Chapter Text
April, 2023:
Annabeth was definitely not paid enough to do this.
There were about twenty microphones shoved in her face, all adorned in the brightest colors known to humanity. Every news channel from the city was here, crowding around her, reporters climbing over each other like wild animals trying frantically to get her to answer their questions.
It was April, and she was dressed in her best clothes to attend the last minute press conference she had been dragged into: a red blazer with matching dress pants, white blouse, and black heels that her feet were already feeling cramped in. She fidgeted with her bracelet, a red piece of coral decorating it, while officers around her tried to calm down the bellowing crowd.
Just three months ago, she had led the investigation to catch a rogue murderer that had made headlines across the city. Just two hours ago, she had caught the killer, making her place in New York’s greatest detectives. But here she was, two hours later, and all she wanted was to go home and cry.
One specific reporter, a woman dressed in the brightest green known to man and screaming at the top of her lungs, was definitely not helping her calm down her nerves.
“Detective!” The woman was turning alarming shades of purple trying to screech louder than the crowd surrounding her- “Any additional comments, a quote, on catching the murderer?”
Annabeth hadn’t slept in two days. She was two seconds away from strangling everyone in the first row, even if that meant abandoning the law.
A door cracked open to her right, and she glanced at the light beaming out of the opening. A man, tall, head decked in unruly black hair, stared straight back at her, sea green eyes eradicating some of the panic she felt as she looked back at the wave of reporters.
With Percy finally here, she could breathe a bit. Finding her voice, she finally spoke into the masses of microphones in front of her, speaking only a few words:
“Please, please be quiet.”
Like commanded, the press conference suddenly fell deadly silent, news reporters straightening their jackets and pushing each other aside. The only noise was a clueless reporter in the back of the room, still yelling her name— but his partner elbowed him in the side, and Annabeth could finally relax a little.
“As you all know, my partner, Detective Jackson and I have recently closed our investigation of the Scythe Killer by capturing the murderer. With over 10 confirmed kills, 13 to be exact, this has been one of the most prominent and deadly criminals that the city has seen in over a decade.”
She didn’t even have to look, but she could feel Percy nod his head to her right, encouraging her to keep speaking. Around him, more of her colleagues from the department were crowded around— and she knew they all were cheering her on.
“I have very little commentary to make on the nature of the killer— however, I would like to recount some of the most important details during this investigation. I will share some moments that were private to the public up until now.”
She swallowed. Her hair was itching her neck, and so her fingers instinctively grasped for the blue hair tie she kept around her left arm. Tying her hair up, taking one more breath, clasping the little red coral on her bracelet, she began to tell her story.
The news reporters that day went home stunned. No more questions were asked.
—
October, 2022:
Annabeth hadn’t expected, on her first day at the new precinct, to be hit by a car. But here she was, frantically trying to gather her belongings as she dusted off her favorite skirt from the impact.
To be fair, it wasn’t a big hit, just a small push that made her knees buckle out below her— but it still made her blood boil as she staggered to her feet and death-stared the driver still stuck behind the wheel of a beat-up blue convertible.
She had been so excited to start her day at a new precinct, she’d gotten up three hours early. Making herself a cup of tea, eating the banana bread Piper had made for her, she felt so ready to introduce herself at a new place.
Piper had brought the banana bread the day before, incredibly proud of her creation.
“It only took three tries!!!! I burnt this one a little too, but it’s not bad compared to the second try, which came out of the oven a weird shade of purple.”
Annabeth stared at her best friend, unsure if she should be worried or proud of the banana bread wrapped in foil before her.
“I also got a little creative with it— I haven’t tasted it either, but i’m pretty sure it won’t poison you—“ At Annabeth’s raised eyebrow, Piper reassured her— “I made Leo try it, and he didn’t throw up like he did the first two times!!”
“Did Jason try it?” Annabeth started to unwrap the foil, already scared of the contents.
