They were shopping. The mall was overcrowded with people from all backgrounds and origins. All of them bustling in their own hurries to get on with their day to day lives.

He had came here with Odysseus, originally, for sweets. His supply was low, not to mention he wanted some new posters for his cabin. Somehow from then to now Odysseus had managed to turn their small list into three pages long, front and back. How they were going to sneak all of this back in to camp was beyond him. Sure, Mr D wasn't all that concerned when a few of them sneaked out. But Chiron... the centaur missed nothing.

They had went for the Aphrodite kids things first. Theirs took the longest since the two of them had to fight through hordes of teenage girls and shop assistants to the right products. Even then they had a bit of trouble. Creams and lotions all looked the same to him. After they had got the make-ups they were left looking at hair straighteners and other torture looking devices.

They finally finished with the Aphrodite kids things around noon. Achilles, being invincible from a week old, was charged with holding all the heavy bags as they went after the Hermes kids things next. They were much easier to get. Sweets and fizzy drinks, things Achilles loved. They finished with that list much quicker than the other one.

"Ares cabin wants a fold-able chair," Achilles read off. "Why do they want a chair?"

"They caught one of the Hermes kids in their cabin last night. They're going to tie him up and pelt him with last night's chile when we get back," Odysseus replied.

Immediately Achilles was on guard. While it was true everyone had to be careful when around a child of Hermes, when they did something like sneak into the Ares cabin they were barely ever caught. To be so now... Odysseus was up to something.

He put that thought away. He didn't want to get involved, he'd leave that up to Odysseus at a later date.

When they had finished the last of the other cabin's demands they went for their own. Odysseus had the familiar stops at the book shop and the hardware store. However there was one stop that made Achilles eyebrow raise.

"Why are we at the pharmacy? You're not ill are you?" He kept a wide berth. That was all he needed, catching a common cold when chariot season was starting.

"No," Odysseus said.

It turned out he wanted something worse than cough medicine.

"Three tubes?" Achilles hissed.

Odysseus just smirked at him, loading another tube of lube into his basket. "We like to let off steam after a hard day."

Achilles could hear the sarcasm, but the image wouldn't leave him of the thirteen grey eyed kids that glared every time he went past, tossing off. It didn't help when Odysseus tossed in a horde of condoms, looking him the eye as he did so.

It was just like Odysseus to pay for them with a straight face, even asking which kind was better to the embarrassed retail assistant. He didn't mention what he needed them for all the way to the music shop. Achilles didn't say anything either. What Odysseus might actually need them for was probably worse than thirteen grey eyed kids tossing off.

CD players beckoned out to him. What he would have wished for a CD player. Unfortunately Thetis being a water Goddess meant no plugs in the cabin. A true problem he needed to bring up at the next cabin meeting. Or at least get an Ipod.

For now however, he was content with plastering his walls with his favourite musicians. Thankfully he was the only one in his cabin. It was lonely at times, but right now it meant he could decorate the whole place without anyone complaining.

He found his posters in minutes, and was making to pay when he saw him.

He was like a model. Or he would have been had he not hunched in on himself. He looked to be Achilles age, sixteen/ seventeen. Standing with an older man, who had to be his father, he thankfully only had the man's jawline. The rest of his looks came from his mother's side. The woman herself was staring dreamily at the salesperson playing the piano. Her face was round, exotic, and far more appealing on her son.

"You're staring," Odysseus sang. Achilles would have been annoyed if it weren't for the frown on his face. He'd seen that look far too many times in the three years they had known each other.

"Monster?"

His fingers went for the spear he kept in his pocket. Shrunken down into a gold headband it itched to turn back into the golden beauty he had received on his first day at camp.

Odysseus shook his head, "No." Yet the frown didn't leave his face. "Just pay for your music. Even if there isn't any monsters now, there might be."

Huffing, Achilles did as he was bid. Hoisting his posters high he made for the till, only to find his legs taking him to the boy. He wondered of it was just piano music he liked. Achilles lyre came to mind. An unusual instrument for a modern boy, but one he just felt right in his hands. He wondered if the boy would like to hear him play.

