Work Text:
Percy had a lot of experience with stealth. He'd snuck out of his rooms on boarding schools, tiptoed around the house while Gabe was asleep on the couch and snuck up on monsters on more than one occasion. With that experience under his belt, stealing a cookie from the kitchen should be easy work.
"Wait for them to cool," Sally said, while he approached behind her.
Being quiet didn't work, but Percy still managed to be fast enough to grab one cookie from the tray before she swatted his hand with the dish towel.
"I've handled worse than a hot cookie," he bragged, shoving one inside his mouth and his eyes immediately started to water. Turns out, they were hot.
Sally was looking at him, half annoyed and half amused while he struggled to chew, but Percy was saved by her phone ringing in the living room. His mother went to answer it and he immediately drank some water to soothe the burning on his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Lesson learned, Percy grabbed another cookie and started to blow on it before taking a bite.
"It was for you," his mom said, walking back to the kitchen. Immediately, his body tensed, shoulders coming up to his ears.
"Is it from Camp?"
Once upon a time, not very long ago, a call from Camp Half Blood would put him in good spirits. It was one of his favorite places in the world, where his best friends were. It was a place where he could be with his fellow demigods and not feel like a freak, for a change.
Since last year, though…
"It was Rachel," his mother answered.
"Oh," Percy's shoulders dropped and he tried not to look too relieved. Ignoring Sally's knowing look, he grabbed another cookie. "What did she want?"
The usual, apparently. Rachel mostly called to hang out — study together for a test, group project, random art or pottery classes she signed them up to, go to the mall or, more frequently, to the skate park in the neighborhood.
Percy wasn't that embarrassed to admit he called just as often. To avoid attracting monsters, he asked his mom to shoot her a text agreeing on a spot for them to meet. The nearer it got to his sixteenth birthday, the more chaotic things got at Camp, the more he felt the need to just do something normal for once instead of facing the forlorn, resentful expressions of his half-blood friends.
One friend in particular.
"Don't let Paul eat all the cookies," Percy told her, stealing another one and going to his room to grab his skateboard.
"At this rate, there's going to be none left when he gets home," she answered.
Percy hadn't been too thrilled about the idea of Paul living with them at first. Sally seemed happy, though, so he held his tongue and kept vigil. Little by little, Paul had chipped at his walls by letting Percy drive the Prius, helping him with english homework or getting them tickets to see a Knicks game. Even so, when Paul approached Percy last year and told him about his intentions to marry his mother, Percy wasn't sure of how to feel. But there was a war coming, there was a very real possibility of him dying, and the idea of leaving his mother alone in her grief was bad enough that he didn't make a fuss about it.
The downside was having to share his cookies. Paul had a sweet tooth to rival Percy's. So he grabbed another one on his way out to meet Rachel, for good measure.
~~~
It was hot like Satan's armpit outside, but that didn't stop the park from being full. Percy tugged at his shirt to unglue it from his back and waited for the ancient vending machine to cooperate.
He kicked it once, then bent down to collect his prizes: two cans of Dr. Pepper and two packs of M&Ms. Percy pressed the cool can against the new scrap on his chin — courtesy of a failed attempt to do a boardslide — and walked back to where Rachel was waiting for him.
The condensation didn't help to heal his bruise. After his first quest a million years ago, Annabeth had convinced him to try and figure out the healing limits different types of water had on him. He'd followed her to the same woods Luke later would lure him in to kill him, her ponytail swishing and faded Camp shirt a stark contrast with the greenery around them.
She had a notepad. One look at it and Percy was pleased to know Annabeth was just as bad at spelling as him. She'd treated him like a science experiment, and he'd indulged her even as he complained often and loudly. At the end of that week, they had a verdict — still water from bottles and fountains couldn't heal him, running water was better, but slow; rivers and lakes did the trick but not as fast and effectively as the sea. The closer it was to his father's domains, the better for him.
Annabeth had wondered, wearing her thinking face and the neutral, detached tone of a curious scientist, if he could regrow a whole limb if he soaked up under the sea long enough, and Percy promptly shut the experiment down before she felt tempted to test it.