“Nah, he was smart enough not too— but Leo will try anything that looks edible. You remember the time he ate that one sandwich he had left in the back of his workshop, right?”
Annabeth remembered that day too fondly for her liking. She had rushed to the hospital straight after work, shaking her head at Leo in his hospital bed recovering from the worst case of food poisoning she had ever seen. She had no clue a person’s face had the ability to turn such a vibrant shade of blue, but Leo continued to prove to her the unimaginable.
Having unwrapped the foil now though, the banana bread’s smell hitting her face, she had to appreciate Piper’s craftsmanship: The banana bread read “Fuck Yeah, Annabeth!!!” in bright red frosting. Flames were painted around the lettering in violent strokes, and a little smiley face adorned the bottom left corner.
“Leo did the flames— he wasn’t given permission to, or anything, but I should’ve known better than to leave the frosting unattended. He threw a tantrum once I took it away from him too.” Piper sighed. “He would only calm down once Jason got home, which was right before Leo challenged me to a duel with the kitchen knives for the remaining frosting.”
“I can’t complain, the flames look great.” Annabeth was touched.
“Leo’s excited to have you join his precinct,” Piper said softly, “He’s been going on about it for a while. He’s happy to have you there.”
Annabeth smiled back at her best friend. She, too, was happy to have a friend at a new place— even if that friend was Leo, who was better at getting into accidents himself than catching criminals. Annabeth was just a little bit worried to see Leo with a loaded firearm.
“Jason did the smiley face?” She asked.
“He did!!” Piper smiled. “He was so proud.”
“This looks amazing. If it doesn’t taste right, I’ll just use it as a paperweight or frame it on my wall.”
Piper wasn’t even minutely offended, but rather nodded expertly.
“The two kilograms of sugar I used will probably hold up for a few decades.”
“The— the what??!”
—
Anyway, Annabeth had woken up three hours prior to her new workplace— and once she had eaten a slice of the banana bread she had deemed edible (not more than a single slice though, she was still skeptical of her best friend's mystery ingredients) she had set off on her walk towards her precinct.
It was early October, the air was nice and fresh, her favorite skirt was perfectly ironed, her stomach didn’t hurt from Piper’s cooking— and everything was perfect until she was hit by that damn car.
The driver of which was still crouched behind the wheel, no doubt in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t there.
After a second of hesitation, Annabeth had enough— marching right up to the window of the car, she tapped on the glass until the driver rolled it down.
After turning down the Taylor Swift song blaring at deadly decibels from the car speakers, a voice came from inside the car.
“Heyyyyy… my bad, I didn’t mean to hit you, you were just standing right in my parking spot—“
“Is that all you have to say?” Annabeth was furious. “Fuck– I— I don’t care if I’m standing in your parking spot, you don’t hit people in front of you!”
To the zero response from the driver, she let out the biggest sigh she could muster.
“You’re coming with me to the precinct.” She declared, her voice not wavering— “I’m pressing charges, there’s no way you’re getting away with this.” She fumbled to find her badge, only to realize she hadn’t gotten her new one yet.
The driver acted as though he hadn’t heard, rather pulling his car into the empty spot and opening the door to step out.
“I’m not kidding,” Annabeth continued, “I’m a police detective, and there’s just no way you’re getting away with that—“
The driver had fully stepped out, and Annabeth took a single second of hesitation (just a smallest second, honestly barely even a moment) to stare at the man in front of her. Black hair, sea green eyes, a wrinkled button up that was probably put on at the last second, around her age. He didn’t even look at her, rather started up the steps to the police station.
“Okay! Thank you for complying—” Annabeth walked after him, trying to catch up to his long strides— “I’m going to have to ask you for your name, you know—“ By then, they had reached the door to the precinct, and she rushed in after him. There was a flush on her cheeks. She didn’t know if it was from the exhilaration of getting hit, or from her new day at the precinct, but it definitely wasn’t because of the wordless man she was still following.
