A/N: This was born one night in a sketchy movie theater from the mocking tones and subtext searching souls of two women who see lesbians everywhere they look. Dedicated to my koala.

Annabeth is the daughter of Athena. This means that she doesn't lose. The dirt presses into her face, forcing it's way into her mouth. She is not going to let these idiot sons of Aries take her down. There might be eight of them but she is gifted with tactical foresight and they are merely brutes who wield strength and bloodlust as if they are comparable weapons. A sword slices through the air and bites into the dirt beside her head. The sound of dark particles being displaced rakes along her senses, just as the taste of dirt and blood fills her with adrenaline.

When she had refused to reward the caveman like advances of Marion, leader of Aries many sons she had not anticipated an all out fight. Perhaps if she had kept her tongue still and not insulted him further, but no matter she would defeat them soon enough. With one heave, she rolls her lithe body to the side, avoiding the Marion's boot, which crashes to the earth where her head had been.

She slides her fist up and into his gut, feeling satisfaction when he grunts and crumples to the ground beside her. With an easy kip up she is on her feet and grinning, one eyebrow raised, at the remaining assemblage of six strapping boys who are more enraged than ever. They run at her and she swings around bringing her boot up to meet one in the face and the momentum of the spin takes her down into a crouch, where she sweeps another's feet from under him.

The clearing was empty when they entered but now a crowd has begun to gather and one face in particular looks on with curiosity. Clarisse cannot count the number of times she has happened upon her half-brothers engaging in some scuffle or another with other inhabitants of the camp or even with each other, but this is new. To see them fighting Annabeth gives her some secret pleasure because aside from her, Annabeth is the only particularly gifted woman warrior here.

What she will not admit is that her pleasure at watching this fight grows from her admiration for how Annabeth moves. The quick and sure grace that she exhibits and the endless expressions of confidence and concentration on her face makes Clarisse's heart quicken. She tells herself that it's just the adrenaline brought on by the sight of a thrilling fight but somewhere in the depths of her mind she knows.

She briefly considers lending a hand but the sight of Clarisse, daughter of Aries, helping Annabeth in a fight against her brothers might raise suspicion but just as she decides this, Marion spits in Annabeth's face and calls her a dyke. That is all it takes for Clarisse to come screaming into the fray, her feet moving faster than seems possible.

She flanks Marion and with one swift blow to the temple he is stunned and falls into their brother Jacob. "Don't ever say that to her again," she hisses. He looks up at her, a hand covering his head, and blinks. She has dazed him and the rest of the brothers back away. Marion may be their natural leader but none of them wishes to anger their sister because despite their superior strength she is the fiercest among them and could whip them all if she had the mind to do it.

As surprised as the brothers are, Annabeth is the most shocked of anyone in attendance. She is frozen, her mouth slightly open in wonder. She and Clarisse have a history of conflicting opinions, especially where battle tactics are concerned but now with this action she is in Clarisse's debt. She hates the idea as it licks at her mind. Owing anyone is bad but this is quite different, humiliating even. She gathers her jacket that was torn off in the fight and one of the knives that fell out of her boots. Her mind moves through every possibility, thinking of how she can avoid or quickly discharge the debt, whose burden seems very heavy.

Her dour thoughts are interrupted by Clarisse's outstretched hand, which holdsher other knife, she is never without at least two weapons. She clears her throat and lets her eyes flick to Clarisse's. "Thanks," she mutters and takes the knife, sliding it into her remaining empty booth sheath.

Clarisse nods and stepped back, her hands winding around to slide into the back pockets of her jeans. Now that the anger had fizzled out of her she was embarrassed about her behavior but she can't stop herself from hanging around to make sure Annabeth is alright. This uncharacteristic behavior is confusing enough to her and she feared what Annabeth, with her quick wits, might decipher from it.

"That was uncalled for." She sniffs and her shoulders shrug. "Marion is a douche sometimes." She doesn't know what else to say but just walking away seemed rude now so she watches Annabeth as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a loose bun. "What happened anyway?"

An explanation was the last thing that Annabeth wants to offer but it didn't look as if Clarisse was going to leave her be anytime soon. "Marion keeps asking me out and I tell him no every time but this time he touched me and I got a little… angry." She stops there, choosing not to tell Clarisse the insults against Aries that she had made to further incur the brothers' wrath. Out of respect for the debt owed, she holds in the words that spring to mind now.

"He doesn't take rejection well," Clarisse says. It is probably the first time that Marion hasn't gotten what he wanted from a girl and it doesn't surprise her that his reaction was so violent. "Like I said, douche." They walk on toward Annabeth's cabin, a neat, bright structure on the edge of the forest.

Silence prevails as Clarisse escorts her but when they stop just outside the door Annabeth can't hold the words in. "Thank you for helping but why the hell did you do it?" She has been wondering since the fight ended and now she needs to know. The anger that inhabited Clarisse's actions was out of proportion with the events. Especially, since their history is less than friendly.

