The Best Thing
Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: PG, so far. Rating might go up, though. Not sure how amorous these two are going to get.
Genre: Romance, waff, general sappiness. Some humor, maybe.
Pairings: Percy/Annabeth.
Canon/timeline: Post-TLO.
Disclaimer: Everything Percy Jackson-related belongs to Rick Riordan. Title, summary and lyrics taken from the song "Drive Away" by Orianthi.
Summary: It's not hard to see why they fell in love so completely. Percy/Annabeth, Post-TLO.
Author's Note: I wrote this fic in like a day, halfway through finishing Sea of Monsters. And then it took me forever to get it in posting shape, because I kept having to go back and revise stuff that was completely off from canon (still, if you find something that's still out of place or needs to be corrected, let me know!). It's also the reason why there's no mention of Thalia, Rachel, Nico... Well, I guess that doesn't really matter, just assume they're around... somewhere...
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We are on this road to forever.
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Percy took a deep breath when he finally stepped off the boat and onto the dock. Not that he didn't like traveling by sea- quite the contrary, obviously- but there was something about breathing California air that was comforting. The sun was setting, so it was chilly and getting dark, but it meant he was almost home.
All in all, it had been an uneventful trip back to the USA. After letting his co-workers know that, due to some scheduling problems, he was catching a later flight (he wasn't, of course, but he couldn't exactly come out and say that he couldn't take a plane for fear that the aircraft might be struck down by lightning courtesy of his King-of-the-gods uncle), he had gotten in contact with a local satyr who owned a decent-sized fishing boat, and to whom he had offered a nice compensation if he could get a ride to and from Australia.
Okay, so it wasn't as cool as hippocampi, but it was subtler. And when crossing international borders, subtle is good.
The satyr, a contact of Grover's, had jumped at the opportunity. Apparently, it was a win-win situation, traveling with a son of the Sea God: no need to navigate, and plenty of time to (ac-hem) appreciate Pacific Nereids, whom he had quite a fixation on. It was quite a convenient arrangement for Percy as well, after all he wasn't likely to be attacked by monsters in his father's domain; with his abilities he could never get lost, and he could get from Cairns to San Diego quickly enough (even against the North and South Equatorial currents), with his co-workers being none the wiser. It might have been faster and cheaper to use his nifty son-of-the-Sea-God powers to just appear in the New York state shore, but it wasn't as easy when carrying luggage and a bunch of research documents, and unfortunately even demigods were subject to immigration laws. It was a neat arrangement, considering. He'd have to make sure to contact his satyr friend when he came back in the fall.
He waved goodbye and thank you to his companion still in the boat as he walked away, dutifully moving toward the customs area.
Once he was declared legally back in the country and had reserved his Greyhound tickets for the next day, he stopped by a fast-food place and got something to eat (a tasty hamburger. He didn't begrudge anyone being a vegetarian- some of his best friends were vegetarians, after all- but his co-workers tended to be a bit snobbish about it and he felt uncomfortable eating meat in front of them, so he had been itching for a burger for the past three weeks). Once he was done, he walked down to the closest beach. He had one last stop to make before heading back to New York City.
He made sure that no regular humans were around to see him dive into the sea and fail to float back out. Annabeth would be proud.
"Nice of you to visit, son," he was greeted by his father upon arrival at his palace, which a manta ray had led him to, as per the Sea Gods's summons. He'd been down there a few times, and he could probably find his way back on his own if he tried (his brain was already whispering coordinates in his ear), but why bother if his father's vassals were so accomodating? The god handwaved the young man's respectful bow upon entrance- apparently, things were a whole lot more informal in his sanctum than in Olympus, which was just fine for Percy.
Poseidon quickly made his point: he needed Percy to retrieve some sort of artifact a disgruntled cyclops had thrown away. You know, the usual. However, he also took the opportunity to give Percy some pointers about his upcoming fall project ("I'm no algae-hugger, of course, but what humans are doing to my coral reefs is ridiculous. I'm glad at least you're there to help somehow"), and to ask him to relay a similar message to the Council of Cloven Elders to see if they could get some more support. Percy had to complain on principle ("Why are you using me as a messenger? Isn't that sort of Hermes' job?" was as far as he got before a Nereid reminded him that he shouldn't toss around Gods' names like that), but afterwards agreed that it would probably be a good idea. He knew Grover, at least, would be all up for it, if the little dance he did when Percy first went into Marine Biology was any indication.