“Hey! You’re going to have to respond, you know, I need your name for the papers—“ Annabeth was cut off, staring at the sight in front of her.
The precinct was filled with people, with desks and uniforms, with hushed voices discussing cases and sharing folders, and she felt a wave of relief flow through her at the comfort of the situation. Once she took the driver’s information and got rid of him, she could barely wait to meet her colleagues and settle into her own desk.
She was about to speak to the man who had hit her, confront him one more time, when a uniformed figure stepped out of the office in front of her.
“Detective Jackson! And— you must be— Detective Chase?” The woman, dressed in dark blue, stared directly at Annabeth. Her eyes were coffee colored, her long black hair tied back in a knot by her neck.
Annabeth was taken back. She slowly turned to stare at the man next to her, then flushed a vibrant shade of pink before staring back at her precinct’s captain.
“Yes ma’am… I’m Detective Chase, transferring from precinct 89. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Reyna Ramirez. It’s a pleasure to have you on the team. We should have a small talk later, discuss some future plans, but I have to run somewhere. I’m sure Detective Jackson won’t mind showing you around, he’s got plenty of time anyway— he usually doesn’t start working until an hour after he’s here.” (Detective Jackson winced a bit at the comment).
Reyna nodded to the both of them before rushing off to her meeting. She turned around before leaving. “And Detective Jackson— I’m sure you won’t mind sharing your desk with our new detective. We’re a little limited in space, but we’ll make it work.” She left in a hurry, leaving Annabeth standing next to her newfound colleague.
The man next to Annabeth stiffened a little, then turned to her with a dry expression.
“Are you still going to press those charges?” His face was unreadable, but there was a faint expression of amusement written across it.
“We’ll see after the tour. Your wild driving will be evaluated, I’ll make sure of that.” Annabeth was growing more irritated by the second, then sighed. “Alright, make the tour quick.”
Detective Jackson narrowed his eyes, but didn’t add anything else. He sighed too, then turned around.
“I’ll make it quick. Wouldn’t want to waste too much time that could be spent filing all that paperwork.”
Annabeth scoffed, but followed.
He led her down the hallways of the precinct, making small comments as they passed rooms— (“This is the files room, but we use it as a nap room,” and “This is the room with the microwave that Conner exploded a lasagna in once, don’t use it– it’s probably nuclear,” and “This is the room where Hazel once kept a baby turtle alive in for more than two weeks without anyone noticing”).
She was introduced to many new faces.
Connor and Travis Stoll were also detectives, and both of them had a glint in their eyes that looked dangerous. When Detective Jackson led her to them, they had been arguing over a sad, melted cupcake one of them had found in their desk— it definitely was molding a little bit, but that didn’t stop Connor from eating it whole after an intense game of rock paper scissors.
Nico di Angelo wasn’t at his desk— but there were three different knives alongside his monitor and keyboard that made Annabeth get the overall aura of his area.
Will, Nico’s desk buddy, had greeted her with a happy smile and a handshake. He was the medical respondent of the team, bright blue eyes framed by the curly blonde hair that enveloped his face. When asked where Nico was, he told Annabeth that Detective di Angelo was currently fighting for his life in the New York traffic.
Detective Jackson was quiet the whole time, an irritated look on his face whenever he answered questions from Annabeth. His friendliness with all the other colleagues did not apply to Annabeth— and she had a sinking feeling that it might have to do with her yelling at him about his manic driving skills.
Once they passed Hazel’s desk (filled with incredibly skilled drawings as a crime portrait artist, along with multiple framed pictures of horses) and Frank’s desk beside her (also filled with pictures of horses, although these pictures had Hazel in them too) they got to Leo’s desk in the very back.
Leo’s desk looked like a crime scene already— his folders were thrown all over the place, marked with unreadable tags like “blood”, “solve later” and one simply marked “fuck”— and there was a smell of burnt wood that could explain the huge burn mark on the corner of his desk.
