Chapter Text
Annabeth clenched her teeth and took five deep and deliberate breaths. Across the room, Piper shot her a look of concern, and began to inch back towards her room.
“I’m fine, Pipes,” Annabeth snapped, wincing internally at the harshness of her voice. “And if you’re going to say you believe me, then you’d better stay in this room, or I’ll come up with a new scheme aimed at you.”
Piper gave Annabeth one of her trademark I-totally-believe-and-love-you-but-you’re-insane smiles, bright, understanding, and unfairly pretty, just enough to take the edge off of Annabeth’s teetering grasp on sanity.
And it had been very, very close the past few days. The combination of external circumstances which Annabeth did not want to think about, and an Architecture year 3 final, was starting to press hard down on her.
The deadline was five days away, and Annabeth was still trapped on the final decisions for the façade on her audacious attempt to integrate classical Greek architecture and a modern feel into a proposed court building.
She scowled down at the tracing papers on her drafting table, which she had shifted to the living room in a valiant attempt to cut down on distractions.
The lines just…didn’t quite add up. She was missing something.
It was something which would have given her trouble on any regular day, but in the current circumstances, the indecision was made much worse. Knowing that her only clear time to think was now, at 12:10 through to 12:15. When that heartless beast stopped for a sandwich, or whatever drove those things.
Running her hands obsessively through her curls, Annabeth caught the slightest hint of sound behind her.
Annabeth snapped her head around to catch Piper tiptoeing towards Hazel’s door. “What are you doing?”
Guilt rippled over Piper’s face, and the shorter girl turned up the sugar level on her smile, and in her voice as well. “Nothing, Beth. I was just…checking up on Hazel. You know how she gets during geology finals.”
“You’re a music major, Pipes,” Annabeth huffed, “I doubt you’ll make her feel much better. And you’re doing the voice. You’re up to something. Is Hazel in on it?”
“Nope.” Piper’s smile was starting to become strained, and Annabeth narrowed her eyes at Piper’s hands, hidden behind her back.
“What’s that?” Annabeth demanded.
“Nothing!” Piper was a great actress, Annabeth had to give her that. Anyone else would've been convinced.
Annabeth put down her pencil and stood from her chair. Piper began to back away slowly towards the door of Hazel’s room.
“Where are you going?” Annabeth kept her voice deceptively quiet, gliding forward, eyes calculating distances and speeds.
Hazel’s door popped open, and the shorter girl’s exhausted face appeared from the door.
“Pipes, is that our delivery?”
“Shhhhh!” Piper hissed.
Hazel looked up, and was unable to hide the look of dismay on her face. “Hi, Annabeth! You look a little…stressed.”
Annabeth narrowed her eyes. Piper had done something, for sure, and accidentally swept up Hazel in it. Hazel rarely lied, and when she did, it was usually immensely obvious. She was currently holding that guilty look which she had whenever she was trying to deflect attention.
“Hazel, what is Piper holding behind her back?”
Hazel glanced at the box behind Piper’s back, then back up at Annabeth. The guilty look intensified.
“It’s our Amazon delivery,” Piper cut in, all smiles and incredibly believable charm, except that Annabeth had been there for that performance where Piper had put up a bravura Titania in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and made even Annabeth grudgingly believe that Piper was in love with a guy with a donkey’s head.
No, Annabeth would not be getting straight answers out of Piper. She shifted the full weight of her gaze to Hazel.
“Hazel, tell me. Now.”
Hazel took a deep breath.
Piper shot her a warning look, and Annabeth took the chance to take another couple quick steps forwards.
Piper hastily shot her gaze back towards Annabeth, and began to inch closer to Hazel’s open door.
“Okay, so you know how my final is tomorrow?” Hazel was doing her innocent big eyes again, the only thing that could ever stop Annabeth in her tracks. Which they did. For the moment.
“And you know how Piper’s grades kind of depend on having good sound quality for analysis?”
Annabeth did not like where this was going. She had already done the mental math, and if it was leading to where she thought it was, blood was going to be spilled.
“We tried! We really did! I mean, we called the guy, asked if we could pay extra, but he said it’d still take another week, because the supply line issues and everything…”
Piper was nearly at Hazel’s door, and Annabeth was now within three feet of Piper.
Hazel took a deep breath, and Annabeth could see Piper’s muscles tense up.