The father was looking bored as he neared. Shuffling his feet, he looked about three minutes away from dragging his wife and son out. Panicked, Achilles closed the distance.

"You look more like a cellist than a pianist," Achilles opened with. It was the best he could come up with on short notice. Not to mention he thought it might be true. His fingers were long and smooth, just right to grasp the handle of a string instrument.

"I can't play either," The boy said. It was hard to tell with his dark skin but Achilles was sure the boy blushed.

"I'm sure you could if you tried."

The boy let loose a little grin. As he did so, Achilles watched as his shoulders straightened. "And how do you figure that then?"

A boasting, self satisfied grin slipped onto Achilles face. One people usually saw when he was pointing his spear at their throats. "I don't lie."

The boy huffed, looking like the sun had just paid him a visit. His mouth opened in some retort that was bound to make his heart melt when his father cut in with a hand on his shoulder. Immediately the boy shrank in on himself, an uneasy feeling came over Achilles just watching that display.

"I'd thank you not to talk to my son," He more growled than said.

Maybe this man was a monster, Achilles thought. He certainly sounded like one.

A hand pulled him, almost stumbling down. Odysseus. The eighteen year old knew Achilles better than he did himself. Knew when to step in so he wouldn't harm an attractive boys father.

The haze of anger that came over him fled quickly. Chiron was already going to give him an earful for sneaking out, Achilles thought, best not to add endangerment to mortals to his list of crimes.

So as Odysseus made the last of their excuses, "... dropped in a river at birth you see..." Achilles dusted himself off and allowed himself to be dragged out.

"My posters," Achilles protested weakly. He was trying to look behind him for a last look at the boy. His dark curls disappearing as they rounded the corner.

It was like being released from a spell. Achilles felt the air grow stale around him. Colour no longer seemed as bright. His soul even felt stretched, as stupid as that sounded. He just felt like everything good in the world had been left behind in that music shop.

"Achilles!"

He batted away Odysseus' hands as they came to flick him again.

"Focus for Zeus' sake, if we're going to get out of here alive I need your full attention."

He readied himself as the bags were, once again, thrust into his hands. Once all of them were set they headed towards the nearest exit. If they were lucky they would make the four o clock bus. If they were unlucky... Odysseus was already pissy.

They were standing at the bus stop. Achilles thanking every God he could think of that he had immortal blood. The bags were weighing him down. On a mortal he was sure their arms would have dropped off by now.

The bus was taking its time. A bad omen for people like them. Or perhaps a good one, Achilles thought, as a horde of curls ran nearer to him. It was the boy from the music shop. Alone but harried, he was making straight for them.

"Wait," He shouted, like Achilles was about to board the bus that hadn't came.

He was just as handsome as Achilles remembered. Even more so now the sun shone off his bronze skin. How Achilles would like to murmur Greek nothings into that skin...

"Don't do anything stupid," Odysseus warned, reminding him of his presence there.

"Like what?" He hissed before shutting up and giving the boy his full attention. "Hi," he was sure he was grinning stupidly.

"Hi," the boy breathed back. He thrust a bag out in front of him, "You left this at the shop."

It wasn't a bag he was familiar with. When he looked inside he found the posters he had left in the music shop. The boy had bought them for him. Achilles thought the boy couldn't get any more perfect.

Now he knew a dopey smile was on his face as he said, "Thanks."

The boy held his hand out to shake, dropping it when he noticed the rest of the bags. Achilles didn't care. He'd throw all this crap in the Styx if the boy wanted a hand shake. But the hand didn't come back up. Instead Achilles got something much better.

"Patroclus," The boy rushed out, "My name that is. It's Patroclus."

Achilles felt like laughing and did so. Fate was being kind to him.

The boy, Patroclus, didn't see what was so funny however. He looked insulter actually as Achilles continued laughing.

"No," Achilles rushed, as he realised his mistake. "I'm not laughing at you. Patroclus. It's a good name. Perfect in fact. I only laughed because... well my name is Achilles."

Patroclus frowned, an adorable crease in his smooth skin that Achilles wanted to memorise. "Like the tendon."

"The hero," Odysseus cut in. "He prefers the hero."

