Despite the fact that Annabeth couldn't have spent more than a half an hour upstairs in her office, the reporters were gone by the time she stepped outside again, her spine straight with furious determination. She blinked as harsh sunlight hit her eyes, faltering just bit as she took in the empty sidewalk before her. She'd been fully prepared to run the media gauntlet again — maybe even answer a few questions and set the record straight if it got them to leave her alone — but she'd never dreamed they'd just be gone when she got downstairs.
Annabeth knew the press and the threat of the Eastman & Ellis legal team wouldn't have been enough to make them go totally away; if that was the case, there'd still be a bank of cameras blinking at her from across the street where they couldn't get in trouble. Maybe they'd be called to some other breaking news event? She could only hope it was something dramatic like monster attack in the suburbs. That would definitely kick any coverage of that stupid fight off the news networks for good.
She advanced a few cautious steps and then realized that the sidewalk wasn't as empty as she'd thought.
A man with dark, wavy hair stood a few feet away, one elbow propped on a parking meter, staring up at the third floor windows where the Eastman & Ellis logo was etched in gold. The clatter of her heels on the pavement and the slam of the door behind her caught his attention. His glass green eyes swung her way and her heart skipped a beat.
Percy.
Sweet Athena. The Fates were not being kind to her today.
After last night, it was almost surreal to see him just hanging out like he was a normal guy instead of the most feared man in New Rome. Anyone who gave him a second glance wouldn't be fooled, however. He cut just as impressive of a figure in a dark blue sweater and tailored jeans as he did in his armor, and his air of authority was no less powerful off the battlefield.
Finding the devil of New Rome lurking outside her place of work should've frightened her. Instead, it just pissed her off. Percy Jackson had already done enough to ruin her carefully built life in the last 24 hours. For all she knew, he'd had been the one to leak that video of their fight. If he'd just gotten off the field when she told him to; if he hadn't been such an asshole and insulted Annabeth and her mother; if the people in this city weren't so fucking determined to be terrified of his every move. If… if…
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, striding over to him. It occurred to her, belatedly, that he might've come for revenge, as both Jason and Eastman had all but promised he would. He'd be in for a surprise if he was. "If you want a re-match, you picked the wrong day for it, buddy."
Percy straightened as she approached. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, baring his tan forearms in that effortlessly attractive way men got away with all the time. She noticed that under his sweater, he wore a striped dress shirt and slim black tie — a fucking tie! Annabeth didn't give a shit what Jason had to say; no one wore a tie when they came calling for revenge.
"Maybe in a few days, once the bruises you gave me have healed up," he said, offering her a small smirk. "How are your ribs, by the way?"
Annabeth growled. That was a classic power move, reminding her that she had taken the most serious injuries — both to her body and pride. If anyone should be asking for a rematch, it should be her.
"Better than ever," she spat. "Too bad you didn't get here earlier — there was a whole pack of reporters that would've been happy to air your gloating."
Percy's brow furrowed slightly at her antagonistic tone. He couldn't have expected her to play nice after how this whole thing had blown up, could he?
"If I was here to gloat, I wouldn't have cleared the cameras off for you."
"What?" That brought Annabeth up short. He had sent the press away? He was certainly powerful enough to hold enough sway over the press, but why would he do that? For her?
"Well, not me, exactly. My brother saw you being harassed on TV earlier and wanted to do something about it," Percy explained easily. "Apparently, you're his new hero for kicking my ass."
Di immortales, there were two sons of Neptune running around New Rome? Annabeth knew she hadn't been paying close enough attention to the rumors about Percy Jackson, but she would've remembered that one if someone had bothered to tell her.
"Brother?"
"Half-brother, anyway. Tyson's a cyclops. Chasing off reporters is his favorite thing after peanut butter and horses. He's a one-man Brute Squad. Very effective if you don't want to deal with paparazzi everywhere you go."
"A cyclops," Annabeth repeated, horrified. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to find a 10-foot monstrosity hovering at her back, leering down at her like she was demigod-sized Big Mac. "You own a cyclops and you brought him here? You must be joking."
Percy's shoulders tensed, his mood visibly darkening, and when he spoke, there was a sharp, warning edge to his voice, "Tyson's not my pet. He's a person, just like you or me; a person who wanted to do you a favor, by the way. I came along at his suggestion, because he thought my presence would give the vultures a good reason to leave you alone at work."
Annabeth couldn't believe this. He admitted he let an actual monster run loose on crowded city streets, sicced it on people for fun, and somehow, she was the bad person for being bothered by it?
A scathing retort waited on the tip of her tongue, but a flash of emotion in Percy's eyes held her back.
