It's that weird time of the year between Christmas and New Year and where nothing is really happening and you should probably get on with your life but you're waiting for the glorious week of inspiration that comes right after first of January, to actually get anything done—I probably had a point with this but honestly I couldn't have told you if I knew what it was.

Merry between Christmas and New Year folks!

The envelope was red and thick and emblazoned with a Christmas tree and had come with the rest of the greeting cards, so, all in all, it wasn't Percy's fault that he hadn't anticipated what it would carry. But it was, probably, his fault that he'd misplaced the mail before the big day and was unable to open any of the cards to prop up on their side table, the way they did every year.

Instead they'd decorated it with old Christmas pictures of their two children Marisol and Noah and new ones of their baby granddaughter, who'd come to visit on Christmas, partners in tow. It had been a joyful affair and later that night when they had all left, Annabeth and he had curled up on the sofa to watch old Christmas classics like the Love Actually and Silent Night, Deadly Night (because after infinite sit throughs of Grinch Who Stole Christmas During parenthood, they'd deserved this. They had however, made the exception for all three volumes of the Home Alone and a compulsory showing of A Christmas Carol.).

But yet, the cards came back to him. On his way to fix a morning cup of coffee for himself and Annabeth, he'd come across the pile of letters early on the morning of the 28th, and had immediately ripped open the envelopes—Jason and Piper's, and the Valdezs', and Thalia's, and the Solace-Di Angelos', and the Zhangs' and his mom's and Rachel's?

The contents of Rachel's Christmas cards were always a treat for the eyes. Illustrated by herself, the cards usually had as many Christmas motifs as Rachel could cram into the small white piece of cardboard, and often had a comic or two in there somewhere. Rachel, an activist and cartoonist, had travelled all over the world after passing on the Oracle's spirit, trotting all over the globe, from Paris to Tokyo to Mumbai to London to Johannesburg, before settling back down in upper Manhattan.

This year, the card was thick and embellished with Santa Clauses and reindeers and snowmen and pine trees, all lovingly etched by Rachel. Inside the card, she had calligraphed a simple Season's Greetings in black ink, signing it with a loopy love rach . Out of it fluttered down a piece of ruled paper, the type that Annabeth used for journaling. She always saved any thing long for phone calls and lined sheets, instead of cramming it into the card itself.

Dear Percy and Annabeth read the piece of paper in Rachel's scrawl. Rachel's handwriting always looked like she was writing while waiting for a bus despite the fact that she only wrote in leisure, seated at her big desk overlooking the Manhattan skyline.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Another year survived!

Sorry I can't make it to the Christmas Eve party this year since I'll be flying out to Helsinki for work on the 23rd. Cartooning work. Not activist work. That's a week at least. Reyna's joining me, but barely, and for just a couple of days. She's splitting up to go to Austria and Germany later on.

But hey, it would probably be weird with me coming alone since everyone else is scattered to the winds this time. Jason and Piper said they were spending Christmas in LA this year since her father is in the hospital right? And Leo and Calypso of course will be spending it with the kids in the Waystation, so Indiana for them, and there's Hazel and Frank in Canada and Grover's doing the nature conservatory thing in Cali, and Will and Nico are going to be coming back from Brazil on 25th.

Anywho, I'm rambling. I'm flying back to Manhattan on the 31st, so maybe we could meet up then? Considering of course, I don't die in JFK. Ah, that's one thing to look forward to—New Year's Eve in the hell known as NYC's airport. Fun. I'm getting way too old for this.

We aren't meeting up on the first. Nor on the second. Or third. You'll know why soon enough.

Give Marisol and Noah my love. Baby Jessie's first Christmas…oh, I really wish I was there. How's Mari doing with the whole Mom thing? How are you guys doing with the grandparents thing? It's been SO long since I've seen my niece and nephew and grand niece. We've got to do a meet up soon.

This letter really has nothing to do with Christmas I realise. It got very very away from me. It's alright I guess, how many different ways AM I going to wish you a Merry Christmas over this lifetime. It's not even one of our birthdays. (Which really begs the question: with the Greeks and the Romans and the Egyptians and the Nordics how come we've never come across Jesus? By all means, he should have shown up by now.)

That's it from me for now. Happy holidays.

Love,

Rachel E. Dare

P.S: There's more. Our excuse to meet up on the 31st. In Hell.

"No kidding," Percy agreed softly. He folded the letter carefully to put away in the draw later and propped the card on the coffee table. Then he shook out the two tickets tucked away safely in the envelope. "Oh good gods, Dare."

Full expenses paid one month Caribbean cruise for two. For a two. For a Perseus Jackson and an Annabeth Marie Chase. Food and accommodation inclusive. Left on the 1st (thank the gods he'd found it in time) and returned in the last week of January. How long had it been since he'd thought about a relaxing holiday in the Bahamas? Forty years? No. Definitely longer. A lifetime back. A lifetime of grandchildren, and parent-teacher meetings, and jobs, and their kids' school projects. A lifetime of wars and dying children and prophecies and baseless wishes of a break.

The bright pink post it tacked on to the tickets had a smiley face followed by a "Never did go on that trip, did you? Ah, at least you get to experience the wonders of the Caribbean with your true love. In January, which is the perfect season instead of freaking August.

"Well, that is it from me then. I hope no battle or summons of the Oracle spirits or stupid teenage boys interrupt your vacation. Happy freaking New Year. Here's to old wishes coming true."