A/N Hi guys! I hope you like this little thing that I churned out. For now, I'm not sure if I want to make it a chaptered series so I left it as incomplete. Let me know if you want to read more from this alternate universe and I'll see what I can do! I would love to hear any responses and reviews you have for this so please don't hesitate to tell me your opinions. I also have a writing tumblr (link is in my bio... same username though), so please feel free to talk to me there/ send me prompts! I love talking with you guys! Hope you like this fic!
Eggs.
It was a Thursday morning when he decided go out to the local supermarket and buy eggs and milk, and flour, and…a whole refrigerator. Essentially. He had been living off of nothing but Spaghettios and microwaveable popcorn for the past week and a half until he too had finished those sickening rations.
The weather outside was anything less than March's promised Spring, Percy soon found as he cracked open his apartment building's main door, allowing an unwelcomed gust of cold air to burst through. Snow blanketed the city in a pure white fleece and the streets were quiet and crisp, with exception to the whistling wind. For once, New York lacked its trademark bustling and noise, as all was muted by the white dust that clogged the intersections.
Percy shoved his fists in the safety of his coat pockets and began trudging north. With a scarf wrapped tightly over his cold nose and a hat fit snugly over his bed head, he shuffled out into the main roads chanting the same mantra over and over in his head. Eggs, milk, flour, pancakes. Eggs, milk, flour, pancakes. Eggs, milk, flour… His foot missed its next step and he soon found himself slipping on a patch of ice. Thankfully, Percy was able to catch himself, but was not spared of his arms flailing wildly like a goose in the process. He exhaled a quick breath of relief that instantly dissipated into a visible puff of white air.
After twenty minutes of almost falling and breaking a vital limb, Percy finally reached his trusty old Mom and Pop "QuickerMart" grocery store and flung himself inside the safety of its warm embrace. As he began unraveling his scarf-bound head, thoughts of the many years and memories he had at this very store sifted through his mind.
Back in his freshman year of high school, Percy went behind his mother's back to pursue work and an extra source of income for his family. His mother was a single parent working to support the two of them ever since his father left, and she had too much pride and love in her to admit needing help.
The old couple who owned the shop immediately took him in after his first interview and insisted that he called them "Dave and Barbara" instead of "Mr. and Mrs. Welch." Barbs, what Dave and the rest of the employers called the queen of QuickerMart, quickly took to treating Percy as one of her own children, and the two of them would often have tea together when his shifts as cashier boy and "all around shop cleaner" were over. They would talk about his mom, Dave and Barbara's long marriage, and sometimes even the girls at Percy's high school. The Welches had one son named Aaron that was off in college. Barbs and Dave frequented showing Percy a few photo albums with naked Aaron in the bath and the family dog eating Aaron's third birthday cake. They would tell Percy that the two of them could be great friends, recounting in similar interests such as swimming and marine wildlife. But when he asked when Aaron would stop by again so that they could meet for the first time, they would say, "Oh he doesn't visit much anymore—college keeps him real busy!" and they would turn away from him, perhaps wiping away any stray tears that fell from their eyes.
The Bee Gees began playing faintly from the overhead speakers, knocking Percy briefly out of his reverie. He grabbed a basket and made quick movement towards the dairy section, refusing the urge to move to the beats of Staying Alive. The linoleum tiles were sticky and each step he took made an annoying nyup nyup nyup sound. Percy was brought back to one particular late night that he spent here, mopping up the floors after a kid knocked over some orange juice.
It has been five years since he left his job here to attend college. Dave and Barbara no longer own the store and are both retired on the warm beaches of Florida. The couple confessed to originally wanting Percy to take on the store and pass on the "family name" at his high school graduation. Percy had really become a second child to them, but they realized it was a lost dream and that they were losing yet another son to college. QuickerMart was now owned by a real Welch—some distant cousin's kid that needed an income to support their gambling addiction. QuickerMart was losing its neighborhood familiarity as it was being beaten out of the arena by famous chain stores like Safeway. Percy speculates with a heavy feeling that it will soon close because of the competition and the current owner's neglect towards the necessities of the store.
