Well the haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate.
And the fakers gonna fake fake fake fake fake-baby,
I’m just gonna ship ship ship. I SHIP THEM ALL. I SHIP THEM ALL.
(parody of Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off”)
UUUUGGGGGHHHHH!! Omg I’m really sorry I’m exactly a week late! I was so uninspired this week. I actually did something completely different but hated it so much, so this happened. I don’t feel that great about this either :( thank god my Chris x Clarisse is working out so far… I’ll try get that up tonight as well
I would apologise, but my imagination led me down the path of ‘undercover, untrained, pissed off Percy Jackson’ and didn’t let me leave until I’d typed this. And there’s more but I need to edit the rest of it desperately. So. Good luck reading this hunk o junk.
One of them has to do it. Undercover. In a drug ring which is run by demigods.
And Percy wonders when the hell he signed up for this bullshit. He’s a demigod, for Zeus’ sake. A sword-wielding, monster-fighting demigod. The drug trade is not his business.
Apparently it is, according to Chiron. He sits the Seven in front of him, around his godsdamned ping pong table, along with a few of the head councilors, and tells them of this latest problem. Which, fine. Percy doesn’t care. He’ll go in, bash a few of the arsehole demigods around, slap them on the wrists - tell them to stop with the drugs (godly enhanced drugs with ambrosia and nectar and, like, shit. If a mortal got their hand on those…). That sort of thing.
But, no. Chiron wants one of them to be a fucking undercover agent and go in to get friendly with the ringleader (a daughter of Hecate by the name of Autumn Brown) so that they can get information on where the current shipments are. Otherwise, a ton of mortals are going to get their hands on those drugs.
And then there’s going to be a ton of dead mortals.
Just fucking perfect.
On the bright side, Percy’s got Annabeth to back him up. He’s not going in to ‘seduce the mark’ or whatever. She’d put a stop to that, no problem. Right?
Wrong, apparently. Percy wants to boil his own brain in a vat of boiling oil.
Percy had been doing just fine at avoiding the job, too, until fucking Katie Gardner from the Demeter cabin speaks up.
“Well, it’s gotta be one of us, right?” she says, drumming her fingertips noiselessly on the ping pong table. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her boyfriend, Travis, is twirling a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers. “We don’t trust anyone outside of this room?”
“True,” says Annabeth. Percy’s got his arm around her shoulders, hand stroking through her loose hanging blonde curls. “Anyone else at camp could be dirty. Also, if it’s any of you, I’ll stab you to death myself.”
Percy smiles. That’s his girl.
Apparently, Katie isn’t done with her scheming yet. “Well, it’s gotta be either Percy or Jason,” she says. “They’re easily the most 'typically’ attractive two here - oh, stop whining, Travis. Don’t be a baby. I’m just saying, to the wider public they’re the best 'trophy boys’ or whatever.”
If she hadn’t just nominated him for the job, Percy would’ve laughed at the literal whine that had escaped Travis’ throat. But there’s a mischievous smile playing on the son of Hermes’ lips that tells everyone he doesn’t really care about her comment anyway. And he keeps playing with that curl of hair, so Percy can tell he’s not offended.
But then, Jason says what Percy had been too horrified to say himself. “WHAT?”
Very eloquent, Jason, really. Congratulations.
“Not Jason,” says Clarisse with that usual scowl on her face. Her boyfriend is sitting beside her, Chris Rodriguez, and Percy is once again reminded that Aphrodite excludes literally nobody from her weird voodoo magic or whatever she calls it. Love. “That boy would fit into a drug ring like I’d fit in at a princess party.”
“Perfectly, then,” says Percy, who really can’t stop himself from being the antagonizing little prick he always is around the daughter of Ares.
Annabeth snorts in amusement at the image of Clarisse in a pink, fluffy dress.
“No, you moron,” snaps Clarisse. “No offense, Jason, but you could probably the poster boy for a government anti-bullying movement. I hate to say this, but we’ve gotta go with Prissy.”
