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It’s long past midnight, and the Jackson-Chase New Year's party is finally winding down.
Percy likes entertaining people, likes spending time with his loved ones, but gods, is he looking forward to this celebration coming to an end. He can tell that Annabeth’s ready too—she leans against him, yawning and tired-eyed.
Their friends and family bundle up into coats and scarves, some still a bit tipsy from the champagne. Percy hugs and kisses and chants “Happy New Year!” so many times that he sounds like a broken record.
“...we left the baby with my mom,” Hazel’s saying, wiggling her fingers into a pair of gloves. Frank grabs her purse from the hook and nudges her gently.
“Enough chatting, Hazel, we really should get going.”
“Oh, alright.”
“See you next week,” Annabeth says to Hazel, squeezing her one last time.
And then they’re walking out, the final guests to depart, and Percy can shut the door with a relieved sigh.
“What a night,” he says, turning to his wife.
Annabeth sinks down on the sofa. “What a night,” she agrees. “I still can’t believe nobody noticed that I didn’t touch the champagne.”
She closes her eyes, dropping her head onto a pillow. Percy touches her arm. “Do you need anything? Are you feeling okay?”
“Just tired. Let me rest for a few minutes and I’ll help clean up.”
“Don’t worry about that. I can—”
“I’m pregnant, Percy, not bedridden.”
Percy’s heart warms, thinking of the tiny human living in Annabeth’s belly, growing bigger and stronger every day. They haven’t told anyone besides Percy’s parents the news yet, but Annabeth’s starting to show, so they’ll have to spill the beans in a few weeks.
“I just don’t want you to strain yourself,” he says. He tries not to sound worried, but his voice wobbles nervously anyway.
Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Oh, and cleaning is such a strain.” She pats his arm, standing up. “Believe me, I’ll be using the baby as an excuse to get out of things many times in the future, but not tonight.”
They head into the kitchen and divide up the chores. Dishwashing duty goes to Annabeth because she loses rock-paper-scissors.
“Ugh,” she groans. “Can I pull the pregnancy card now?”
Percy grabs a garbage bag and shakes it out, laughing. “Tough luck, wise girl.”
He clears the counters of trash first, then makes his way to the living room, where every free surface is littered with plastic cups and paper plates and novelty new year's noisemakers.
They bought this house a few weeks after their wedding, and in the three years since, it’s become so much more than just their home. It’s a shrine to Annabeth and Percy, their love and the life they’ve built together.
Memories cover every inch of this place. There’s the front door, where Percy cheesily carried Annabeth over the threshold and then she insisted on carrying him bridal-style too, just to prove that she could. The menu on the fridge from the Chinese restaurant that has really good noodles. The framed photos on the fireplace. The claw marks on the bathroom door that their cat made after they accidentally shut him inside (they always leave the door open a crack now). Annabeth’s old fearless CD stuck in the old kitchen stereo—it wasn’t Taylor’s Version, anyway, so they didn’t make much of an attempt to pry it out.
Annabeth is at the sink now, wearing those comically big dishwashing gloves he always makes fun of, rinsing the remains of a vegetable casserole from the glass dish. Curls tumble out of her updo, brushing her shoulders and framing her face.
A wave of affection crashes over Percy. He used to think that one day he’d look at his wife and her beauty wouldn’t make him stop to catch his breath, but it’s been three years since their wedding and that day hasn’t come. Probably never will.
Percy wraps his arms around Annabeth from behind, burying his nose into her neck. It’s still faintly scented from her perfume. He presses kisses to her skin as she laughs.
“Get out of my way, Jackson.”
He smirks. “Try me, Jackson.”
“Jackson- Chase,” Annabeth corrects, spraying him with soapy water from the sponge.
He laughs, shooting the water back at her with a flick of his hand.
“Stupid fish boy powers,” she grumbles.
Percy drops a kiss on the side of her head and gets back to work. He has to practically wrestle their big, clunky vacuum cleaner out of the tiny closet they store it in.
“Why haven’t we bought a new vacuum yet?” he asks as he wrangles with the tangled cord. “Preferably a cordless one?”
“Do you know how much a cordless vacuum cleaner costs?”
“It could be an investment! Grown-ups make lots of those!”
