A/N: The whole PJO fandom is going mad and shipping objects with people (partly my fault), so here's my contribution to this madness.
This is for Paige and Sam.
Song: 'Numa Numa' (an insane song for an insane fanfic).
Frank
Frank sat alone in his room aboard the Argo II, turning the little handcuffs over and over in his hands. Ever since the embarrassing moment on the deck where he'd gotten his fingers caught in the handcuffs and had turned into an iguana to escape them, he'd been sort of… well… attracted to the handcuffs.
It was extremely weird and very creepy, but he really couldn't help his hopeless infatuation with the object.
He slapped himself on the cheek. What was he thinking? The handcuffs were an object, an object. They did not feel. They did not return his love.
It was the Jason/Brick incident all over again.
"I love you, Frank," the handcuffs said, and the son of Mars jumped so high into the air Zeus would be offended. He dropped the handcuffs onto the floor with a squeak.
"Ow!" the handcuffs protested, sounding quite annoyed.
"You can talk!" Frank said loudly, no doubt alerting all the people on the corridor.
"Oh, so the brick is allowed to talk but the handcuffs can't?" the handcuffs snapped.
"The brick can talk?!"
"What, did you think Jason was going mad?"
"Kind of. He was snogging an inanimate object."
"You're talking to an inanimate object. You could be classed as freaking nuts."
"Maybe I have gone nuts."
"Ten seconds ago, you were in love with me, now you're leaving me on the floor to collect dust."
"Sorry."
Frank picked up the cuffs and brushed some lint off of the surface. He stared at them from arm's length. There was no face on them, or a mouth or anything. Nothing that enabled the cuffs to speak. Frank started to wonder if Leo had spiked his lunch with magic mushrooms. He wouldn't put it past the little shit to do something like that. Frank could guarantee that there was a camera somewhere in the room and Leo was giggling away as he watched Frank have a conversation with a pair of not-so Chinese handcuffs.
"Rude," the handcuffs huffed angrily.
"Can you… Can you hear my thoughts?"
"Look out Sherlock; we've got a new detective in town."
"You're really rude."
"Says the one who dropped me on the floor! I wouldn't drop you on the floor!"
"You don't have arms."
"Oh, you just had to bring that up!"
"You're worse than Terminus."
"I don't know who that is." The handcuffs sighed. "Look, buddy, what do I have to do to get you to kiss me?"
Frank glanced around his room. No one else in the room. He stuck his head out of the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no one in the corridor either. Then, he pressed his lips to the smooth surface of the handcuffs. He was sure the damn things moaned when he did.
"Frank, Annabeth wants you up-" Hazel broke off as she entered the room, staring wide eyed at Frank and the handcuffs.
"Well, shit," the handcuffs muttered as Frank pulled away, his whole face going bright red.
Frank and Hazel stared at each other in silence for the best part of thirty seconds before Hazel started to back very slowly out of the room.
"I guess this is a bad time to mention I'm with the chicken nugget," she muttered as she creeped away down the corridor.