His father offered him some time to rest after his trip (maneuvering ocean currents across the Pacific was no easy feat, and he hadn't slept in a while). Since Percy had already eaten, they simply took some time out in one of the palace's spacious rooms, ensconced in an underground cove and filled with every luxury available. Clearly not what you'd expect to find in an underwater hole in the rock; more like a "bachelor pad"- even though Poseidon wasn't exactly a bachelor- or the expected outcome of a god's version of a mid-life crisis. They went in and caught up on each other's lives.
It was still odd, having a normal conversation with his previously-absentee father. But they were getting better at it.
He was halfway through explaining how he had gotten this internship, the one that would take him on a research trip to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, when his father's comment came. It wasn't a particularly long story: After the defeat of Kronos, Annabeth had moved to New York. From there, she could oversee the reconstruction of Olympus while studying at the same time. She was currently majoring in architecture at NYU and was doing great at it, despite stubborn demigod learning disabilities. Percy, with his dismal grades, wasn't quite NYU material (although he had tried), so he wound up taking his BS at a smaller college, also in New York.
The cool thing about having a girlfriend at NYU, though, was that she got to meet lots of people and go to lots of important events- one of which was a seminar by a well-known field researcher of anthozoa that coincidentally was planning a research trip to Northern Australia the following year. Annabeth introduced him to Percy and seeing his enthusiasm about the subject and the way he had applied himself to his studies, the man had offered him an intern position and a seat in their fall trip.
The trip wasn't underway yet (this recent foray to Australia was just to arrange the logistics, they had to leave everything ready before cyclone season chased them away), but he'd already learned so much in the short time he'd been with the Professor's team... Hands-on learning was the way to go for Percy. He loved his job, and he would be forever thankful to Annabeth for helping him get this chance.
He must've sighed or something, because his father let out a hearty laugh. "I have never seen someone as smitten as you, boy," Poseidon let him know, apparently too amused to notice his twenty-two year old son glaring daggers at him. "You've barely been away from her for three weeks, and already you don't know what to do with yourself. Trust a daughter of Athena to turn a man into an idiot just like that." Percy rolled his eyes at his progenitor, a bit miffed by the comment but mature enough to understand his father wasn't really making fun of him. And it was a true fact, anyway, that he was a fool where Annabeth was concerned. He had always been.
He leaned against the backrest of his leathered-upholstered chair, stretching his back in the process. It had been three and a half weeks since he had last seen her. They'd talked via Iris-message, of course, when the time difference between Australia and New York allowed them to (fourteen hours. Fourteen hours!), but it wasn't the same. They'd had plenty of practice with long distance- after all, the first two years of their relationship, they'd lived on opposite sides of the country. But when you add to that the fact that she was busy with her Olympian job and her classes, and he was busy with his internship and his classes, they hadn't had any time to themselves in a long while. And now he'd be away from her for almost three months... he had to go on this trip, it was just one of those things he had to do, but he wasn't sure how he was going to live without her that long.
Realizing how much of a sap he actually was, he gave up on the pretense of anger. Too late to appear macho now. "Dad, you've never loved someone this much." There was no need to qualify how much, it was just obvious in his tone. In everything he did. "I mean, you've been with so many women..." He wasn't looking at his father; he was actually looking down at his knees, but the look of determination in his eyes was so strong that there was no doubting his words. That was a gift and curse of being of divine heritage: you always felt things so strongly.
Poseidon tensed his jaw. "I know what image humans have of us gods, Percy, but let me make this clear," he sentenced gravely. "I have cared very deeply for every woman I have ever been with. My relationships with mortals weren't merely just to past the time, no matter what you may think," he finished, voice almost thundering.
Percy looked up at him, apologetic. "I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," he admitted, going back to his contemplative state once again. "It's like... you love this person so much that you just know you could never, ever love anyone else. You know?" he questioned instead, his heart on his sleeve.
That gave Poseidon pause. Intellectually, he knew, understood what his son was saying, but he wasn't sure he could empathize. "It's different when you're immortal," he admitted.
Percy nodded. That's just what he had thought. "I don't think I could ever do that," he explained, hoping he was making sense. He didn't really know what he was saying, he didn't even want to imagine it, let alone put it into words. "I mean... letting her go and then just... shacking up with someone else? What's the point? It would never be her."
