The Sun, the Sea, and Jason's Stupid Hat
They're at the beach again. The sand is warm between her toes and golden where the sunlight hits it, and the cool sea breeze feels perfect against her skin.
"I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life like this," Leo says from where he's stretched out on a beach towel, head pillowed on his arms. There's a book balanced on his face, but somehow he's still perfectly understandable, although for a second Piper thinks he's repeating himself. Still, talking to Leo can be like that. "No quests, no gods, no monsters trying to kill us – just the sun, the sea, and Jason's stupid hat."
Jason laughs and pulls his hat down further. Piper looks at it contemplatively. It is a very stupid hat, she thinks. It's neon green, for one thing, clashing horrendously with Jason's blond hair. It's shaped like an umbrella, held on by a plastic headband, and around the rim is a frill of three inch long purple tassels that he keeps pausing to brush out of his eyes.
It looks awful. Piper wants one just like it.
She stretches, and stands up to begin the Quest of Epic Proportions of finding an equally horrendous hat, dragging Leo up with her. Apparently there's a man selling them on the pier a mile or so down the beach – longer than she'd like to walk, but clearly worth it.
"You coming?" She calls back over her shoulder, and Jason heaves himself up. He throws her the bag with her sunglasses, the suncream and their money, but it slides through her hands, shedding a light rain of sand as it falls.
She bends to pick it up, and in the moment it takes for her to stand up the other two are already running down the beach, flip flops skittering. Piper frowns. She grabs her sunglasses out of the bag, slings it across her shoulders, and takes off after them. It's not long before she's caught them up and chucked the bag back at Jason, starting a game of hot potato that lasts most of the way down the beach.
Piper and Jason are a little faster than Leo, so have almost reached the pier when Jason gives up, claiming a stitch. He staggers the last few feet and collapses onto the boardwalk stairs in a melodramatic pile of limbs.
Piper shrugs, and throws herself down next to him. The bag's still a familiar blue shape near their feet, but though she keeps an eye on it the competition's forgotten. "Too much for you?" She teases. "The Titan Krios a piece of cake, but you're laid low by a bit of sand?"
"Too much for me," Jason grins, and rests his head in her shoulder. His glasses are askew and digging into the side of his head as he squints up at her, but he doesn't seem to mind.
Piper hums, carding her fingers through his hair. "Such a mighty warrior."
She can't stop her eyes from catching on the scar under his lip. Jason's gazing lazily up from under his eyelashes, and it feels like the perfect moment to bend and kiss him.
His lips are salty, like the sea air, but the familiar taste of ozone is still there if she's willing to look for it – and she's willing.
Piper's just about to deepen the kiss when Leo interrupts them, out of breath and panting. "Last man standing," he crows. "Victory is mine, and… you're… doing that."
He pulls himself halfway up onto the boardwalk and squirms the rest of the way in an undignified flopping shuffle. "Come on! We haven't got all day."
And with that they're off again, ducking past other beachgoers and avoiding the puddles of melted ice cream and chips near the cafés. The shop names are ridiculous – a chippie named A Likely Tail, a sand-art-stand named Sand-ard Deviation, a souvenir shop named Bucket the Trend – and it's when Leo's snickering at a teahouse named Eterni-Tea that Jason spots the man he bought his hat from, running a kiosk called Hats in the Belfry. The sign is decorated with tiny bats wearing baseball caps, fedoras, straw hats and bonnets, but the kiosk is also selling sunglasses, sarongs and blue plastic hairbrushes, among other things.
"Hey!" The guy calls out as they approach. "I recognise you!"
He's everything Piper expected from the man selling that monstrosity of a hat. He's wearing diagonally striped lime green and lemon yellow cargo shorts, and a rainbow tie dyed poncho over a violet dress shirt a size or so too small. He's sporting orange polka-dotted pink flip flops, and a similar hat to Jason's over shoulder length ginger curls, but the crowning glory is his sunglasses. They're a glittery golden plastic, and look to be slightly melted, but, more importantly, they're shaped like pineapples wearing sunglasses. A faded tag dangles from one of the arms, round and orange and proclaiming Sale! Buy One Get One Free! It bobs mesmerizingly every time the guy moves his head. Piper can't look away.
"Hey," Jason grins back. "Have you got anything else like the hat you sold me?"
"Absolutely!" The guy chortles, and starts rummaging under the counter. "Couldn't resist coming back for more, eh?"
"It is my goal, my quest, indeed my duty," Leo says with a dramatic flourish, "to outdo Jason here in all things, particularly hats."
The guy laughs, but then there's a thud from under the counter and he winces. "Scuse me a minute," he says, and vanishes. He reappears a second or so later looking disappointed.
"I'm afraid I'm sold out today. I'll be sure to have more by tomorrow, though."
The three demigods share a look. They all know that they might not be anywhere near the beach by tomorrow.
"That's a pity," Jason says, as ever the group's natural spokesperson. "We'll be sure to drop by if we're around."
"That might not be for a while though," Piper feels required to warn him. "We were planning on taking a trip. It might take some time."
"Oh?" The man's sunglasses slide down his nose, but he makes no effort to push them back up. Behind the frames, his eyes are golden as the tacky plastic pineapples, pupil-less and eery. "Are you sure about that?"
They're at the beach again. The sand is warm between her toes and golden where the sunlight hits it, and the cool sea breeze feels perfect against her skin.
"I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life like this," Leo says from where he's stretched out on a beach towel, head pillowed on his arms. There's a book balanced on his face, but somehow he's still perfectly understandable, although for a second Piper thinks he's repeating himself. Still, talking to Leo can be like that.
A/n: PLEASE ASSUME THAT I HAVE NOT READ ANY OF THE TRIALS OF APOLLO SERIES, ANY SPOILERS WILL MAKE ME SAD
Written in a bit of a rush for C/P Sells Seashells by the Seashore Event, let me know if you spot any errors! Do you have a stupid hat? I've got a great one for on the beach that's literally just an umbrella hat, it's fantastic.