DEAD ROSES ON VALENTINE'S DAY:


They didn't have much in common. In fact, they had so many differences they were opposites. Her hair is red and frizzy. His hair is brown and shaggy. Her attitude was normally positive about life. He despises life with a burning passion. She paints at odd hours of the evening. He runs away at peculiar hours of the night. He is the Ghost King. She is the Oracle of Delphi. They could never be close, anyway.

They had everything in common. In fact, they had so many similarities that they could be the same person. They both didn't agree with their father's ways, or held some sort of grudge against them. They both have a one-sided crush on the boy with the sea-green eyes before realizing that Percy Jackson was never theirs before, and could never be theirs in the future. (Because he belongs to a blonde haired girl with piercing grey eyes). They had problems with life and who they were. They didn't trust people. They most certainly didn't trust one another.

"So," Rachel says with uncertainty after Percy had left Nico di Angelo in her cave to socialize, "You're the son of Hades, right?" She knows this already. Partly because she had seen him before and partly because she was the Oracle. Still, Rachel figures that it would be easier to ask that instead of asking him personal questions, because he didn't seem like the type of guy who opens up willingly. Plus, they had never been properly introduced. Proper isn't in Rachel Elizabeth Dare's vocabulary, not after her father's ways, but she still asks.

He scowls in response, but that doesn't faze the red-headed Oracle. She continues painting, only stopping to steal glances at the boy that aren't really stolen. He's a year older than her, but that doesn't really matter when it came to being immortal. That's the one thing she didn't appeal to; immortality. It depresses her to think that she won't grow another day. It's like she's frozen in time. It unsettles the red head, makes the situation damper. Because really, she loves being the Oracle. It's so much better than the life that she previously had. But what happens when her rich, snobby parents finally realize that she hasn't aged a day? She's already lying to them now, telling them that she's staying at this private summer camp for rich kids. She acknowledges that eventually they'll figure out that there is no Camp Shamplain (frankly she's surprised that they haven't already) and interrogate her. She doesn't feel bad about lying to them, nor guilty, because she doesn't feel that they have a right to know. When have they ever been parents to her? The time when she fell off the swings and they were both too busy to kiss her boo-boo? The time when she won the Middle School art competition and they were both too busy to even congratulate her. The time when she disappeared to some strange summer camp and they didn't even care to notice? One day, though, she's going to have to tell them who she really is. And she hopes that day will never come. Not because she isn't proud, but because she feels that they don't deserve the right to know.

"Why are you staring at me?" He demands. "I don't like it when people stare at me."

"I got that much," she continues, dragging her paintbrush along the paper. "And I'm staring at you because you're different. I've always appreciated outcasts." He grumbles something too low for her to hear it. Probably something sarcastic and morbid about her, but Rachel doesn't mind. "Also because I'm waiting for you to socialize with me. You know that's the entire reason why Percy -she notices how his posture tenses when she says his name- dropped you off here. He's worried that you are turning from loner to suicidal."

"Maybe I don't like being social," he retorts. "That doesn't mean I'm going to kill myself-" he stops talking abruptly, obviously growing frustrated with himself. He heaves a deep breath, and then asks her, "What are you painting, anyway?"

She smirks, beckoning for him to come closer. He walks slowly, hesitantly, and only then does she realize that he's much cuter than she'd first perceived. Nico di Angelo wore dark clothes and skull rings, but once she actually was close enough to see past that thick mane of hair and into his dark brown eyes she saw that there was a pain inside similar to hers.

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet," Rachel Elizabeth Dare admits. "It started off being a painting of the ocean, but now it's changing...to something darker."

He nods, almost like he's approving. He then does something that startles her completely. He holds out his hand to her, "I'm Nico di Angelo."

She has to bite back a mischievous smile. Her left hand was still covered in paint. Rachel clasps his hand in hers, smirking. "Rachel Elizabeth Dare."