She almost did sever one of his limbs last week when they sparred. But there was none of the playfulness in her eyes, only an anger and resentment he didn't know how to fix.
Percy was so distracted on his way back that he almost tripped over Rachel's roller skaters. She had found the shade of an outdoor to sit under, and was now putting on her regular shoes. He stepped over her legs and sat on his skateboard, leaning his back against the grid surrounding the park.
He could still hear the other teens talking to each other, the sounds of tiny wheels against the ramps, an eventual clap or groan when someone tried a trick. Not far from them, in the grass, there was a group passing a blunt.
Percy gave Rachel one of the cans and stretched his legs in front of him, so his beat up blue Vans were right beside her white All Stars.
She was better dressed to the scorching heat than he was. Her protective gear — a helmet, elbow pad and knee pad — were now shoved inside her backpack. She was wearing shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt that showed her black top underneath and her freckled arms. Her fiery hair was too wild to be contained by hair tie, despite her efforts, so a few wild curls had escaped her loose braid and she looked pretty like a million golden drachmas.
Percy, meanwhile, was wearing pants and a long sleeve. He felt self-conscious about showing his arms in public ever since the incident on Mount St Helens last year left him with burn scars. He pulled the sleeves up to his elbows now — Rachel knew about the scars already, and she wouldn't ask any prying questions.
"Any trouble with the vending machine?" she asked, opening her soda can.
"Always. That thing was probably here around the Jurassic period."
"What do you think the T-Rex' drink of choice was?" Rachel titled the can for a big sip.
"Not sodas, that's for sure. Couldn't grab'em and reach his mouth with those tiny arms."
The mental image filled his mind, and apparently Rachel's as well, because she snorted soda through her nose when she laughed, which prompted a laugh of his own.
Rachel was easy to be around. He didn't have to constantly watch what he says, or avoid certain topics, and their conversation didn't end in screaming matches. If Rachel was upset, or angry, or wanted anything, she just let him know.
Still, when she reached for the M&M on his lap and opened the pack, habit made him pick out the yellow ones to trade for her blues just to see her popping them in her mouth, he thought oh yeah, wrong girl. Then felt like the biggest jerk on earth.
"So," she started, turning to face him and smiling. "About that invitation."
"Oh… right."
A weekend in the Caribbean. Gorgeous seas, fancy restaurants, three days of visiting places and doing stuff his family was too poor to even dream about.
"Percy," Rachel said, detecting the lack of excitement in his answer. "I know the timing is bad. But it’s always bad for you, right?"
"But right now is like, extra bad timing. It's not that I don't want to go, it's just—"
"The war."
He nodded, shaking his pack of M&Ms to see if there was any blue left. There was, but it didn't cheer him up.
"Just think about it, okay? We don’t leave for a couple of days. My dad …" she trailed off. Percy had met the man a few times, and for all his cutthroat business man attitude, he seemed to have no idea of what to do with his daughter.
"Is he giving you a hard time?"
She shook her head and told him about her dad's attempt of being nice to get her to attend the fancy school her mother had gone to. Letting Percy tag along was bribery.
"And it would be so much better if you were with us. Dad is always working, even on vacation, and mom will spend the whole day at the spa. I'll basically be alone the whole time. Besides, there's… there's something I wanted to talk about."
Rachel being hesitant and choosing words was unusual enough to catch his attention. Percy pushed the skateboard aside and sat on the floor, scooting nearer.
"I'm here now. Whatever it is, you can tell me."
She bit her lip and looked up. Her green eyes were the color of fresh grass in the spring, but for a second Percy thought they were almost glowing. Then she blinked, and the illusion was gone.
"Look, just forget it for now. Let’s pretend we’re a couple of normal people. We’re hanging out at the park, and it’s nice to be together."
Percy could tell that there was still something bothering her, but let it go for now.
"Okay. Just a normal afternoon and two normal people."
"And so … hypothetically, if these two people liked each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl, huh?"
