Chapter Text
Annabeth Chase is often described by many different adjectives (a plethora of which are present on her resume, should you find yourself in want of a copy) – tardy is never one of them.
Today is no different. Even if it is a day that she has come to dread.
She wakes with her alarm at 6:00am precisely, and spends less than thirty seconds rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before she is standing from her bed and stretching her stiff muscles. She moves through her routine just like every morning. Warm shower: ten minutes long in which she washes the tiredness from her bones and is newly awake when she steps out. Start breakfast: two slices of whole wheat bread slid into the toaster. Get dressed: a crisply pressed pantsuit, dark grey and void of any wrinkles. Eat: buttered toast – no jam, one glass of orange juice – no pulp, one bowl of blueberries – organic. Brush teeth (two minutes exactly), wash her face, tame her hair, do her makeup. Grab her coat and her pre-packed briefcase: documents, laptop, leather planner, pocket notebook, legal pad, three ballpoint pens, two mechanical pencils, an eraser, four highlighters of various colors, a sharpie, roll-on perfume, extra lipstick, miniature sewing kit, and a pack of spearmint gum. Pat her coat pockets down: keys, wallet, phone. Shoes on, door locked behind her, and out of her apartment complex at 7:00. Just like every morning.
Outside of her New York City apartment on the Upper East Side, she catches a taxi to Delphi & Jones and is walking into the double glass doors and scanning her ID at security before the lights have turned on in all of the corporate high rise lobbies. She rides the elevator up to the sixth floor, drops a stack of papers off on her assistant Laura’s desk with a yellow sticky note denoting instructions (highlight all of the data points higher than 32% – green highlighter, not blue, please), and is sitting down in her office at 7:30 on the dot.
The floor is empty other than her. She wishes the peace would last. She knows it will not.
Because today is the horrible day, the most dreaded day of Annabeth’s whole summer.
Today is intern day.
~
Annabeth doesn’t set off immediately to dislike the interns – it isn’t in her nature to pass judgment on something that she has not had the time to fully evaluate. People are not exempt from this. She knows better than to uphold any preconceived notions about much of anything , because if there is one thing she has learned in her three years working at Delphi & Jones – the top environmental law firm in New York – it is that there are very very very few things in the universe that are consistently stagnant. Humans are not one of those things.
However, Annabeth is sure that she could be easily convinced to believe one of the constants of the universe was that interns were absolutely always infuriatingly annoying.
She really really tried not to be harsh with them – she herself had once been an intern at a firm, many summers ago during her time as an undergrad student with her sights set on law. But she is very sure that she had not been so… anxious. Anxiously eager. Sure, she had been some sort of eager, extremely keen and hardworking, but she hadn’t been the nervous trembling sort.
There seemed to be an abundance of nervous, trembling, anxious interns that cycled in every summer at D&J. Very rarely would one or two be bearable. Most of the time, they lacked total and complete dignity in their race to please. It exhausted her.
However, she was never rude. Never too harsh, simply honest. Truth without kindness was unbecoming, but so was nicety without truth. So she walked the line with balance and precision and as much patience for their stumbling and stuttering as she could muster.
And if her stony gaze made the interns cower, well that could simply not be helped.
Annabeth does her best to push all thoughts of the treacherous day ahead, and instead focuses on readying herself for the day. She has thirty minutes until the other associates will begin to filter into their desks: thirty minutes until her work day must officially begin.
She powers on her laptop and opens her calendar and inbox, arranges her planner on her desk next to her folders, and begins leafing through the pile of documents and notes she needs to organize before her 2:30 client meeting. She does a cursory check of her email, sending off several easy responses and forwarding a data sheet to the person it was actually meant to go to.
The first person to enter the seventh floor is Piper McLean, another midlevel associate, who stops by Annabeth’s open office door to drop off a couple of cookies from the container her boyfriend sent her in with. Annabeth smiles gratefully and accepts the treats, tucking them into her desk for later. Jason’s baking always served to better her mood, even if it happened to be intern day.
“Ready to meet the new minions?” Piper says brightly, her cheerful purple suit much too happy for Annabeth’s taste. Annabeth fixes her with a mock glare, and Piper laughs gleefully as she ducks back out and settles at her desk.
Unlike Annabeth, Piper doesn’t have her own office, like many of the other midlevel associates. The sixth floor is home to three different types of employees: two high level senior associates, thirty-seven midlevel associates, and a handful of assistants. The junior associates are a floor below, the rest of the senior associates a floor above. Annabeth is the only midlevel associate with her own office; it’s a testament to the caliber of her work. And that’s not ego speaking: that’s fact. She would be a senior associate already, if not for her age. 25 years was not quite old enough, but she expected she would be working on floor seven if she kept up the good work for another two years. No one in the company really doubted that she would make it. Many believed she would end up a partner. The idea was appealing, as it was one of her life goals, but she was not too concerned with making partner. She was ambitious, but not overly egotistical, and she knew becoming a partner at a firm was a very difficult thing to achieve and she could very well hit 40 before it happened. She didn’t mind: it wasn’t the status that mattered to Annabeth. It was the work. A private office was simply an added luxury.
A few more associates trickle in before 8:00, Laura peeking in with fifteen minutes to spare. She places a black coffee on Annabeth’s desk and hands her a memo from one of her clients and another printed document.
“Good morning Ms. Chase! I’ve updated your schedule for today in your calendar, but I know for busy days you like a paper copy so I printed it out as well. I’ve highlighted the in person meetings in green and the online meetings in blue. Do you need me to finish highlighting that solar data report before your 11:30 or 2:30 meeting?” she says, placing the printed schedule down in front of Annabeth and gesturing toward her desk outside of Annabeth’s office with her free hand.
“The 2:30 meeting, please. Thank you Laura,” Annabeth says, smiling politely.