Nico frowns, retracting his hand away in disgust. He feels something wet on his hand, and glances down to inspect it. His guarded demeanor quickly changes to annoyed anger. "Ugh!" He complains, and for a moment, Rachel almost thinks he sounds like a normal, whiny teenager. "I can't believe you!"

He storms out of the room, a stream of curse words leaving his mouth as Rachel cackles like a banshee. "Aw, come on! Where's your sense of humor?"

Ghost King: zero. Oracle: one.

. . .

Nico rummages through the items in her desk, shuffling through stupid things like pictures of her mortal friends, looking for something to entertain him. Rachel's footsteps approach behind him and the son of Hades can practically see her curiosity. She was so obvious. He doesn't even need to get to know her to learn that every emotion she feels echo throughout her emerald eyes. She has green eyes- just like Percy's. His heart twists painfully at the son of Poseidon. They had won the Giant war, Percy and Annabeth had gotten out of Tartarus. He previously expected that they wouldn't have been as close as they were. But no, apparently traveling the depths of hell together made them even closer. It's not that he despises Annabeth. In fact, the daughter of Athena reminds Nico of Bianca sometimes. He's just really jealous. Really, really envious of whenever Percy grabs her hand or puts his lips on hers. And Nico really hates how Jason Grace would shoot him a look of sympathy every time he caught Nico looking at their displays of affection.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking."

"Through my private things?" She sounds amused. "What have you found so far?"

"A diary that records your life in ninth grade. Pretty boring if you ask me. Though, this entry is funny." He flips through the pages until he finds his favorite story. "Percy's eyes are like little pieces of emeralds- all different colors." He grins, watching her reaction out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't appear to be embarrassed or angry. Just fascinated with him. "Oh, look- you have a list of what you think his eye color looks like. And then you have another page of how Annabeth is super controlling and annoying and obviously likes Percy, but he's too stupid to realize her feelings or even his own."

She shrugs. "I used to have a crush on Percy back then. At least I'm over my misguided crush, unlike someone I know." She stares pointedly at him and Nico crosses his arms.

"I do not like Percy anymore," he says. "I'm over it." Even though he doesn't think that his statement is true, he'll never stop denying it.

The Oracle of Delphi seems unconvinced. "Are you?"

"Yes!" He throws up his hands in frustration. "Yes, I'm over it!"

Rachel smiles gently. "Good." For a moment, he's confused. Why was that such a good thing to her? "Hey, want to do something fun?"

"Why? Why are you trying to be my friend? You didn't care about me before." He doesn't intend for it to sound so self-pitying, but it does.

Rachel's eyes seem swimming with sadness for a moment and Nico frowns at her reaction. But when she blinks, the hollowness is seemingly gone."Because it's Valentine's Day, and I don't think anyone should be alone on this holiday." She pauses, glancing at him, as if figuring out the right words to say. "Even the Ghost King."

. . .

She forces him to watch a chick flick with her. He forces her to learn Italian words in retort. She forces him to play truth or dare with him. He ends up eating an entire bag of marshmallows (grumbling the entire way through it) and then throwing up. The cycle continues for the rest of the day. So sure, they didn't have much in common, but they did have everything in common.

. . .

"My dad's a rich, powerful jackass who thinks ruining the environment is fun."

"My dad likes collecting souls and torturing vulnerable ghosts."

"My family life is very complicated."

"Try having to eat with Demeter."

"Let's just agree that both our families suck and move on with it," Rachel says, exasperated.

And that ended that conversation.

. . .

"How are you even a son of Hades?" Rachel quips as he attempts to sneak from the cave as they're in the middle of Pretty in Pink. "You have the stealth equivalent to one of those stupid giants- I don't care what they're called, Nico- dressed in ten inch high heels."

He gives her a crooked, dark smile. "Percy and Annabeth seem to think otherwise." His smile widens further as he remembers their shrieks, "Nico! Holy Zeus!- fumbles with clothes-
We're kind of in the middle of something here! Use the damn door next time!" Oh, yes, he does enjoy interrupting their face-sucking sessions. He averts his attention back to Rachel and is startled to see her eyes gazing into his deeply and her cheeks igniting.

