Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. He belongs to Rick Riordan. So yeah.
This story is obviously a work in progress, but I had the idea of the beginning one night and decided to write it. If you have any suggestions, please make them. Also, I don't think I'm very good at writing for either character, but I will be trying my best. Common AU where Percy is the son of a rich business figure and Annabeth is an aspiring architect. Will include most characters from the books, and will have the cannon pairings.
Girl
I hadn't put too much thought into the idea of what exactly I had wanted to eat, but scanning the menu, I acknowledged how heavenly the selection seemed. The food ranged from Belgium waffles to fresh baked ham, though neither of those were my go-to. Finally, after roughly thirty seconds, I found my favorite meal.
"I'll have the chicken tenders with fries, please," I said politely. The waitress, who appeared to be in her late twenties, smiled sweetly and took my menu.
"It'll be done within the half-hour," she said before slipping away to another table. I sighed, aware that she had probably lied.
When I'd entered the diner, there hadn't been an empty seat. It took ten minutes to be seated, and another fifteen for the waitress to find me. Then, it was another fifteen minutes between ordering my drink and getting it.
I sipped on my coke consciously, a feeling of solitude plaguing my mind. Originally, I had planned to skip dinner. Sadly, my body had betrayed me, and that was how I ended up at the diner alone and bored out of my mind.
Time took forever to pass, so I decided to begin secretly observing others. Despite its creepiness, I had little else to do, as my phone had died roughly an hour ago.
Studying each face, I saw a mix of joy and discomfort from across the room, but most people appeared content with their situation. The staring was mostly harmless, at least until an old man made direct eye contact with me.
After lowering my head for a minute or so, I heard loud voices near the entrance. Turning around, I saw a waitress trying her best to calm a blonde girl.
The blonde looked around my age, with a Californian tan cascading across her skin. Her hair was curled like that of a princess, and her eyes twinkled in whimsical gray spheres.
"I'm begging you," she said, her voice strong despite her desperation. "I just need a quick bite. I won't be too long."
"We don't accept anyone after 10," the waitress said, her tone apathetic. "Even if we did, there are no seats available."
"Here are your tenders, sir," my waitress said, bringing my attention to my food. "Careful, the plate's still hot."
"Thank you," I said, sliding the plate closer to me. I turned back to the blonde at the entrance, and a feeling struck my gut.
"What if she shared my table?" I said to the waitress, her eyes also focused on the scene. That snapped her away, and she gave it a moment's hesitation. "I mean, it'll still only be one table to clean. Of course, I don't want to break your rules."
The waitress raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said, nodding in confirmation. "That is, if she is willing to share a booth with a stranger."
The waitress smiled, then went to the arguing patron and worker. I saw her whisper something in her coworker's ear, and after she nodded slowly, the waitress gave the blonde my offer. Ten seconds later, I was no longer alone.
"Thank you," the blonde said, scooting into the other side. She held bags I hadn't seen her holding before, and she kept a hand on them protectively. "Do you mind if I work on some stuff?" she asked.
"No problem," I said. She pulled out several papers, most appearing to be blueprints of buildings. The structures looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"City hall," the girl answered my unarticulated question. "Just studying the schematics."
"Fun," I said, more sarcasm leaking out than I had anticipated.
"And what do you do in your free time?" she asked indignantly.
I pondered the question a moment. "Eat. Or swim. Mostly sleep, though."
"Exhilarating," the blonde retorted. I instinctively snorted, which in turn caused me to receive a strange look.
"Okay there, Porky?" she teased, amusement interlaced in her words.
"I prefer Charlotte," I answered.
She looked at me blankly, and after five seconds, she burst into laughter. "That's the spider, you uncultured swine."
"First off, I see what you did there," I said, referring to the pun. "Secondly, I don't remember the movie. Other than the pig being the main character."
"How would the pig make a web?" she questioned.
"Same way Spider-Man does," I argued.
"This conversation is becoming less and less intellectual with every word," the girl mumbled loud enough so I could hear.
"Well, that's what happens when you challenge an intellectual like myself," I commented, causing her to smile despite resuming her studying.
"And what would you like, ma'am?" the waitress said, appearing out of what seemed like thin air.
The girl contemplated for only a moment. "Chicken tenders please. With a coke."
The waitress paused whilst writing, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged.
"It'll be out as soon as possible," the waitress said, though the girl hardly paid her mind.
"Rather rude not to make eye contact," I said once the waitress was gone.
"I have to memorize this by 7 o'clock tomorrow morning," the girl said, retaining her bent neck. "I'm trying to make every second count."
I blew air of my nose, then decided to begin eating my dinner.
Almost like she was a clarion call, my eyes perpetually returned to the girl in front of me, despite my best efforts to look away. Her hair laid beautifully upon her shoulders, appearing to glimmer in the diner's dim lighting.
Halfway through my meal, a smaller, more feminine hand than my own reached across the table, grabbing a few fries from my plate.
"Thievery," I announced calmly, continuing to eat my tenders. "Punishable by death back in the day."
"So was claiming that the earth was round," she retorted, her eyes unmoving from the papers. "Tell me, what rumors have you been spreading?"
"You owe me at least three fries."
She reached across once more, grabbing a handful of fries.