Laura nods with her own pleasant smile and ducks back out, just as floor six has truly woken up. Christopher Brunner, one of the senior associates on their floor, waves at Annabeth jovially as he wheels past her office to reach his own. The other senior associate – Ariadne Crete – is on vacation with her husband. Annabeth envies her – for the vacation part, not the husband part. As much as Annabeth admires Ms. Crete, she does not like the woman’s husband. In his defense, she had only met him once at an office dinner where he had been wonderfully drunk. But Ariadne seemed to love him and he seemed to love her an awful lot back, so whatever works for them works.
At 8:15am, the elevator dings open, and the sight of seven young adults aged 19-25 makes Annabeth’s stomach drop. Piper catches her eye through her open office door and has the audacity to wink . Annabeth shoots her a glare before turning her attention onto the new bunch. They are, like always, obnoxiously nervous and meek. It takes every ounce of carefully controlled professionalism in Annabeth’s body to restrain from rolling her eyes. Her office door is open, after all. Several curious glances from the bunch have already landed on her. She continues to pretend to read over the draft document she needs to present at her 11:30 meeting with the Bronx River Alliance representatives, but really, she surreptitiously searches their group to see which corporate employee is wrangling this group. She expects to find an office manager or perhaps a legal administrator, but when her eyes land on the familiar face of Leo Valdez, she nearly slams her head down on her desk in exasperation.
Dear God anyone but Leo Valdez , Annabeth thinks, staring down at her computer so hard the brightness of the white page before her is practically burned into her eyelids.
A more dignified corporate personnel would forgo interrupting Annabeth with something as trivial as an intern tour – especially if she pretended to be ultra concentrated. Honestly, she didn’t even have to pretend to be busy, she really does have a lot on her plate. A more dignified member from corporate would respect that. Leo Valdez is not dignified. Leo Valdez is a pain in Annabeth’s ass and he takes a lot of pleasure at the start of the intern season because he knows just how much Annabeth hates it. He is, in short, evil.
She’s not even sure how he keeps ending up being relegated to intern tours – he’s a member of their marketing and public relations team. She suspects he personally requests it, the maniac.
She opens up a new document on her computer and begins typing fast, just throwing a bunch of random legal terms and their definitions down as quickly as she can for no other reason than to appear ultra ultra busy. The document she’s supposed to be reviewing is so close to being finished that all she needs to do is slowly read over and edit it. That won’t do – no. She has to look as hectically busy as possible if she has any hope of keeping Leo away.
(Of course, she could just close her door. But then someone important might think she really was busy, and she couldn’t have that happening if they needed her).
Unfortunately for her, barely a minute has passed before she hears Leo’s devilish little voice at her doorway. She prays it moves past, but of course, her prayers go unanswered.
“Annabeth Chase! What a glorious, gorgeous , beautiful , positively wonderful thing it is to see you, my good gracious friend!” He practically shouts into her office, full of so much bright energy that Annabeth wants to throw her stapler at him. Outside of her office, practically every single associate has paused what they are doing to watch the spectacle; they all know exactly what to expect and they’re all eager to watch it play out. Traitors .
“Valdez.” She keeps her tone cool and intimidating, pausing her furious (and purposeless) typing to fix him with a stone cold stare. She’s practiced this look enough times to know it would scare off any other person. Leo, however, just smiles bigger.
“Folks, allow me to introduce you to Annabeth Chase, our spiffiest spoofiest top-of-the-game-iest midlevel associate! She’s a graduate from Columbia and NYU’s School of Law! Yep, that’s right!” he says, as the group of the interns stare at her in wonder. Annabeth nearly turns her stare on them, but she refrains and folds her hands in front of each other.
“Valdez, you flatterer ,” she grits out, voice turning darkly dangerous. Several of the interns go from awestruck to terrified. She doesn’t mind that much.
“Any of you kiddies have any questions for our resident ray of sunshine over here?” Valdez asks brightly, and Annabeth wishes not for the first time that she could shoot laser beams out of her eyes. To her horror, some of them actually begin to raise their hands , but then the phone on her desk begins to ring, and she is gracefully saved.
“Sorry folks, I’ve got to take this,” she says in a false apology, picking up the receiver.
“Hello, this is Annabeth Chase speaking.”
“So, how’s that weather this morning huh?” Piper’s voice crackles into Annabeth’s ear. Leo is watching her carefully, so she schools her face into a serious mask.
“Oh absolutely, I understand Detective Inspector. That is very serious.”
Leo narrows his eyes suspiciously, but luckily for Annabeth, it isn’t actually that unbelievable that Annabeth would be speaking to a detective. It happens more often than one would think.
“I thought the sunshine was rather nice, although it’s really starting to get hot isn’t it? What a shame.”
“Yes, Detective, that is quite the development. We need to begin an investigation into that cause immediately; when are you flying in sir?”
“I was thinking about pizza for dinner. What time are you free after work?”
“Eight pm sir? Right sir, and those classification folders, have you begun a review on those documents yet?”
Piper snorts and begins to rattle on about what kind of pizza she wants, but Annabeth keeps her features perfectly intact, and Leo relents in the belief that she is seriously speaking to a detective. He may be annoying, but he would never actually impede on her job. Good thing she’s not actually speaking to a member of the police force – it’s too early for that kind of stress. Once the group is finally filing away to learn about their required tasks, Annabeth lets the ruse drop.
“Thanks for that, McLean.”
“That was the favor I owed you from last week Chase. Francesco’s or Parla?”
“San Matteo. I’ve been craving their Neapolitan. Gotta go, this report really does need polishing.”
Piper hums her assent and Annabeth hangs up, turning her attention back to her computer screen. With any luck, that will have been the only interruption from the interns today.
Annabeth should know better than that; the fates are never on her side when it comes to interns.
~
If there was one singular thing Annabeth disliked more than an undignified intern it was an unprofessional one. Unprofessionalism in anyone was something she tended to look down upon, but especially in the form of tardiness. Tardiness was something that Annabeth despised down to her very core.