Only the second child to be born by Thetis and his mother wasn't all that original with his name, or his life. Sometimes he felt like he was reliving the original Achilles' life. Right now he honestly didn't care. Not if Achilles' Patroclus was this boy in front of him.

Awareness came over Patroclus. A small 'oh' escaping. His frown didn't lesson however as he asked, "So what does that have to do with my name?"

Achilles almost slammed Odysseus to the ground for his exasperated "Really?" like Patroclus was an idiot. Honestly, he thought, just because they knew about the myths didn't mean everyone did.

"It's not important," Achilles amended. "But Patroclus is a great name."

"So's yours," Patroclus grinned at him. The two of them standing there like idiots as they stared at each other.

Achilles thought he could do that for years without getting tired of him. Just looking until he could bring the image up wherever he went.

Unfortunately for him that wasn't possible. Patroclus' father had gotten tired of waiting wherever he was and went in search of him. By the way his face contorted Achilles gathered the man wasn't happy his son had doing a good deed. Shouting him over, the smiling idiot Patroclus had been left. In its place was a boy who actually flinched at the sound of his own father.

Achilles wondered why on the way along Long Island. Patroclus was old enough to at least shout back at his father. Hera knew he told his mother off enough times and she was a goddess. Not to mention he was smart, he could probably think up a number of ways to get away from his father. Well he thought Patroclus was smart. Anyone who remembered the tendon rather than the hero when hearing his name had to me.

He was snapped out of his musings by Odysseus. His friend had been rifling through their bags for something only to laugh like a banshee the next. When asked what, he just handed over Achilles' posters to him. He felt his blood run cold. Alongside his posters was a tube of strawberry lube and a sizeable cock ring with a little note attached.

You dropped this

Along with a phone number and Patroclus' full name.

"When did you buy this?" Achilles choked out. Not what he meant to say but his mind wasn't working right now.

"When you turned your back," Odysseus chuckled. Rolling his eyes he took the items out and transferred them to his own bag. "I'm planning on using it for-"

"No! We're too good friends to share" Achilles snapped.

Odysseus laughed again. "You should be thanking me. You have his phone number thanks to this stunt."

"Just shut up."

Off the bus, they made the climb up Half Blood Hill with ease. While not being attacked every minute by monsters they were still surprised when their trip out had went off without a hitch. Of course their luck ran out as soon as they were back in safe territory.

Chiron, his sternest gaze on and seeming three feet taller than usual was waiting for them at the bottom. Chastised was a soft word for what Chiron gave them. Mr D was a little better. After hours of threats of mutilation and being changed into dolphins they were let go.

The rest of camp was disappointed in them. Chiron had taken their goods. So much sugar was bad for them. No argument of it being the other kids money they spent had worked on the centaur. In fact, it inspired even more lengthy talks about how stupid their little outing had been.

"We weren't in any danger," Odysseus scoffed, more to himself than Achilles. "I'm not exactly big three, and you being the spawn of a minor Goddess... it was unlikely we would actually be sniffed out."

"You should save your breath for your siblings," Achilles warned. They were cresting the pavilion. The twelve main cabins were gleaming out at them, their campers glaring from the doorways. As Achilles looked he saw Odysseus' siblings giving them one of the most evil looks out of everyone. "Or at least the Ares cabin," Achilles corrected as they made themselves known.

He made sure to run off before Odysseus tried to get him in more trouble with them.

His own cabin was waiting on the outskirts. Near the ocean and one of the last ones to be built it was still a work in progress. Small, with white and grey walls that looked like sea foam. Little rocks lead to his front door, somehow they always seemed to be wet.

The inside was bare save for Achilles things littering the floor. He wished he had his posters. They would have brightened up the place a little bit.

Sighing, at least he had Patroclus' phone number. He'd clutched on to that as soon as he'd seen it. His dyslexia, naturally, made it hard to read the numbers. It took him a frustrating hour to decipher them. Even longer to remember them since he kept forgetting and having to make them out again. But when he did have it, he took care to look over every individual number. Every loopy 0 and every straight 1. They were just as interesting as Patroclus himself to Achilles.