"More than three," I corrected, speaking more to myself then her. "Certainly more."
I saw her crack a smile, and then for next few minutes, I ate in a comfortable silence. She continued her studying, every so often taking more of my fries. Eventually, I finished my chicken, but by that time my fries were gone.
"So, what're you doing here alone?" the girl asked, raising her head to look at me. I froze, my mind absorbed in her startling gray eyes.
"I should ask you the same thing," I replied quickly, trying to play off my moment's hesitation.
"I asked first," she said. "Rule is, you answer the question first. I'll answer after."
"Is that before of after the 'don't steal a stranger's fries' rule?" I retorted, causing her to give me a certain look.
"Fine, I'll answer," I conceded. "Me mum's a real working madonna, and me paps left me when I was a mere baby lad. Made the grand trip over the pond only a fortnight past, so I ain't got no mates nor a fancy hen to call me own." My fake Scottish accent was atrocious, yet the girl giggled.
"Some of that was honest, by the way," I explained, the girl's giggled slowing down. "Just thought it'd be fun to say in an accent."
The girl ran her hand through her hair, and my heart began beating faster. "Well, you certainly made it more entertaining to hear," she complimented. "Though you need to work on it a bit more."
"There's room for improvement," I acknowledged. "Anyways, your answer, if you will?"
She smirked at my formality. "Neither family nor friends wanted to go out at 10 to eat," she said. "Surprising, I know. Regardless, I was starving and needed somewhere peaceful to work."
"This is peaceful?" I said, referring to the multitude of voices coming from around us.
"Better than my house," she commented. "My little brothers never shut up, and my dad's not what you could call a disciplinary man. At least, not to them."
"Ah," was all I said.
"My dad and mom split," she explained, as if reading my mind. "Mom lives in New York as an architect."
"Following in her footsteps?" I inferred.
"Yeah, you could say that."
We looked at each other, comfortable under the other's gaze. We were stuck in our own bubble, immune to any awkwardness or verbal beckoning. That was, until the waitress arrived with her food.
"Your tenders and fries," the waitress said, breaking the mutual trance. "And a coke," she said, sliding the glass in front of the plate. "I'll be back with your check, sir, in just a few minutes."
I nodded my head in appreciation. Once the waitress turned around, I quickly reached across and grabbed a handful of the girl's fries.
"Ever head of third degree murder?" the girl asked as I chewed on a couple fries. "Because soon enough I may not have commitment issues."
"Just give me a moment to jot down my will," I said, chewing joyfully in the fries. "After that, you may do as you please. By the way, it took them 30 minutes for my order. Yours only took ten."
"It's called the intellectual hierarchy," the girl explained mockingly. "Smarter you are, the bigger priority."
"Explains why you couldn't get a seat," I said, going along with it. "They didn't want to disappoint you with lousy booths. Either go big or go home."
"Absolutely," the girl agreed, dipping a tender in ketchup. "Lucky for them, I'm merciful."
"May God forever be this generous."
"Calling me God?"
I looked at her, then shook my head. "Maybe a god, but not the God."
"I'll tell Jesus of the predicament."
"Yeah, get the golden boy in on it."
"Your bill, sir," the waitress interrupted, handing me a receipt. "Ma'am, if you don't want anything else, I will gladly bring yours. Take your time, though, we don't want to rush you."
The girl simply nodded, a tender halfway out of her mouth. I had trouble not bursting out in laughter, but once the waitress walked away, I forwent my reservations.
"That was precious," I said, clapping my hands gently as my eyes watered from amusement. "You should have seen it."
The girl glared at me, then I felt something hit my shin extremely hard.
I opened my mouth for a moment, bordering between yelling and speaking. Instead, I simply said "ow."
I pulled out a ten-dollar bill from my wallet, then a couple ones for tip.
"So, you're new around here?" the girl asked, splitting a tender in half to cool it faster.
"Yes ma'am," I replied. "I'm still in the process of learning where to get good food."
"Chicken tenders are of the most pristine quality," the girl commented. "Are you still in school?"
I shook my head. "I got an associate's back in New York a year ago, but I didn't have the money to go further. I'm here for a job."
"Here I was hoping to give you a tour of the local campus," she said. Her voice held something, but I couldn't pinpoint it.
Looking up at the clock on the wall, the hour hand read 11.
"You've only got eight hours to study before game day," I observed, referring to the time. "And I need my beauty sleep." I rose from my chair, stretching to rid myself of any stiffness.
"I didn't catch your name, by the way," the girl said, ceasing to eat and instead facing me with full attention.
"Percy," I said, holding my hand out. "Percy Jackson."
She took my hand. "I'm Annabeth Chase."
We shook hands, the trance from earlier seeming to overcome us once more. Then, the bells at the exit rang, and the trance broke.
Withdrawing our hands, I remained hesitant to leave. For some reason, something was keeping me still.
"Hope to see you around, Percy," Annabeth said, her lips forming a smirk.
"You too, Annabeth," I said, returning a smile.
With that, I turned away and began my way out. Before I opened the door, I looked back at my booth, the girl diligently studying her papers. I felt a feeling rise in my stomach, but I pushed it down with a sigh. The bells rang above, and I escaped into the night.