So when she sees a young man step out of the elevator, no older than 24 and wearing the posture of someone new to a place, she glances at the clock above her door and frowns when it reads 10:00. The other interns were toured at 8:30 – this guy is late late.
She’s at the coffee counter when she sees him, waiting for the new batch to percolate so she can refill her third cup. Technically, she could have an intern do it, but she really doesn’t want to interact with any of them if she can help it.
Unfortunately for her, the coffee stand is right next to the elevators, and even more unfortunately, the intern looks like he might be lost. No one else seems to be paying attention, all well-absorbed in their work right now. Leo has retreated to his floor (thank the heavens).
The man has a dark head of curls that look dangerously tamed, sea green eyes doing a sweep of the office. He’s wearing a simple light blue button down and a pair of black slacks, neither exceptionally untidy but neither very neat either. He carries a leather bag in one hand, and his lanyard in the other. The coffee machine gurgles away, and when no one else approaches him and he doesn’t move, Annabeth sighs and begrudgingly moves forward into his line of vision.
“Are you lost?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out as harshly as it does, and she silently reprimands herself, but he’s very late and he’s an intern which is two strikes in Annabeth’s book so she can’t really be at fault for already disliking him.
He turns those sea green eyes on to her, and she freezes as he smiles sheepishly. It’s not endearing per say, Annabeth refuses to be charmed by an intern . A LATE intern. She raises one critical eyebrow. His charming smile falters a tiny bit.
“I was just looking for Mr. Brunner. They told me floor six - this is floor six right?”
Mr. Brunner? What on earth could an intern have to do with Mr. Brunner?
“Are you sure that’s who you’re supposed to find? Mr. Brunner? Not someone in corporate?” Her voice is more than a little clipped, and his smile is already fading at her unfriendly interrogation. It really isn’t entirely intentional – that’s just how Annabeth is sometimes.
He pauses, looking confused. “...Noo I’m definitely supposed to meet with Mr. Brunner… he’s a senior associate here?”
“Is that a question? Or a fact?” Now, the man looks totally out of depth. If he hadn’t been so late, Annabeth might have felt a little sorry for him.
“Um. A fact. He’s a senior associate...”
“Well, I’m not really sure what an intern could have to do with Mr. Brunner, but that’s his office over there,” she says impassively, pointing towards his door. “Next time, don’t be late and you won’t miss the tour.”
She turns back to the coffee machine which has begun to beep, signifying it’s done. She ignores the man, focusing on pouring her coffee and then returning back to her office. Her meeting is in less than two hours – she needs to make sure her notes are in order and then check the conference room to ensure it’s ready.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the man stare blankly at her for a few more moments, before something seems to spur him on and he weaves his way across the floor towards Brunner’s office. She dutifully ignores him, too busy to pay anymore attention to interns today. She finishes organizing her notes, and then sweeps across the floor to the elevators. On the second floor she finds the conference room she’s been assigned in preparation, and nods, satisfied. It’s a half hour before the meeting is scheduled, so she opts to stay in the room to meet the clients when they arrive. She organizes her spot at one head of the table, placing her notes front and center and making sure the folder holding all of her documents is in order.
The meeting goes by very smoothly, and Annabeth leaves the conference room feeling buoyed. It’s already almost 1pm, so she’ll need to take a very quick lunch break in order to have time to prepare for her 2:30. She enters the sixth floor with purposeful strides to retrieve the solar data report from Laura, and freezes in her tracks when she lays eyes on the desk.
Standing across from Laura, conversing with an ease that looks far too comfortable for his first day, the intern from earlier throws his head back in a chortle. Annabeth very nearly glowers.
She finishes crossing the floor to her office, clearing her throat when she approaches her assistant. Laura looks up quickly, smiling cheerfully and immediately rifling through her papers to find the report.
“Hello Ms. Chase! How did the meeting go?” Laura asks, depositing the report in Annabeth’s hand.
“Very well, thank you.” She turns her gaze on the man. “Don’t you have a job to be doing? Copies to make or something?”
He looks at her strangely, but Laura smiles lightly.
“Oh, so you have met Ms. Chase! And Ms. Chase, I suppose you’ve met Percy.”
Percy . Huh.
“Briefly,” Percy says, that sheepish smile finding its way back onto his face, “However I wasn’t aware of who she was.”
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, but before she can respond he continues.
“Although, I don’t think she knew who I was either.”
Annabeth furrows her brow in confusion, staring at him with a hardened gaze.
“Excuse me?” It’s polite, but Laura widens her eyes slightly anyway. Percy, somehow, laughs, and then extends his hand.
“I’m Percy Jackson. I’m Mr. Brunner’s new assistant. Not an intern.”
Oh . Oops .
“Ah. I see,” Annabeth says coolly, shaking his offered hand firmly. A quick glance to the desk outside of Brunner’s office proves it to be no longer vacated, a familiar leather bag placed amongst a few office supplies and personal items that must belong to Percy. Brunner finally hired someone, then. Interesting.
“Well, Mr. Jackson, as… pleasant as this has been, I really do have to run. Laura,” she glances at her watch, cringing when she sees that it’s half past one. “I suppose I’m going to have to take a late lunch. I’m going to go over that UL Solutions paperwork, and then I need you to send it over to Levesque. You can take your lunch whenever, just give me a heads up. I don’t need you for the 2:30.”
Laura nods her understanding and offers Annabeth good luck which she accepts gratefully. As she retreats into her office, Percy sends her a grin and a wave, which she ignores save a raised eyebrow and a pointed look at Brunner’s office. Taking the hint, Percy chuckles and pushes off of Laura’s desk where he was leaning, making his way back to his desk. Annabeth pretends not to observe him over the top of the report Laura gave her.
He sits down in his chair, focusing on his computer screen and typing away at something. When he stands to retrieve some papers from the printer, he makes brief eye contact with Annabeth, who rips her gaze away and dutifully pours over the report. She thinks she saw a flash of a grin on his face, but she pushes all thoughts of him away, zoning in solely on her paperwork. She has a meeting to prepare for high profile clients to discuss solar data with. She cannot afford to be distracted.