“Soweboughtnoisecancelingheadphonesbuttherewereonlytwoinstock—”
Annabeth made her lunge just a split second before Piper did, but Hazel’s reactions were faster than both of theirs, grabbing Piper and pulling her headlong into Hazel’s room, the door of which slammed shut and locked a moment later.
“Sorry!” Hazel called. “I promise you’ll get to use it tomorrow!”
“You’ll have to come out eventually!” Annabeth growled. There was a guilty pause.
Annabeth’s jaw dropped as she thought back to the previous day. The shifting of the second kettle to Hazel’s room, the only room with an attached bathroom. Piper claiming Hazel was a better audience than her mirror and shifting her setup into Hazel’s room.
The box of instant noodles that Piper had sworn was a mistaken order. The audacity of it all. Those little sneaks had planned this so much better than they ever could’ve when they’d first met last year in that New York dorm room, when Hazel was a timid Louisianian transfer who tried to get along with everyone, and Piper was a dramatic, immensely gorgeous mess who loved being a faux rebel as much as her secret obsession with glamour magazines that she thought no one knew about.
Actually, now that Annabeth thought about it, Piper was almost exactly the same. It was Hazel who had probably come up with that quietly devious and flawless plan, the way that Annabeth had been slowly teaching her for the past year.
“Hazel, I’m proud of you,” Annabeth called through the door. “Lovely plan. Piper, you will suffer.”
There was the sound of quiet scuffling, and then Piper’s voice came from behind the door.
“Just one day, Annabeth! Tomorrow you’ll get Hazel’s.”
Annabeth was about to retort when it started again.
The whole cause of this argument. The reason why all three of them were incredibly on edge, and why Annabeth in particular was close to murder and/or arson.
The whirring of drilling and hammering started up again from the apartment directly above theirs, that obnoxiously loud and grating sound emanating down from the ceiling in constant doses, sometimes so loud that Annabeth could feel it in her teeth when she slammed her jaw shut hard to prevent herself from screaming at the ceiling.
Annabeth took another deep breath and marched into her own room, slamming the door shut viciously. She screamed into her pillow for the fifth time that week. It was the kind of unfortunate dilemma that left her cursing her own perfectionism.
Things had to be perfect, exact, and most of the time, she succeeded in making it so.
It was what made her the top student in her high school in San Francisco. It was what drove her to be the best, to take on a project on a third-year scale in her second year.
And it had been going well too, until that infernal noise had interfered. Because she needed things to be in order. For gods' sake, Annabeth had to align the curtains properly before she started work. And for the past week, just as she was reaching the most technically challenging portions of the project, some idiot had the gall to redo what seemed like his entire floor.
Somehow, he'd also found the most hardworking contractors in New York City, who started on point at 10:30 every morning, broke for five minute breaks at 12:10 and 3:30, and kept working until 8:30 at night. That had meant many all-nighters, and subsequently mixed results.
She’d thought that her initial design was secure after the first two all-nighters, and then she’d taken it straight to the testing zone without double-checking.
Watching it crumble in the wind tunnel had been extremely devastating, and it took Piper thirty minutes of singing to drag Annabeth to bed that night. And that was a lot. Hazel normally conked out three minutes into any Ella Fitzgerald, and even Annabeth usually succumbed within ten minutes.
She'd sworn off total all-nighters since then, but even with extending her working hours to 3 in the morning, she was nowhere close to on track. And what was even worse, that interminable whirring filled her mind even at night, and turned her thoughts into static and rising anger.
The concentration thief, Piper had so poetically put it, mournfully plucking away at her guitar tunelessly while Hazel cupped geodes over her ears.
Annabeth’s lips curled a little as the memory of Piper desperately resorting to lullabies came to her. It had been almost laughable if only–
A particularly intense whir of the drill, accompanied by a loud cracking sound, snapped Annabeth’s thoughts in half.
“That’s it!” Annabeth shot upright from the couch, pointing an accusing finger at the ceiling. “I’m going to shut you up if you don’t shut up!”
It took Annabeth a few seconds to realise that she’d just screamed full volume at the ceiling, like a truly deranged person.
The drilling ceased.
Then the hammering started, a constant knocking, like when Luke Castellan had refused to leave her alone in eighth grade.
Annabeth could practically see the red filter drop over her vision, and she stormed straight for the door, stepping into a pair of slippers and slamming the door shut behind her with as much venom as possible.