He wished he had a picture of him. Just something to look at so he didn't have to concentrate on thinking about him. Odysseus would be calling him creepy by now. He should think himself creepy too. He didn't even know this kid. But... he just seemed so familiar. He knew from their brief meeting that he was kind. He had kind eyes. Those hands as well... Not to mention he liked music. Achilles bet he sat and listened to it as much as he could. He would probably be like his mother when he was alone. Listening with such rapt attention to things Achilles couldn't even guess at.

His lyre called to him from that thought. He heeded it with a stretch of his arm. Strumming lightly he composed and played until he could put a tune to those big brown eyes.

He hadn't realised how late it was until someone knocked on his door. Chiron was on the other side, a blare of orange behind him as the sun set. His hooves scuffed the dirt, an air of unease in every swish of his tail.

"You're late for dinner," The centaur hinted, moving aside to let him out.

Sorry."

The centaur waved his apologies away to hurry him over to the pavilion. Achilles thought he was in trouble. Chiron never came to get campers himself. Not usually anyway. He thought about the condoms Odysseus had bought earlier. He really hated his friend.

"That was an interesting tune," the centaur eventually said.

"You've heard it before?" Achilles groaned. It wasn't the first time he had created something he thought was original, only for Chiron to say its name and comment on how well Achilles played. The centaur said it was because he was an old soul. Achilles often wondered how old.

The centaur was nodding now. Confirming that Achilles had no hope for an original piece with this one. "Once upon a time. A boy much like yourself made it up. Dare I ask the reason for its playing now?"

Achilles shrugged, "I was thinking about Patroclus."

The centaur stopped dead in his tracks. Strong arms grasped his shoulders, "What?"

Realising his mistake Achilles laughed, "No. I was thinking about a boy we met at the mall. His name was Patroclus. Do you think it's fate?" he asked eagerly.

"Perhaps," the centaur mused., looking more calm. His hands released him as he trotted forwards again. "But I wouldn't think down that path if I were you. A certain someone might not be too happy with your interaction with this mortal."

Achilles knew which certain someone Chiron meant and wholeheartedly agreed. His mother hated mortals as a whole. If she didn't need their devotion to continue existing Achilles thought she might have killed them all herself. If she even got wind of another mortal, and one called Patroclus, hanging around Achilles, he was sure to be in trouble.

The other campers didn't bat an eye as he walked to his table. Usually they would be clambering around him. He had an uncanny knack for fighting to start, and people were always issuing challenges to him. It all came from being invulnerable. Apparently the original Achilles hadn't actually been bathed in the river Styx as a child, Thetis wanted to rectify that with him. They also liked talking to him because, along with Odysseus, they had a natural with Ancient Greek. Most of the time they wanted to try their pronunciation on them and often asked for tutoring. Achilles though it was because he was, like Chiron said, 'an old soul.' An old soul who was probably Greek. It made sense. Most of the time he preferred speaking it to English. His first word was apparently Greek, and most of Odysseus' conspiring was done in Greek.

Now however they were ignoring him. Something Achilles was okay with. Sometimes he didn't like the attention people gave him. It was suffocating. With invulnerability comes expectation apparently.

Unfortunately for him this ignorance didn't spread to Odysseus. His friend managed to corner him at the fire as he sacrificed most of his meal to his mother. With the few minutes it took to do so Odysseus had managed to tell Achilles of his plan.

"... are you in?" He finished, the pair of them walking slowly back to their respective benches.

"Do you really need me?"

Odysseus shot him a dark look before he turned a coy brow on him. Negotiation was always a factor in his plans. "If you help I'll let you keep the strawberry lube."

"Pass," He hissed, pushing past his smirking friend.

Odysseus wasn't one to give up. Just before he parted he gave his real bargaining item up, "I have a phone that's all yours if you help." Leaving before Achilles could even form a response.

He was thinking over Odysseus' offer later that night.

He didn't have a phone. His father had given him one when he was thirteen. To be used in emergencies and chatting with his friends. It had been good for all of three weeks. People had given him his number and he had responded like they wanted. If only he knew that phones sent off a signal to monsters. He was ambushed for weeks before finally smashing the phone. His father hadn't given him another one since. Especially when he went to Camp Half Blood. The warning Chiron gave him meant paper and pen for the two of them while Achilles was at camp.

