i really can't explain to you how this happened except for the fact that i had this really old au crossover: post/126942135465/the-air-was-crisp-cool-and-brimy-during-the (i really suggest you look at the link before you read this) / and someone liked it, therefore prompting me to remember it and i just spent the whole day procrastinating in order to write this

also it's pure self-indulgence but let's not get into that

"You're much more interesting than I would have expected, Miss Chase."

"And you're much more trivial," Annabeth grumbled, hands gripping the wooden rail of the ship just a bit tighter. It was warm, heated from the sun, and a welcome change from the constant cool of the sea breeze. The air was briny on her tongue and it made her nose wrinkle, of course not as much as he did. She glanced to the side where he stood, all high and mighty with his broad shoulders, raven hair, tan, olive skin—"Aren't you supposed to be green?"

He smiled, "Did your boyfriend tell you that?"

She bit her lip, ducked her head out of sheer embarrassment. "Possibly." He stepped towards her and she turned to face him, scowl already set on her lips. He was arrogant and foolish and inconsiderate and, as tall as she was, he still towered over her, which forced her to crane her neck as he came closer.

"Well, if you must know, then yes, I can be green. I can be however I like, I'm a god, remember?" His eyes were gleaming, their color the same emerald as his father, his brother—only darker, much darker. Of all the gods she could have been stuck with, it had to be him. Of course, with the situation they'd been thrown into she was a bit relieved, maybe even grateful; if anyone could survive being lost at sea, it would have to be him. Yet, his lack of interest in their current dilemma had been grating on her nerves for far too long and she wasn't quite sure when exactly the bough would break. She did know, that he shouldn't be near her when it did.

"Yes, Lord Triton," She said. "You've made that quite clear, in the first. . .oh, two minutes we were here. Daddy issues? Not enough attention, I assume." Instead of the anger she'd been expecting, he laughed.

"You're as infuriating as they say." That peaked her interest.

"They say I'm infuriating? Why, what have I ever done?" Olympus gossip was—from what she had learned over many years of building up what had been turned to rubble—never as important as it had been made out to be, so she had stopped paying attention long ago. Gossip about her though. . .that made her wonder.

"Shouldn't you know?"

"No, I pay no mind to the ones who dislike me. They're useless."

"Useless?" He leaned closed to her, his face stopping just inches from hers. She inhaled sharply at his proximity, here it was again. Several times he had done this already, get far to close to her to be considered appropriate. After every instance, she wondered if he was doing this on purpose or if gods were unable to grasp the concept of boundaries. Either way, it left her feeling all to strange, and that bothered her. "You know, there's something venomous about you that I don't think you've realized."

She rolled her eyes, mostly to break away from his gaze. "Are you going to answer my question?" He took a deep breath, a pause in their conversation. On the exhale, his breath ghosted across his face, and she could smell the remnants of rum. It did not bother her as much as she hoped, the drink had grown on her.

"You're better," He stated. When he didn't continue, she raised a brow. "You're intelligent, brave—you've solved riddles they did not, faced challenges they have not, you bested the one place all gods' fear. You infuriate them, because you're better." Satisfaction swelled in her chest, heavy and addicting. A smile tried to force its way across her lips, but she shook her head, trying the best she could to hide it.

"No need to mask your pride when you're with me," He said. Her eyes traveled back to him, he hadn't stop staring at her.

"And why is that? Can you relate?"

"No," He murmured. His gaze flickered down and back up, so quick that if she'd blinked, she would've missed it. Her chest tightened, his motives were obvious. "I just don't see a point in trying to deny what you so clearly deserve." They'd talked themselves into a moment, it was warm and slow and tempting and she knew exactly where it was headed. With a slow step backwards she—hesitantly—broke it. He was caught off guard, with mouth agape and eyes unfocused; he regained his composure quick enough. After a moment's consideration, she spoke up.

"Despite your flattery, Lord Triton. I can assure you, I'm not better than everyone. Not at everything."

"Really?"

"Yes, I learned that long ago," She gestured to him. "Take you for example. You, your father, your brothers, Percy,"—she could see his shoulders tighten at the name—"any man or woman who might ever call the sea their home. I could never be better, the ocean is not my place. Pride is a dangerous thing, don't try to distract me from that."

"You're wrong." She turned to yell at him, rage growing fiercely within her, but it dissipated at his expression. It wasn't anger, nor was it frustration, but his jaw was set, with brows scrunched together, and eyes dark, like the ocean in a storm. It was disbelief, calculation, curiosity. "We've been on this ship for three days and you already know everything, what it is, how it works, how it's done. None of the men on this ship are ignorant, they know exactly who you are and they fear you."

"I've gained a reputation."

"No reputation can protect a Daughter of Athena at sea, and yet here you are. Completely unharmed."

"And? What does that mean?"

"There's something special about you, Annabeth Chase." He stopped then, with hand on the rail and the other resting against the pistol that had been stuffed hastily into the front of his trousers. His expression was creeping towards smug and she wondered how to kick him off his high horse before he even mounted it. There was one way and it was exactly these ideas that made her question just how useful her god-like reflexes were.

Stepping in closer to him, she let her hand rest against his chest, which proved effective as she witnessed his hand grip the rail tighter. He leaned forward without warning, and she pushed her hand up, letting it rest against the base of his neck; he got the message, froze in place. Silence stretched out between them as she pondered her options, until finally settling on a suitable route. With a steady voice, she spoke the truth, "I know." Then, she pushed past him, knocking him back against the wood and walked off, not daring to look over her shoulder.

He could have been joyous, upset, laughing for all she cared, but it wasn't his reaction that had her wringing her hands out in front of her. It was her own curiosity.

hope you enjoyed it! thanks so much for reading! reviews are always highly appreciated xxx