Was he… disappointed in her? For what? Not getting down on bended knee and thanking him for his benevolence? She hadn't asked for anyone to deal with reporters, just like she hadn't asked for any of this attention in the first place. She'd just wanted a spar. It was his groupies and his reputation that had caused this mess.
Or, maybe, suggested that obnoxious little voice in the back of her mind, he'd hoped you wouldn't act like a bigoted asshole when he told you about his brother.
That thought made her pause. Why would he think something like that about her? She didn't carry any more enlightened views on the subject of monster rights than the average demigod just because she was a daughter of Athena. In fact, Annabeth tended to cling to her biases on that subject more firmly than anyone else she knew.
But Percy Jackson didn't know that. All he knew about her was that she hadn't been afraid to pick a fight with him — she hadn't been afraid of him, period. She'd told him she didn't care who he was yesterday. Had he thought that would attitude would naturally extend to his cyclops brother?
That was just stupid. It was different with Percy. He was a demigod, not a monster. Though...
You picked a fight with the son of Neptune and didn't think there'd be consequences?
Percy Jackson is dangerous.
Avoid the son of Neptune. At all costs.
Though she wasn't sure if many people in this city knew the difference any more. If the son of Neptune himself even knew.
Annabeth exhaled heavily. Percy had a point. He and his… brother had done her a huge favor. She could be the bigger person, the better person he clearly thought she was, and let this particular argument go.
"Sorry," she said, forcing out the apology. "The only cyclopes I've met have only been interested in eating me or my friends. But I do appreciate the gesture. Is, um, Tyson still around?"
Percy's expression told her she wasn't doing a good job of holding back her anxiety and that he didn't find her apology particularly sincere, but he seemed willing to let it go. His shoulders already held less tension.
"No, he had to head off to the forges. He left me in charge of making sure none of them came back for a good while," he said. "I was thinking about going up to say hello, but it can be… alarming when I show up somewhere unannounced."
Thank Athena he hadn't. Eastman probably would've had a coronary if the son of Neptune himself had appeared in the lobby looking for her this morning.
It must be so exhausting for him, she realized, to always have to warn people before he went somewhere. What she'd experienced on the train was probably just a fraction of what Percy went through on a daily basis. Even now, on the street, Annabeth had noticed that people passing by gave him a wide berth and kept their eyes downcast. It'd be one thing if his cyclops was still hanging around, but Percy wasn't doing anything but talking to her.
"Are you on your lunch break?" he continued, glancing at his watch. "Seems a bit early for that."
A flush crawled up on Annabeth's cheeks. "No, I… I apparently wasn't supposed to come in today. My boss put me on leave after he saw the video." She let out a humorless laugh and ran a hand through her hair. "He all but fired me, actually. I'm sure that'll be coming once everything calms down."
Eastman had been right about one thing — she really should've known better. She couldn't keep deflecting the blame on to Percy. He would've left her alone if she hadn't been such an asshole to him.
Gods, what was she going to do if she was fired? She'd worked so hard for that fellowship. It'd been proof that she was ready to make something of her life again, that people saw her as something other than a fuck up who had wasted her potential. Jason's disappointment would be unbearable.
No, that couldn't happen. She'd think of something to convince the board to keep her on.
Percy's face turned stony and his eyes darted up to the third floor windows again. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
Oh, that was exactly what she didn't need.
"Did I ask you to say something?" she snapped. "I can save my job without you going in and — and snarling at people!"
It took a long moment for Percy to drag his gaze away from the windows. His hard, unsettling expression barely shifted as he arched eyebrow at her.
"Snarling?"
"I assume that's what you do when you intimidate people — which, again, I don't need your help with. I'm plenty intimidating on my own."
"Yeah, you are. But if you need someone to stand behind you and snarl for extra effect…" He shrugged. "I'm available."
Was it just her imagination or had Percy's expression softened some? No, that was definitely amusement that was causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
Why was he being so nice to her? Annabeth had been rude to him for the get-go and was still being a jerk, even after she'd been warned not to. She'd picked a fight that had caused unwelcome attention to be directed at both them. Percy was probably used to it, but it still had to be annoying. He should be snarling at her, not offering to do it to Eastman & Ellis' board of directors.
"Percy," she said a little wearily. "Why did you really come here?"
He rocked back on his heels and then stepped forward, into Annabeth's personal space. Annabeth prepared to feel threatened by his nearness; instead, it conjured up the echo of the delicious tension that had lingered between them at the end of their fight. She shivered, remembering the heat the simple touch of his hand had sparked in her.
"Like I said yesterday," he said. "I'm curious. I want to know more about you."
"Me?" Annabeth scoffed. "Why would you want…"
She trailed off as she registered the open, wanting expression on Percy's face. The heat of it threatened to set her every nerve on fire and melt her bones; she'd never had anyone look at her with such intensity before. There was no mistaking his intent.