He supposed he could always borrow someone's phone and ask for Patroclus' address. Explain that he didn't have a phone himself and would prefer to write instead. Patroclus would probably write tonnes. He looked quiet, but on paper everyone was different.

With writing however came another obstacle. His dyslexia. He had good grades because Odysseus forced him to learn. When reading letters however, even those from his father, he often lost interest or grew frustrated and threw them away. Then there was his own writing, while he usually starts off in English it usually ended up Greek. He didn't want to grow bored with Patroclus' writing. Or Patroclus think he was joking with him and not send him any letters.

He needed that phone.

At breakfast he said so to Odysseus.

"After we finish getting our stuff back," his friend smirked.

The operation was simple. Achilles was to cause a fight while Odysseus scoured the Big House for their stuff.

With so many people upset with him it wasn't hard to find someone angry at him. However it would take more than one fight for Chiron to leave one of Mr D's games. So instead he started a war.

The Aphrodite kids were busy swarming around Camp Half Blood's newest couple, which meant their cabin was empty. It was all too easy for him to sneak in and steal all of their hair straighteners and curlers. Planting them in the Demeter cabin he just had to wait.

Sure enough ten minutes later they were screaming about their missing items. Achilles pointed them in the right direction, knowing they would believe him because he didn't like to lie.

In under an hour the Aphrodite kids had picked up their weapons and were marching to war. As soon as Chiron left Odysseus went into action. Mr D wasn't all that concerned with them. So long as they didn't interrupt his fun he didn't care that they sneaked around. Therefore Odysseus was out with their things long before Chiron came back.

Achilles met him at the arena. Already they had a small crowd grabbing their purchases. Odysseus left them to it.

"He didn't even hide them," Odysseus said. "He probably knew we were going to get them back."

"Probably," Achilles agreed, taking the lube his friend thrust at him. "Now get me that phone."

He didn't look at the thing until he was back from dinner.

"I can do this," He said to himself. Patroclus' number was glaring at him. The black ink was taunting him. He wasn't a coward, he could do this. So he picked up the device and did just that. He called Patroclus.

At the third ring Achilles knew this was a good idea.

"Hello?"

He even sounded pretty on the phone. How that was possible Achilles didn't know.

It was an awkward beginning. The two of them making sure they were the boy they saw the day before. After that Achilles dove straight into the multitude of questions he wanted answering. Did Patroclus really like music? Yes, he did. The reason they were at the music shop to begin with was so he could find an instrument. His father, while hating the whole concept of music, agreed that Patroclus should try and find something that would look good on a college application.

Achilles told Patroclus about his lyre after that. Telling him that was rather good. Even proposing Patroclus listen to him play some time. He was grinning like an idiot when Patroclus accepted.

They spent hours talking to each other. It was only when someone knocked on his cabin telling him it was lights out that he realized how late it was. Neither of them wanted to hang up. They ended up making plans to talk the next day.

He fell asleep when they finished with the biggest grin on his face, that stayed there all through breakfast. Odysseus took pride in making fun of him for it.

Around noon, just as he finished picking his arrows out of their target, Odysseus cornered him again. "Capture the flag's in two days."

Achilles sighed. "What do you want?"

Odysseus was never usually concerned with capture the flag. To him it was pointless. If he wanted to try out his war strategies, he said, he would start a real war. Which he did more often than not. Achilles still cringed when thinking back on the Ares Hermes war Odysseus had started, and finished, within a whole week.

To be thinking about capture the flag now could only mean he had an ulterior motive. One Achilles didn't want to be a part of.

His friend was used to this resistance however and knew how to play Achilles just right.

"I want to know if you're on my team."

"I'm not playing," Achilles told him.

A condescending smirk came to Odysseus' face. 'Sure you're not' he seemed to say. "Then how about the chariot races? With my cabin leader off on a quest, it's up to me to keep Athena's pride."

"No."

"Then how about a friendly sparring match?"