Annabeth smiled a bit at the mess before her. They were turning to leave, assuming the desk’s owner wasn’t there, when all Annabeth heard was a huge “BANG” coming from the bottom of the desk.
Whirling back, all she could see was a curly mass of hair and Leo’s forehead, freshly slammed into the edge of his very own desk.
“Leo! Are you okay?” She rushed to the back of the desk. She helped him to his feet, a dazed look in his eyes as he recovered from basically resetting his system in a single motion.
“You two know each other?” Detective Jackson was watching the drama before him unfold, leaning against the wall, amused. Leo (still dazed) reached for the taco he had tried to pick up from under his desk.
“Leo’s my friend— we went to the academy together, just ended up in different precincts.” Annabeth helped Leo to his feet. “We both became detectives at the same time, too, we just haven’t worked together yet.”
“Annabeth is like— craaaazy good.” Leo had finally gotten back his grasp of reality. “This one time, she tackled me so hard during training, I blacked out for three days straight.” He took a bite of his taco.
Detective Jackson looked down at his watch.
“If you want me to show you to your desk,” (this was directed at Annabeth, annoyed look on his face) “Then come with me now, because I have to be across the city in a few minutes.” He smiled at Leo, who offered him a bite of taco, an offer which he graciously accepted as he waited for Annabeth’s reply.
“Yeah, sure, let’s go. We’re together, right?”
Instead of replying, Detective Jackson turned and motioned for her to follow him. Annabeth shot a look at Leo, who raised his eyebrows at the tension between the other two detectives. She mouthed “I’ll tell you later” and waved as she left to rush after her guide.
Detective Jackson leaned against the wall before their desk, joined together in the front. It was a little cramped, a situation Annabeth wasn’t too happy with, but could live with.
“You can organize your things any way you want, but don’t cross over the line to my side,” Detective Jackson remarked from behind her, “And don’t use any of my things. I have to follow a case across the city, but I’ll be back around noon if you have any questions.”
It was clear he wasn’t going to answer any questions. By the time he was gone, Annabeth let out a huge breath of air as she gazed at the desk before her. Instinctively, she cursed herself for her nerves and for yelling at her fellow detective (IT WASN'T EVEN THAT BAD OF A HIT, WHY DID I HAVE TO MAKE IT SUCH A BIG DEAL) but then she gave up trying to relax her wound up mind and unpacked her box.
A picture of her and Piper as teenagers, having met for the first time during summer camp, one more of her and Leo, graduating from the police academy, and the last of her mother, the only picture she had before losing touch with her completely. She set that in the corner of her desk, unpacking the rest of her belongings and organizing her monitor to prepare for her new beginning.
She couldn’t help but peek over at Detective Jackson’s side of the desk— her gaze settling on the scuffed bronze name stand that nestled in the middle of his own framed pictures. She could finally put a full name to his face: Perseus Jackson, she read.
He didn’t have many pictures, but of the few he had, most of them seemed to be family. A picture of a little girl, probably 8 years old, was carefully set right next to his monitor. Annabeth looked away once she realized she’d been staring at his somewhat sea-themed desk ensemble (why anyone would need that many seashells in a workplace environment, she wouldn’t know) and finished setting up her fairly scarce desk.
Stretching her legs, she decided to walk around the precinct, wishing for a cup of coffee.
On her way to pour herself a cup, she examined the people around her: Frank was excitedly talking to Hazel about some new archery equipment he really wanted to buy while she sneakily googled every word he said. When Annabeth caught Hazel’s eye, she smiled, waving politely before turning back to Frank’s dilemma over bow material.
Leo, Connor, and Travis seemed to have formed the worst trio in precinct history, debating pranks to pull on Nico in broad daylight at— and Annabeth checked her watch for this— 9:13 am. Nico had seemingly just gotten into the precinct, and was staggering towards the coffee station, bored, a good two meters away from the plans being made against him. His leather jacket looked like it had been in a few fights, his silver rings glinting dully as he opened the cabinet above him.