Percy Jackson wanted her — Annabeth Chase, a mouthy, upstart daughter of Athena.
Annabeth hadn't expected this. It was one thing for her to dream about what the son of Neptune's lips would feel like against hers or how soft his hair would feel under her fingers, to imagine what'd be like to feel his body move against hers, not in a brutal fight, but surging towards mutual pleasure instead. She'd known, instinctively, that those thoughts would never manifest into anything real. He was stratospherically out of her reach.
And yet, here he stood, looking as if he'd had plenty of his own dreams he wanted to make a reality.
It didn't make any sense. She was nothing special.
"Why me?" she asked again. "You could have any woman in this city."
"I could," he said. "But I'd rather get a coffee with a woman who isn't afraid of me. The cowering makes it hard to have a decent conversation."
"You don't exactly strike me as a coffee date kind of guy."
"Us sons of Neptune have all sort of layers. You know, like onions."
Annabeth let out a laugh in spite of herself. "Seriously? Did you just quote Shrek at me?"
Percy's answering smile nearly took her breath away. Sweet Athena, he had dimples.
"I was kinda hoping you'd miss the reference. Now I just look like a dork," he replied dryly. "There's a pretty good local shop a few blocks away. You look like you need a pick me up after your shitty morning. How 'bout it?"
She wondered, briefly, what would happen if she said no. Percy seemed more relaxed, more human, today, but she hadn't forgotten those flashes of anger she'd glimpsed or all that unnatural power crawling under his skin. No probably wasn't a word he was used to hearing.
Would he accept it with a shrug of his broad shoulders and a casual, "No big deal," before moving on with the rest of his life? Or would he ignore it, persisting and escalating his advances? He'd already shown up to her work. What was to stop him — or his monster minions — from showing up at her apartment and continuing to harass her?
He said he wanted a woman who wasn't afraid of him. Did he want one who would defy him, too?
Annabeth wasn't going to say no — at least, not yet. She was just as curious about Percy Jackson as he was about her. But it was something worth considering, a possibility she shouldn't dismiss out of hand. She'd been fooled once by a man who could hide his true self and it'd nearly destroyed her; she couldn't let that happen again.
"A cup of coffee sounds lovely," she said, offering him a tentative smile. She gestured to the sidewalk ahead of them. "Lead the way, Jackson."
+
A daughter of Athena and a son of Neptune walk to a coffee shop.
It sounded like the beginning of one of the Stolls' dumb jokes, an improbable scenario Annabeth would've rolled her eyes at and walked away before she heard the ending. Like she'd ever have anything to do with any child of Poseidon.
And yet, here she was. Strolling through downtown New Rome on a perfectly sunny morning, the son of Neptune himself at her side and her guard coming down with every step they took.
It should have been awkward.
They were two people from different walks of life who, by all rights, were destined to be rivals, no matter how they met. There should have been uncomfortable silences and more flares of temper on both sides. The conversation should have been stilted and unsure, full of missteps and backtracking. It should have been anything but nice.
And maybe it would have been, if she'd been with someone other than Percy Jackson.
Annabeth didn't understand how it could be so easy with him. She barely knew him — she certainly didn't trust him — and yet, it just felt right to have Percy at her side. Their mutual attraction seemed like the obvious culprit behind the feeling, but there was more to it than that. They'd had a connection on the sparring field too, moments where they had acted as one or reacted to the other without even thinking, as if they'd been fighting together for ages.
It was as if there had always been a spot carved out for him at Annabeth's side, and she would have never noticed the emptiness without his broad shoulders filling it in.
Gods, she was never this sappy. What was this man doing to her?
"So, are you an architect?" Percy asked, nodding back toward the Eastman & Ellis building behind them. "That's what your firm does, right? Designs buildings?"
"Among other things," she replied, inordinately pleased that he had guessed right on the first time. Usually when she told people who she worked for, they asked if she was in the marketing or PR department. "But yes, I'm an architect. I specialize in urban design with an emphasis on preserving or enhancing historic community features. If you want to know a useless fact about an old building, I'm your gal."
"Bet you're handy on trivia night."
"So long as the topic's not historic New Roman architecture. I'm still a bit behind on where I should be on that style; I didn't have any interest in it until I got the fellowship here. Eastman & Ellis has some of the Appian Way reconstruction contracts. I was hoping to get on one of those projects after my probationary period was over." She snorted, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment that coursed through her. "That's definitely not happening now."
"Your boss was that pissed about the video? Why?"
Percy had slipped on a pair of Ray-Bans, obstinately to hide his identity, though Annabeth didn't know how anyone could miss him. He was just… so much. It was harder to read his expression with them on, but his brow was crinkled again — he was just annoyed, she decided, not slipping back into that stony rage he'd displayed earlier.