Poseidon stood up, and moved to sit beside his son. He put a hand on his shoulder. "I guess that's how you know you made the right choice," he said.
"Yeah, I made the right choice..." he agreed, although it sounded like he was talking more to himself than in reply to his father. He moved forward to lean his weight against his thighs, his brow crinkled as he lost himself in thought. It was a long, heavy silence. But then, the young man's eyes widened.
Something had just hit him. Hard.
"...And I think I just made another one," Percy sentenced, eyes wide but suddenly gleaming with purpose. Poseidon hastily removed his hand as the dark-haired young man hurriedly stood up, looking around for his traveling bag. "I gotta go now, dad. Thanks for the break, it was nice speaking to you. I'll get you your sacred... thing, whatever," he said all of this really fast and seemingly distracted, his gaze not pausing on his father even once. A couple seconds later he found his bag on the floor, picked it up and rushed out of the room. "Bye! Oh, hey, I just float on up until I get to the surface, right?"
And with that he was gone.
The King of the Sea was left standing in his lounge, debating to himself whether a small whirlpool had just gone in and out of his palace in the blink of an eye. But then he laughed; he could, after all, read his son's mind. Kids these days! He just may have to make a trip to Olympus now, he decided. He just had to be there when the news was broken to Athena. Her expression would be priceless.
.
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It was around seven in the morning when he made it back to his apartment in New York city. He didn't even bother with his bag, just dropped it, along with his heavy jacket, somewhere in the living room, and walked straight to his bedroom. Carefully opening the door, he leaned against the doorframe in contemplation; it was absolutely worth it, risking the wrath of a certain temperamental god for every second of a five hour long commercial flight just to be greeted with such a beautiful sight upon returning.
He quietly walked closer to the bed, taking her sleeping form in. Her golden hair was splayed all over her pillow, framing her head. She was very still, her breath even, chest lightly rising and falling underneath her forest green camisole. She was hugging his pillow to her; he had to chuckle at that- surely it must feel like a poor replacement, since she usually slept with her arms around him instead, but that was probably the closest thing she had during his absence. It was sweet.
Kneeling down beside her, he moved a curl of her hair to the side, so it wasn't falling over her face. "Hey," he whispered in her ear, hoping to draw her from sleep slowly. She was a deep sleeper these days, since she was always so tired from school and work, but he still didn't want to startle her and end up with a celestial bronze dagger at his throat. She really was not a morning person, at all.
He cheered mentally when she started to stir. "Percy?" She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes struggling to open and her voice husky from sleep. "You're back early."
"Yeah, well..." He gave her a lopsided grin, eyes shining warmly, as she turned around so she could look at him. "I missed you," he finished with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And for him, it probably was. He had told her he missed her countless times over the last three and a half weeks, but the words never lost that honest feeling.
She smiled at him. "Hm. Missed you too," she said. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead very lightly. She cleared her throat lightly, then leaned toward her nightstand to grab the glass of water she had left there the night before. She took a drink before talking again, her voice a little less scratchy. "So, how was the trip back?" she said as she put the glass back down.
He did not reply; he simply stared at her, seeming half nervous and half fascinated. Sea green eyes bored into her liquid gray, and the silence stretched. She wasn't quite sure what to think of his sudden intense gaze, and was about to ask him if anything was wrong when he took a deep breath and blurted out: "Marry me."
It took a couple of heartbeats for her brain to process the words, but once she figured out what he was asking she lifted herself up on her forearms, all traces of sleep gone from her expression in that split second. "What did you say?" she asked, almost gaping at him. It wasn't often that she was rendered speechless, but at the moment he was too nervous to even think of teasing her.
He licked his lips and steeled himself. "Marry me," he repeated, infusing a little bit more confidence into his words.
She stared at him for a moment, pondering the question- well, not the question itself, but where it had come from. "Are you sure?" she asked him, still half in disbelief. "I mean, have you thought this through? This isn't something you should do on an impulse..." He groaned, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "You just came up with this idea, didn't you?"
"Well, to be fair, it was about eleven hours ago, but... yeah, it was kind of a sudden decision," he admitted, growing sheepish as she glared daggers at him. Before she could interject something not particularly gleeful, though, he shook his head emphatically. "But that's kind of the beauty of it, really," he added, words nothing but absolutely sincere. "I don't even have to think about it, I just know. I want to be with you forever. That's it," he finished earnestly, every drop of the love he had for her reflecting in his expression. He hadn't really planned this enough to make it romantic (he was mostly winging it, he admitted), but he was speaking directly from his heart.