“We bought a new Swiffer on Black Friday and haven’t used it twice. You called that an “investment” too.”
“I just think that a cordless vacuum would solve all of our problems. Think of, like, all the hassle we’d avoid! There would be a good return—”
“We’ll discuss this another time, Mr. Shark Tank.”
Percy finally works out the knot in the cord and plugs it into the wall. He vacuums the crumbs and glitter from the floor and Annabeth finishes the dishwashing, and then they turn out the lights.
While Annabeth showers, Percy sets up the heating pad for her cramps and lights the candle that she insists helps with headaches. The cat is curled up on his side of the bed, purring quietly.
Percy scratches behind his ear. “Have you been hiding in here all night, Noodle?” he whispers.
(Their cat is named Noodle because that’s what they were eating the night they adopted him, of course.)
Annabeth emerges from their bathroom, hair wet and smelling of lemons. She’s in that one silky green sleep-set, the one Percy loves because the fabric feels really soft against his cheek if he rests his head on her shoulder.
Also, she looks annoyed. And therefore hot. Really, really hot.
“Have you been using my shampoo again? The bottle’s almost empty and that stuff isn’t cheap—oh.”
Percy sweeps Annabeth into his arms and kisses her long and deep, pressing her back against the bathroom door frame. She releases a soft sigh as she pulls away.
“What was that for?”
“I love you.”
They stare at each other, grinning like the lovesick high-school kids they’ll always be at heart.
“Also…I have been using your shampoo.”
Her eyes widen. “I knew it! You asshole.”
“It smells good!”
Percy kisses her again, and then they’re walking backwards to the bed. They fall onto it, laughing, and Annabeth climbs on top of him, knees bracketing his hips, her kisses languid and sweet.
Eventually, Percy showers and brushes his teeth. When he comes out of the bathroom, Annabeth’s in bed, Gossip Girl on the TV. They always watch an episode before going to sleep, no matter how late it is.
Annabeth glances up. “Is season three good?”
“The best.”
She turns on the episode, keeping the volume low. Percy can hardly keep his eyes open by the time it’s over. Annabeth clicks the off button on the remote and gets out of bed to blow out her candle, quickly slipping back under the covers.
“Happy new year,” she whispers, nestling into his side.
“Happy new year.”
Percy’s half-asleep when Annabeth speaks again.
“We should paint the nursery yellow.”
“What?” Percy sits up a little, propping his head on his arm. “I thought we agreed on blue.”
They’ve been through this argument probably ten times. At one point, it got so heated that Percy was exiled to the couch for a night (although he couldn’t sleep and ended up crawling into the bed once Annabeth was asleep).
“Until the paint is on the walls, nothing is decided yet.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you to sneak in the nursery in the dead of night and secretly repaint everything,” Percy mutters.
“A good case can be made for yellow. It’s more gender neutral, for one, and there’s psychological benefits. Studies show that pale yellow can increase happiness.”
“What studies? Just because you read it on one of your new mothers’ Facebook groups doesn’t make it irrefutable fact.”
“You just want to paint it blue because it’s your favorite color!”
“And that’s a perfectly valid reason!”
She sighs, shifting so she’s turned onto her side. Her voice comes out small and quiet when she says, “I’m really scared, Percy. What if I’m a bad mom?”
Percy takes her by the shoulder and gently rolls her over to face him. “Nobody’s perfect, Beth. You’re bound to make a few mistakes, but there’s no way you’ll be a bad mom. Our kid is gonna love you so much. They’re incredibly lucky to have you for a mother.” She sniffs, a tear slipping down her cheek. Percy gently swipes it away. “Aw, don’t cry.”
Annabeth gives a wet laugh. “It’s the pregnancy hormones.”
She tucks her face into his chest and threads their fingers together, and it will never cease to amaze Percy just how perfectly they fit, like they’re puzzle pieces made to snap in place.
If soulmates exist, Annabeth is his.
“I love you so much,” Annabeth whispers, lifting his hand to her lips. She kisses each of his knuckles in turn, lingering on the one with his wedding band. “So, so much.”
Annabeth’s breathing evens out after a minute and he listens to the sound of it, her soft inhales and exhales. She snores a little, too, and somehow Percy finds it endearing. This is where he belongs, his home, her.
He kisses the top of her head, and falls asleep not long after.