(ATTENTION: For anybody wondering why I updated this and it isn't updated, I spotted a few errors that I fixed. New chapters coming soon.)
Rain.
It fell gently on the windowpanes, signaling the start of another dreary day in London. Inspector Jackson looked out in the gloom for a moment and sighed, making his client feel unappreciated.
As he sifted through one legal document or another, he wondered how he got here or why he was doing this. He had gotten into this business for one reason only; to find out what had happened to her.
But she was gone now; now he knew the answer. So what was the use?
He slumped back in the seat, ignoring his client's frown, suddenly lost in thought.
One thought actually; a thought that was haunting him to no end.
Now what?
For the past fifteen years of his life, he'd been hot on the trail of the disappearance. Who was responsible? The Klan? Was she alive? Could she be contacted?
But now he had all the answers. For six months he had been filing danged PI cases and tracking down unfaithful husbands for their gold digging wives, all eager for divorces. Why did he bother? What was the point now?
And now that he knew her fate, what was he to do?
Keep settling stupid divorce cases?
This was no life for him.
"Mr. Jackson! Are you alive?" rasped the irked client.
Percy jumped a little, disturbed, and quickly leafed through the files. Oh boy, another divorcee case.
"So...I see you have a PI case for me, Mr..."
He looked hastily for the name.
"Mr...Di-"
Suddenly he stopped. He looked up, quizzically, from the papers and raised an eyebrow in wonder at the clad figure. Leather Jacket, pierced lip, a Yank no doubt, with shaggy moppy hair and a bad attitude. Couldn't be more than twenty five.
"Mr. Nicodemus DiAngelo?"
He looked up with a sigh.
"That's me. And call me Nico, seriously."
Percy dropped the stack in a pang of disbelief.
"Nico...It's me, Nico. Don't you remember me?"
Nico blinked a few times, trying to comprehend his statement.
"Uh, no. I don't recall ever meeting you before."
An old pill who had to be forty with that much gray hair and was a total ditz. No, Nicodemus had never seen him before.
The only thing interesting about this guy was his eyes. Nico groaned in disgust to himself.
"That sounded so gay," he thought begrudgingly.
But it was true. They were an unnatural green, with all the life taken out of them. He had the look of a once pro football player who was now stuck sitting in retirement without any of his toys or women.
"It's me," Percy said.
Nicodemus snorted.
"Retard," he thought.
Obviously Nico didn't know who he was, except his attorney.
"It's me," was zero help.
Nico hadn't met someone this stupid since...
No way.
He was dead, right?
Nico hastily grabbed a business card and stared at it queerly.
"Percy?"
"Nico!"
Percy tripped over the desk to meet him, but Nico stepped back and he fell. What was this, a lover's reunion?
Still, Nicodemus was overwhelmed.
He hadn't seen his friend in so many years; he thought he was dead.
Percy had spent all these years cramped up alone, in the rain, searching for a lost love. He had missed his friends so much. Nico gave him a shout;
"Where the hell have you been!" he screamed angrily at the figure on the ground with a briefcase on his head.
"Uh...Busy?"
"We thought the Klan had killed you!"
Percy stared at a sheet in front of his nose.
"Mrs. Thalia DiAngelo?"
Nico blinked. He had nearly forgotten why he had even come there that morning.
"Yeah...about that."
Percy raised an eyebrow.
"Slow down; Thalia was a huntress, right? What's with the clothes? What are you even doing in England?"
Nico put his hands up, ignoring Percy's akward state. His legs were stuck halfway up his desk with his head on the floor and a briefcase askew on his skull.
"I think you have more explaining to do than me. And drop that accent, it's driving me insane," said Nico.
Percy managed to right himself, and the brief light that had shone in his eyes dissapeared. His vibrant sea color turned back to that drab darkness that they had been when Nico had first walked in the room.
"Where's Annabeth?" he asked cautiously.
No reply.
The rain poured a little louder, and Nico's voice softened, just loud enough to be heard over the thunder.
"The Klan?"
...
Rain.
It poured softly on the panes of the car's windows, a Jaguar XK8 Inspector Jackson had recently purchased.
Nico leaned against the window solemnly, digesting all he had just heard.
Wow.
Percy looked out into the hazy fog that was London with a pang of remorse.
Again, that nagging question bit at his back; what was he to do now?
He had found Nico. He could go to camp half blood and be a counselor, the oldest one yet.
But he hadn't picked up a sword in years (now a gun and taser were his tools) and besides, there were too many traces of her back at camp half blood.
So he asked that question, and perhaps by some divine interference, it was instantly answered.
"Is that your phone ringing?" Nico asked.
Percy snapped out of his nostalgia and reached for his phone. Nico whistled.
"Wow...The iPhone 7g...That thing is expensive. You really must be reeling in the dough at this rate."
Percy barely nodded in recognition. He didn't keep this job for the money. It was just a side benefit.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Inspector Percy Jackson?" replied a feminine voice.
"Yuh-huh."
"Hey. Sorry to bother you, but my name is Anna Price, I'm an agent with MI5? Do you remember me?"
Percy muttered a no, wondering what she wanted.
"Well, listen, you're the best in our field in Klan cases, and there's been another massacre."
Percy didn't even flinch. He had become so numb to death by now. He was still definitely surprised, however.
"They're back?"
"Yeah. You bet. They're not giving up that easily."
"Where do you want me to go?"
"Here, I'll fax you the address. It's a bank in London where MI6 operates...This is a big one, Inspector. One of the members of parliament was the main victim this time. You're playing with the big boys now, Inspector."
Percy shrugged. Better than PI cases.
He ended the call without a goodbye and rolled it up. The paper thin cellular device slipped in his pocked as Percy started the engine.
Rain.
It poured heavily on the windshield.