Annabeth decided this to be prime time to say hello.
“Hi! I’m Annabeth Chase, a new detective on the team. I took a tour earlier, but we didn’t meet— you’re Detective di Angelo, right?”
Nico squinted at her, then nodded.
“You’re the one Leo was talking about,” He remarked, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, “The one Percy hit with his car.”
Annabeth was taken aback for a second, but Nico continued. “If you want my advice, don’t mess with the Stoll twins. I’ve been trying to clean out shaving cream from my locker for two weeks now, and no threats with knives make them stop. Actually, it makes them even more dangerous.”
He took three aspirin pills, swallowed them dry, flipped off the Leo-Connor-Travis trio, then took his two mugs towards his desk. One of the mugs was bright yellow, decorated with pink flowers and butterflies, while the other was pitch black.
Nico walked steadily towards Will, keeping the yellow mug for himself as Will smiled up at him, accepting the black one. Annabeth smiled at the blush on Nico’s face. She didn’t have to be a detective to notice that there was something between the two of them.
With a cup of her own, she headed back towards her own desk, sighing as she thought of the forms she’d have to fill out. Her coffee gripped tight, she raised the mug to her lips.
Now, at this point, her day could not have possibly gotten worse— her favorite skirt was already dusty from being hit by a fucking car, her blonde curls escaping from her bun, and her relationship with her desk mate already down the drain— but life decided to mess with her even more. Because at this point, why not.
She tripped over her chair, sending herself flying directly into Perseus’ side of the desk, shooting scalding hot coffee down the front of her favorite blouse as she face planted right in the middle of a collection of seashells.
Annabeth felt very violent in the moment.
Pushing herself upright, grimacing at the mess down the front of her blouse (which was kind of shaped like the continent of Asia) she tried frantically to clean up the chaos she had usurped on her poor desk mate’s space. A few picture frames had clattered to the floor, some breaking from the impact.
Annabeth wondered if it was too soon to switch precincts.
To make matters worse, the second she started to clean up the desk she had destroyed, a voice sounded behind her:
“I know I may have hit you with my car, but did you really have to unleash your rage onto my poor desk?”
Annabeth really, really did not want to turn around, so the voice continued:
“That collection of seashells was a family heirloom, you know. It’s been passed down through decades.”
“Really??” Annabeth spluttered. She finally whirled around to see Detective Jackson in his full glory, a dry look on his face as he took in the chaos before him.
“No.” He glanced back at the seashells, which resembled a broken heap. “Got them last year when I went to the beach.”
“To be fair, I didn’t think you’d be back until noon, otherwise I would’ve cleaned up as soon as I could.” Annabeth tried to save her case.
“To be fair, I should’ve known better than leaving you here alone to take revenge,” Percy scanned the coffee stained desk, “By gods, Detective Chase, the framed pictures too?? You have incredible aim.”
“I’ll show you my incredible aim the next time you hit me with your car, asshole,” Annabeth muttered under her breath, smoothing out her skirt.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” She smiled with all her teeth bared. “I am so sorry for this mess, Detective Jackson, I’ll clean it up once I’ve submitted all my paperwork.”
“Sure.” The bored look on his face was back as he turned around to leave, yanking out a few soaked papers from the stacks Annabeth had tripped into. “See you later, Detective Chase.”
—
Once Annabeth had cleaned up the mess she had left on the desk (no thanks to Leo, who came around only to say “I like the design, very cozy”) she slumped back into her chair and cursed every god that made her life miserable. On some level, her stomach hurt a little too, and she prayed that Piper’s banana bread would at least take mercy on her.
After she had banged her head into her desk enough times to leave a red mark on her forehead, she finished her paperwork. One thing she could look forward to is getting assigned new cases to work on (hopefully without having to even be near Detective Jackson) and that thought alone made her feel more energized.
