A.N. Hello all viewers! This is my 2nd Percy Jackson multichaptered story and the first in which I am actally organised in (yay) it's going to be focused on Alabaster C. Torrington from the Demigod Diaries and for those of you who don't know, he is a son of Hecate and on Luke's side in the Titan war. When Hecate was forgiven for joining the titans the gods agreed for her children to be unpunished on their return to Camp Half-Blood but they outcast Alabaster because he was not loyal to the gods - he pretty much hated them, actually - and he was left on the streets where Laima, his monsterous half-sister, joined the fun. In the end Alabaster and Claymore, a man who prett much ties their fates together, escape from Lamia after Alabaster discovers a spell that can bind Lamia to the earth. And that pretty much wraps up the story, I'd still recommend reading it though - it's amazing.

So, I should be updating this once a week, I have the first 18 chapters written out and am about half way through the 19th so I am nicely into the swing of things by now.

Please take the time to leave a review with CC or praise or just a quote you did(n't) like. I'm not fussy, although flames will be used to set people's houses on fire ;) Consider yourselfs warned.

Fleeting Earth Hours

9-11-1997

It was cold in Mississippi, as wind snatched at scarves and the long fingers of winter began to steal August's warmth from the world.

Carlos sat by the bar, gulping down large quantities of beer when she walked in.

Or, more accurately, Carlos was drowning himself in something alcoholic when he heard the door swing open, then close.

"A cherry spritzer," she said, pulling down the hood of her cloak. Carlos glanced at her from the corner of his eye in passing as she pulled out a stool beside him.

Gulping down the last of his drink, Carlos sat back watching the world spin by in bright colours.

"What are you doing here?" he said as she pulled something round and black from her coat pocket.

"Will I answer that question?" she asked the ball.

Then she held it up so that Carlos could read the message. It was blurred, but through the meandering letters, Carlos could just make out the words 'no chance'.

"You have a magic-8 ball?" he asked slightly sceptically.

She turned to face him properly, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and Carlos was immediately struck by the intensity of her eyes. They were bright green. No, that didn't do them justice. They were incredible, impossible.

"Don't you believe in magic?" she asked.

Carlos reached behind her ear, pulling a dollar and twisting it between his fingers. "Should I?"

She blew into her hands, and threw them wide casting a free a bird that flew towards the rafters in a spiral. Carlos stared; mouth open and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't you believe in magic?" she asked again.

"How did you-?" began Carlos.

"I've got to go," she said quickly as her drink was placed in front of her. Then she turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement: "See you round, Carlos."

And before Carlos could ask her when and where and how she knew his name and what was hers she had gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

There was a long, slow whistle from behind the counter as Benedict eyed Carlos in an impressed manner whilst rubbing down some glasses.

"You've got one good un there," he said with a wink. "Tell her she'd be welcome here from 5 'til 6 on a Saturday for the entertainment, I'm sure I could squeeze something as special as that between the fiddlers."

"I'll tell her," said Carlos and as Benedict turned away, "if I ever see her again."

Pushing his tab across the table he said; "How about I pay for half now and make it up to you by playing tomorrow?"

"Done," said Benedict with a wry smile. "Just make sure you add 'Don't Speak' to your playlist."

"I can't sing it alone," said Carlos.

"Janie will sing with you," smiled Benedict.

"I thought you didn't like 'modern music'?"

Benedict shrugged, "What with all the teenagers in here these days, I thought we may as well get with the times."

"And you're using me to head your statement," finished Carlos, grinning.

"Problem?"

"Nah," Carlos laughed. "Bring on the next generation," he paused and thought through his words. "Wow, I sound old."

He left the pub with Benedict's roaring laughter following him through the door into the cold autumn air.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Carlos felt something cold brush against his cheek. Rain?

He looked up into the clouded sky and frowned: snow.

It snowed in a small blizzard around him; Carlos cupped his hands and watched in a kind of awed fascination as the snow flew towards him. Between his fingers, the crystallized ice melded together until Carlos was holding a note, slightly damp, but still paper with words scrawled across it.

Don't you believe in magic? Catch'ya later - Helena

Carlos shook his head, smiling broadly and blinking in astonishment. Then he folded the letter and, twisting it between his fingers, headed home.

He would see this Helena again.

Catch'ya later; he thought with a new spring in his step.

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