“That is fucking it,” Annabeth muttered under her breath, snatching up one of Piper’s high heels from the shoe rack. “These assholes are about to get what’s coming to them.”
She rammed the lift button as hard as she could, and began to make tentative swings with the heel.
It had been some time since she’d mastered knifework with her martial arts teachers; one of the few things that had kept her from actually releasing her aggression on her stepmother.
But she was still pretty confident in herself. Annabeth kept in good shape, and her reflexes were always top-notch.
The lift doors opened, and Annabeth stepped inside absentmindedly, her fingers hovering over the tenth-floor button, only to see that it had already been pressed.
“You could’ve taken the stairs,” a mild voice pointed out.
Annabeth spun quickly on her heel, bringing up Piper’s high heel in one hand.
“Okay, point taken,” said a surprised looking young man about Annabeth’s age, with bright green eyes and messy black hair.
He was also clad in just swimming trunks and a towel around his neck. Annabeth’s eyes wandered just a little bit around a toned, muscular chest before the man used a finger to push the high heel away from his face.
“Sorry,” Annabeth muttered, turning back around and running her other hand quickly through her messy, tangled curls. Of course she was a total mess when it came to meeting hunky swimmers in the elevator. This guy...Annabeth thought he looked familiar. Ah, it was those distinctive green trunks; he was always swimming in the pool whenever she went out to the library on the weekends.
Then she frowned. He lived on the tenth floor. Could this be the source of her pain?
“Don’t be,” he replied with an easy grin. “It’s not every day a pretty girl threatens you with a stiletto heel.”
The doors opened, and Annabeth stepped out to the buzz of drilling, her fingers, which had been relaxed previously, tightening on the heel as she stormed over to the unit on the left, the one lurking right above her apartment, and which was raining down all that goddamn noise on her.
“The owner’s not in,” came the apologetic voice of the swimmer. “There’s no one there but contractors. Very stubborn contractors.”
“They haven’t met me yet,” Annabeth snarled, raising a fist to slam against the door. “Nor my roommate’s heels.”
Annabeth reconsidered, instead leaning forwards and tapping out a series of light, annoyingly breezy and deliberate knocks, the kind that were most commonly associated with door-to-door salesmen, Girl Scouts, and Drew Tanaka.
The drilling ceased immediately, and a series of loud thumps began to sound, getting closer and closer. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Were those…footsteps?
She narrowed her eyes. Well, that wasn’t going to change anything. She was still going to give this contractor a piece of her mind, and if necessary, a piece of Piper’s heels.
Annabeth set herself, flexing her wrist as she readjusted her grip on Piper’s heel.
The thumping was getting very loud now.
So loud that she didn’t notice until the very last second the presence of someone behind her, a hand seizing her wrist and firmly tugging Annabeth around the corner and back into the lift lobby.
Annabeth’s reflexes took over, leaning into the pull to smash an elbow into her would-be attacker’s sternum.
The whuff of his breath being driven out of his lungs was accompanied by a pained groan as Annabeth half-turned and aimed a stamp down at his ankle. The pressure on her wrist released as the person’s left leg crumbled and he slammed against the lift doors.
Annabeth completed her turn, bringing Piper’s heel around into a deadly arc that, if she were being more ruthless, would be aimed for an eye.
The first thing she saw was bright sea-green eyes wide in alarm, and for the second time in the past ten minutes, Annabeth stopped herself from smashing Piper’s heel into the swimmer from the lift.
“That didn’t go the way I thought it would,” the swimmer muttered, holding his hands up in surrender.
“WHO DARES TO KNOCK!” a roar ripped out of the apartment, a voice that promised lots of blunt metal tools and smoke within the immediate vicinity.
The swimmer stood slowly, eyes fixed on the heel. “Please. Let me talk to him.”
Annabeth hesitated, narrowing her eyes. She supposed that it couldn’t hurt to get more data, and if this swimmer could help her get it, then maybe it could help.
It was not just because he was cute, and also the first boy she’d talked to outside of an academic context in the past two weeks of finals hell. Not because of that. Annabeth would never be influenced so easily.
“Fine,” Annabeth hissed, “But you tell him to shut up his tools for the next week, or else!”
She stuck out a hand and hauled the swimmer to his feet, consciously not looking at how tall he was, and the way his muscles moved as he came upright. Annabeth nestled the heel into the small of his back, prodding him forwards.