Leo came around again to help her sign into the system as a new detective, grinning at her hopeless state as he remarked on her coffee stained blouse and dusty skirt.
“Not even half a day here, and you’re already getting into fights? Seems our precinct has a new delinquent!” Leo was overly ecstatic, eating yogurt out of a cup that suspiciously had a sticky note with “Nico’s yogurt, do not touch” written on it in pink glitter pen.
“It’s not me, it’s Detective Jackson,” Annabeth complained, massaging her temples as she stared at her loading screen, “He hit me with his car this morning, and I may have made him a little angry by criticizing his driving skills.”
“Percy? But he’s such a cool guy!” Leo took another spoonful of his stolen yogurt. “We got matching Team Leo tattoos together after we caught the June Murderer. He’s really good too, I think he’s one of the best detectives here.”
Annabeth shuddered at the thought of Detective Jackson with a Team Leo tattoo, and rather focused back on her screen as she signed in.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think we’re on really good terms…” Annabeth paused as Leo took a huge bite of his yogurt, dripping down a massive glob straight onto her desk.
“My bad, lemme just—“ Annabeth then had to watch in horror as Leo licked up the glob of yogurt straight off her desk, leaving a Leo-stain right where she propped her elbow. Leo grinned up at her before seeing the aggression on her face.
“No yogurt left behind.” And with that wisdom, the curly haired detective jumped off her desk, licking out the contents of his stolen yogurt and leaving his friend in a complete state of disbelief.
Annabeth took no hesitation in texting Piper (“SOS get me out of here I should’ve done an architecture degree instead please please come pick me up” — to which Piper responded with “lol, no <3” and then left her other cries for help on read) and was ready to curl up and die under her desk when she heard Reyna speak behind her.
“Detective Chase, I’m here to assign you to your first case,” Her superior glanced at the coffee stain on her blouse, “And possibly provide you with a change of clothes. Did the coffee machine put up a good fight?”
Annabeth thought back on her disaster of a day, sighed, and replied with:
“A change of clothes would be excellent, thank you so much.”
Following Reyna to her office, she was surprised (and a little annoyed) to find that she wasn’t alone there— seeing as how Detective Jackson was lounging on the other chair beside her. The tension in the room heightened a bit with her entrance, and she tried to look as serious as possible in her coffee stained blouse and wrinkled skirt.
After she had sat down, chair pulled away from the detective beside her, Reyna spoke to the both of them from behind the desk.
“As you both know, Detective Chase is new in our precinct— but looking at her file, I have come to see that she is an excellent asset to our team.”
Annabeth flushed a little, honored from the compliment.
“Seeing as how you, Jackson, have been here for a while, I would like to assign both of you to Chase’s first case.” Reyna turned to Annabeth, ignoring Detective Jackson’s shift in his seat. “Jackson is amongst the best, and I think it would do you both good to get to know each other. For your first case, I won’t assign anything big.”
Rummaging through her files, Reyna pulled out a large folder filled with pictures that she splayed out on the desk. The pictures all contained graffiti shots, done on vans, walls, and even the front door of the precinct. They all showed the same symbol, along with other graphics that were unintelligible.
“We have been having these acts of vandalism happen since around last month, and we have yet to catch the culprit. Security cameras don’t help at all, seeing as our man sprays them down first— this is the only picture we have that might help in identifying the vandal.”
At this, she pointed at a blurry image of a face hidden behind a ski mask.
“I’ve assigned this case to the Stolls before, but they couldn’t get anywhere with it. We don’t know what the culprit is trying to say with these acts of vandalism, but they’re getting worse and more frequent by the day.”
Detective Jackson finally spoke.
“Can’t I just do it alone? Or I’ll get Hazel on the case, she’s got experience with graffiti and art vandalism—“
Reyna looked at him darkly.
