. 

“Stop feeding Jack treats,” Annabeth’s voice was nervous. “You’ll make him hyper. Remember that we’ll be standing here for at least another twenty minutes.”

“Nah,” Percy grinned. “Magnus told me he was gunning for my record. That means he should be here any second.”

“And you think he’ll beat your record?” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. Then, as Percy opened his mouth triumphantly, Annabeth held up a finger. 

“Ah, never mind,” Annabeth twirled her hair thoughtfully around her finger. “You’re mentioning it now because it’s already passed. Very funny, Percy.”

Percy closed his mouth, and simply looked at Annabeth, his lips curling fondly. 

“What?” Annabeth muttered, blushing cutely. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Percy asked automatically. She felt it. Surely she did. And so did he. I mean, come on, Percy thought. It was absolutely killing him to wait, but he had to. It was him who had messed this all up, after all. 

“Like…you still don’t think you deserve me,” Annabeth muttered, avoiding Percy’s eyes. “You look at me like I’m a constellation; unreachable.”

“There’s that mind I remember,” Percy just let the words slip out. “And for the record, you are unreachable. You’re…well, I can’t describe it.”

“I’m not perfect, Percy,” Annabeth shook her head, smiling wanly. “Don’t count on me to be your perfect girl.”

Percy snorted. “Annabeth, you know that I know that you’re far from perfect. You’re overly obsessed with details, you make coffee without sugar or milk, you get blinded by your plans, and blue isn’t your favourite colour.”

A light cheer rose from the other spectators as the first swimmers emerged from around the curve of the river and headed to the bridge, where two boats hung a long banner between them marking the endpoint. 

Neither of them even noticed it. 

“And I know that I’m too unserious, that I joke about too many things, most of them not even funny, and—”

“And you drool when you sleep,” Annabeth blinked, her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes shone with tears. “Like an idiot.”

Percy couldn’t help it, he smiled. “Yeah.”

“Can we please stop…dancing around what we feel?” Percy opened his hands. “I…I don’t know, maybe it’s just the ADHD part of me, but I feel like I can’t wait any longer. I have to tell you. I—”

The crowd reached a crescendo as the top two swimmers bore down on the finishing line, and one of the boat’s speakers blared out at full volume. 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNER OF THE 2024 HUDSON RIVER STAGE 7 SWIM…MAGNUS CHASE!”

Percy couldn’t just ignore that. They turned simultaneously to watch Magnus whoop loudly, treading water in the river. There was loud barking as—

“Oh, shit!”

The leash leapt straight out of Percy’s grip, Percy lunging for the rapidly unspooling leash desperately. He missed it by a second as Jack achieved subsonic speeds usually reserved for aircraft and leapt straight into the river. 

Jack made a beeline straight past Magnus, and scrambled desperately onto one of the boats, his tail wagging like a helicopter. 

Percy placed his hands on his hips, sighing. Behind him, Annabeth stifled a laugh. Well, there went that moment. 

The Valkyries swept back across, this time attached to parasails, and Sam plucked Magnus from the water with ease, manipulating her parachute to lightly drop Magnus into the boat alongside Jack, before dropping back down onto her waterskis to shoot off down the River. 

Jack was barking excitedly, dancing around the feet of a tall, older, blonde man. 

“No way,” Annabeth said. “Do you think…”

Percy watched the way the man stiffened when Magnus turned to him. They were too far away to hear anything that was being said, but Percy could see the man’s face light up with joy, and he knew. 

“Come on,” Percy nudged Annabeth’s shoulder. “Let’s give Magnus some alone time. He knows how to find us.”

“Okay,” Annabeth sighed. “I suppose that this was inevitable that father-related trauma would be solved in a trip involving the two of us helping him out.”

“Quite a team we make, huh?” Percy quipped. Annabeth rolled her eyes, but Percy’s heart leapt in his chest. 

She took his hand. 

“Let’s go, then.”

--

Annabeth was still finding dog hair in the apartment, and it had already been eight days (and one fumigation) since Magnus and Jack had left. Frey Valarson had turned out to be a decent, if naive, former competitive swimmer, and more than willing to take Magnus under his wing.

Annabeth had, of course, cornered Frey and threatened him just to make sure that he wasn’t a fraud, but Frey had just laughed and hugged her while she was still holding the knife. 

Scandinavians were weird. 