~
Annabeth startles from her concentration at the sound of her phone buzzing incessantly on her desk. She checks the screen, and nearly swears when she sees the time.
7:30. She’s supposed to meet Piper in half an hour at San Matteo for dinner. She glances up and looks out of her office door, and is met with a nearly empty floor, save for a few still working associates. Laura cleared out an hour ago, after finishing her tasks. Annabeth felt bad for keeping her past 5, but she needed her for a 6 o’clock meeting, and she paid her overtime. Besides, Laura didn’t seem to mind. She had been working for Annabeth for two years now – while the two weren’t necessarily friends, they were friendly enough.
Sighing, Annabeth closes the binder of environmental policy she’s been perusing diligently, rubbing at her temples where a headache has begun forming. Great . She swipes open her phone, checking the messages that had buzzed earlier. They’re from Piper.
Pipes
Are you still at work?
Actually don’t bother I already know the answer
Don't forget our plans cookie. Or it'll be you who owes the favor this time
Annabeth snorts, typing out a quick response.
Sorry, I got caught up with some regulation paperwork. I’ll be there, don’t worry – just might be late.
Piper responds immediately, hearting the message and then sending a chain of emojis in varying states of distress. Annabeth laughs again, then pockets her phone, standing and stretching. She packs her things quickly, sliding the binder into her case for further review – she’ll have to stay up after dinner tonight. In the elevator, she pushes the button to keep the doors open when a voice calls out to hold the elevator ! She realizes her mistake when a figure who is growing quickly familiar steps in and smiles his thanks.
She enters the elevator at 7:32 with Percy Jackson. She exits the elevator two hours later.
~
Annabeth leans her back against the elevator wall with an exhausted groan, head knocking against the shining metal with a satisfying thump . She had texted Piper almost immediately to cancel, after the elevator had made a rather concerning noise in between the third and fourth floor and then promptly shuttered to a stop.
Annabeth had used the emergency phone to call for help, the operator promptly telling her maintenance would be there to assist as soon as possible. As it turned out, soon was two hours.
Piper had been understanding, of course, sending an appropriate “oh nooooooooo :(((((((((((((“ and assuring Annabeth that it was fine, that she hadn’t even made it to the restaurant since she knew Annabeth was going to be late. She still felt bad though; she definitely owed Piper a favor now.
As the elevator grew progressively stuffier, only exacerbated by the awkward silence as Percy leaned against the opposite wall in clear discomfort, Annabeth felt the exhaustion seep into her bones like a tea bag soaked in boiling water. It wasn’t that she was panicking or anything – Annabeth was extremely rational and not at all inclined to panic.
No, Annabeth had not panicked at the jammed elevator, she had panicked at spending two hours entrapped in a small space with Percy Jackson . Internally, of course.
After ten minutes, he started talking. Annabeth nearly groaned in frustration.
~
“So, a midlevel associate at 25 years old. That’s pretty damn impressive huh?”
“Mm.”
“Do you like it here? At Delphi & Jones, I mean.”
“Mhm.”
“And you’ve worked here for how long again?”
“Three years.”
“ Woow . A midlevel associate in just three years! That’s so awesome.”
“Uhuh.”
“You must’ve had to work pretty hard.”
“Yup.”
“What made you get into environmental law?”
Annabeth turns to look at him sharply, not with anger but simply with confusion.
“Why?”
“Why do I want to know?”
“No, why are you asking me so many questions?”
“Oh. Sorry,” Percy has the decency to look a little embarrassed, “I was just curious. I mean, we’re probably gonna be here for a while. It seemed like getting to know you was a good way to stay occupied.”
Annabeth doesn’t respond right away, mulling it over in her head. He’s not exactly wrong, she realizes. She doesn’t want to use her phone if she doesn’t have to – never mind that she has less than perfect signal inside the elevator. If she ends up needing it in an emergency, she doesn’t want to have wasted the battery. Talking about herself couldn’t really hurt either. It was true that she had been a little unfairly harsh to Percy at first. She finally relents, succumbing to the exhaustion of the day in favor of speaking freely. It was after hours anyways, what was stopping her?
“I’ve always wanted to go into law. My mother was a lawyer, so pretty early on it was my goal as well, but she was a corporate lawyer. By my final year of high school I had realized that wasn’t really my style. I’d always loved biology, so I tried out an environmental science class my first year at Columbia and fell in love with it. After that, it was pretty clear cut: BS in Conservation Biology, JD in Environmental Law.”
“Oh wow that’s so cool!” Percy says, enthusiasm once again lacing his voice. “And how did you end up at Delphi & Jones?”
“Well I got offered a job straight out of law school as a Junior Associate – a connection I was lucky enough to make in my final year at NYU. Been here ever since.”
“Wow… Columbia University and NYU SoL. That’s pretty impressive.”
“Thank you.” It’s a short response, not holding much enthusiasm, but the hostility is also absent. The silence stretches on for a couple of seconds, before Annabeth bites the bullet.
“And you? How did you end up an assistant at D&J? Aspiring lawyer?” He looks a little surprised that she asked him a question, but she has a feeling he would have ended up telling her even if she hadn’t asked.
“No, actually. It’s kind of a long story though.”
Annabeth glances at the watch on her wrist before meeting Percy’s eye, shrugging.
“Seems like we’ve got the time.” He grins broadly.
“ Well . I’m actually working while I save up for grad school; this is my final gap year. I graduated from Stony Brook three years ago, with my bachelor’s in marine sciences. I knew I wanted to work as a field biologist in conservation or something, but I also wanted to get my masters. School is expensive though, and we didn’t really come from much money, so I decided to take a couple of gap years, save up. I was working as a waiter at a bar while also interning, first at the AMCS and then the NRDC-”
“Hold on. You interned at the National Resources Defense Council ? Without a law study path?”
“Yup! They recommended it to me while I was at AMCS – that’s the Atlantic Marine Conservation Society by the way.”
