We all knew Percy was stupid.

"How can I do that?"

Perhaps Percy shouldn't have asked. He had a sense of self preservation, that is, and without a doubt this was the worst stunt he had resigned himself to go through with.

What was he thinking?!

Blackjack whinnied in agreed protest. Don't ask me, Boss. She's your girlfriend.

The things I do for love, Percy groaned inwardly. But he was here now, and until Annabeth's invisibility cap returned to her possession, he was going to stay here. And that meant flying above a hundred thousand hellhounds that all shared similar size, shape, and the intent to eat him and Blackjack alive.

You could start by finding, your troublesome pet, Blackjack snorted, tipping his wings to send them toward the less densely packed side of what Percy called "Hellhound Heaven".

Honestly, Percy wouldn't have been there if Mrs. O'Leary had more self control when it came to Annabeth's cap. The situation was simple, really. Annabeth, in the heat of a…stressed moment, impaled one of the camp's dummies with her knife and dropped her cap before storming out of the arena where several white-faced campers had been training. Percy though he would collect her items and go after her to see what was on her mind when a certain hellhound, wanting to be helpful, scooped up her precious Yankees cap and promptly shadow-traveled straight to the underworld. Why Hellhound Heaven, Percy didn't know. It wasn't for him to understand the mind of a monster– *Ahem* "death-machine turned lovable, slobbery pet".

So in the spirit of being a good boyfriend, Percy called Blackjack to fly him into the nearest underworld entrance. Other than flocks of irritated pigeons, that part of the journey went well. Getting back her cap would be no problem. Simple…if he had that whistle Quintus had given him a few years back, and if it hadn't broken, and if it wouldn't alert every hellhound beneath them to their position in the air above them all.

Sometimes, Percy had the worst of luck.

Percy leaned forward onto Blackjack's neck, squinting at the sea of monsters milling below. There was every chance Mrs. O'Leary dropped the cap on her way here, but that reduced his chances of reclaiming the item. Percy couldn't let that happen.

Boss!

Percy felt himself start to slide off Blackjack's slick hide. His muscles jolted, and he just avoided falling thanks to Blackjack's quick warning.

Well, now that he was done almost-dying as hellhound chowder, he could get back to his original query: How to get the cap? Finding the right hellhound was doable, but really, how could he get down there and back up without attracting attention from the other oversized dog-like creatures?

"What if I call her?" Percy mumbled aloud. "No, then they would all know I'm here." The fact that they didn't smell him already surprised him.

Maybe you could get that skeleton kid, Blackjack suggested.

"Nico?" Percy grunted. "Uh…" First of all, Nico had long since disappeared with no way of finding him. And that was really enough reason for Percy not to contemplate the idea more.

Well, generator-of-bright-ideas, what do you suggest?

Percy bit his lip. No one at camp doubted he was part insane and part crazy, but this was certainly his worst idea. Releasing his hold on Blackjack's mane, Percy let himself slide from his back and freefall into the chaos below.

Boss! Blackjack dived after him.

No, Blackjack. Percy thought as he fell, trying not to let his sudden rising terror breach the connection. Not yet.

Bouncing on the back of a hellhound, Percy tumbled off and face-planted on the ground. The first hellhound turned, bumping into the others around it. Still on the ground, Percy reached for his pocket, hand searching frantically for Riptide. Why hadn't he thought to get it out before falling? Sometimes, Percy really hated hindsight.

The monsters growled, threatening and low. Mere seconds and Percy would be dinner. But Anaklusmos wasn't in his pocket. Turning over, Percy dug his hands into each of his pockets. No, no, no, no, no. The glowing red eyes met his darting green ones. As plans went, this one was going a little too well for his liking. The object had been to put himself in danger so the overprotective hound would search him out. But, if he didn't survive until then…

What was more important? Annabeth's happiness or his life?

Thankfully Percy was spared the decision as inspiration reminded him of his ungraceful landing seconds previous. With luck – as if – the pen had rolled only a short distance away after escaping his possession. On hands and knees now, Percy scanned the ground. The red eyes stared through him, and he could feel the hot breath from the dozen facing him. Where was it?!

Come on, come on, Percy moved his hands, swiping the ground. His right hand closed on something, and he brought it around in desperation. Yes! Tearing the pen cap off, Percy brandished the sword in time to catch the gaping jaws aimed for his throat.

Boss, Blackjack still flew overhead.