Annabeth deliberated about what she tell him for half a second before deciding on the truth. She didn't have to protect Percy's feelings when he had cultivated such a nasty reputation on his own. He knew exactly what everyone in this city thought of him.
"Negative attention, mostly. He was worried we'd lose clients once people made the connection. No one would want to hire the firm that employs an upstart daughter of Athena, just in case they get targeted for retaliation during the son of Neptune's next temper tantrum."
Percy shot her an exasperated look. "I don't throw temper tantrums."
She smothered another grin. "If you say so. Almost everyone I've talked to seems to think you're gunning for revenge because I made a fool of you. You are taking me to a coffee shop and not your shadowy underwater lair, right?"
"Funny. Turn left up here," Percy said, gently pressing his hand to the small of her back to guide in her the right direction. It was a quick touch, but it made goosebumps break out over Annabeth's skin all the same. "I swear, the rumors in this city get worse every week… I have better things to do than plot out elaborate revenge schemes against everyone who pisses me off. And I'm not pissed about our sparring match. Well, maybe about it getting splashed everywhere, but the fight itself?" He shook his head. "I can't be mad about that. Anyone who thinks I should be has never picked up a sword in their life. I've never fought against anyone like you. You're… breathtaking."
It wasn't his words that made Annabeth blush, but his earnest sincerity. She'd never been called breathtaking before. Severe and cold, yes, but breathtaking? That was a word that got reserved for children of Aphrodite or Apollo, not lowly daughters of Athena.
"Well, you're no slouch yourself," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears bashfully. "I haven't been able to let go like that in ages. I'd forgotten what it was like to fight someone and just… revel in the challenge of it. I wanted you to sweat for every inch."
"You must be used to out-thinking everybody on the battlefield, huh? I could tell you were getting annoyed when I caught onto your moves."
"Took you long enough. You're clearly used to overpowering everyone you come in contact with. That seaweed brain of yours must've enjoyed the workout."
"Seaweed brain?" A chucked accompanied Percy's smile this time, and the warmth that spread through Annabeth's chest had nothing to do with the sun. "I've never been called that before…"
"There's a first time for everything."
They had come to a stop at the corner of a busy intersection, standing just a little further back from the other pedestrians waiting for the light to turn. Percy turned, his smile fading, and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair.
"Y'know, sometime in the middle of the whole thing, I thought…" He paused, weighing his next words. "I thought, 'Man , wouldn't it be something to fight with this woman instead of against her? We'd be unstoppable.' Kinda stupid, huh? As if descendants of Neptune and Athena would ever — "
"It's not," Annabeth interrupted, meeting his gaze. "Because I thought the same thing."
For a handful of seconds, the world fell away, leaving nothing but Annabeth and Percy, and the charged possibility between them.
A mortal wouldn't understand the significance of their exchange. Two demigods admitting they wanted to work together? What was groundbreaking about that? Greek and Roman demigods tolerated each other for the sake of peace and little else; alliances were more common between them than friendships, and even those were shaky at best. Romans were a severe bunch with a superiority complex who had little tolerance for the more free-spirited Greek lifestyle.
Add that on to the smaller, but equally complex, dynamics between demigods born to minor gods versus major gods, demigods whose parents were rivals or were distrusted by most of the Pantheon, or any of other divine baggage the gods decided to hand down to their children, and things could get very messy indeed.
A daughter of Athena and a son of Neptune had no business getting coffee together, let alone wanting to fight side-by-side with the other.
It was a dangerous idea, but looking into Percy's green eyes, seeing his acknowledgment, it didn't feel wrong to Annabeth.
In fact, it felt like something that should have happened a long time ago.
The crosswalk light turned and the world came back into focus as the people around them began to surge forward. Annabeth blinked and Percy looked away in that span of time, tipping his sunglasses back down over his eyes as they began to move again.
"Well," he said, his voice a bit huskier than normal. He cleared his throat, struggling to overcome the remnants of possibility still lingering between them. "Anyway… the point is, your firm's clients have nothing to be afraid of. Though, I could understand if it was the contractors for the Appian Way raising a fuss. I'm the one who took out a good chunk of the Way in the first place."
Annabeth had nearly forgotten what they were talking about. She arched a curious eyebrow. "I thought it was destroyed during the Titan War?"
"Yeah, Krios wiped out a couple of blocks near the Senate during the final assault, but I may have... dropped a sea serpent on the waterfront district a couple years before that."
"A sea serpent?"
"The Titan Army tried to recruit me to be their Prophecy Boy at the beginning of the war. They weren't happy when I told them to fuck off, so they sent a pair of sea serpents to wreck the city. One of them escaped the bay, which wasn't supposed to happen," Percy explained, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "I killed it before it got too far into the city and caused more damage. The Appian Way folks haven't been a fan of me ever since."