“Whoa,” says Percy, holding up his hands in surrender. He’s trying not to let anyone know how secretly flattered he is that Clarisse thinks him capable for something. But, still. “I am in a very stable, committed relationship with a girl who could probably skin me alive. Let’s not suggest me seducing anyone, alright?”
Annabeth ignores his comment, and taps her chin with a long, slender finger. She looks deep in thought. Percy knows she’s deep in thought, because she’s wearing her 'Deep In Thought’ face, and so he wisely doesn’t say anything else to add to his case. Interrupting her while she’s thinking does not sit right with either of them.
“No,” she says, at last. “No. It could work. With you, we won’t have to worry about you secretly discovering romantic feelings for her and then turning on us. And you’ve got enough skill with a sword to get you the hell out of there if need be.”
“And you look like one of those cute guys in the mall that you just go 'nope’ and steer clear of. So, you’d look better in the drug ring than my pretty boy, boyfriend over here,” Piper adds.
Jason looks like he’s slightly offended, but Percy would gladly swap to be in his shoes right about now. What the fuck does she mean by that? Steer clear of him?
He hopes to the gods that Annabeth’s father and stepmother, Helen, don’t think he looks like that. The thought is slightly worrying, and he suppresses a shudder.
Unfortunately, he can’t stop his mouth from dropping open. “What?” he demands. “No way. No fucking way. Nope. What if I…?” he can’t even get the words out.
“If you need to have sex with her, have sex with her,” Annabeth says dully, although Percy knows her well enough to realize that she is slightly uncomfortable. “I trust you. And, it’s not like you don’t know how.”
(Frank and Leo practically do twin spit takes because they’re both taking sips out of their drink bottles at the same time and, fuck. TMI.)
She flashes a triumphant smile when Percy’s face goes bright red at the insinuation. Okay, yeah, so he’s had sex enough times to be pretty good at it by now, but maybe he doesn’t want to do it with anyone else but Annabeth. And she might be okay with it, but it still feels like he’s cheating on her. The thought makes his mouth taste dry and metallic.
“Well, I-” and Percy realises that defending himself is useless. But nominating someone else is not. “What about Will? He’s a pretty good looking dude, right?”
“Yes, he is,” snaps Nico di Angelo from beside his boyfriend, Will Solace. Percy is, like, eighty percent sure that they’re holding hands under the table. “But he’s also taken. And gay.”
Nico’s got a territorial gleam in his eyes that more terrifying than the look on his face when he summons zombies from the earth. A look that makes Percy want to back up a few steps and then hide behind Annabeth. Obviously, he would never do that, but sometimes people don’t get what they want, is what he’s trying to say. Or something.
Basically, Percy really doesn’t want to go on this quest.
“Okay, then, Leo?” Percy is grasping at straws.
Leo gestures to himself with a cocky smirk on his face that immediately tells Percy exactly why he can’t do the job. “For some reason, only Calypso seems to appreciate this fine piece of art.”
Piper rolls her eyes, propping her legs up on the ping pong table like a foot rest, and then brings them back down again when Chiron shoots her a stern look. For some reason, Chrion is weirdly overprotective of his ping pong table.
“Praetor duties in New Rome,” Frank says immediately. “Also, some people have likened me to a 'cute panda bear’ which is not what you want when being seductive.”
Hazel pats his shoulder in reassurance and smiles lovingly at him.
Okay, now Percy is grasping for the last straws in his basket. “What if I knock her up or something?”
Rachel holds up three fingers. “One: birth control. Two: talk to Aphrodite and she’ll probably give you a blessing better than birth control. Three: steer clear of actual sex and put you tongue to good use between her-”
Thankfully, Annabeth has the good sense to jump in before that horrific sentence can meet its bloody end. “Alright! No thank you. Percy’s going on the quest. Case in point. Obviously, due to Apollo currently being a human and having no control over his prophecies, we can’t go down that route.”
“Oh,” says Chiron, remembering. “Yes, I’d forgotten about that.”
Percy waves a hand. “Forget it,” he says in defeat. “Bye. I’m off to go have sex with a pretty drug lord. Don’t wait up for me.”