“ I know .”
“Of course. Anyways, I interned under this woman Doris Morgan-”
“Holy shit you worked for Morgan?” It’s the second outburst, but Annabeth can’t find it in herself to feel embarrassed. It’s been a long day.
“Yeah, you know her?”
“Everyone who knows anything about conservation law knows who Doris Morgan is, Jackson.”
Percy grins, shrugging. “Yeah, she was pretty awesome. Anyways, I did that for a year, and then she recommended I get a job here! She knew Mr. Brunner so she sent him an email or something and he reached out with an offer and… well! Here I am!”
“Here you are… stuck in an elevator.”
He laughs loudly at that, the sound filling up the small space. Surprisingly, Annabeth finds that she doesn't mind it too much.
“Yep. At least the company’s decent.”
When he grins again, Annabeth unwillingly finds herself smiling back.
~
Over the next three weeks, Annabeth settles into her new routine of avoiding the interns to the best of her ability and slowly lowering her hackles whenever she passes by Percy’s desk to bring reports to Brunner. Whenever Piper begins to tease her by the coffee counter, she vehemently denies hiding from anyone ; it’s less believable when she spots a gaggle of interns heading her way and dodges them in a beeline to her desk, mug clutched tightly to her chest.
Percy is a different story. After the elevator incident, they fall into the easy habit of courteously ignoring each other unless the need for interaction arises, in which they are politely professional. She nods at him whenever she braves Brunner’s office to receive a case assignment, he sends her a cordial smile when he passes her on the way to the coffee counter. The animosity she had thrown at him his first day seems to have been graciously forgotten, but he doesn’t try to push his way into her life anymore than he needs to. It’s the perfect arrangement of reciprocated indifference mixed with corporate gentility – a balance that Annabeth treads with all of her coworkers (unless you count Piper and Leo, whom have both worked by her side for so long now that the time for cordiality has long since passed them by).
So as the seasons continue to stumble forward and Annabeth continues to labor the summer away, they reach mid- July in what feels like the blink of an eye. Annabeth’s 26th birthday comes and goes, Piper and Leo and a couple of other of their friends taking her out for celebratory drinks and pizza. Jason sends Piper into work with a batch of cupcakes which Piper distributes happily, the whole of the sixth floor gathering around her to sing happy birthday. Even Mr. Brunner and Ms. Ariadne join in, the former tanned and happy from her trip to the Greek coast. Percy is there as well, and he grins and sends Annabeth a thumbs up from his spot at his boss’s side. 26 feels no different from 25, and Annabeth continues on with life as always.
Late one Thursday morning, Laura comes into Annabeth’s office with a steaming cup of black coffee and a summons from Brunner. While Mr. Brunner isn’t technically Annabeth’s boss, he is her senior and has regularly taken to delivering case assignments to the midlevel associates, so the request for her to meet him in his office isn’t much of a shock.
The real shock comes when she walks into Brunner’s office with a purposeful stride and sees Percy sitting across from Brunner in one of the two leather chairs opposite his desk. Annabeth conceals the confusion on her face, sitting primly on the other chair at Brunner’s silent gesture.
Mr. Brunner is a very kind looking man, with fashionably long hair that matches his warmly brown eyes. His appearance exudes warmth and wisdom, which matches his personality exquisitely. Today, he sports a tweed suit, which would look out of fashion on anyone else, but on Mr. Brunner looks perfectly natural.
“Ah, Ms. Chase. Thank you for joining us. Well, let’s get right to business,” he says from behind his desk, pulling out a file and placing it on the desk in front of him.
“Ms. Chase, you’ve been working diligently at this firm for years, and this summer we’ve seen your potential continue along what is apparently an exponential upwards curve of diligence and excellence. The senior associates have decided it’s in our best interest as well as your own to look into potentially more … difficult case. Annabeth, put simply, we believe you could benefit greatly from finally getting some practice with a government case.” He slides the folder over, and sure enough, stamped proudly on the cover of the case file is the US EPA emblem. Annabeth could sing with delight. (Metaphorically of course. She would never sing in front of a senior associate – that would be unprofessional).
Out of the corner of her eye Annabeth sees Percy shift uncomfortably, seeming tense. It’s very rare to have an assistant sit in on a case assignment meeting, especially sitting across from him like he’s a part of the meeting himself. She still doesn't know exactly what he has to do with any of this, but Brunner is quick to address her blossoming curiosity when she shoots the boy an inquisitive glance.
“Mr. Jackson here recently assisted me in a government case of my own, and I believe it would be very beneficial for him to work on another case with a lawyer such as yourself. I believe this is the perfect opportunity for him to operate under an associate of your caliber, but more importantly, I believe this is an excellent opportunity for you to work with a non-legal collaborator. I’d like to assign him to your case, not as a legal consultant, but an assistive one. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”
Annabeth stares at him for a moment, unsure how to react. Her instincts scream no – this is just going to create a distraction. But, Annabeth agrees that Brunner does have a point. And besides, if he believes there's a need for someone to act in an assistive capacity, then she’ll need someone to step in regardless of who they are.
Weighing her options, Percy or intern , Percy seems like the much more desirable choice.
“Yes… that seems like a favorable decision.”
Beside her, Percy seems to deflate with relief. Relief in the face of what , Annabeth is not quite sure. She decides she would rather not investigate that particular mystery. Some things, she muses, are better left ignored.
~
Working with Percy proves to be much less horrific than Annabeth had anticipated. He’s actually very helpful where he needs to be, printing reports and sorting through piles of legal documentation at his post near her door.
They had walked out of Brunner’s office that first week with an unspoken truce that bridged whatever awkward air there had been between the two. To Annabeth, it was business first and foremost, and she wouldn’t be willing to participate in any distractions regardless of who was rendering them. She always took her work seriously – more serious than most – but this was a high profile case from one of the firm’s highest profile clients, and more than ever Annabeth was not going to mess this up. While it wasn’t as high stakes as some government cases (the firm would never place her on something that critical – they weren’t stupid, and no amount of diligence could replace the fact that she simply didn’t have the experience of a senior associate yet).