But that had meant that the rest of the past week or so had been spent alone with Percy, except for when they had to send for pest control because no one had noticed Ella slowly growing the rat population within the building to a nearly uncontrollable level. 

And then there had been the Pigeon Incidents. 

Annabeth had banned Percy from mentioning it to anyone, mainly because he always kept framing it like it was Annabeth who had started it (she hadn’t, for the record, that grey bitch was asking for it).

The thing which Annabeth honestly couldn’t figure out was how exactly they’d found the perfect rhythm which they were in now. 

Percy woke up to head to the pool just as Annabeth would be coming back from the gym, and he’d come out of the shower just in time for Annabeth to have breakfast ready. 

She’d head down to Dionysus’ office to check the inbox and deal with the bills, while Percy did the rounds and checked in on his aquariums upstairs, and then they’d head out for lunch. 

Percy had quite a selection of surprisingly tasty seaside vendors, and Annabeth returned the favour with the fancy restaurants Piper occasionally dragged them to on Dionysus’ dime (Percy had found a debit card Dionysus had left behind labelled “compensation”). 

And then they’d head back up to Annabeth’s apartment, throw on a movie, or a TV show, or argue about where to go before dinner.

Annabeth won most of the time, but she usually relented. They’d visited three aquariums around Manhattan, as well as the Centre for Architecture, the Guggenheim, and the Skyscraper Museum. 

She never knew coral structures could be so endlessly entertaining. Annabeth was already starting doodles about coral-inspired facades. 

Then after that was dinner, a quick check back at the office, then they’d clean up after themselves, which was where Annabeth had swept up yet another clump of white fluff.

Annabeth absentmindedly poured two cups of lemonade when the obsessive need for cleanliness finally abated. 

“Thanks,” Percy murmured, as he stepped away from the washing machine. He picked up a glass and took a long drink. “It’s been hot out today, huh?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, blinking. “It has.”

It was the first time that she’d sort of realised that somehow, she was entirely content. Everything had been mostly quiet, and she hadn’t really done anything productive, but still. 

She felt fine. More than fine. Relaxed. And still they hadn’t really done anything more than hold hands or fall asleep on the couch with the next episode of Community autoplaying.

Annabeth had to think about it. Was this how it was supposed to feel?

“Percy,” Annabeth started, uncertain, “What-what happens now? With this? What happens when everyone comes back?”

Percy shrugged. “Well, I was hoping nothing. Annabeth, I…this has probably been the best couple weeks I’ve ever had. Doing landlord stuff in an empty building has never been more rewarding.”

Annabeth sighed. “I’m heading to San Francisco next week to see my dad, Percy.”

“And I might be flying to Alaska to join my dad,” Percy retorted. “Annabeth, I’m not going to ask you to stay because I know what that means. Because you know what heading to Alaska would mean for me.”

“I know,” Annabeth sipped her lemonade. 

Percy shuffled closer, his shoulder pressing up against hers. 

“Annabeth…I’m just going to say it, okay? Don’t freak out.”

Annabeth leaned in instinctively. “You don’t have to.”

She could feel the muscles flexing uncertainly in Percy’s neck and shoulders. 

“Annabeth, I think I love you.” Percy let out a long, long breath. “There. I don’t know how this is gonna work, but I think it will. We’ve both got shit to figure out, and…and I think we shouldn’t put anything into stone until it’s done, but…yeah. Yeah. Just…in case you didn’t know. I love you.”

Annabeth closed her eyes and let the words sink in. Thought about Percy. The messy hair, the oh-shit smile, the fish facts, the kindness, the ironclad loyalty. 

“Percy?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Good.”

“Good.”

--

Piper hauled her suitcase over the threshold of the Camp, her mouth already running. “Hazel, I have got to tell you about this crazy thing that happened over at Glastonbury! Me and Jason bumped into—”

She frowned. Hazel was leaning out of Mr D’s office, waving. 

“Why are you in Mr D’s office?” Piper stepped forwards, half expecting to hear the unmistakable hiss-pop of a can of Diet Coke emerge from the shadows like a Five Nights at Freddy’s jumpscare. 

Fortunately, no jumpscare came, except that of a stressed Frank sitting behind Mr D’s desk, typing slowly. 

“Well, remember how Annabeth told us that Mr D left her in charge and went on vacation?” Hazel sighed. 

“No,” Piper’s jaw dropped. “Again?”

