PJO Fanfiction

Post TLO, so SPOILERS.

Rating: T, more the K plus side then the M side though, and strictly no M contents.

S&G: Probably ridiculously over punctuated and not edited well (didn't contact a beta) but it should be readable.

Genre: General, really, leaning towards humour.

Percy POV

I was sitting in Rachel's family's lounge, or at least the one she was allowed to take guests to. I didn't have much guilt about it now because a) Rachel was an oracle who couldn't date and b) Annabeth didn't have a problem with it anymore. We were sprawled out on different sofas, chatting, while a maid stood rather uncomfortably in the corner as we switched between English and Ancient Greek. I was pretty sure it was more off her attire then the conversation the made the maid cringe, because we weren't talking about anything other then the cheesy Disney movie Hercules, and she was wearing shoes that looked more like death contraptions the any other I'd seen, and believe me, I'd seen a few weird pairs of shoes. Especially when the Aphrodite cabin put on a parade.

It was the first holidays since the final battle, and Rachel was back from the Clarion Ladies Academy. She had been thoroughly miserable there, and had brought home more homework for the holidays then I'd ever had in my life.

One of the doors in the elaborately furnished lounge opened, and a young woman, perhaps a couple of years older then me, poked her head through the door. 'Rachel, I suggest you turn the television off. Your father's coming.'

After the maid had disappeared we both sat up straight on our respective sofas while the first maid who had been standing in the corner wobbled precariously towards the remote control on her seven inch heels. Neither Rachel nor I had been paying much attention to the T.V; it was more of a background noise then entertainment, but although Mr Dare had purchased several flat screen fifty inch televisions and dotted them around the house, he hated them actually being used.

We heard footsteps along the hall, and Rachel smiled in an I am so sorry way. 'Sorry,' she whispered. 'You don't deserve to be dragged into this.'

'It's okay,' I whispered back. 'Besides, your father's nothing compared to mine.'

'Amazingly, your right. I didn't actually think that was possible until I met your family.'

'You don't know half of them.'

She was about to reply, but the footsteps stopped, and the door creaked open like in a cheesy horror film. Rachel's dad walked in, and crinkled his nose up. 'What is that awful smell?'

The maid tottered forwards slightly. 'Sir,' she said in a rather small voice, 'Sir, I do believe that scent is the flowers.' I sniffed; they didn't smell terrible to me. To me terrible was the smell of a gym class changing room after sixth period P.E. The flowers that sat in an excessively ornate vase on the coffee table smelled like paradise in comparison.

'You know full well I'm allergic to orchids!' Mr Dare bellowed. 'How dare you?'

'How dare you?' I snickered under my breath, 'Dare, dare, geddit?'

Rachel shot me a warning glance, but luckily no one else seemed to notice my comment or the glare she had shot me. Mr Dare was still arguing with the maid, and she was protesting weakly that she didn't arrange the flowers for this room. 'Sir, the florist arranges the flowers, and Millicent, maid four, puts them in the rooms. I have nothing to do with it, Sir, and with all due respects, sir, there isn't anything I can do, sir.'

'For the sake of… listen, gal, if you can't fix this in ten minutes, you're fired, now I want you to call up this Millicent or whoever the hell this florist is, and get her to change the bloody flowers!' he spluttered.

'What to?' the maid squeaked.

'Anything! I don't bloody know! Red roses, for all I care! Just not bloomin orchids.'

'Closed orchids? Post bloom orchids?'

The glare Mr Dare gave the maid was one of such intensity that she shut up at once. She cowered for a moment before realising he was waiting for her to get on with her task. 'Yes sir,' she mumbled. 'Red roses, sir, right away.' Then she grabbed the orchids out of the vase and scurried away. At least, she would have, except that she tripped over her shoes and did a face plant.

'For God's sake, child, learn to walk in those shoes or wear something else!' he yelled.

'You mean these shoes aren't compulsory?' the maid whispered.

'No!' Mr Dare yelled.

'Millie said they were, oh, I hate her.' The maid said, but with a look of triumph on her face. 'I don't have to wear them?'

'Oh, just get out of my sight.' Mr Dare muttered. 'And don't let the orchids drip any more on the carpet- oh, Christ.'

Rachel was biting her lip to hide her smile, and as Mr Dare took his seat, unfortunately next to me on my sofa, he frowned at her, 'Honestly, girl, I thought a term at a Ladies Academy would have taught you not to bite your lip.'

'Yes, father,' she said. I cracked a smile at that, I'll admit, because to see a mortal cower before their mortal father much the same was I'd cowered before my immortal was amusing. What was the worst her father could do and go unpunished for? Ground her till she was eighteen? Send her to her room? Outcast her to Clarion Ladies Academy over the holidays as well as the school term? Yeah, and my father could kill me, literally lock me away and leave me to rot, or take away all my powers and summon a couple of monsters to finish me off. And yet, we both cowered before our fathers in the same way.

Enough of my drabble. Mr Dare was still scolding his daughter about how mere the improvements (or as I thought of them, disimprovements) were after a term at Clarion's, and the maid hadn't returned. With a final disapproving sniff at his daughter, Mr Dare turned to me. 'And how might your education be going, young man.' He said.

'Oh, good thanks,' I said casually, trying not to laugh at the horrified look on his face. When I thought he'd done enough turning purple, I added, 'Sir.'

Mr Dare glared at me for a moment, before recovering. 'Good? How good is good? A plus grades? Not, that it's hard, public school. My Rachel got all A's at Goode.'