“Hey, that hurts!” the swimmer hissed.
Annabeth motioned forwards. “Just so you don’t forget to ask what I need you to ask.”
“WHO’S THERE? I SWEAR IF IT’S THOSE STOLL BROTHERS, YOU ARE BOTH GETTING YOUR DOORS NAILED SHUT!”
Annabeth marched the swimmer around the corner, and suddenly Piper’s heel did not seem like as imposing a weapon as she’d intended it to be.
The man standing on the threshold of the house was massive, filling up the entire frame with large, misshapen shoulders and a massive beard. He was wearing goggles, and overalls, and he clutched a massive hammer in his right hand.
Annabeth’s eyes took in a large steel brace tracing down the man’s leg to a pair of truly impressive boots that would not have looked out of place in a nuclear management facility.
Okay. Maybe the swimmer was right about this one.
“Hey Heph, how’s it going?” the swimmer asked weakly, pasting a smile onto his face and waving awkwardly like an idiot. Annabeth rolled her eyes.
The man grunted in recognition. “Jackson. We’re on schedule, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The swimmer–Jackson–nodded vaguely. Annabeth dug the heel just a touch into his back, a smirk appearing on her face as he jolted forwards slightly and shot her a dirty look.
“Um, yeah,” Jackson began, “So, your schedule. When…when are the guys taking a break?”
Heph laughed once, then burst into a roar of mirth. “Great joke, Jackson! I see what you’re trying to do!”
Jackson shifted uncertainly, and Annabeth was suddenly aware that in order to keep the heel in his back, Annabeth was pressed up against Jackson’s side, the warmth of his bare tanned skin radiating into her through the thin cotton of her shirt.
“I’m not trying to do anything,” Jackson said uncertainly.
Heph levelled an accusatory finger. “Hah! You know that our slogan is ‘Our Fire Never Goes Out’, don’t you, Jackson? Well, it’s true! Hephaestus Apostolous doesn’t stop until the job is done, never! One more week of all-round work is better than a month of slow breaks!”
Annabeth could feel the anger boiling up inside her, and she made to move forwards, only for Jackson to wrap an arm across her shoulders and shoot her another look.
Reluctantly, Annabeth settled back into Jackson’s grasp. It was steady and warm. Almost…nice.
“Come on, Heph,” Jackson prodded, “Isn’t Tyson doing a great job for his internship? You could down tools for a bit and let him take over. You know, to test him out.”
Heph screwed his face into what Annabeth figured was a thoughtful expression. Then he burst out in laughter.
Jackson and Annabeth exchanged uncertain glances. Something inside Annabeth was telling her that something was about to be said.
“Ah, Jackson, I like you,” Heph said gruffly. Then he dropped Annabeth a wink and proceeded to say, “If you wanted to enjoy some uninterrupted alone time with your girl, you should’ve said earlier!”
Annabeth’s cheeks flushed bright red, and Jackson released a choked sort of grunt from his throat.
The image of what they must look like flashed into Annabeth’s head; Jackson in just swimming trunks, Annabeth in a tank top and shorts, hair still messy, the two of them standing together so close. Then the rest of the sentence fully registered, and Annabeth’s mouth was moving faster than her brain could tell her that this was one of those really really bad ideas.
“Well, this idiot’s asking for it now,” Annabeth found herself saying. “It’s enough work listening to him as it is. And now I have to say it for him.”
Heph barked in laughter. “Well said, girl.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes, elbowing Jackson again. She let for West Coast accent drift into her voice a little more strongly. “But we would appreciate some silence. Because...well, I'm only in town for the week. Would you mind? Please?”
And Heph was looking between her and Jackson with an approving look. “Alright, Jackson. Tyson will take over tomorrow. And I’ll take the afternoon off; I’m finished with the bathroom anyway. The rest of the week...alright, we'll let up a little."
Heph pointed his hammer in Jackson's face. "This one's a keeper, Jackson. I can sense it.”
Jackson smiled, his face lighting up as he settled his arm around Annabeth's waist. Idly, Annabeth noted to herself that he was holding her with just the right amount of pressure, and she leaned into him, settling her head back against his shoulder.
"Well, I hope I can keep her," Jackson murmured, fixing Annabeth with an adoring gaze which Annabeth could've sworn was totally genuine. "I mean, who wouldn't? Pretty, a little violent, and smart enough to compensate for me."