Hazel shrugged. “He said it was a two-day trip to show his dad the Empire State Building. Besides, I suppose the school term only starts after the weekend. We can cut him a little slack. Terminus said this is Mr D’s first vacation in a decade.”

“Oh, I suppose,” Piper ran a hand through her hair. “How are you doing, Frank?”

“Not fine,” Frank sounded stressed, “But it’s good to see you back, Piper. Where’s Jason?”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Having one last ‘man talk’ with my dad outside. Which reminds me, Hazel…is it true?”

Hazel, the sweet, innocent angel that she was, couldn’t stop the big grin from erupting onto her face. 

“Yep.”

Piper squealed. “Oh, yes!”

A huge weight drifted off her shoulders. She’d been worried about Annabeth having to spend the summer with Percy alone, worried that they’d miscalculated and Annabeth would refuse to admit that she and Percy were meant to be and stretch herself to much that she’d snap.

“Well, job well done.” Piper hugged Hazel. “How was your vacation?”

Hazel shot Frank a fond look. “I saw lots of baby photos.”

“Please talk about the amethyst deposits instead, honey,” Frank shook his head. “My grandmother told you way too much.”

“Oh, by the way,” Hazel took Piper’s hand. “When you and Jason are done unpacking, Annabeth’s got an announcement. You guys were the last to come back. Cutting it rather close, honestly.”

“An announcement?” Piper echoed. Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think…”

Hazel held her hands up helplessly. “My imagination is running everywhere, Piper. Everywhere .”

--

Percy shifted uncomfortably as more people filed in. 

“Did you invite the whole building for this?” He hissed. Annabeth shushed him with an outstretched finger. 

“You’re being dramatic,” Annabeth patted his hand. “I made a slideshow, Percy. I need an audience.”

“Of course you do,” Percy sighed. 

Jason and Piper were curled together on the couch, Hazel sat on Frank’s lap in the armchair, Leo and Calypso were bickering on the floor, Reyna stood by the kitchen counter clutching a cup of coffee, and Grover was shooting Percy a big thumbs-up from the back of the room. 

“Okay, session to order,” Annabeth said primly, glaring at Calypso and Leo. “All accounted for. So, we have got five slides per vacation here, and everyone will wait their turn. But first, we have an announcement.”

Percy had told Grover already, of course. Just because he was appointed as a full-time ranger in the National Parks Service didn’t mean that Grover was totally out of the loop. 

Annabeth had met him yesterday, and they had got on way too well for Percy’s liking. He could already sense the jokes coming at his expense. 

Annabeth elbowed him, jerking Percy back into the present.

“Hmm? Oh, um right.” Percy cleared his throat. 

“Um, so…Annabeth and I are…we’re…we’re moving in together. Upstairs. So. We wanted to tell all of you, because…you guys are our friends. And floormates. Mostly. Yeah. Just…wanted to tell you…”

Percy trailed off awkwardly, scratching his head. 

Annabeth intertwined her fingers with his, and Percy turned to meet those eyes, deep, full of warmth and mirth, and life. He could read her thoughts as if she had said them out loud.

Idiot. Stop being cute about it. 

Percy couldn’t help it, he blushed. 

“We’re dating.” Annabeth said flippantly. “Okay, so. Reyna, you’re up. I’ve decided to start us geographically from the farthest part of the globe and we’ll spin back to New York…”

They settled together on the rug, in the same spot where they had finished La La Land together those weeks ago, the back of their heads brushing against Annabeth’s drafting table. 

Percy pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s head. 

“Sometimes I still can’t believe it,” Percy murmured. 

Annabeth hummed. “Still can’t believe what?”

Percy glanced upwards, wincing. “How we met. Essentially I was just knocking on your ceiling. Hoping you’d answer. Hoping I’d get your attention. I can’t believe how lucky I got. Of all the ceilings in the world. Of all the people willing to come upstairs and threaten my life, I got you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re really just an English major in disguise,” Annabeth’s head was on his chest, but Percy could hear the smile in her voice. 

“You’re just such a romantic.”

Percy tipped her head up with his fingers. “So are you.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot, Seaweed Brain.”

“Love you too, Wise Girl,” Percy smiled. He was going to turn back and pay attention to Reyna’s honestly intriguing presentation on Filipino daggers, but then Annabeth leaned in and kissed him. 

As was the case time and time again, and would be for the rest of his life, Percy just couldn’t resist it. 

He kissed her back, and the world disappeared for a second, the way he hoped it would for the rest of his life.