Running around New York at eleven o' clock at night isn't really a good idea, no matter the circumstances. Running around New York at eleven o' clock at night when you're a lone, sixteen year old girl is especially ill advised.

But did Piper McLean care? No.

"And why should I?" she thought bitterly to herself as she walked down a dimly lit street, "It's not like anyone else does."

She was dragging her sneakers on the ground, kicking and scuffing the worn asphalt. The sounds of the city's night scene were distant and weak, but the occasional horn or shout did reach her position in clarity. Already she had heard three noises like that of a car backfiring. She wasn't so naïve as to think that it actually was three cars backfiring.

The club lights at her back were bright and vivid, burning unnatural hues of greens, oranges, pinks, and purples into the inky black sky. The fluorescents, seemingly proud that they had cast the stars and moon out of the night, were pulsating, unwilling to be ignored by the pesky teenager that walked in the opposite direction.

Piper ignored them nevertheless.

The scowl on her face deepened as the wind picked up, slicing easily through the light jacket she wore. November was cruel to the unprepared in New York City. Crossing her arms to her chest, she continued on her aimless path, no destination in mind, only a troubled mix of resentment and anger.

Turning around the left corner of the street, she absently noted the derogatory graffiti littered on the walls of the run-down buildings. This wasn't a safe place for a pretty girl, for a rich pretty girl. But once again, Piper found herself devoid of concern.

For the fourth time since she'd started wandering around the less glamourous part of the city, her phone buzzed in her jacket. Not pausing in her stride, she pulled the device out just enough to see the caller ID. Piper rolled her eyes at the name and promptly dismissed the call, before stuffing the smartphone back into the pocket that she'd dug it out of.

She wasn't in the mood to talk.

Part of her knew that while she was conveniently away from her problems now, eventually the sun would come up, and she'd have to go home. For now though, she was content in her knowledge that she had a few hours of reprieve.

Blowing an errant strand of mahogany colored hair out of her eyes, she cut through a shadowed alleyway on her right side. The crunch of broken glass under her shoes and the stale stench of aging trash alerted her to the presence of a dumpster before her eyes did. She scrunched up her nose at the odor as she exited the alley.

The frail glow of a streetlight illuminated a small space of area before her. Making out the figures of what she deduced to be a slide and swing-set, she assumed she had stumbled across a small park.

Deciding she had nothing better to do, she shrugged to herself and made course for the swing-set. As she approached it, her feet thudding gently against the grass, she became aware of another figure.

In one of the four swings, was a shadow that was hunched over, staring at the ground and being pushed lightly by the toe of one shoe.

Piper's eyes widened, suddenly the playground seemed less appealing. The concern that she'd so lacked earlier was now becoming very apparent. The person hadn't noticed her yet, or at least, hadn't acknowledged her, so she retained enough of a semblance of calm to turn around and begin to walk away. She didn't count on the loud snap that resounded from the general area of her feet.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes glancing down to see that she had broken a small, plastic shovel, probably belonging to a sandbox, before quickly pivoting to focus her vision on the swing-set.

The figure had indeed heard her indiscretion.

In the amount of time it had taken her eyes to focus, the man – she assumed from his size he was a man – had scrambled out of his seat and onto the mulch of the playground. He was above average height, anywhere between six and six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders contained within a winter jacket. Dark hair concealed his facial features, and made her even more wary of him.

In the seconds before Piper's fight-or-flight instincts could kick in, the man stumbled back a step, both of his hands lifted in the air in front of him.

"Oh, okay, wow. I didn't know anybody else was here. Um…you look scared. I probably did that. I'm sorry. Wow. Oh, who am I kidding?" the man said, rushing out his words in a jumbled, breathless, mess. At his self-imposed question, he put his head in one of his hands, "I need a cigarette."

Piper stared at him incredulously as he fell to the ground. Her surprise at his reaction kept her in place as he retrieved a small, rectangular box from the inside of his dark leather coat. Holding a thin cigarette in place with his teeth, he pulled a lighter from the cigarette box and carefully lit up. There was a small intake of breath before his body shuddered and he puffed out a cloud of wispy smoke.

He sighed in relief, resting his arms on his two bent knees.