He picked up a carton of milk and observed the depleting pile of goods in front of his eyes. With luck, this carton of milk wouldn't go bad until tomorrow, unlike last time when it was spoiled before he even opened it. He was unbearably sad to see it go, so he made that extra ten minute trip to this store every time he needed groceries in hopes that his meager purchases would bring the store back to its old glory days. Even so, now this meant getting nearly inedible food and having to hand carry his purchases back to his apartment in the snow for twenty something minutes.
Once he collected most of his remaining goods in the half-stocked shelves, he headed towards the egg section, praying for one carton to remain untouched and waiting for his purchase. As he made his way there, he noticed only one case of eggs sitting in the center of the shelf. Percy internally clicked his heels in glee and dashed over to the messiah of eggs. He greedily closed his fingers around the carton the second he made it over.
"NO!" A flurry of footsteps stronger than the wind outside followed the loud exclamation.
Percy jumped at the sudden sound and nearly released the sacred box of eggs. His heart was pounding out of his chest, not because of the shout, but because he nearly dropped QuickerMart's last carton of eggs—the last eggs he could probably get before collapsing from starvation. He snapped his head around to face the perpetrator, but he was instantly assaulted by ferocious, stormy grey eyes and a tousled blonde mane.
"I-I'm sorry...?" Percy began, contorting his face to create the most perplexed and frightened look he could muster. He did not expect this at all. And she was pretty. Damn it.
"Yeah, you should be!" The blonde was not happy, that was for sure. She put her hands on her waist and bent a little to catch her breath from whatever exerting activity she had been doing before. The woman facing Percy was tall and slender with enough build to tell him that she runs at least three times a week. She wore a burgundy trench coat, dark colored jeans, and a pair of snow boots that made a wet trail from the aisle she ran from to get to here. Her coat was unbuttoned just enough to show a fading tan line on her neck.
"Um…" Percy couldn't find any words. He was still holding onto the eggs and his shopping basket.
"Those eggs," She spoke in increments, allowing herself to heave for air within the gaps, "are the last ones…in the store."
"Yes…I'm quite aware of that." He stared her straight into her penetrating gaze. What did she want? She sure was pretty…Did he already say that? He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.
"I need those eggs." She stood up straight, having finally recuperated.
"Well I need them too."
They continued to their stand off, waiting to see who would cripple first and give the eggs to the victor. The Bee Gees's More Than A Woman began playing. Jesus was this awkward.
"Um…aren't there other stores around here that you could get eggs from?" Percy flicked his gaze back and forth between her stormy eyes.
"I could ask you the same thing," She seemed less irate now, only just a tad irritated. She ran a hand through her curly hair and let out a sigh of frustration. "Well, I'm new to town and my phone just died so I can't risk going about finding new stores in this type of weather without getting lost," she explained.
"I see, so you're a foreigner?" Percy cocked his head, slightly amused by the sight of this woman's mess. She seemed like a generally put together and hard working type of girl, successful at a young age and wore a non shit-taking attitude. This turn of events for her must be out of the ordinary.
She visibly relaxed a bit as she caught onto his playful change of attitude. "Very funny. I'm from California. San Francisco, to be exact."
"And I'm a New York native." He put down the shopping basket and extended a hand out towards her. She slowly took it with a perplexed expression.
"Annabeth." She offered, still shaking his hand. He was still shaking hers too. It was weird.
"Annabeth. What an interesting name. I'm not going to get a last name out of you, then?"
"We just met. Last names get a bit personal."
"Okay then! Well I'm Perseus Jackson, but I prefer Percy. Less of a mouthful, you know?"
They were still shaking hands, but Percy's started to become a bit clammy from the warmth…or was it also something else?
She pulled her hand out of the awkward contact and rubbed it a bit on her pants to remove the sweat. Percy didn't mind, though. "Perseus…like in the Greek myths?"
"The very same." He shot her a wide grin. "My mom loved mythology. She told them to me as bedtime stories when I was little."
"That sounds obscenely gruesome."
"Only sometimes. Apparently I clapped every time my mom got to the end of the Medusa story…you know, with her head being cut off and rolling on the ground."
She let out a tiny giggle and Percy thought he felt the heavens break open. It was such a beautiful sound. He was going insane.