"Did you get in trouble for it?"
After the Battle of Manhattan, several rich mortals banded together and decided to sue demigods and Camp Half-Blood for damages incurred to their properties during the battle. That movement had lasted all of five minutes before Zeus decided to nuke the ringleader — a bloviating, rotting pumpkin of a reality TV star — and his ugly tower to teach them all a lesson about being grateful to their godling saviors.
Annabeth couldn't remember if there had been similar blowback in New Rome at the time, but she doubted it. New Rome had the highest percentage of demigods and legacies in the country, and always ranked number one on any "demigod-friendly" travel or living survey.
"Nah. They elected me praetor after that."
She gaped at him, not expecting that answer. "You were a praetor?"
"For a few years, yeah." He glanced at her and the puzzlement was clear in his next words. "You really don't know anything about me, do you?"
"Apparently not," she replied, staring straight ahead and ignoring the blood rushing to her cheeks. Damn it, why hadn't she bothered to do any research on him after she got home yesterday? She was an embarrassment to her mother's name. "When I moved here, I thought I knew everything I needed to about you — or your reputation, at least. I never thought we'd cross paths, so there was no reason for me to do additional research."
And where had her willful ignorance gotten her? Picking a fight with a former praetor, like a fool. A praetor!
Somehow, that fact made her actions yesterday seem even more childish and dangerous. In Annabeth's mind, she'd been determined to deflate the ego of a brutish and powerful demigod who was hogging her practice field. To their audience in the arena and the rest of the world, she'd threatened a former head of state and goaded him into physical combat. Forget getting herself killed — she probably could've been arrested.
No wonder Jason had been so annoyed with her. She owed him several more groveling apologies. And probably a bottle or two of his favorite whiskey.
"Never thought I'd see a daughter of Athena admit she didn't do her homework," Percy teased and Annabeth's scowl deepened. "Really, it's not a bad thing. D'you know how rare it is to meet someone in this city who doesn't know every detail about me already?"
The sleek downtown office buildings had started to turn into quaint, brightly colored shops and speciality restaurants, their patios biting into the sidewalk space. They were walking much closer together now; Annabeth's shoulders kept brushing up against Percy's arm accidentally, but he didn't seem to mind.
"Because everyone else living here clearly isn't an idiot," she grumbled, feeling more humiliated by the moment as she recalled her grating behavior yesterday. "Next you're going to tell me your pal Frank is a senator or something."
"Well, Frank works with the Senate, but he's never been a senator … " Percy said, a hedging tone to his voice that told her she wouldn't like the rest of his answer one bit.
"You know what? Don't tell me what he actually does," Annabeth said, shaking her head. "I feel like enough of a clueless jackass as it without knowing if I threatened another one of New Rome's elite or not."
"Frank's had to deal with worse. You're hardly the first person who's interrupted us, you know," he replied dryly. "So if you're worried he's mad at you, don't be. He practically skipped out of the arena last night after you kicked my ass. Pretty sure he was talking about sending you flowers or a fruit basket or something, too."
"Why in Athena's name would he do that?"
"Because he would've been stuck sparring with me all night if you hadn't come along. Yesterday wasn't one of my good days," he explained. "Sometimes I can be a real bastard until I get beaten into exhaustion. Frank's one of the few who can handle me when I get like that, but he and I can't get into knock-down, drag-out fights any more. It's bad optics."
He sneered the word, as if he'd heard one too many times from condescending PR flacks.
"It can take hours to wear me down to a reasonable level if I have to hold back. A shitty fight will just put me in a worse mood. The jerkoff who recorded our fight was probably the only person happier than Frank in that arena when you turned out to be the real deal."
Annabeth knew exactly how tiresome it could be to have to keep up with a child of the Big Three when they were in a frenzy. All demigods experienced a bit of battle lust every now and then — the progeny of war gods like Athena and Ares more often than others. But no one experienced it quite as bad as children of the Big Three.
She had spent plenty of time on Camp Half-Blood's training grounds with the Graces and Nico over the years when they got too aggressive for everyone else. No one else had the patience for it, she'd supposed, or the spine. It had been one of her more frightening duties before the war — staring down her friends and seeing nothing but the fearsome power burning in their eyes.
Percy had looked at her like that yesterday, but she hadn't been afraid. She'd been excited.
"How come you were at a public training field anyway?" she asked. It was a thought that had been nagging her since she'd left the arena. "You're the most infamous man in the city; there's no reason you should be interrupted or have people recording your fights to put on the Internet. Shouldn't you be at a private facility? Or have your own?"