"If that was a compliment, you'd better work on those," Annabeth jibed, the banter flowing freely and easily. "You're not getting away with subpar compliments just because you're cute."
"You're adorable when you're demanding," Jackson responded, smiling roguishly. "Sorry to take up your time, Heph, but we really appreciate it."
"Really appreciate it," Annabeth put in, as Jackson's body heat continued to radiate snugly into her back and side. Heph let out a long sigh, smiling sadly down at the two of them.
"Ah, young love," he said wistfully. "Things only ever got complicated between me and my wife. Alright, you two. Enjoy your time together."
“Thanks, Heph,” Annabeth flashed him a smile, and then took Jackson’s hand before he could protest. “Let’s go, Seaweed Brain.”
Annabeth managed to drag Jackson halfway to the lift lobby before Heph slammed the door shut, and the ramifications of everything she’d just done hit her like a man with an absurdly big hammer.
“So…” Jackson said, his cheeks red and unable to meet her eyes, “Um…what was that?”
“You’re welcome,” Annabeth said quickly, “I just halted the noise for you, Jackson. Be grateful. Now, you can go and take a shower.”
Annabeth wrinkled her nose at the slight tinge of chlorine floating in the air around Jackson.
“Seaweed Brain?” Jackson asked, a smile returning to his face. “Why seaweed?”
Annabeth snorted. “Your trunks are bright green, idiot.”
Jackson’s face flushed as he looked down at himself. Then he looked up with a mischievous grin.
“Looking at my trunks, Wise Girl?”
Annabeth sputtered a gibberish negative, her face flushing red again at certain…thoughts and implications.
“No!”
Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know, Wise Girl. I think you just said you wouldn’t mind being my girlfriend.”
Annabeth turned Piper’s shoe around and hit Jackson with the toe end.
“Ow!” Jackson grinned. “So…can I see you around? I mean, maybe I can take you on a date?”
Annabeth huffed. “I’ve got finals.”
“You go to Olympus too?” Jackson asked, sizing her up. “Let me guess…Drama.”
Annabeth actually laughed at that one. “Yes, Olympus. But drama? Really?”
Jackson shrugged. “Well, you acted like you were my girlfriend so well that even I totally believed it for a second. I was very confused as to when some cute, violent girl decided to make me her boyfriend. Very confused, but totally down.”
“Ha ha,” Annabeth crossed her arms. “What about you, Seaweed Brain? Don’t tell me you actually study seaweed.”
Jackson’s face developed an embarrassed look, and Annabeth let out a snort. “Wait, really?”
“Marine biology,” Jackson said defensively, “And I’ll have you know it’s really, really cool. Anyway, what about you? You never told me what you studied.”
Annabeth decided to keep him waiting. She pressed the lift button, raising an eyebrow at Jackson as he looked at her expectantly.
“Architecture,” Annabeth said. “And my final prep has been disrupted enough by the idiot who decided to renovate his house now, so, I’ve gotta go and make use of whatever peace I’ve just bought myself by pretending to be your girlfriend.”
The lift arrived with a soft chime.
“Alright, how about tomorrow?” Jackson persisted. “My finals ended yesterday, so I can swing by and…apologise.”
Annabeth stepped halfway into the lift, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Apologise for what?”
Jackson’s mouth opened, then closed. “For…for you having to pretend to be my girlfriend. Also, if this counts as a breakup, then I’d definitely want to get you back. Also, we're vertical neighbours, and apparently schoolmates, so...”
Annabeth bit her lip and stepped fully into the lift. “Keep me from that cursed knocking until my finals are over, and I’ll consider it, Jackson.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Jackson said, his face lighting up with a smile. “And please…can I know your name?”
The doors began to close.
“Annabeth,” she said.
“Annabeth,” Jackson repeated. “Hi, I’m P–”
The doors closed, and seconds later, Annabeth stepped back into the apartment.
“You’re welcome!” she yelled down the hallway. “I got the knocking to stop!”
Something else occurred to Annabeth, later that night, after she’d finally made significant progress on her finals project that blessedly quiet day, as she settled into her bed.
Why had Jackson wanted to introduce himself again? He knew that she already knew his name. Annabeth shrugged. It was probably nothing.
And that night, she slept better than she had in weeks.