Achilles looked him over, "What do you want?" he asked again.

Odysseus rolled his eyes, all signs of pretence gone. "Fine, I want your help escaping this place again."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "Excitement. Freedom. A chance to see your Patroclus..."

"Don't even try," Achilles warned. There was no way he was using Patroclus to get Achilles to help him.

"Why not? You can't be satisfied with just phoning him."

"We just met two days ago," Achilles protested, even if he did have the urge to see Patroclus again.

"All the more reason to see him again," Odysseus argued.

The pair of them stopped talking when Chiron came near. The archery master cast them a suspicious look before trotting on. He was still near enough to hear them however. The centaur had learnt over the years when the two of them were in cahoots. He finally left them alone when all they talked about was the new bronze tipped arrows the Hepheaston cabin had made.

Out of sight and Odysseus started again. "You're not exactly unattractive Achilles. But time away from Patroclus, with only the phone to talk, could make his eyes start to wander."

"It's not working," He said. "Try again in a few days."

Odysseus smirked, that was what he wanted after all. "Will do."

Which he followed up on a few days later. It had only been a week since he had met Patroclus. Every evening they would spend it on the phone together getting to know each other. Patroclus laughing when Achilles told him he liked sports.

"I thought you might," He had said.

Patroclus was more interested in how the body worked than actually moving it. He told Achilles about his desire to be a doctor. The two of them spent hours after that trying to name all the body parts they could think of. Achilles just so he could hear Patroclus' voice some more. Patroclus because Achilles thought he just wanted to show off a bit.

But he didn't want to just hear Patroclus anymore. He wanted to see him again. See if those eyes were as big as he remembered. See if that hair was as fluffy as he thought it was. So when Odysseus proposed they sneak out again he was all for it.

That evening he asked Patroclus if he wanted to meet him.

"We can go to the mall. Or for a run. Anywhere you want. Just tell me where you are," Achilles proposed.

There was silence on Patroclus' end. Then, "The mall sounds good."

"Great! Be there at eleven," Achilles said, hanging up and sprinting off to tell Odysseus the good news before either of them changed their minds.

Sneaking out was always easy. Even if they had a dragon guard he was only there for the fleece. They made around him with ease and towards the bus stop even easier. The ride there was long but rewarding when he saw Patroclus standing where they had arranged to meet.

He was just as cute as last time. Some kind of band t-shirt on and his hair sticking up behind his ears like Achilles remembered.

Odysseus said goodbye as soon as the bus had stopped, the two of them arranging a time to meet back up to sneak back to camp. Which meant that he was free, for the next five hours, to ogle and admire as much as he liked without anyone hissing in his ear.

"So what do you want to do?" Achilles asked.

Patroclus must have been there a while. Holding up a pair of tickets he said, "I thought we could go for something to eat afterwards."

"Sounds great," Achilles agreed, until he saw what they were going to see.

It was a documentary about American Bootlegging. Interesting subject when not narrated by a man who sounded like Mr D about to go to sleep. Patroclus seemed interested however, so Achilles tried for his sake. About the time speakeasies came on-screen his ADHD had kicked in. His hands were everywhere, he couldn't get comfortable. His legs had been on and off the chair in front of him so many times he was annoying himself.

He was playing with the straw in his drink again when his hand was grabbed and put between them. Suddenly the movie didn't seem so bad.

Patroclus' hand was a pleasant weight in his. It didn't squeeze too tightly or grasp too loosely, just made itself known. Achilles tried to look at it. The movie theatre was too dark to see much. Every so often the film would light up Patroclus' skin a dull grey. Every time it did Achilles would grin. It was proof that Patroclus really was holding his hand.

Of course that didn't stop his feet from moving. The whole situation made them jitter more.

He was thanking every God and Goddess he could name when the credits rolled. Not letting Patroclus go he dragged him out and into the fresh air of the mall.

"That was good," Patroclus said.

Achilles couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Then again, he had picked the movie. He probably did think that was good.

"Let's get something to eat," Achilles proposed, trying to avoid letting his own views about the documentary be questioned.