Jason had a membership to a ridiculously fancy (and expensive) training club that boasted it was home to every elite warrior in New Rome on all its promotional literature. He'd brought Annabeth as a guest once; the staff lost any interest in trying to recruit her when they learned she was a daughter of Athena and hadn't let her anywhere near the combat floors. The thought of returning now and pulling her very own Pretty Woman moment nearly put a smile on her face.
"If I was allowed to, sure," Percy said, shrugging. "The public fields aren't all that bad."
She blinked, surprised. "If you were allowed to? I was under the impression no one told the son of Neptune to do anything."
"My leash is a bit shorter than you might expect." He offered her a grim smile. Before she could ask what he meant by that, he paused in front of a small, two-story building and said, "Here we are. See? A real coffee shop. Definitely not a front for a shadowy underwater lair."
Annabeth had explored downtown New Rome plenty since she'd moved, visiting shops on the weekends with Piper, trying new restaurants over her lunch hour, or sketching some of its more unique buildings. But for the life of her, she couldn't ever remember seeing this shop before. Not that it'd be hard to overlook, squashed as it was between a bulky speciality weapons store on one side and a pristine fashion house on the other. Judging by it's peaked gables, it had probably been a house before it had been converted into a coffee shop; it was set back a bit further than it's neighbors, allowing for space on the lot for a small tree and a deck.
The hanging wooden sign by the door was designed to look an old Roman coin, straight down to Julius Caesar's profile embossed on it. Caesar was sipping from a coffee cup, his profile surrounded by the words ET TU BREWTE in an old fashioned font.
Annabeth shot Percy an unimpressed look. "Really?"
"Don't tell me you don't enjoy a good pun."
"That's not a good pun — it's the worst one I've ever seen," she said, following him as he hopped up the short set of steps and reached for the door.
"But that's what makes it great," he insisted, holding the door open for her. "Their coffee is much better than their punning skills. Best place in New Rome, I promise."
"Well, if you promise ..."
The interior of Et Tu Brewte looked like most coffee shops Annabeth had visited at first glance — lots of comfy looking furniture in shades of soothing browns and reds, exposed light bulbs dangling artfully from the ceiling, a gleaming coffee bar full of bronzed equipment — but instead of eclectic pieces of art or antiques on the walls, plants bloomed everywhere. They were on tables, from hanging baskets attached to the ceiling and in clear bubble vases on the wall, and pots in the corners; the entire back wall was covered in them, arranged by color and texture so it looked look a swirling mural from afar. Annabeth could immediately picture herself sitting by that wall on a sunlit Saturday, sketching to her heart's content.
Percy caught her dreamy expression and lifted his eyebrows as if to say Told ya so.
Despite the fact that shop was fairly crowded for a late Friday morning, Percy's entrance had hardly drawn any attention. The young man in line in front of them had glanced over his shoulder, clearly bored and looking for some amusement, but his gaze whipped forward the moment he recognized Percy. Other than that, no one seemed particularly bothered by his presence, and Annabeth didn't think it was because he had called ahead with a warning.
Percy's eyes had softened to their softest shade of green yet and there was something inexplicably lighter about the way he held himself in the shop versus out on the sidewalk, as if he had dropped some invisible armor. They were still in public, but this shop with it's stupid name and beautiful plants was clearly his territory. He looked comfortable .
It was a look that Annabeth liked. A lot. It was the kind of look that made her want to make him even more comfortable by, say, loosening his tie or untucking his dress shirt so she could run her hands over his —
"Oh look," Percy said sardonically, oblivious to her sultry perusal of his body as he stared at a TV screen planted between the menu boards. "Dickhead Junior's been deployed to do damage control."
Annabeth followed his gaze, her desire cooling off instantly at the sight of Jason's face on ONN. The network was re-airing interview footage from earlier this morning, probably to introduce an upcoming segment featuring a panel of pundits. Jason looked like a stoic, regally handsome robot, as he always did on TV; he lost all his warmth and charisma when he got planted in front of a camera. It drove Piper bananas.
"How do you Greeks stand him?" Percy continued, disdain dripping from every word. Apparently, Jason hadn't exaggerated about his and Percy's mutual enmity either. "His face is just so… punchable."
"He's not so bad in person."
Percy made a skeptical noise. "Sure he is. ONN probably wanted him on to critique our fighting styles. It's not a legitimate fight until the Titan Killer weighs in."
"Didn't you kill a Titan?" Annabeth knew for certain that he had; that was the one thing everyone in the city seemed to agree on when it came to the son of Neptune.
"Yeah, but I guess it only counts when you kill the big bad Lord of Time himself."