“I’m not just assigning this to both of you because I want Chase to get comfortable in the precinct,” She replied, “Don’t forget your last case, Jackson. You crashed two police cars chasing after the wrong man, and we still have to deal with the situation legally.”
Annabeth couldn’t help but smile down at her shoes. Detective Jackson definitely needed some driving help.
Jackson turned red beside her, and only nodded, adjusting his shirt as he glanced over at Annabeth.
“Fine.” Was his only response. “Can I go now? I promised Frank I’d help him with the missing persons case.”
Reyna dismissed him, and the detective rushed out, his face still red. The second the door was closed behind him, she turned to Annabeth, a serious look on her face.
“I trust your reasoning, Annabeth. Please try to work with Percy, I really believe that you two would form a well-balanced duo.”
With that, she reached under her desk, and pulled out a light blue button up, along with Annabeth’s uniform on the table. Annabeth’s new badge sparkled up at her, and she felt some warmth with the familiarity of having one.
“It really is great to have you at Precinct 93.” Reyna smiled, and Annabeth could feel the sincerity behind her words. She ran her fingers over her new badge and smiled back.
—
Once Annabeth got home after her long, exhausting day, she fumbled with the keys to her apartment— barely making it through the door before slumping down onto the couch.
Pulling out her phone, she immediately texted Piper the rest of her day, which went something like this:
1. Walking back to her desk with her uniform and new blouse, only to be greeted with Detective Jackson instantly putting on his headphones and ignoring her completely.
2. Trying to get the printer to work with all the button combinations she could come up with, only to have Nico walk behind her and kick the printer aggressively three times with a calm face (it worked perfectly after that).
3. Trying to change in a deserted filing cabinet, but having Detective Jackson barge in the second she was half undressed— her face red, apologetic, him needing a few seconds to process the scenario before sprinting back out, his folders left behind on the floor.
4. Eating lunch with the rest of her coworkers, one of the parts of her day she actually enjoyed. Leo had brought super spicy hot sauce, which he offered around the table; Frank’s face after trying it was red for at least an hour.
5. And lastly, trying to understand any correlation between the graffiti pictures Reyna had provided for her, only to give up and stagger home, completely tired.
Having sent her rant to Piper, she felt much more calm and decided to take a shower and look back again at the vandalism pictures from the case folder. Both her and Detective Jackson had gotten one, but she had yet to see him look through his.
She had experience with vandalism cases before– when she started working as a detective, they were some of the first cases she took on. She smiled, fondly remembering the first time she caught a vandal after a long chase through the city. She had gone home exhausted that day, but truly happy.
Frowning, Annabeth put down her heavy folder of graffiti pictures, remembering that she didn’t actually have Detective Jackson’s contact information. Reyna had told them to collaborate, and yet he had rushed out of the precinct the second the clock hit 5 pm.
She stretched. Padding over to the kitchen, she opened the fridge, hoping that some food may have materialized there since she last opened the door.
It hadn’t.
A fun fact about Annabeth: she disliked cooking. Actually, ‘dislike’ is a light term to use: the last time she attempted something even as simple as a grilled cheese, she had seen her life flash before her eyes as her pan went up in flames.
She got her jacket. The corner store it was then.
Every night-shift worker at the corner store knew her face: she was their most frequent shopper, often at odd times in the night when she craved the spiciest instant noodles they had.
This night was no exception. She smiled at the thought of selecting the spiciest noodles they had, then passing out on the couch watching Brooklyn 99. It was the little things that brought her joy.
She was about to enter the neon glow of the store when a single thing stopped her.
In the parking lot of the store was the blue convertible that she knew, unmistakably, belonged to a person she met not very long ago.
Detective Jackson.
She was sure it was his. She recognized the red coral charm that hung on the rearview mirror, the first thing she had seen when he hit (okay, tapped) her with his car.