Something to eat turned out to be the nearest fast food place they could find. About half way into his burger Achilles noticed the little grin on Patroclus' face as he watched him.

"What?" He wiped his face just in case there was something there.

"Nothing," Patroclus said, looking back down at his food. "It's just you really like burgers."

"Huh?" Achilles knew what he meant, halfway through another bite he heard himself. Moaning like he had just found the greatest thing in the world. Patroclus was grinning again, trying not to make his amusement known. Achilles chuckled himself, "Alright, I hear it. We just don't get much junk food at camp."

Patroclus 'ah-ed.' "I was wondering why I'd never seen you at school. So which camp?"

Achilles shrugged, "Just a camp."

Achilles liked Patroclus more when he didn't press. Instead he turned the conversation to Achilles' dad. He'd told Patroclus about him the other day.

"He's doing well. Missing me- I think," Achilles said, he couldn't decipher his father's last letter. "But he's got the other boys to keep him occupied so I don't think it's that bad."

His father had decided that one boy wasn't enough when Achilles was dropped on his doorstep. A runaway himself he often fostered boys. Currently there were six boys living in his house with him. Seven if the other boy his father was interviewing decided he liked him.

"That's good," Patroclus agreed. "What about your mother?"

"She's well," Achilles said, not knowing how else to put it. Last time he had seen her she had warned him against making friends with Odysseus. That was four months ago. She always was good at the silent treatment. Still, Achilles thought, it was better having a mother who saw him than one who pretended he didn't exist like Odysseus'. "And yours?"

Patroclus nodded. Achilles had noted he didn't talk about his parents much. His mother, sometimes. If only to say she had done this or that during the day. His father however, was never mentioned. Achilles wanted to bring it up, but he didn't want to press his luck. They hadn't known each other that long after all. So he kept quiet about it and started on about his lyre instead.

"I have this one song," Achilles gushed, "I've been playing it a lot lately. If you want, I can play if for you tonight, over the phone?" He really wanted to. The song, no matter how hard he tried, kept playing itself whenever he thought about Patroclus. About the third time this had happened he had given up trying to play something original and continued with that tune. For all he knew Chiron was the only one who knew the song.

"Okay," Patroclus agreed. "This is on your lyre right?"

Achilles nodded, explaining, for the third time he thought, about what it looked like. He really was proud of it. As soon as he heard the Apollo cabin sometimes made their own instruments he had asked them to teach him. His lyre had been born after four months of constant attention. A lovely dark brown with gold lined along the top. He had managed to carve a little story on it too. Specifically the shooting of the original Achilles. If anything, he had thought at the time, they would know it was his.

They were walking through the mall, window shopping for lack of anything better to do. Achilles didn't mind. Any time spent with Patroclus was good.

"So I looked you up when I got home," Patroclus said.

"You did?" He didn't think there was anything on the internet about him. Nothing interesting anyway.

Patroclus cleared the air when he said, "The hero. I've never really done classics before. But I thought I remembered something about Achilles. It turns out he's really interesting."

"Yeah, he's okay," Achilles grinned. Patroclus had looked up something for him.

"So... Patroclus," he dithered around.

Achilles laughed, "Fate right?"

There was a blush rising on Patroclus' cheeks. "Yes. I suppose." He cleared his throat, "So Patroclus was Achilles... friend?"

"Lover," Achilles sang, enjoying his embarrassment.

It worked as Patroclus swallowed, "I'm not reading this situation wrong am I? All these hints you're giving me?"

"Hmm?" Achilles asked, making his face the picture of innocence. Either Patroclus was about to do something amazing or run off angry.

He turned out to go down the amazing path. With another gulp he tipped Achilles jaw up and kissed him. It was amazing. Like two souls joining back into one after a lifetime apart. When they parted he felt much like he had the first time he had left Patroclus. Like everything good was gone.

So he urged Patroclus to "Do that again." which he did.

They spent either hours or minutes just kissing each other. A couple of catcalls were the reason they eventually broke apart. Patroclus pulled back quickly, another blush creeping up his neck. Achilles didn't like the way he hunched in on himself. Nor the way he was standing so far away from Achilles it looked like they weren't here together.

