Disclaimer:
I do not own anything about the Percy Jackson & The Olympian book series. Not the plot, not the places, not the characters, etc. They all belong to the wonderful Rick Riordan and I do not in any way, shape, or form intend to pass them off as my own.

Author's Note:
The inspiration? I'm ill and got my best guy friend to do me a favor. Enough said.
If you have any questions and/or comments please leave them in a review. Beneficial criticism, whether it is good or bad, is welcome. If you spot any grammar errors please notify me as well; I'm not the best whenever it comes to proof reading. Thank you for reading! =]
- Kelly

Kleenex, Orange Juice, and Tampons
~** A Nico di Angelo and Rachel Elizabeth Dare Shot**~
As told from Nico's point-of-view…

Tip toe… tip toe…. Retreat.

Tip toe… tip toe…. Dash behind potted plant.

Pause… sneeze three times behind said potted plant?

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to move up from the black couch. Stretching my arm over to the coffee table, I grabbed the remote control and turned down the volume on the television. I craned my head back onto the arm rest, waiting to see if she was doing to say something. Deciding she was going into a pre-senile state of mind, I turned the volume back up.

Cough… cough…. Sigh.

This time I turned off the television, but remained lying down. I craned my neck further back, so I could glare upside down at the plant.

"Rachel, what the Hell are you doing behind the fern?"

"It's not a fern; it's a ficus, smart one."

"Yeah, I don't care what it is."

She sneezed once more and slowly came out the greenery, still in her footed pajamas despite it being four in the evening. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose as red as her hair, which greatly resembled that of a clown. Grasping a teddy bear in one hand, she rubbed her right eye with the other and stared at my upside down face.

"I was trying to scare you."

I smirked, "Fail."

With something resembling a hiccup, she pouted, "Niiiicoooo…. I'm sick."

I stopped craning my neck and turned the TV back on, "Maybe you're just allergic to the fern."

"It is not a fern!"

I began to watch A Haunting and ignored the feeling of her shooting daggers at my skull. Hearing her heave another sigh, she moved around the coffee table. She stared again, a blank expression on her features. Giving my own mumble of discomfort, I sat up so she would have room to sit on the sofa too. I carefully kept my fingers wrapped around the remote control, knowing she would change it to some fashion show.

Cough."Nico?"

"Hmm?"

"What's this about?"

"Ghosts."

"Ohhh." Sneeze.

I tried to pay attention to the woman who claimed she saw her daughter's bed levitate, but I simply couldn't. Normally, Rachel wasn't the person you wanted to watch television with - always asking questions, making comments, rambling random art inspirations. But to have her next to you when she's sick as well? Dear Zeus, it was almost unbearable.

Hiccup sound. "Nico?"

"What?"

"Do ghosts live here?" Cough.

I sighed, "Typically, they're only in the Underworld."

"Oh, that's good - I don't like ghosts," she replied and started to pick invisible lint off of her teddy bear. After yet another sneeze, she spoke up again, "Nico?"

"Rachel?" I responded with an annoyed edge to my voice and glanced at her out of my peripheral vision.

"Do ghosts follow you?"

"No."

She hugged the stuffed animal up to her chest, "Then why are you always so grouchy? I mean, I could understand if you were because ghosts follow you because I don't like ghosts."

"Perhaps at night, I should sic ghosts on you then."

"That would just be rude, Mr. Nico Mc-Grouchy-son."

I balled my hand up at my side, "My turn for a question: Why did I agree to be your roommate?"

With skipping a beat or looking at me, she replied, "Because this is a nice place and if we split the rent, it's reasonable."

It was quiet… for a total of two minutes.

"Nico?" Sneeze.

I didn't even bother with acknowledging her.

"Will you do me a favor?"

I kept my eyes glued to the flashing screen.

"Pretty please?" she added desperation to her voice. "I'm sick." As if to further prove her point, she followed the simple sentence with a clearing of her throat.

I turned my head to her, "If I do it, will you let me be?"

She lightly smiled and bobbed her head.

I raised a dark eyebrow, "Swear on the River Styx?"

She bit her lower lip and thought about it for a moment, "I'll swear to leave you alone until tomorrow? I get lonely."

Running my hand through my hair, I huffed, "Fine."

"I swear on the River Styx," she stated. "Now, please go to the store for me?"

"What do you need Dare?"

"Kleenexes for obvious reasons, cold medicine - the capsule form not the icky cherry liquid stuff, orange juice to help repair my immune system, dried fruit because I have the munchies - "

I raised my hand to silence her, "I can't remember all of that crap. You need to write it down for me." She quickly pulled out a piece of folded notebook paper from the pocket of her pajamas. "You already had a list prepared?

She nodded, "Us Dare's are always prepared. And I saw that I'd be able to sweet talk you into going for me."

I scowled, "You did not sweet talk me Rachel. Never have, never will."