Consequently, Annabeth found herself once again settling into a new routine with Percy, the two orbiting each other with an ease that Annabeth preferred to ignore. He would sit on the couch by her office door, feet propped up on the coffee table (much to her initial chagrin) as he leafed through call logs or data sheets or whatever thick ream of papers Annabeth dropped unceremoniously in front of him with instructions.
As the weeks passed, the professionalism seemed to leech from his posture, and most days he ended up slouched against the armrest and back cushions of the couch, highlighter cap or pen nestled between his teeth. She would watch as he underlined documents or circled key words with a red pen, his brow furrowed in concentration. Occasionally, one of his arms would drape over the arm, and his fingers would brush against the leaves of the plant by her door, absentmindedly. He clearly didn’t notice he was doing it, but Annabeth never mentioned it. In a very strange way, it was sort of endearing.
At first, Annabeth would work behind her desk, occasionally glancing up from her computer or whatever legal work she was doing to observe him, but eventually she grew tired of standing all the time when she needed to cross reference something between the two of them, or when she lost track of which one of them had which binders, and eventually she drifted over to take up a spot on the couch herself. More days than not, Annabeth found herself sitting side by side – not touching, because the professionalism hadn’t completely evaporated, but close enough that propriety was very well damned – trudging through the seemingly endless environmental reports they had to research. Annabeth was used to the sometimes mind-numbing research that came with case preparation so she didn’t complain, and Percy was used to intern drudge work, so she was saved from any of his whining. Really, they made a rather impressive team. Percy proved himself to be quite smart and adept at navigating the basics of law – she really could see him as a lawyer if he wanted to be; alas, he did not want to be – and Annabeth guided him through the more complicated aspects of building their case.
The first week in, they had gotten into a heated discussion about kelp of all things (as it turns out, Percy is extremely stubborn when it comes to his opinions on kelp), and thus the first code of professionality is broken: she assigns him a nickname. (Secretly, the connection between him and seaweed started when she saw the vibrant green of his eyes clearly for the first time – a weird connection to make, but Annabeth was an environmental lawyer, so give her a break. Besides, Percy had learned that her favorite animal was an owl and immediately taken to calling her wise girl , so it wasn’t like she was the only slightly deranged one here).
The first meeting they had with the EPA representatives in the second floor conference room, Percy takes notes diligently at her side, and she’s relieved to see that he really isn’t completely useless. While the work is slow, it progresses anyways, and soon she’s faced with the end.
It’s a month later, as the first wisps of August settle in, and Annabeth finds herself sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table. Percy is laying sprawled out on the couch, tiredly reading over a report for what seems like the fifteenth time. Empty cups with the dredges of coffee lay abandoned, and Annabeth has just gotten off the phone with the EPA reps. She glances over at Percy, and her attention catches on him (not for the first time). She finds herself enraptured slightly, staring at the hard line of his nose and the gentle flop of hair that lays over his brow. He looks concentrated, but peaceful, and Annabeth finds herself envying him a little bit. He looks up and catches her eye, throwing her a grin.
“Take out?”
She nods half-heartedly, and he stands in unspoken agreement, stretching his limbs with a low rumble. The clock over her door tells her it’s past 9pm, and she sighs exhaustedly, flopping over onto the floor with little care for dignity anymore. There’s overtime, and then there’s overtime the final week before they have to present their case to the government officials. Annabeth is tired, dammit, and she doesn’t care if she looks a little silly splayed out on the floor of her office like a starfish with zero regard for her immaculate navy pantsuit. It’s fine, she has a lint roller stashed in the bottom drawer of her desk.
Percy picks up her phone, as he has for the past week they’ve worked overtime, and calls the Thai place down the street, dutifully reciting their order. He saunters back over to her, flopping down on the floor next to her instead of using the couch. Annabeth is glad that the rest of the office is gone – they must look incredibly silly.
(Secretly, she’s really glad because she gets to share the quiet peace with Percy – and no one else. Lying on the carpet next to him, with only the shining lamp light illuminating her office, it’s as if they are the only two people in the world. New York City bustles on the outside, but to Annabeth, none of that is important. She knows that in the books and movies, there’s a certain word the heroines use to describe that feeling. Annabeth dutifully does not think about that at all).
“Thai’s on its way.”
“Mmmrmrrhghrfg.”
“It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Ddyougemycurry?”
“Yep, chicken phanaeng.”
“Hrmsngh.”
They lie side by side in silence for a few moments. Percy rolls his head on his neck to face her, sea green eyes meeting stormy gray.
“Hey wise girl?”
“Wassup?”
“What happens after this is over?”
She startles a little bit at that, sitting up to look at him with the full force of her confusion on her face. He stays lying down, and she has to look down at him.
“What?”
“Like… I know we’re not friends but…” he trails off, and Annabeth’s frown deepens.
“You idiot. Of course you’re my friend, seaweed brain.”
His answering grin is dazzling – Annabeth worries that if he never stopped smiling, she would never look away.
“Fantastic! How would you feel about coming with me to get food from an actual restaurant? Next week? It’s my birthday and-”
“Seaweed Brain, I would be honored to grace you and whichever establishment you choose – no matter how poor your taste – with my presence.”
They dissolve into laughter, and don’t stop until the food arrives. They eat in the sort of companionable silence that occurs when good friends are eating even better food. Annabeth wonders at how her life has come to this, how she’s ended up here with this gloriously confusing bright star of a man, but then he cracks a joke and the curry dibbling down his face melts away any remaining thoughts she had.
The paperwork lays forgotten on the coffee table.
~
The case comes and goes, and soon the summer is coming to the end (carrying away the interns – but graciously not Percy), and Annabeth and Percy are falling back into their respective routines of dealing with their own spheres. Annabeth takes on new cases and Percy takes back the load of administrative tasks Brunner dishes out, and they don’t stay at work until ten eating curry on her office floor anymore. It sort of makes Annabeth sad, but her sleep schedule rejoices.