"Oh …" Percy felt like one of Apollo’s sacred cows — slow, dumb and bright red. "Um …"
He shut up. Rachel was leaning closer, slowly, like she thought she might scare him off with sudden movements. Even he knew what was going to happen next, and his heart was pounding by the time Rachel pressed her lips to his. Hesitant at first, then more firmly when he didn't pull away. She cupped his face, careful to avoid the scrap on his chin, and for a moment, it felt good.
Then he remembered being in a similar situation, the hot core of a volcano around him and the taste of ash in his mouth.
Percy pulled away, lowering her hands.
"Rachel…" he didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't know why he pulled away, or why he kissed her in the first place. Whatever he was going to do next, he was interrupted by a shadow moving above them.
He jumped to his feet, uncapping Riptide and standing between Rachel and the dark mass that landed suddenly in front of them. The gust of wind forced him to back up a few steps.
Hey, boss. You're not planning on using this sword on me, are you? Put that away.
Percy relaxed, lowering his sword when he recognized the pegasus. The stoners on the other side of the park stared, and Percy could only guess what they were seeing. Maybe they thought it was a really weird trip.
"Blackjack, what are you— oh." Percy said, noticing who was riding his back.
Charles Beckendorf was wearing dark camo pants, a bronze breastplate, and a huge backpack that was probably filled to the brim with greek fire explosives. One look at him and the war hammer at his side, and Percy knew his little escapade was over.
"Sup, Percy."
"Is it time?"
He nodded and looked at Rachel, who also got up. "‘Oh, hey. I’m Beckendorf. You must be Rachel. Percy’s told me … uh, I mean he mentioned you."
She raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she asked, petting Blackjack, who happily nuzzled her hand. "So I guess you guys have to go save the world now."
"Pretty much," Beckendorf agreed, then glanced at Percy, who promptly avoided his eyes to look helplessly at Rachel. She seemed… resigned would be the word for it. Percy was half grateful and half feeling guilty for leaving her after what had just happened, but he couldn't delay this.
"We'll talk later, okay? Then you can tell me… whatever it is you wanted to tell."
She nodded, then stepped back to give Blackjack some space to spread his wings.
Percy pocketed Riptide and kicked the back of his skateboard, making it jump to his hands. He handed it out to her sheepishly.
"Can you take care of this for me? And maybe tell my mom—"
"I’ll tell her," she said, taking the skateboard from him. "I’m sure she’s used to it anyway."
"Thanks."
"Good luck," Rachel said, kissing his cheek. Her face was hard to read, for once, but she braved a smile. "Get going, half-blood. Go kill some monsters for me."
Percy ignored Beckendorf's raised eyebrows when he accepted his hand to mount Blackjack. The backpack sat between them, and he made sure not to press too hard and accidentally trigger any of the explosives. They were probably not ready, but you could never be too careful with greek fire.
He looked down, and saw Rachel watching them leave, her figure getting smaller and smaller and they flew away.
"Soooo…" Beckendorf started. "I’m guessing you don’t want me to mention that little scene to Annabeth."
"Oh, gods,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t even think about it."
"Are you two dating now?"
"Just friends," Percy answered, knowing full well he had seen Rachel and Percy kissing before he landed.
"Do you have a habit of kissing all of your friends? Let me warn you, I'm already taken."
He stared at the back of Beckendorf's head in stunned silence until he looked back and laughed at Percy's expression. He chuckled and shrugged apologetically.
"Just something Silena told me."
His face felt hot despite the wind. So Annabeth had told Silena about the kiss. What the fuck did that mean?
"I didn't even know if that actually happened, man! I almost died five seconds after, I thought it was maybe a fever dream or something."
Especially taking into account the way Annabeth treated him during the rest of that summer. He didn't dare to bring that up and neither did she… with him, at least.
"Ah, so you dream of kissing her?"
Percy punched his friend in the shoulder. "I need you to shut up about this, actually. Forever."
Beckendorf laughed and shook his head. "Whatever you say, man. I'll take this secret to my grave."
And with that, they soared over the Atlantic, towards the tiny figure of a cruise ship that appeared on the horizon.