After a moment he looked up to her, seeming much more at ease now. He took a long drag before flicking off an ash, "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Do you want one?"

She shook her head, still in shock at his behavior, "Um….no. I don't smoke." Her tone was wary, dripping of trepidation. She had no idea how to handle this predicament.

He nodded, idly pushing back his hair to partially reveal his face, "I'm Percy, by the way."

She continued to stare mutely at him.

The man – Percy – again looked to her, raising an eyebrow at her silence.

"This is usually where you say what your name is."

She flinched, his remark startling her out of her gaze, "Piper. My name is Piper."

"Nice to meet you, Piper," Percy said, taking another breath of the cigarette smoke. After no reply, he muttered dryly, "tough crowd."

Normally, Piper was quite adept at social situations, but the sheer ridiculousness of this particular situation had her tongue tied.

Never had she ever planned on having an impromptu conversation with Percy Jackson – as she now confirmed he was – her high school's resident outcast and mute. Now this entire ordeal made even less sense. Percy Jackson was a senior who was only notable because of his hulking figure and lack of spoken word. Yet here he was, probably thinking she was socially impaired. She was still attempting to adjust to the bizarreness of it all.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, you know," Percy spoke, breaking her train of thought, "So you can breathe, now."

"What?"

"You're turning blue." He stated matter-of-factly, putting out his cigarette on the bottom of his hi-tops. After its miniscule heat was extinguished, he stuffed the dead butt in his pocket.

"Oh." Piper muttered, turning her head down and breaking the stare she'd held since they'd began this very one-sided conversation.

There was a moment of silence, tarnished only by the far sound of a car alarm going off.

"I like blue. It's my favorite color, actually. Although, I don't think blue on people is healthy; well, except for Asari. I think it's okay if they're blue. But they aren't really human so I guess it doesn't count."

"Why are you here?" the words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Perhaps she was socially impaired. But her eloquence was tested by her curiosity. The only thing powerful enough to keep her here, at a park in New York at eleven o' clock at night, with practically a stranger, was her curiosity. The powerful doubt in the recesses of her mind, however, was screaming reminders that curiosity killed the cat.

Percy shrugged at her question before humming thoughtfully, "I don't know yet. Maybe I'm supposed to impact the world somehow. Maybe I'll affect someone else who'll impact the world… Eh, it's all relative. I'll figure it out eventually."

"No, no," Piper shook her head, letting a semblance of real emotion – though she wasn't sure which one – slip into her voice, "Not why are you on Earth. Why are you at this playground at eleven o' clock at night, talking to me?"

"Well, I was thinking, until I was ambushed by a chameleon."

"A chameleon?"

"Yes. See, this chameleon began a tannish-bronze color, then shifted to blue. Now, she's steadily turning pink. I'm wondering, if I piss her off, will she turn green?"

"Um…okay?"

At her response he burst into laughter, an airy sound that echoed long after he'd stopped. As he leaned forward, she saw the greens of his irises sparkle playfully.

"Truthfully, I think your answer to that question would be more interesting. It's not usual to see someone like you walking around this part of town."

"Look," Piper began, "It's complicated and I don't really know you. I mean, you could totally be planning to rob and kill me."

Percy snorted at the words 'rob' and 'kill', "Hey, for all I know you could be planning on robbing and killing me. Oh don't give me that look, just because I'm a guy and you're a girl doesn't mean it couldn't happen."

"Besides, you know that my name is Percy, I smoke, and my favorite color is blue. Oh, and that I'm eighteen."

"I didn't know you were eighteen."

"You do now. My point is, that's more than most people know about me."

"Still doesn't change the fact that it's complicated. And that you don't know me, either."

He flashed a crooked grin and patted a spot on the mulch beside him, "Then help me understand."

"Why do you care, anyway?" Piper asked irritably, crossing her arms across her chest.

He brushed off her rudeness with a shrug, "I don't know. I just do, I guess."

"Well, you shouldn't. I don't care."

He gave her a look, "You don't care?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Aren't you full of questions? Nobody else does, so I don't see why I should."

"That's a pretty pessimistic view."

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to."

"What is it with you?!" Piper huffed, throwing her hands in the air, "You're supposed to be an antisocial mute! And now you're asking me all of these questions that I don't want to answer!"