"Mmm." This was not an area of conversation where Annabeth felt comfortable lingering. Thankfully, Jason's face had been replaced by footage from their fight. She grimaced as a close up of her vicious expression flashed across the screen. "Seriously, don't they have anything better to talk about?"
"Apparently not," he said, looking back at her with an expression that made her chest ache. "But I can't fault their taste. You're clearly worth talking about."
One way or another, Annabeth decided, she was going to kiss this man. She'd drag him by the neck of his tie into a shadowy alcove or a supply closet, and kiss him until she was aching, until he agreed to come home with her. She wouldn't be satisfied until she did.
"Heya Percy!" the brunette teenager at the register chirped, drawing Annabeth's attention. The girl was already uncapping her marker and reaching for a cup. "Same as usual?"
"You got it, Julia," he replied as the girl began to scribble on the cup. His hand settled on Annabeth's lower back again, lingering this time. "I'm paying for hers, too."
Julia looked up from the cup in surprise, turning her gaze toward Annabeth, as if she'd just noticed her presence.
"No, I'm paying for his," Annabeth corrected and Percy arched an eyebrow. "What? You've already done me a favor today and after all the trouble I caused…"
"I already told you, it's no big deal. This is supposed to be a pick-me-up for you, remember? My mothe — "
Julia interrupted with a sharp yelp, dropping her cup so she could clap her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
"Sweet Vulcan, you're her!" she exclaimed, lowering her hands. "You're the daughter of Athena!"
Julia's voice wasn't that loud, but it carried over the light din of conversation and easy listening music streaming through the cafe. All those regulars who had been too cool to acknowledge the son of Neptune suddenly popped up from behind their computer screens, heads swiveling toward the register in interest.
Good gods. Would Annabeth never stop blushing today?
"Yes," she said warily. "That's me, unfortunately."
Annabeth braced herself for another round of criticism and insults, but Julia apparently had more interest in fangirling than castigating her.
"You were amazing," the teen gushed, a flush of her own rising to her cheeks. "I've never seen anyone fight like that, let alone a Greek! You'd give Reyna a run for her money and she's the best. The look on Percy's face when you got him in the chokehold was so good, I can't even — "
Percy cleared his throat pointedly and Julia squeaked again, scrambling to grab another cup. "Sorry, sorry! It's just… wow !"
"Huh. I guess I'm going to have to watch that video after all if that look on your face was that good," Annabeth said, nudging Percy playfully in the shoulder. He scowled at her.
"It's hilarious; he looks like a fish! I can't believe you're here," Julia continued to gush. "And with him, of all people!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Percy's tone was sharp, but not angry. It was the kind of tone one would use with an annoying sibling, not a server who had stepped out of line.
"Your parents are rivals, duh. Everyone knows that. Besides, you've been a regular grump lately, ever after your coffee, so I can only imagine what you're like after getting your ass kicked like that," Julia said with a haughty sniff only a teenager could pull off. "You better not have snarled at her, Percy."
"I didn't," he said, exasperated, as Annabeth laughed. "Just take her order, Julia. And I'm paying for it, end of story."
"Fine, fine," Julia huffed, rolling her eyes. She lost her in sulk in an instant when she addressed Annabeth "What can I get you, Miss Chase?"
Percy grumbled something about disrespectful teens under his breath as Annabeth perused the menu board, holding back a smile. "I'll take a medium chai tea latte, please. With whipped cream."
"Toss a couple of those chocolate croissants on there too, will ya?" Percy said, pulling out his wallet and handing over his card as Julia rang up their drinks.
"Got it. We'll bring them out to you in a few minutes!"
Percy led her away from the counter and toward the sun-dappled table and comfy arm chairs next to the plant wall that Annabeth had been fixated on earlier. A college student was already sitting there, legs propped up over the arm of the chair as she watched something on her tablet, but once she noticed the son of Neptune headed her way, she scrambled out of the chair and fled deeper into the coffee shop get out of the way.
It was a startling contrast to Julia's easy attitude, a reminder that not everyone was as comfortable with Percy's presence.
"I can't believe the big bad son of Neptune lets teenager baristas snark at him," Annabeth said as she slid into the chair closest to the window. "Seems out of character."
"Julia's the only one who can get away with it. I've known her since she was six," Percy explained, sitting next to her. She shrugged out of her cardigan, grateful to get it off after their walk. "Her parents own this place, but she used to be Terminus' assistant when I was in the legion. He was always coming after me for one rule infraction or another, so she and I got pretty well acquainted."
"And here I was, thinking your reputation might just be the tiniest bit exaggerated," she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. She was keenly aware of Percy's eyes tracing the fall of her curls down the neckline of her dress to the curves of her breasts.