Clarisse's eyes rest on wooden railing, as she considers Annabeth's question. It was one she had been asking herself and she needs the answer just as much as Annabeth does. It was bothering her that she had no logical reason for defending the daughter of Athena against her own kin. Maybe if she turns to the illogical reason that lurks under the surface she might be closer to the truth. That path is paved with fear. Admitting that she felt protective of her rival was dangerous for both of them.

Mostly, for her since if she said it out loud Annabeth would probably laugh in her face. That possible hurt made her turn away and clench her eyes closed. She would deny it. She turns back to meet the shockingly blue eyes and questioning gaze. That is when speech seems impossible.

Annabeth is confused. Clarisse's behavior shines no light on the mystery that hangs between them, becoming more murky with each revolution in her mind. She gulps down air as their eyes meet. She can read the intention and confusion in them, like a crumpled gathering of emotions that Clarisse cannot sort for herself let alone say aloud. It touches something inside her, making her jaw clench, and understanding passes between them.

Clarisse's eyes widen when she feels it. She isn't one to analyze. She leaves that to those more cerebral than herself. Action powers her, not thought, so she leans forward letting her lips fall close to Annabeth's. This has been coming ever since she came to camp. Their fights and her dismissal of Percy as a worthy opponent have been masks for her desire.

The action surprises Annabeth but she doesn't move away. The idea of Clarisse's lips on her's is one that would not occur readily to her but now that it has been brought forth, she finds her pulse racing and her tongue darting out in anticipation. She wants this and she lets that stream from her eyes and into her companion's.

The invitation was clear. Space disappears from between them and their lips touch. Warmth spreads through Clarisse and her body rotates to Annabeth's like a compass needle. She gasps as Annabeth deepens the kiss and winds her hand through her dark hair. It is exquisite and pure, like nothing she had experienced yet.

Perhaps this kiss was what they both hungered for but replaced yearning with fear fed conflict and wilful misunderstanding. Tension stretched between them and the parts of their personalities that clashed fed a different kind of energy. They were now spurred in the direction of lust instead of hate. The kiss lasts no longer than a minute, just long enough to make them addicted to the feeling it produces.

Annabeth pulls back and looks around. They were still outside her cabin but thankfully no one had wandered by. It was a bit secluded so she rarely saw another of her peers unless they had some direct purpose to be there. She gathers the tendrils of desire that slip from her body to reach out for Clarisse and exhales. Drawing back her need is hard but she does it anyway.

Clarisse's eyes are alive with fire. "I think I've wanted to do that for awhile." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I guess this explains why I got so angry when Marion insulted you." She looks up again and locks eyes with Annabeth. "I guess I answered your question though."

A soft smile pervades Annabeth's face. It is an expression that Clarisse has never seen there and she welcomes the sight, especially since she was part of what put it there. It is a long moment before Annabeth answers and it is filled with unspoken agreements and exchanges of silent promises. "I guess you did."

Now, all in one night Annabeth's perspective of Clarisse has changed. With a valiant action and a kiss she has altered the image of an arrogant, annoying, and altogether unpleasant person to a sexy, confident, and chivalrous woman.

Meow

The sound comes from the cabin porch and both of them turn to see it's source, a sleek white cat, slinking toward them. "Shoo, rodent," Clarisse warns. The interruption is unwelcome. This amazing moment last, its perfection remaining intact. Andromeda, Annabeth's cat, looks defiantly up at her and slides her body along Annabeth's legs in greeting.

Annabeth smacks her arm and bends down to scoop the cat up. "Take it back." She gives Clarisse an expectant gaze and arches a perfect eyebrow.

Clarisse scoffs and lets out a laugh. "Never," she says, her defiant face matching Annabeth's imperious features. "But I can't kiss you with that furball in your arms," she says, pointing at Andromeda. She watches emotions flash across Annabeth's face.

"What makes you think I want that?" Annabeth asks. Now, that arrogance that she had such disdain for is peeking out again and she hates herself for liking it, for being a little turned on by it. It cannot be helped though because she knows she is going to give in. The taste of Clarisse is still on her lips and she wants more, so much more.

"You want it." Clarisse leaned in close. "I can see it in your eyes." Her expression turned soft and vulnerability creeps in turning her lips down. "They're beautiful."

Annabeth gently drops the Andromeda and grips Clarisse's arm. "Come on," she says and hurries for the door. She does want Clarisse and now there is nothing left to do but to show her how right she is.

Andromeda shakes her furry head as her human closes the door of the cabin hard. It looks like this is going to be a night spent alone, hunting in the woods, with no warm bed or human to keep her contented. Just as well because she can sense that her human's companion isn't a fan of her kind.

Inside the cabin Annabeth's thoughts center around the growing emotions swirling inside of her and of the pleasure that Clarisse's body is bringing her. It was everything that she was missing, that intangible need that became clear in the light of one kiss and Clarisse for all her hot headed nature finds herself pleasantly burning for another reason. It was a perfectly imperfectly merging of two demigoddesses whose power was impossible to overcome when turned on one another.