Percy arched an eyebrow at her outburst, still sitting so lax on the ground, staring up at her stiff form with his infuriatingly bright green eyes, "I can talk fine, as you can hear. I just don't. Not being able to speak and not speaking are different things."

"And as for the questions, you look like you've got a lot on your mind. My mother would be very disappointed in me if I let a young lady walk around here without at least trying to help her out," he smirked, "She raised me to be chivalrous, you know."

"This is so weird…" Piper thought, blinking rapidly as if that would magically restore order to her now very senseless world.

"If life isn't weird, it isn't fun."

Had she said that aloud? Yup. She most certainly had.

As she looked at him sitting beneath her, patiently waiting her response, an innocently curious expression on his face, she felt a wave of calmness wash over her. His stature was intimidating, and she was sure that, if he wanted to, he could overpower her in a second, but what offset that fear was that he was so…quirky. And odd. Even though she knew he could harm something, she doubted that he would.

No monster could have eyes that pretty, right?

Piper took a hesitant step forward, and then another, until she was hardly a foot away from him. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the ground, sitting criss-cross. The rough edges of the aged mulch prodded her softly, but she didn't mind.

Face to face with Percy Jackson, she was struck with how human he looked. Like a perfectly normal person, with absolutely no murdering hobbies to speak of. He was handsome, sure, almost startlingly so, with strong features that were similar to that of a Greek statue. It was a different kind of handsome than her boyfriend's, an old-timey spin versus Jason's more modern good looks, but no less attractive.

This close to him, she was able to catch his scent, a strange combination of a clean sea-breeze and light cigarette smoke.

A few years ago, when Piper was maybe thirteen, her dad landed the part of a character that smoked. Even after the filming was done, he'd still pull out a cigarette every once in a while. She hated it. The smoke itself gave her a headache, and the lingering smell of it was so heavy, and thick, and deplorable. After a few months, she convinced her dad to quit, but her hatred of burning tobacco never ceased.

However, she found that Percy's scent wasn't at all the nearly nauseating odor that her dad's was when he still 'lit up.' The teen's smoke was airy, and gave Piper a strange…comforting feeling, almost like being wrapped in a gruff, but still gentle blanket.

Odd.

The teenage girl looked at him and smirked, "I still don't feel like I know you well enough to divulge my secrets, Percy."

Clapping his hands together, he gave a crooked grin, "Shoot."

"So you're a smoker."

"Yup."

"When'd you start?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, "I want to say I was sixteen. I wish I hadn't though, it's been a bitch to try and quit."

"You're trying to quit?"

"Mmhmm. Before today, I'd been a week strong without a cig. This is my last pack."

"Ah. So do you have angry nicotine withdrawals or sad ones?" Tristan McLean had had angry withdrawals. Usually, he didn't take it out on her, but sometimes, he had. He'd immediately apologized, but it was just another reason for her to hate those vile cancer sticks.

"More like jumpy ones. That's why I freaked out when you got here."

The brunette nodded her head, "And why were you trying to quit?"

Percy smiled sheepishly at her, "My mom can't stand it. She doesn't get angry with me about it, just disappointed. I think that's worse."

Piper muttered her agreement to his statement, taking a moment to study his face – his eyes had grown softer at the mention of his mom; there was a sort of faraway look in them that intrigued her.

"So…why don't you talk? At school, I mean. Is there any particular reason?"

He shrugged, "Not really. I just don't feel like talking to a bunch of self-righteous, holier-than-thou assholes. They aren't real people to me, just…different looking clones of each other. They'd hear me, but they wouldn't listen. So why bother, you know?"

She let the statement fall to the ground, allowing a short silence to fall over them.

Well, as silent as the City That Never Sleeps can get. In the distance there was a vague thrumming of the beat of a popular song that Piper couldn't quite name.

"So…is that it? Do I get the privilege of listening to your problems, Piper? Am I to become your confident after that rigorous application process?" Percy asked her, changing his positon to mirror her cross-legged one.

"It's complicated, and I don't even know how to make sense of it all, but if you really want to know-"

"I do."

She smirked, "Okay, then. I'll tell you."

And she did.