Author's Note: Another fic written for my 1,000 words or less meme on lj. The prompt for this one was: Rachel/Nico, a thing called fate. I'm happy I got this prompt, because I've been missing writing Rachel/Nico, and this prompt sparked something instantly. This fic goes 109 words over the meme limit but whatever, as Mr. D would say. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Nico di Angelo wasn't wanted anywhere, it appeared.
He really should have known that attempting to stay in the Underworld during Winter was never a good idea, though, so he supposed that was his fault. He'd been through enough Christmas dinners with his father, Persephone, and Demeter to know that that never ended well. The goddess of Spring had just been about to chane him into a dandelion or something of the like when Hades had said, "Just leave boy, now, for your own sake."
He had taken the message.
His immediate reaction had been to go to Percy and Annabeth's, his default couch crashing location, but the instant he appeared in the corner of the dark living room, Annabeth was there, a firm grip on the collar of his shirt, dragging him toward the door.
"-the fuck?" Nico managed as she threw him outside the threshold.
"Sorry di Angelo," Annabeth said, not sounding at all sorry. "Percy and I want to be alone tonight. Alone."
"Is he gone yet?" Percy called from, undoubtedly, the bedroom. Nico and Annabeth rolled their eyes in unison.
"I'm dealing with it." Annabeth called back. "Look," she continued to Nico, "I am sympathetic towards your cause, so I shall tell you this and this only: Sally is always more than happy to put you up for the night." And with that, the door closed in his face.
"Well then," Nico muttered, retreating to the dark end of the hallway and a second later appearing at Sally Blofis's front door. Nico, having mounds of respect for Percy's mother, never simply appeared inside her apartment, although she always made a point of reiterating that he could. Still, he always showed up at the door to her apartment instead, ringing the doorbell politely.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't mind if you just travel into the apartment?" Sally said as she opened the door.
"At least a few more times, of course," Nico said, kissing her on the cheek as always as he entered the apartment. "You know how I can be a bit thick sometimes."
"Just so you know," Sally said, walking down the short hallway towards the living room with him, "I do already have company."
"Oh. Do you want me to-" Nico began.
"No, no, that won't be a problem. It's just Rachel. You know her."
"...Sally, the last time I saw Rachel I was twelve." Nico said, a tad startled. It had indeed been five years since he had seen, or even really thought, about the Oracle, and considering his not-so-impressive people skills, he wasn't exactly thrilled to have to share Sally's adoring attention with her now - or, on an even scarier thought, strike up a conversation with her.
"Hm. Well I'm sure it won't be a problem." She replied nonchalantly, taking his coat from him and hanging it on a hanger despite his silent protests to do it himself.
Nico headed to the kitchen on Sally's demand to eat something, eavesdropping on Sally and Rachel's conversation, of which he could easily make out in the small apartment.
"Who's Nico di Angelo?" Rachel's voice.
"You know Nico. You went on the quest with him back when you and Percy first knew each other."
"..."
"The son of Hades?" Sally prompted.
"There's a son of Hades?" Rachel asked.
And Nico had thought his memory was bad.
Sally sighed. "Don't worry about it dear, he's really quite nice."
"'Kay." Came Rachel's nonchalant reply.
Nico entered the living room with a microwaved carton of chow mein in his hand, to fine the living room dark, the lights dimmed, and a black and white film playing on the modest television. Rachel and Sally sat beside each other on the green couch, and Nico, feeling the odd one out as always, took a seat in the armchair off to the side.
Rachel glanced over at him as he sat, a curious look on her freckled face. She looked him up and down, eyes widening just a fraction, and then turned her attention back to the movie.
Nico turned his attention to the screen as well. It took him only a moment to recognize the film, as well as every actor in it.
"You're watching His Girl Friday?" he blurted.
Rachel turned toward him slowly, her movements almost comical. "You know this movie?"
"Um... yes." Nico glanced over at Sally, finding her expression quite odd. She had a soft smile playing at her lips, blue eyes twinkling with a look that could only mean I know something you don't...
Rachel was staring at Nico, an utter look of disbelief written all over her face. Nico shifted uncomfortably. Rachel continued to stare. Sally's smile broadened. Finally, Rachel spoke.
"Who are you again?"
...
"But yeah, if I'd have to pick my favorite female opposite of Cary Grant it would be Irene Dunne. Katherine Hepburn's great, but he and Irene made more films together anyway and - wait." Nico paused, looking straight at Rachel from his spot next to her on the couch, where he had moved about thirty minutes in to their conversation. "What were we talking about?"
"Well," Rachel said, crossing her legs beneath herself, "I believe we began in on how it's really a shame that Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant didn't make more films together, and then jumped over to the fact that there are no films made nowadays with the same rapid fire dialog as witnessed in many of the classic movies of Hollywood cinema, such of His Girl Friday. From there we went into Cary Grant's massive and impressive repertoir of work, as well as his accompanying leading lady's. The mention of romantic interests dwelved is into the rumors that he was gay, which were probably false, at least in part, considering his collection of wives. After that we jumped back over to the leading ladies, which was followed by a debate on which of his female co-stars had the most charisma with him on the silver screen. You were just making your case for Irene Dunne over my preference of Katherine Hepburn, which is, by the way, total bullshit."
It was Nico's turn to stare. He couldn't be more grateful in that moment that Sally had left the room when he and Rachel had really gotten on a roll, for he was sure that if he saw her knowing smile he'd blush shamelessly. He couldn't help but in that moment notice how pretty Rachel actually was. And he couldn't help himself from thinking anything other than Holy shit in that moment.
"That," Nico breathed, "is awesome."
Not sure how I feel about this fic. However, I stand by Rachel and Nico's adoration of old films, because Nico was born during the time these films being mentioned were released and Rachel has an appreciation for all art forms. Plus, old films are cool. Like bow ties.
Review!