It only happened for a few minutes. After that, Patroclus seemed to come back to himself. His eyes going back to their soft brown and taking his hand.

"We should get some sweets," Patroclus proposed. "Make sneaking out that much more better for you."

Achilles laughed, if Patroclus was going to put what happened behind them then so was he. He could work on getting him more open in the future.

They held hands all the way through the pick and mix. Patroclus laughed every time Achilles narrated the death of his gummy worms, prompting more dramatic gummy deaths as a result.

They were rounding the corner to find something fun to do when Achilles saw it. Well, smelled it. A cross between rotting meat and a forest. Monster.

He found who it was. The woman was watching him with an unnerving intensity. She was old, with a hooked nose and robes that looked like wings.

He needed to get away. He needed to get Patroclus to safety.

Hand on his spear he towed Patroclus out. Maybe if he got them to open ground not many people would get hurt.

The woman was hot on their tail. For someone so old she sure could move fast. As she did Achilles tried to make out anything else that might give away what she was. Ordinarily they tried to blend in with modern day things. Sure, if Achilles tried, he could look through the mist, but there wasn't time. Not with Patroclus.

"What's going on?" Patroclus asked, concern in his voice. Weirdly enough he didn't try and pull out of Achilles' hold.

"We need to leave," Achilles just said.

"Any reason why?"

He hurried them out faster.

They reached outside just before the woman could cut them off. He thanked his immortal blood for that feat. But the woman was still close behind them. As soon as they stopped, she started circling them.

Achilles turned to Patroclus, "How are you getting home? Bus?"

"Yes," He said, still looking confused.

"Good," Achilles pushed him to the nearest bus stop.

Patroclus firmly planted his feet, stopping them in their tracks. "What's going on?" Awareness came over him, "Has someone told on you?"

"Yes."

Achilles whipped around. It wasn't him that had spoken but Odysseus. Somehow, his friend had tracked them down and was staring at the old woman hunting them.

Acknowledging Patroclus with a little nod he continued, "We need to get going. So if you can say goodbye..."

Patroclus nodded, saying, "You should have just said." What followed was another brilliant kiss. "I'll put you on loudspeaker tonight."

Achilles was confused, still reeling from Patroclus' lips before he remembered he was playing his lyre tonight. He waved Patroclus off. Watching as he rounded the corner and took everything good with him.

Out of sight and Achilles whipped out his gold headband. A short, practised flick and his spear was seating comfortably in his hand.

The woman, seeing the thing, hissed. Her face transformed over her gaping mouth. The nose elongating into a beak, the only birdlike thing on the creature's face. The face of the woman was still there as the rest of her contorted forwards. Her cardigan turning to wings and feet to claws that scratched the ground she was standing.

They only had the warning of a screech before the thing hurled itself at them.

They went into practised action immediately. Odysseus went low, crouching along as his sword jabbed up. He got a few good hits in before the monster hit him in the face. Odysseus down Achilles took his chance. Sneaking up behind it, he swiped the legs out from the thing before getting it with one good thrust in its head.

The thing dissolved into dust, blowing on to Odysseus who was gathering himself together.

"We should get going," He said. "Those things hunt in packs. No doubt the others are sniffing us out as we speak."

In agreement, they sprinted a good three blocks away before catching their bus.

Chiron wasn't waiting for them when they got back. Achilles was grateful for that. He was having the best day after all, he didn't need the centaur spoiling it by lecturing him on safety. He was invulnerable, he should be able to do stupid things like this without thinking about safety.

They slipped in for dinner. Odysseus blending perfectly with the rest of his siblings. All of them, he was sure, had cover stories sorted for him.

He heard some of them said afterwards. Apparently Odysseus was playing in the forest all day. Setting traps for next Friday's capture the flag. It had enough people wary of him, not asking anything further. They had all learned their lesson, after all, last Friday. Odysseus had managed to eliminate the other team and steal the flag in almost record time.

If only they knew he wasn't planning on playing this week.

"So where were you all day?" Achilles asked at the sing along.

Odysseus tapped his nose. "You just concentrate on your performance."

He didn't bother questioning again.