Her glare softened at that last phrase, but she still hadn't given him an answer. He had known her long enough not to be disheartened- that was Annabeth; she just didn't work on impulse. But he'd be lying if he said that didn't make him feel at all nervous. "Of course, I completely understand if you need to think about it, I mean, it is kind of a big decision, so-"
"Okay," she said halfway through his train of thought, and he was too deep in his rambling to notice the corners of her lips were crinkling up.
He nodded, swallowing hard. "You do need to think about it, then? Yeah, don't worry, I can wait as long as you want. If you think that's what you need, it's alright with me..."
She smiled at him, and moved her hands to frame his face, effectively shutting him up. "I mean 'okay' as in 'I'll marry you'," she clarified, almost laughing at him. Proposal by rambling did sound like a very Percy Jackson thing to do.
At her words, his expression went from half-panicking to oddly confused in the blink of an eye, but she thought it was adorable. "Wait, you... don't need to think about it?" Imagine Annabeth Chase not thinking of every possible outcome for once in her life. He thought of many a smart quip he could make, but this was probably not the moment.
She chuckled, her eyes shining in a way that told him she knew very well what he was thinking. "I've known I wanted spend the rest of my life with you since a long time ago," sheexplained. Perhaps she sounded more matter-of-fact than blushing and gushing, but she was being just as honest as he was earlier, no doubt about it. Then she leaned in a little closer and grinned at him. "Athena always has a plan, remember?" she added, teasing him right back.
He started to grin, so ecstatic that he almost looked like he was thirteen years old and getting ready for chariot races all over again. "Seriously? You'll marry me?" he asked, his tone stupidly hopeful and he didn't even mind anymore if he came across as a sissy. She had said yes, and that was all that mattered.
Of course, she had to rub it in a little. She rolled her eyes overdramatically. "Yes, Seaweed Brain, I'll marry you. Does your dyslexia extend to the spoken word now? Should I be worried that the same will happen to me?" she joked. Didn't she know proposing wasn't exactly easy, even if you were completely sure of your intended one's feelings?
He was too ridiculously happy to take even mock offense, though. Therefore his only response was to wrap his arms around her waist, draw her closer to him and capture her lips with his, pouring his very soul into their first kiss as an engaged couple. She kissed him back just as intensely, her arms moving to his neck and her fingers getting lost in his dark hair, drawing a sigh out of him. When they pulled apart, both breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against hers, softly caressing her nose with his and kissing her closed eyelids. "I love you."
"I love you," she whispered back, a serene smile adorning her face. They remained like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other and the intimacy of the moment. It was rare for them to have simple moments like this nowadays, what with their frantic schedules and all the general pressures of being demigods, so all they could do was treasure these little interludes. He laid his head against her shoulder and kissed her neck, just a fleeting touch. He didn't even mind that his knees were screaming at him for being on that position for so long. The feeling of having her in his arms more than made up for it. Yes, this was nice.
Eventually, though, she started to fidget. "Alright, now," she started, finally opening her eyes and looking down at the top of his head, "could you please come to bed? It's way too early for coherent conversation." See, this is why he loved her so much: any other girl would be too excited for that at the moment, but she wasn't just any other girl- and apparently even a marriage proposal would not come between his fiancée and her sleep.
His fiancée. Gods, that sounded good.
He didn't have time to ponder about it, though, because she started pulling him into the bed. "Wait, wait," he laughed as he almost wound up tangled up on the bedsheets. He slept on the opposite side of the bed, so he ended up having to step over her in order to get there, but she didn't seem to care. When he finally got around, he took back his pillow and laid down, only for her to start insistently tugging at his t-shirt. "Wow. Eager, are we?" he quipped as he took the shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him.
She didn't even bother responding to that. "Mm. You're warm," she said as she wrapped her arms around his torso and snuggled in.
"Glad to be of service," he said dryly. Not that he really minded, of course. He drew the covers over both of them and closed his eyes with a sigh, deciding that sleep was, indeed, a good idea. At least until he remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, we'll go get you a ring this afternoon, okay? If your mother doesn't... smite me in the next couple of hours, that is," he added, almost as an afterthought.
The only response he got from her was an airy "mm-hmm" from her, which let him know that she was already drifting off. He brought her closer to him and, with one last kiss to her temple, he closed his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.