She drops the popcorn and it clatters to the floor. The connection that had just occurred between them is broken and now the rug is covered in butter and salt.

Nico rolls his black eyes. "Idiot."

. . .

"So, do you have the urge to kiss Percy every time you see him?" Rachel asks as she paints her toenails a hot pink color. Nico splutters for a moment before shielding his emotions off and narrowing his dark, bottomless eyes.

"...Shut up!"

"I don't blame you, di Angelo. He's still hot. Not that I would ever try anything; Annabeth would rip me to shreds. Plus, I'm pretty much over that. Unlike you. Oh, and I don't want to see Percy get disintegrated by Apollo. Although being an Oracle has it perks. Hey! I just got an idea; what if go up to someone I don't like (Octavian; his pick up lines were becoming increasingly annoying) and kiss him-"

"Would you just shut up, already?" Jealousy lingers in his tone of voice. For some reason, Nico doesn't appeal well to the image of the red-headed, eccentric, Oracle kissing someone else other than him.

Wait, what?

"Okay, okay," she sighs in defeat, shaking up another nail polish bottle. She's too distracted to take notice of how his pale cheeks begin to turn red, tinting with pink. Nico struggles to get rid of the blush that's spread to his nose now, but his mind keeps flashing the image of their lips touching. This has never happened before, other than when he's with Percy, the boy who he's had a one-sided crush on since he was eleven.

He's flustered. Flustered. Nervous. Butterflies. This wasn't happening. No, it can't be happening. Nico di Angelo was flustered!

And over Rachel Elizabeth Dare of all people.

"Hey, di Angelo? Can I paint your nails? They can be black." She turns around, scanning the cave, her frizzy red hair resting on one side of her slim neck. "Di Angelo?" Her voice cuts away when she realizes that he's evidently gone. The only evidence of him fleeing is her cave becoming momentarily darker with shadows, and then turning brighter when the darkness dispatches. She tries not to feel disappointed, but the sinking feeling in her chest doesn't go away. So much for spending Valentine's Day with a cute boy (Nico di Angelo is not Percy cute. He's- he's darker in this bad boy and emo kind of way) that she may- probably-possibly actually like. As long as she doesn't act on her feelings, nothing bad can happen. She can spend time with the son of Hades as much as she wants- so long as she doesn't knit her fingers through that dark brown hair, stare into those eyes that sometimes go soft and gentle when she says something completely stupid, pull him close and kiss him. Kissing isn't popping her cherry, but she doubts Apollo would approve of them even holding hands. The last thing she needs to do is start a feud between Apollo and Hades. Maybe it was best that he left.

No. It wasn't.

She caps the nail polish and curls up on the couch.

For a while now, it felt like something was missing. She was an immortal maiden who could recite prophecies. This was the life she had never expected to get, but the life she had always dreamed of.

But after a few years...something was just missing.

And she thinks that the something might've just been a someone.

. . .

Annabeth laughs at Nico's nervous question, but not insultingly. Her grey eyes are sympathetic yet all knowing, while Percy seems to be fumbling around with what words to say.

"I wouldn't have asked Seaweed Brain that, Nico. He's completely obtuse when it comes to women. I remember this one time we were at the supermarket," Percy makes a pleading face, begging her to stop, "and the teenage cashier girl pulled down her shirt to the point where I got a view of her boobs. It was disgusting! And she leant up on the counter, touched Percy's arm and asked, 'Paper or plastic?' No, it was beyond disgusting. And Percy just stood there with a blank look on his face while I was trying hard not to stab this mortal. 'Plastic is fine,' is all Percy says in this bored voice."

Percy groans, protesting, "I still don't think she was flirting with me."