"I'm good," Percy shouted, slowly fighting his way to a stand. Oh, this had been a bad idea. Was it worth it? "Hey, Blackjack, do you see Mrs. O' Leary headed toward me?"

Blackjack took a jarring moment to answer. Percy realized that killing monsters here wasn't going to be so easy. After all, he was in the underworld. Plunging his sword in to the hilt in one of his neighboring hellhounds, Percy drew a breath to ask what was taking Blackjack so long, but he answered right then.

If your plan was to draw her to you and she is in this crowd, you have succeeded. Every dog in the park is coming toward you.

Good to know.

Percy kicked a large snout away from him. "MRS. O'LEARY!" he screeched.

A booming bark greeted him, echoing off the cavern walls. It sounded distant, and the call rebounded among the other hellhounds, but the sound comforted Percy somewhat. Kicking, slashing, and stabbing, Percy continued to call for Mrs. O'Leary. A scratch here and there, and that nasty bite on his calf wasn't too much to worry about, but if he stayed much longer, he swore he would call Blackjack to come collect him. Percy never liked forfeiting a fight, but all around him was hell. Literally.

The circle of drooling mouths broke suddenly as most leaped out of the way of a giant shadow bounding straight toward him. Percy raised his sword defensively. Mrs. O'Leary? Red eyes seethed with evil. Percy shuddered and scrambled backwards on instinct. This one was huge. Much bigger than Mrs. O'Leary by a long shot.

Percy raised his sword…and immediately found his face reacquainted with the ground. Mrs. O'Leary stood to her full height, dropping a certain ragged Yankees cap on Percy's head as she growled defensively at the new hellhound.

"Can't," Percy coughed, "breathe!" Needless to say, his pet weighed a literal ton.

She yapped and growled before nosing his crushed body onto its feet. Percy gasped and swayed; she urged him onto her back. Without warning, Mrs. O'Leary plunged through the furry bodies heading for the deepest shadows at the end of the cavern. With the little sense of mind Percy still had, he clung to her fur with one hand and clutched the cap in his other.

What do you want me to do? Blackjack followed their path above them.

Percy glanced up, "See you later?" He then muttered with a weak and raspy voice, "Where're we going, girl?"

Mrs. O'Leary just sped up her running and tore through the shadows, ripping through the miles between them and home.

They broke through at the hill overlooking Camp Half-blood, and Percy rolled off her onto the fresh-cut grass, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Never," he addressed the watchful eyes of his beloved pet, "ever sit on me again."

She yipped happily, before getting all motherly and licking the blood seeping through on his leg and right arm. He hadn't realized it in the moment of danger, but he probably needed medical attention. But one more thing before he tipped over and took a week-long nap.

Percy arrived at the Athena cabin, limping, but in a generally good mood. One of the campers sat on the steps outside the open door. Cursing from inside almost drowned the girl's warning, "If you value your life, don't go in there right now." Well, Percy had already disregarded his life once today by jumping into a pit of hellhounds. But then, murderous girlfriends were another monster entirely. Pausing, Percy admitted to himself that, if given the choice, he'd take millions of monsters over one angry girl any day.

Inside Annabeth knelt in the remains of bedding, equipment, and personal possessions. Her manner rivaled any camper in the Aeres cabin. It had been a bad day before. Now it looked like she was ready to kill. Percy wondered if he should come back later. He motioned to step out again when Annabeth glanced over, freezing him in place with that one look.

Her eyes widened. Her shoulders dropped, the tension rolling away. Percy hoped it was his presence, but her eyes were on the item in his hands.

"You found it?" She stood up.

"Uh…yeah." Percy held it out like a peace offering.

Annabeth inhaled deeply before taking the precious item and examining it. Finding it to be in little worse wear than hours before, she hugged it briefly in near relief and said, "Thank you."

"Don't I get something else, like a kiss for being an awesome boyfriend?" Percy dared ask.

"Oh, yes," she smiled, seemingly better now. Girls and their mood swings. "Of course." She kissed the tips of her fingers and then pressed them to his forehead.

"Hey," he protested and pouted for a bit before Annabeth pulled him around and pressed a real kiss on his lips.

He grinned idiotically when she pulled back again. She smiled easily. Oh, what Percy wouldn't do for that fond look she wore right then, but her next words had him snapped from his daze and rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

"What happened to you?"

I'm not big on romance in stories bar three OTPs I have, and this is one of them. I randomly had that last little scene as an idea during class one day, and is gave way to this fic. And yeah, that was kind of a light crackfic, but whatever. *shrugs* Hope you enjoyed!

-Dante