'Er, no.' I said. 'Actually, I've got three A's. Classical studies, Ocean Studies and German class.' Mainly because the German teacher had turned up once, gone on maternity leave, and the school hadn't realised to replace her.

'Maths? English? Science? Music?'

'B minus, C, C plus, D minus, respectively.'

Mr Dare's eyes bugged out at the D, but I wasn't fussed about it. I'd leave it to the Apollo kids to be good at music, although Apollo himself I wasn't so sure about. He was a pretty terrible God of Poetry, and the idea of him in a seventies Elvis suit terrified me out of my wits.

'You got a D?' Mr Dare said in a very tight, very controlled voice, while giving me a look that practically screamed Why the *$% did I let this person into my house.

I smiled sheepishly. 'Well, you see, Mr Dare, neither of my parents cared very much. My mother wouldn't care if I got all D's as long as I wasn't expelled, my stepfather didn't read my report card, and I haven't actually seen my father since the report came home.'

'I need the loo-' Rachel began, but stopped at the look on her father's face. 'Excuse me, but I am currently requiring a trip to the lavatory.'

Mr Dare gave a tight lipped, fake, smile and nodded at his daughter. 'Off you go, Rachel.'

Mr Dare turned to me, slight curiosity in his eyes. 'So, young man, your mother and father live separately?'

'Yes,' I said, surprised at his question. I had thought that was fairly obvious, and I was sure I'd told him before. 'I have a stepfather.' I added.

'So who's your real father?' he asked, and probably not because he expected my father to be anyone important. I honestly wasn't sure what to say. Did I say something like John Smith? Or just say "Poseidon" and see what he did. Then a faint memory whispered at the back of my mind: 'When dealing with mortal affairs (did he mean that literally?) I normally go by the name Mr. P. O. Seidon; no one pieces it together.

'Mr Seidon.' I said, and he nodded for a moment, before freezing.

'Mr. P. O. Seidon?' he asked.

'Yeah, why?' I said vaguely, before a horrifying thought struck me. I voiced it. 'Do you know him?'

'No, of course not.' He said, shocked, 'I'm not that important. But, Mr. P. O. Seidon, owner of the largest fishing and boating incorporation in the world?'

'Yeah, I guess so.' I replied. Was that what my father did in the mortal world? 'Is that important to you, Mr Dare?'

'Yes,' he breathed. 'United –a land corporation and a sea corporation, we could become the richest me in the world.'

'United?' I said, confused. He gave me a cunning, assessing look. I managed to choke out, 'What? What do you mean?'

He smiled, which looked sinister to me. 'By the way, Perseus, do you have any uncles or aunts? Other then your father's wife, of course.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'Two uncles, and their wives. I'm not sure if the wives count as my aunts.'

'Doesn't matter.' Mr Dare said. 'What do your uncles do?'

'One pretty much runs the sky,' I said, truthfully, 'And the younger one mining, mining and undertaking, actually. Big on the underground and plots and bodies and such.'

Mr Dare's evil smile grew wider, if possible, and he mumbled: 'Perfect. Future generations… and my family will soon own land, earth, sea, sky.' He looked like he was about to start cackling any minute.

'Erm, Mr Dare…?'

'Yes?'

'I still don't get what you mean by unite.'

'It doesn't matter.' He said, before continuing to give me a calculating look. Then, for the first time ever he used my real name (seriously, he was worse then Mr D, Rachel's dad always called me 'young man'). 'Perseus, aren't you about Rachel's age.'

'Yeah-' I began, before it all clicked. My eyes widened. 'Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I think you've got the wrong idea.'

'What?' he said.

'Er, I…'

'What? Couldn't possibly marry my daughter?'

'Yeah, pretty much.' I said, standing up and backing away.

'Why not?' he demanded, glaring.

I desperately racked my brains for an excuse. 'I'm too young?' It came out as a question.

'Nonsense, Perseus, I was married at twenty two, and Mrs Dare and I couldn't be any happier.' Yeah right. I thought, followed by, Oh, Gods, if the gods are watching this, they'll be having a field day. I didn't have anymore excuses, because I have a girlfriend and I don't want to sounded lame, and I was pretty sure certain immortals would be a little cross if I said Your daughter is the oracle and can't date and I don't like her in that way anyway.

The maid slipped back into the room and deposited a bunch of red roses in the VOTT (vase of terrible taste) and crept over to her place against the wall. The ADHD side of me noticed that she was now wearing ballet flats (after an afternoon hostage in the Aphrodite cabin I could name a lot of fashion shoes and accessories- but didn't, it worried Annabeth that her boyfriend knew more about fashion then her).

Mr Dare stood up, 'See, red roses. Love is in the air. Everything has been pointing to wards this, I can't believe I didn't' see it before.'

'Oh, gods, help.' I muttered under my breath.

Mr Dare smiled at me, yet again. 'Since you can't seem to find a good excuse for why you shouldn't marry my daughter, I'll start making arrangements. Can I have your father's number? We'll have to inform him.'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa.' I said, stalling desperately. 'Who says I don't have a good reason?'

'Let's hear it then,' Mr Dare said impatiently. 'What's your amazing reason?'

'You wouldn't gain much out of it as a business deal.' I said.

'What do you mean?' he demanded, stunned.

I paused, eying up the door. 'I'm illegitimate.' I said, and bolted.

Sorry, I couldn't resist this idea when it popped into my head. I know the fic is a fairly long oneshot with a lot of unnecessary dialogue and words, but I just typed whatever came into my head. Anyway, please review.

:)

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