"Because you're terrible at recognizing the signs!" She turns back to the very confused son of Hades. "The only reason we're dating now is because I kissed him. I was the first 'I love you' I was the first kiss; I was the one who asked him out. Hopefully I won't be the first 'will you marry me?'" Percy flushes, but their hands are still intertwined.

"He asked me, not you, Wise Girl. Therefore I get to answer. And anyways, who is the lucky future Mrs. di Angelo, Nico?"

"I never said I was marrying her," he stammers. "Or kissing her. Or asking her out. I just want to get her something special for Valentine's Day."

A look of realization crosses amongst Annabeth's features. First shock, then amusement, then shock again, then dread. He figures out pretty quickly that she must've put two and two together. It was Percy and Annabeth's idea to put them together on Valentine's Day. "Oh. Oh my Gods. No, Nico! You can't!"

Percy stares at his girlfriend, confused. "What?"

Nico shoots Annabeth a meaningful look and she gives the slightest indication of a nod. "Figure it out yourself, Seaweed Brain. And Nico," she pauses, struggling with the right words to say, "It's not that I'm not happy for you. I am. It's about time that you found someone-"

"For the last time, it's not a relationship! I just want to get her a simple present."

"It's forbidden, Nico."

"What's forbidden?" Percy ponders aloud.

"I know, it's not like that, believe me. She annoys me, anyways. She just seemed a little sad yesterday, so I thought-"

"Who is it?" Percy's eyebrows pull together in deep thought.

"I know. Just get her chocolates or something."

"It has to be special," Nico protests. "It can't just be a pack of dumpy chocolates."

"Aw," Percy coos. "Nico, you actually have human emotions."

Remind him again why he had (possibly has) a crush on the son of Poseidon? Nico glares at him, along with Annabeth.

"Not helping, Seaweed Brain. Look, I know this kind of stuff. Girls go crazy over a secret admirer card. Or you can get her flowers. Yeah. Maybe neon flowers. It has to be something creative, though."

A plan is already formulating in his head. "Yeah. Yeah okay. Thanks, Annabeth."

"No problem," she smiles gently at him. "Just be careful. The last thing you want to do is start World War four between your father and you-know-who."

Percy threw his hands up in frustration. "So now Voldemort's involved? I am so confused!"

. . .

Valentine's Day was over. She doesn't expect to see Nico that much anymore, nor does she expect to receive a bouquet of flowers. They're sitting outside of her cave. A variety of blood-red roses that is dead and withered. The scarlet petals are tinged with black, arranged next to each other in a haphazard pattern. The thorns are also withered and roughened stem stood out, jagged and standing wickedly, their points displayed angrily for the world to see. It seems to smile sweetly at Rachel the smile that makes you shudder.

The kind of smile that Nico di Angelo would produce.

It was creepy. Very creepy. What kind of boy sends a girl dead flowers? Sociopaths were her best bet. But there was Nico di Angelo... the more likely culprit. It's okay for him to send her dead flowers. She smiles, gently resting on the back of her heels as she bends down. She picks the flowers up, cradling them in her arms. A black pedal breaks off and flies away. She grins. It was so Nico it wasn't even funny.

"Creepy, di Angelo," she calls out, taunting him, knowing that he's listening somewhere. Lurking in the shadows beyond the trees and cave. "If you weren't at this camp I'd think it was a psychopath. But I have to admit, you have style. And if there was one person who I wanted to send me dead flowers... It would be you."


A/N: First of all, please don't ask in the reviews to update Playing The Player. I'm updating it tomorrow. I have this stupid virus in my PC and it won't let me in to Microsoft word. I tried typing it on my phone, but it turned out really crappy. I sorta-maybe fixed the problem and was finally let into my computer. Do you know how painful it was to see all the emails on my phone and not be able to write? Ugh, it was horrible. But now I'm back! With this Rachel/Nico one-shot that was so difficult to write. Hopefully it turned out okay! I'm wishing you all a happy V-day! R&R!