"So anyways, Annabeth from San Francisco, what brings you here to the glorious state of good pizza and rude cabbies?"
"Is that going to be my name from now on? Annabeth from San Francisco?" She had a smile playing on her flushed lips.
"Yes, Annabeth from San Francisco. It is your name now since you refuse to tell me your whole name." He loved this banter thing they had going on. Even though she was a complete stranger, he already found himself becoming completely comfortable with her tiny laughs and intense eyes.
She pressed her lips together and cocked her head to the side, as if contemplating whether or not to share such personal details with a complete stranger she met in the egg aisle of a grocery store.
"Job promotion at an architectural firm in New York." She finally said, crossing her arms. Annabeth looked as if she had just lost some internal battle with herself. "I graduated from UCSF last year and took on a job at the company I interned at previously. They offered a few employees the chance to go to the Big Apple and work on a new design idea for a government owned public complex. I put my resume in just to see what would happen and, well, here I am." She gestured to the air surrounding her.
"You're in a failing grocery store owned by a gambling addict with a side obsession of the Bee Gees."
"Pretty much."
They started laughing uncontrollably. Percy realized he enjoyed looking at the slight crinkles by Annabeth's eyes each time she smiled. She seemed to have that quiet kind of beauty like the snow that was piling outside. The beauty that gets noticeably prettier and prettier the longer you look at it. They fell into silence again and Percy cleared his throat while running his free hand through his bedhead. He was suddenly conscious of the fact that he did nothing whatsoever to improve his appearances this morning. The carton of eggs was still gripped in his left hand. A great idea sparked within his fried brain.
"Hey, uh, how about," he began slowly, testing out each word with delicacy. This could go wrong very quickly. Pity, because he liked talking to her.
"How about…?" Annabeth repeated, prompting him to continue.
"Well, I'm assuming you came here in a car, and I happen to be a local, so how about I take these eggs and you drive me back to my apartment? I'll make you and I some pancakes and then I can help navigate you to another grocery store to pick up some fresh eggs?" Percy didn't know where he got the guts to spit those words out. It was certainly not him, that was for sure. She was far too pretty and smart for a guy like Percy.
"Are you asking me to go to your house—the house of a man I just met in a grocery store less than half an hour ago?"
Half an hour? Has it really been that long?
"I mean—um—no—that's totally—sorry—" He spluttered on and on. What the hell was he thinking?
"Oh shut it, I'd love to. You don't seem like an axe murderer yet, so I guess I could see how good a guy like you can whip up some buttermilk pancakes. Plus, I've never had breakfast food at 12:30 in the afternoon before." She smiled at the sight of his previous embarrassment.
"Holy smokes—really?" he exclaimed. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. "Don't worry, I swear I'm not an axe murderer yet either."
"Yet?" She raised an eyebrow.
"We can never predict the future." He gleefully placed the eggs in his shopping basket and picked the entire thing up, preparing to head towards the register.
"Then I guess I'm fine with taking my chances." She flashed a quirky smile at him and they headed towards checkout.
"Chase, by the way." She said as he placed the eggs on the checkout's conveyor belt.
"Chase what? These eggs aren't organic like the ones in California so they most likely won't hatch. No chasing chickens—"
"No, you seaweed brain, my last name. It's Chase."
"I see." He threw her a mischievous grin. "Annabeth Chase." he tested out the words on his tongue. They settled quite nicely there. "Say, Annabeth Chase, is seaweed brain a saying they have in California? It's really weird." She smacked his forearm and he held up his hands in defeat.
When they arrived in his apartment, he gave her a grand tour of the tiny one bedroom place. She fell in love with the photo he had of him with his mother when he was five on his first day to kindergarten. The pancakes he made ended up a bit burnt on the edges, but it didn't matter because they ended up drowning the little buggers in liters of syrup. The two of them ended up talking and laughing hysterically for hours in his dingy little kitchen that smelled of vanilla and sugar—an obscenely manly combination. Percy hadn't been this happy since he moved out of his mother and stepfather, Paul's house in the nice suburban parts of upstate New York. Who could have ever guessed that a carton of eggs and outdated disco music in rundown grocery stores could lead to this?