"Mhmm," she had a skeptical look on her face and grabbed the remote control from me.

"You swore you would just shut up - "

It was she who cut me off this time by turning up the volume and having a sneezing attack simultaneously. I shoved on my Doc Martins and snatched my wallet from the kitchen bar. Shutting the door behind me, I heard a weakly called out "thank you."

.NxR

Looking up at the tan colored building, I slumped my shoulders. Wal-Mart - what such fun. Deciding not to waste any more time than necessary at the wretched place, I straightened my shoulders and walked into the door. I didn't bother to grab a shopping cart or a basket; how long could Rachel's list be anyway? With a sigh, I glanced at the paper and tried to decipher her messy scrawl.

1. Kleenex

Okay, that task was simple enough. Walking to the back of the store, I never realized how many different kinds of tissues there were. I grabbed the preferred brand of tissues, the 3 ply with aloe infused, and went back to the list.

2. Cold medicine (capsules)

I rolled my eyes. Couldn't she have listed a brand like she had with the tissues? This just made the painful experience more pointlessly complicated. I had contemplated on lying and telling her they only had the icky cherry liquid stuff so she would suffer. But I'm not that cruel. Instead, I picked up one package of Tylenol Cold and Flu.

3. Orange Juice

I now openly scowled at the list and gripped it tightly, earning myself a few looks of "I-hate-today's-weird-youth" from an elderly woman scanning the vitamins. I quite literally stomped to the grocery section of the store, granting more frowns from grannies. Rachel's requests were beginning to become vaguer. Did she want normal pulp, no pulp, or extra pulp? Tropicana, Florida's Natural, Minute Maid? I just chose a random, cheap carton.

4. Dried Fruit

My best bet with this one was a packet of mixed dried fruit. Bananas and berries or kiwis and apricots? I just bought one of each so there would be a less chance of her nagging at me for getting the wrong items. I looked back down at the list. One more item left and it made my eyes wide.

5. Tampons

What. The. Hell? She couldn't make me buy that. She wouldn't make me buy that. She… doesn't necessarily even need that if she's going to be a virgin forever. I mean really, if Rachel's not gonna get pregnant, why must she menstruate? A small voice in the back of my mind answered: "To bitch at you more than usual once a month and have an excuse." Right. Swallowing my pride and almost setting my cheeks on fire from embarrassment, I bravely went were no man had gone before - the feminine hygiene aisle.

And I thought I had too many choices on what to purchase before. So many colors - blue boxes, pink boxes, black ones, white ones.

Why were there so many brands?

Why were there so many sizes? Did she need lite or super plus?

Does a tampon really need to be scented?

How do you insert non-applicator tampons… or do I even want to know?... No.

Who the Hell had the bright idea of cardboard tampons? I don't have a vagina but that just sounds painful. Wait - I just talked about me having a vagina.

Dear gods.

I also thought I had gotten too many disapproving stares before. Wrong. When a male goes into the feminine section of a store, I'm pretty sure most females make the assumptions that we're perverts or have bizarre fetishes. Neither of those things applies to me, but that didn't matter to the women stocking up on supplies. One woman even went as far to shield her four-year-old girl's eyes from seeing me there.

I felt the need to defend myself, "I'm buying them for a friend."

She looked me up and down, "Mhmm."

"A friend who happens to be a girl, which is why she needs them…. She's a girl."

"Right."

"She's sick. Feel like a prick now, huh lady?"

The girl asked, "Mommy, what's a prick?"

She gasped and glowered at me, pushing her cart away quickly and ignoring the questions from her daughter about the new slang word.

I sighed and waited until the aisle had cleared.

.NxR

Rachel was on the sofa where I left her. She was all bundled up in my (stolen) skull blanket, still squeezing her teddy bear around its neck with the crook of her arm. Her green orbs were fixed in concentration as she scribbled away in her notepad like everything was all happy and normal. I glared at her and dropped the bags at my feet. She paid me no mind.

"Freaking tampons, Rachel?"

She dropped the blue colored pencil onto the couch and picked up a yellow one, glancing at me in the process. "Hmm?"

My eye twitched, "Hmm? Hmm! That's all you have to say? Do you know what kind of shit I had to go through at Wal-Mart for you?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh please, Nico."

"I got stares Rachel. I got confused. I caused a little girl to ask her mother about pricks!"

"Pricks?"

"Yes, Rachel," I nodded. "Pricks."

She frowned, "Nico, stop saying pricks. It isn't a nice word."

I unlaced my shoes, "You owe me big time Dare."

"They're tampons. Start acting your age, which is like what? Seventy-five?"

My mouth opened agape at her, "Me? Start acting my age? You're the one who tried to scare me by hiding behind a fern. You're the teenager in footy pajamas with a teddy bear and colored pencils!"

She gave me a pained look, "I'm sick."

Yep. It's official.

I hate Rachel Elizabeth Dare - red hair, sniffles, and all.