Not everything returns to the way it was, though. Mainly, the two are no longer ignoring each other in polite indifference. Annabeth stops by his desk throughout the day, and he pops in whenever her door is open and he feels so inclined, and the two quip at each other over cups of coffee at the counter. The rest of the office seems to observe them with knowing glints in their eyes, but Annabeth can’t discern what their glances know for the life of her.
(Or maybe she can, but she just doesn’t want to).
Working side by side for a month leaves them knowing quite a lot about each other, so naturally coffee preferences are not left out. Annabeth takes to preparing him a cup whenever she goes for a refill, just as he does, and soon scheduled coffee visits are built into their days.
The way that Annabeth and Percy revolve around each other is different to any other friendship Annabeth has. They complain and take jabs and mercilessly tease each other, sometimes resulting in vehement arguments that lack real heat but do not lack significance, and people will gawk at them not-so-subtly as they engage in verbal spar that flits by at break-neck speed. Half of the time, an insider couldn’t even understand half of the things they say, so deeply drenched in inside jokes and personal stories that no one else could begin to untangle what any of it means. They leave each other sticky notes and insults jotted on tactfully placed legal pads, and Piper makes a handful of married-couple jokes that, just like a million other things, Annabeth ignores.
Seasons pass, and Annabeth and Percy grow somehow closer still. Their push and pull is gravitational, as summer tumbles into autumn and then autumn slithers into winter. The December monthly review meeting is accompanied by an icy gray sky that leaves Annabeth’s cheeks tinged pink whenever she traverses from her apartment to the taxi to the firm. Percy has taken to wearing an array of brightly colored scarves that match the rest of his vibrantly colored existence and stand out starkly against Annabeth and her dark suits and leather gloves.
Why anyone would feel the need to own three separate periwinkle scarves, Annabeth cannot fathom, and yet, here they are.
For the firm Christmas party, Percy forces her into a gaudy, terrible, tinsel covered nightmare of a sweater, and she forces a pair of light up antlers on his head (forces is a strong word – he takes them willingly, but she likes to feel that she has the upper hand so he pretends to struggle).
As they sip firm-sponsored, non-alcoholic punch next to each other and watch Piper and Leo argue over the contents of a Christmas cracker, Annabeth feels a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach as the realization dawns on her. It’s December already. Somehow, two seasons have passed her by, and she has been so swept up in everything that she hadn’t even realized the year was ending.
This won’t last forever, a voice in her head says. She doesn’t want to think about it, so she doesn’t. She can’t think about it, because that would make her spiral, and a spiraling Annabeth is never a good thing. Instead, she does what she does best. She bottles up the feeling in a pristine glass bottle with a little rubber stopper, and then she places it on a shelf next to all of the other bottled-up feelings she’s housed in her chest, and then she dutifully ignores it where it will gather dust, forgotten.
That’s the thing about hiding your feelings away from anyone with a pulse, even yourself.
Someday, those pristine little glass bottles are bound to shatter. And when one clay pot explodes in the kiln, it takes the whole rest of them with it.
~
Christmas is an uneventful time; Percy goes home to his mother’s house and Piper flies to Los Angeles with Jason, and Leo heads back to Texas.
Annabeth stays in New York, in her apartment which once felt like home, and now feels coldly empty. Percy had offered for her to come with him to his mom’s, but she had declined. The intrusion would have felt a little too much like she was crossing a line – a dangerous line into territory she had been toeing but was too much of a coward to be brave.
Her father invites her back to the Virginia home, but it’s half-hearted and she knows he doesn’t actually want her there. Helen and the boys are enough of a family for him, and she doesn’t want to spoil their Christmas. From her mother: radio silence. As much as Annabeth had expected.
She spends the day wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, watching The Muppet Christmas Carol and drinking hot chocolate. She snacks on a bag of mini candy-canes, allowing for one cheat day: Christmas is always a lonely affair. She may as well enjoy it as best she can.
Night begins to fall, and she pulls herself up from the couch to reheat the pasta Piper left her in a cheery Christmas Pyrex. At some point, the movie switches to Elf, and the hot chocolate switches to red wine. She’s two glasses in and Buddy is building a rocking horse when the buzzer by her door startles her from draining the last few drops in her glass. She glances confusedly at the clock, which reads just past ten, then down at her pajamas. Deciding that two glasses is far too many to have any sense of dignity left – never mind that it’s past nine and therefore well into PJ territory – Annabeth drags herself up from the couch without bothering to shed the fuzzy blanket or the wine glass. She approaches the door cautiously, but filled with curiosity. Surely, nothing too threatening could make it past the doorman and up four floors to her apartment.
Normally, Annabeth would be much more careful, but she’s sleepy and everything is wine-hazy, and so she doesn’t even peek from the peephole before swinging the door open. She is met with the startling sight of Percy Jackson – dashing in all his dark-haired, snow dusted, sweater-clad glory.
Annabeth nearly drops her glass.
~
Annabeth would consider Percy a good friend. Really, she would. Perhaps even a close friend.
However, never in a million years did she ever think he would be inside her apartment. They may be close friends, but they are not that close. Regardless of whatever preconceived notions Annabeth has contrived regarding her and Percy’s relationship, he’s standing in her doorway holding a brightly colored metal tin and sporting his usual goofy grin, and Annabeth feels slightly too tipsy to manage this situation with the proper dignity and professionalism that she needs to. So, she lets him in.
“What… are you doing here?”
Her voice comes out conveying all of her stupefied confusion, but is thankfully empty of any hostility; they’ve moved well past that point in their history, but sometimes wine can make one act uncharacteristically. Percy doesn’t pay her much mind, unlacing his boots (because of course he owns snow boots) and hanging his scarf (green to match his sweater) on the hook by her front door like it belongs there. He drifts into her kitchen on wool-clad feet, as if he’s done this dance a million times and it’s only natural for him to be here. She squeaks in alarm when he brushes past her, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care.