Annabeth had never been particularly adept at casual flirting — not that she hadn't practiced. Frankly, she found a matter-of-fact approach to be more effective and efficient than a flirtation when she wanted to get laid. Relationships, however, required a bit more finesse. It had annoyed her to no end that mortal Dave had thought it was cute how bad she was at flirting with him, like she was some kind of elementary school student with her first crush instead of an adult woman. It had never occurred to him that she just wasn't trying .
But damn it if the son of Neptune wasn't making her see the value in a good flirtation. She wanted to meet each of his little teasing comments and lingering glances with one of her own, to build on the delightful tension between them; playing the game made the thought of the end result even more desirous.
"Maybe some of it is," he acknowledged, his voice rough. His gaze had drifted down to her exposed thighs and when he looked up, his eyes were full of want once more. "But not the important parts."
Percy stretched out, crossing his long legs at the ankles; the move caused the denim of his to stretch over his muscled thighs and, if the heady smirk he shot in her direction was any indication, he knew exactly how much she appreciated that.
"And which parts would those be?" she said, propping her chin on her hand.
Percy paused, considering her thoughtfully.
"The rumors about my relentlessness… those are true. I don't give up on something I want," he said with deliberate, delicious slowness. "Or someone."
If any other man had said that to her with even a fraction of Percy's arrogance, Annabeth would've laughed and dismissed him without a thought.
She didn't doubt Percy.
His confidence wasn't a front, something she could puncture with a few well chosen words, an eye roll, or, even, a strong right hook. It was very real and she was stupidly attracted to him because of it. It was exhilarating to have someone as sure of himself and his place in the world be interested in her.
And that was what made him such a threat.
Annabeth knew better than to trust something as fickle as attraction, but sitting across from this sinfully handsome man and the temptation he offered, she couldn't bring herself to care.
"I won't make things easy for you."
"I believe I already told you I welcome a challenge."
From within the depths of Annabeth's bag, "Danger Zone's" guitar riff began to play — appropriate, given that she was about to throw herself into danger's arms. It was an effective break in the mood. Sometimes she swore Jason had a damn sixth sense about these things.
"Nice ringtone," Percy said, amused, as she hastily reached for her bag and started to dig for her phone. "Top Gun fan?"
"No. I only keep set as this because he hates it. Used to be his nickname at camp when he was more of a troublemaker."
He arched a dark eyebrow. "He?"
"Your buddy, Dickhead Junior," Annabeth replied, flashing him the phone's screen so he could see the photo ID just before the call went to voicemail. "He's been handling the press for me today. Probably just calling to check in and see how I'm doing…"
She trailed off with a frown as Jason's face reappeared and her phone began to ring again. He usually left a voicemail or sent her a message if he couldn't get ahold of her right away. He wouldn't call back immediately unless something serious had happened.
"D'you need to take that?"
"Probably," she said apologetically. "It shouldn't take more than a minute, I promise."
"It's not a problem," Percy said, rising from his chair. "I'll just go check and see how those drinks of ours are coming along."
"Thank you," Annabeth said, answering Jason's call. "Hello?"
"Where are you? Are you at work?"
Annabeth balked at Jason's harsh tone; she hadn't heard him sound this harried in years. She'd anticipated another exasperated lecture like he'd delivered last night, not this. He couldn't be that mad about her interaction with the press earlier, could he? They had ambushed her! She didn't have to be polite to those vultures.Or… had he somehow found she was with Percy, after his explicit instructions to stay away from him?
It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility, she decided as she took a discreet glance around the coffee shop. Any one of these people could've taken a photo of the two of them and thrown it on Twitter and Instagram in seconds, as could have anyone on the street they'd passed who had recognized them. But surely it would take an hour or two before any photos gained enough traction to land on Jason's desk?
And anyway, Jason could go screw himself if that was what he was pissed about. Annabeth was an adult who had properly assessed the situation and made an informed decision.
"No, I'm getting coffee," Annabeth said, deciding she wouldn't mention who she was getting coffee with unless he brought it up. "Why, do you need something?"
"Give me the address. I'm sending a car to pick you up."
Her brow furrowed. "What? No. Why would you need to do that?"
"Annabeth — "
"Look, if you saw that press ambush earlier, I'm fine. Someone already took care of that for me."
Her eyes darted over to Percy, who was leaning on the counter and razzing Julia. Two coffee cups sat near his elbow.
"It's about to get a lot worse," Jason said grimly. "I need you here, Annabeth. They know."
Jason wasn't angry, she realized suddenly, sitting up straight. He was afraid, which was almost worse. There was only thing that involved the two of them that he'd be afraid of the press uncovering. But he couldn't be talking about — the press couldn't have —
Icy dread began to slither through her veins.
Could they?
"Know what, Jason?" she asked, her throat dry. She had to hear him say it.
"About Kronos. And which one of us actually killed him."