The hood of the car was down, which meant its owner had to be near. Annabeth stared through the hazy mirror of the corner store, scanning the shelves until she recognized a head of black hair walking up to the cashier.
The way Annabeth saw it, she had two options: be peaceful, get her noodles, go home, pass out on the couch. That was the diplomatic option, and Annabeth always went with the diplomatic option.
Or– or she could do something she would definitely regret later. No one hit her with their car and got away with it.
She snatched the red coral charm on his mirror, pushing it into her pajama pockets without a second thought.
Detective Jackson had paid and was walking to the corner store door.
Her face flushed, aware of the situation she had just put herself in. If she tried to put the charm back now, he’d catch her.
Instead, she walked towards the door as well, willing her heart rate to slow down, not processing the theft she had just committed in a state of pure pettiness.
Opening the door to the store, she remembered the clothes she was wearing: bright pink pajamas (Piper and Leo had a matching pair) and her orange rain jacket. He would definitely see her, she was a walking neon sign.
Taking a deep breath, she walked into the store with a nervous feeling in her gut.
Almost like planned, she bumped directly into Detective Jackson, his bag of groceries toppling open.
He barely even had time to register who it was he just crashed into as Annabeth jumped back.
“Hitting me with your car first, then weaponizing your groceries to jump me?” She gasped, staring at his helpless pile of scattered goods. “Either you’re obsessed with me, or just have a horrible aim. Maybe both. Definitely both.”
Detective Jackson glared up at her as he collected his (worryingly huge) pile of Sour Patch Kids into his bag.
“Trust me, it’s neither,” He clarified, his tone rock-hard, “You can’t be a very good detective if you can’t seem to understand that from the very obvious evidence.”
“This corner store is five minutes from where I live. I could add stalking to that list.”
“Perhaps I live nearby too. Ever considered that?” Percy narrowed his eyes. “I hope they taught you in the police academy how cities work.”
“At least I’ve never crashed my car,” Annabeth tried to weakly deflect his comments, “If I see a person in front of me, I remember what a brake is. I hope your driving instructor taught you that.”
“Yeah, well, at least I can carry coffee in a mug,” The insults were starting to sound a bit more on the kindergarten level, but neither of them were backing down, “You know, the cup with a handle? Very good to use instead of soaking other people’s things?”
“Have you even looked into our case yet?” Annabeth was fuming. “Or is this all just a joke to you?”
“I haven’t, because I’ve got better things to do,” His tone was sharp, “Before you got here, I was in charge of handling much bigger cases than some teenager with a spray can on the loose. I’m not here to train you, Chase, so if you’re feeling intimidated, I recommend getting a more peaceful job. One with fewer weapons.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through.” Annabeth was face to face with her coworker, her face flushed, her eyes mere centimeters away from his. “I’m willing to take this seriously, so if you’re the one that can’t handle me, I’d advise you to leave me alone.”
Detective Jackson was about to come up with a very smart, very cool comeback (probably something like ‘You suck anyway, you’re just a big loser’) when a voice cleared its throat behind them.
Mitchell, the cashier Annabeth had come to grow somewhat friends with, was staring right at the pair of them, phone in hand.
“I think you’re definitely scaring our customers,” He said in a bored voice, “I need to ask you both to leave or finish your very mature insults elsewhere or I’ll call the police.”
Detective Jackson and Annabeth exchanged a look before exclaiming ‘We are the police!’ at the same time. As Annabeth watched, her coworker gathered the last of his groceries from the floor (blue sprinkles, bug spray, and very spicy noodles) and left the store with a furious look on his face, murmuring “Nice pajamas” under his breath as he passed her.
Annabeth looked apologetically at Mitchell, who shrugged and went back to the show he was watching on his phone.
Once she had bought her groceries, she stepped out into the cool October air.
The coral pendant burned hot in her pajama pocket, and she pulled it out, watching it catch the neon light of the corner store.
This meant war.