“Well, I was with my mom and step-dad eating Christmas dinner, and my mom asked where you were since I had asked about you possibly coming – which you know of course because you so graciously declined my offer. Anyways I told her you were… well I didn’t exactly say you were spending Christmas alone but I did say something of the sort and my mother sort of… well. She thought perhaps she’d send me over with some of her cookies and… here I am?” he says in a carelessly curated rush of words, holding up the tin. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable though; simply out of breath. Annabeth shuffles over in her silk pajamas and accepts the tin, setting her glass on the kitchen island to pry the tin open with eager fingers.
She has a soft spot for home-baked goods, what can she say?
He grins, delighted, when she bites into the head of a goofy-looking gingerbread man and practically melts to the floor. It’s delicious .
“Your mom is a saint .”
“I made that one actually.”
She looks down at the misshapen blob of his limbs and decides yes, that is actually quite feasible. Percy glances around her apartment while she helps herself to the cookies (and then a second, and maybe a third), taking it all in. His sweeping eyes are the only sign that this is his first time here – the rest of his posture displays a frankly enviable ease.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“A glass of whatever you’re drinking would be fantastic.”
And this is how Annabeth ends up curled on her couch next to her platonic-coworker-buddy, wearing nothing but her pajamas and a blanket, sipping red wine and watching Will Ferrell make a fool of himself. In terms of Christmas nights, this is one of Annabeth’s better ones.
~
December comes and goes, with Piper throwing a blow out party for New Year’s Eve in her top floor Upper East Side penthouse (she may be inclined to refuse pity-handouts from her father, but when it came to housing, she didn’t feel too guilty about accepting his generous offer to cover the cost. If her movie-star absentee father felt the need to try and win her favor with money, well then she would accept the money and refuse the favor and it was his fault if he kept it up. She had told Annabeth all of this over dinner one night – Annabeth admired her craftiness if nothing else).
The party was fine. Fun, even. After a few hours of thumping music and shouted conversation, Annabeth excused herself to sit out on the balcony and look out at her beloved city. When the clock hit midnight, she heard the cheers and watched the fireworks over the blackened sky. She didn’t feel the need to be trapped within the crowd of bodies inside – it was much nicer out here anyways.
Percy found her after a few minutes went by, and they shared a bottle of beer in companionable silence, watching their city rejoice below them.
In terms of New Year’s Eves, this is one of Annabeth’s better ones.
~
Time passes in the way it tends to when one is enjoying their life; slow in the moment but gone in the blink of an eye. Annabeth’s schedule stays the same as it always has, but something feels different. Everything seems tinged in a golden-hazy glow that accompanies good times – sacred in their beauty but accompanied with the terrifying knowledge that they will soon just be memories. In some ways, Annabeth has never been more in love with her life. In some ways, she’s never been more scared of it.
~
July 3rd. One year after Annabeth Chase met Percy Jackson on that fateful June morning. The new batch of summer interns have been introduced – a day that left Percy cackling at Annabeth’s strained expressions.
Annabeth wakes up at 6:00am, showers and starts her breakfast. She dresses in a powder blue pantsuit and eats her toast (spread with Sally Jackson’s ham-canned strawberry preserves), pulls herself into some semblance of ready and heads out the door with her brief case and her coat. Everything is the same, so much so that she forgets to feel any sort of impending doom. She arrives in her office at 7:30 and it all feels so so normal. She does not realize that in a few short hours, her whole life will be pulled out from under her feet. But then again, people rarely ever know when tragedy is about to befall them.
~
Annabeth gets distracted by an emergency meeting that comes up with the EDF and she gets pulled into a conference call that has her door shut for the better part of the morning. When she finally gets out of it, she’s in dire need of caffeine. She trudges over to the coffee counter like a zombie awakening from a deep slumber.
Almost out of habit, she pours two cups of coffee, keeping hers black and pouring three sugars one cream into the other. In her office, she places hers on her desk, then picks up the stack of reports she needs Piper to go over. She hands them to Laura when she passes, and then navigates through the desks to the back of the room where she knows Percy’s desk awaits outside of Brunner’s office.
The sight she is greeted with makes her heart still almost at once. The sleeves of his white button down are rolled up on his forearms, exposing them as they work. This is, contrary to popular belief, not the sight that stills her heart. No, the sight that sends a chill down her spine and her mind into a panic is the work he’s doing. He’s packing. A box that is far too full sits on his desk, which is far too empty.
“Percy.” It’s a statement, not a question, but Annabeth cannot deny the uncertainty that laces her voice. He looks up, and an expression crosses his face. One could almost call it guilt.
The two stare at each other, neither saying anything. It almost feels like the whole office has gone silent, collectively holding their breaths. He speaks first. The gentle finality in his voice feels like a knife slid delicately between her ribs where it pierces her heart.
“It was always a temporary position.”
“I know.”
“I always had plans. I- I have to finish grad school, it’s always been my plan. Law wasn’t… law wasn’t ever the plan.”
Annabeth cannot bear to look at him any longer. “I know.”
“I was always going to leave.”
Annabeth cannot bear to hear this any longer.
She nods, stiffly. She turns away, the second cup of coffee forgotten in her white-fingered grip.
She looks down at it, staring into the swirling milky surface. It’s much too sweet- she’ll never drink it. She turns back towards Percy, refusing to make eye contact, and sets it down on his now empty desk. Then, valiantly keeping it together, she spins and marches away to her office where she snaps the door shut behind her. No one follows her in.
Twenty minutes later, she stands at the floor length windows in her office that overlook the exit, and six floors down she watches as a tiny pinprick of a man with a shock of familiar black curls leaves the doors. He holds a cardboard box in his arms. He doesn’t look up, and she watches him go with a tight feeling in her chest that she is unwilling to investigate.
It feels uncomfortably close to heartbreak.