Chapter Text
The elevator dings pleasantly, and Percy sighs as the doors open to reveal his archnemesis and complete pain in his ass, Annabeth Chase. And no, he is not exaggerating. Ever since he was hired on in her department, she seemed to take it as a personal slight every time he was asked to do a presentation instead of her or when, god forbid, his numbers were even the slightest bit higher. It’s not his fault he’s good at his job. It could, however, potentially be his fault that the situation escalated, seeing as he was the one to make the first snide remark after enduring one too many of her post-presentation scowls.
“Chase.”
“Jackson.”
They stand in tense silence for the rest of the elevator ride, and Percy refuses to give her even the slightest edge over him by glancing at those long legs revealed by a pencil skirt that should, in his professional opinion, be banned. She has no right to look that good when he knows that underneath her soft lips, clever eyes, and toned arms, there is nothing but spite and condescension. God, he hates her.
By the time lunch rolls around, Percy is in a much better mood: Grover had surprised him with a coffee, and he had spent the better half of a meeting sending stupid pictures back and forth with Rachel, each trying to one-up the other. Of course, Annabeth seems to have an innate instinct for knowing when he’s finally happy, so it really shouldn’t surprise him to see her sit down across from him in the break room and pull out her lunch.
“We should go over the notes management wants us to review, so we can get it in before the deadline.”
Percy can see the gleam in her eyes as she subtly references the one time he handed in a report late, and he grinds his teeth together.
“I can handle it myself, thanks.” He congratulates himself on the professional, if curt tone, and hopes she’ll go away before she can ruin his mood further. Unfortunately, Annabeth never seems to do what he wants, or even what he tries to predict if he’s being completely honest with himself, no matter how many months he’s now known her for.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” She raises one eyebrow. “I am surprised you managed to pick up on the implication though.”
His jaw clenches and Percy crosses his arms, already thin patience wearing even thinner.
“I’m surprised they didn’t give you the file directly, given how high your- Wait, no, my numbers were better than yours last quarter, weren’t they? Huh. Almost forgot.”
They glare at each other for a moment before Percy starts packing up his lunch angrily.
“You know what? I’ve lost my appetite.” He scowls down at her, looking all angelic with the sun framing her from behind. As if below that beautiful exterior could be anything but a deep black hole. He’s so preoccupied with how he definitely won that argument (Percy - 1, Annabeth - 0) that he doesn’t even notice her following him out the door until she’s grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the supply closet. She’s pushed him up against the wall and grabbed a fistful of his tie before he can even think to say something.
“You’re fucking infuriating.”
And then her lips are against his, and, oh, they’re even softer than he imagined. And, okay, he hadn’t realized he’d imagined them before, so he tucks that thought away for further examination, turning his focus to the hot, annoying coworker currently doing her best to rid him of all coherent thought. And, even worse, it’s working. Unwilling to be outdone, he grabs hold of her waist and pulls her flush against him, one hand reaching up to finally tangle his fingers in those stupid, bouncing curls.
Annabeth pushes herself further against him until he doesn’t know where she ends and he begins, and she slides one leg between his until any remaining thoughts that aren’t more, god please more, are erased from his mind. Eventually, she pulls away and rests her head against his chest, panting slightly. Slowly his thoughts come back to him and he slumps his head back against the wall.
“Fuck.”
A small laugh comes from below his chin, and he’s startled at just how clear and bright it sounds. Before he can think too much of it, she’s stepped away from him, and even though her face is in covered with shadows, Percy can’t find it in himself to look away from those eyes. One finger gets pressed to his chest, defiant and prideful.
“I still hate you.”
“But you think I’m hot.” He smirks.
She glances down slightly, and is smirking as well when she looks back up. “I’d say the feeling is mutual.”
Annabeth sweeps out of the closet, looking infuriatingly polished aside from slightly flushed cheeks, and Percy takes a moment to promise to himself that next time he’ll have to ruffle her careful exterior as payback. He thinks that over- the words ‘next time’ flashing brightly. Fuck.
Annabeth - 1.