Chapter 1:

Unexpected Findings

Percy Jackson and the Olympians is property of Rick Riordan

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

Line Break

Mariah took one last look at her compact, dabbing away a stray line of lipstick, puckering her ruby red lips slightly. "Perfect," she whispered, closing the mirror and looking back up.

She smiled when the man who'd caught her attention—a tall, rugged brunette with a clean face, his button-down shirt barely containing his rippling muscles—was still sitting at the bar, casually scanning the room.

But when his eye caught hers, he winked.

Gleefully, Mariah took the opening, slowly sauntering forward, an extra sway in her hips. She flushed lightly as the man flashed her a quick, pearly-white grin, pulling out a stool for her to sit down.

As she got settled, the man turned to the bartender, "Two banana daiquiris, vodka."

Mariah smirked, "Ooh! Never had one of those before. Is it," she bit her lips, "Strong?"

The man smirked, "Depends on your taste. Though, personally, my wife has a much stronger mix back home."

Mariah sat up, tilting her head, "And where is-?"

The man clicked his tongue, "She had to stay home, I'm afraid. Though," his voice dipped an octave, sending shivers down Mariah's spine, "she did say that I was free to…sample."

Mariah flashed the man a toothy smile, leaning forward to grip his bicep. She then paused, gently squeezing the arm, "Oh my! I had a feeling you were buff, but this! You're a regular Adonis!"

The man's smirk faltered, eye twitching slightly, "I'm not fond of that comparison to be honest. Personally, I'd call myself Her—!"

Mariah frowned when the man's face grew stern, glaring past her head. She turned, looking out the window at the passerby's. She scowled, whirling her head back around "Hey, buddy, I didn't come all the way out here just to be—"

She was forced to pause, however, when the man quickly brought up his right hand. Before she could utter a 'what?' he snapped his fingers, and a blast of cool air washed over her face.

Mariah sat, dazed and blinking away tears. What was she doing?

"Your banana daiquiris, Miss."

Oh, of course! She smiled; Icebreakers!

Line Break

Herakles grumbled under his breath as he wove his way through New York's. frankly, confusing streets. He'd never spent much time in the city, despite it being the new 'Center of the West'. For various reasons, he stayed in Europe. But Hebe had gotten to talking with someone—one of the Muses if he recalled—and they said New York was the best place for couples to 'spice up the bedroom'. He didn't care much for it—he could (and has) literally walk into a forest and find upwards of fifteen willing partners—but Hebe was ecstatic for the opportunity.

Unfortunately, Alexiares and Anicetus got into some trouble with some Part Ponies the previous night; last he checked, they'd gotten past the sick-to-their-stomachs-phase and were now uneasily resting in the splitting-headache-stage.

Their mother was furious, but Herakles found himself too impressed by the fact that they drank half the German chapter—142 members strong—under the table. Not bad for a couple immortal ten-year-olds.

Where was he…oh right! A cyclops stalking a woman and her child.

The child was a demigod, obviously. Herakles lifted his head up, frowning as the child's face was resting in the crook of his mother's neck. All he could tell was the child had jet-black hair, unlike his mother's soft brown. But that wasn't much, most of his kin had black hair.

He clicked his tongue, lowering his head, it was no matter anyway. The child, regardless of his lineage, was in danger. Speaking of.

Herakles glanced over his shoulder. The cyclops, dressed in a very loose trench coat and a tall, wide-brimmed hat, was awfully determined on following these two. He—or she—didn't even take a moment to acknowledge the fact that Herakles—THE Herakles—was just ten feet in front of her—or him. Although, he supposed he was being awful subtle—just blaring out his power would attract more attention than he wanted at the moment. And it's not like anyone even knew what he actually looked like anymore—especially with that movie that just came out. Why they decided on red hair, he would never know.

Herakles followed the woman for another few blocks, growing perplexed as the cyclops didn't give up the chase, or pick up the pace.

Eventually, they came upon the woman's home, and Herakles decided to end it right then and there before things escalated.

He ducked into an alley, waiting. The moment the cyclops came into view, Herakles shot his arms out, grabbing the monster's sleeves, hurling it backwards.

The cyclops bellowed in shock, arms flailing as it flew in the air. It crashed into a wall with a booming THUD, falling down among a couple trashcans with a rattling CRASH.

With a calm smirk, Herakles strode forward cracking his knuckles, "I'm going to give you one chance. Give up on the boy and his mother; I'm sure there are enough stray rats for you to snack on."

The cyclops shakily stood up on both legs, glaring at Herakles with his—it was easy to tell without the hat—lone black eye.

Herakles huffed, "Look," he walked forward, "I don't want to kill you right now; monster dust gets everywhere, and I spent an hour getting my done." He stood toe to toe with the monster, smirk still on his face, "So do us both a favor, leave."

The cyclops growled, but surprisingly, stood his ground.

Herakles's smirk dropped from his face, and with a sigh, he took a couple steps back, squaring his shoulders. The cyclops, to his credit, brought up his hands in turn.

Only, the action caused the monster's coat to shift, revealing a glinting symbol hidden in the folds. Curious, Herakles darted forward, shoving the cyclops against the wall and fishing out the symbol. He then stumbled back as, now in proper view, the symbol was shown to be a silver trident.

Herakles's mind was reeling. Why would one of Poseidon's lieutenants be in New York—correction, stalking a woman through the streets of New York? "Further correction", his eyes widened in horror, breath catching in his throat, "a woman and her child."

Slowly, Herakles handed to pendant back to the cyclops. He gulped, "Tell my Uncle that…that I would like to speak with him."

The cyclops growled, shifting his eye between Herakles and the building the woman and her child lived in.

Herakles sneered, "I swear upon the Styx, I shall bring no harm either of them," the night sky rumbled overhead, "Now, tell my Uncle that I would like to talk, in three days' time, on the coast of Ibiza."

The cyclops blinked slowly, but uttered a small vow himself, slinking away as the sky thundered once more.

Herakles let the monster pass without any further trouble, instead leaning against a wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. With a huff, he leapt high into the air, landing on a rooftop. Laying low, coalescing the Mist around him, he peered into the apartments windows, trying to find the woman and her son. He searched for several moments, eventually finding the woman and boy in a kitchen; she, cleaning a few dishes, he, calmly munching on a cookie.

Herakles grimaced as he took note of the boy's features, the family nose being the especially prominent. And then he turned towards the window, revealing a pair of sea green irises. Herakles cursed that fact; it'd be almost impossible to hide the boy's heritage.

Just then, the boy's mother stepped in front of the window, fearfully peering outside. Herakles wondered what she was looking for, until he realized that she was staring at him.

Line Break

Sally froze as she caught sight of…something lying on the rooftop across the street. When it shifted, she immediately shut the blinds.

"Mommy?"

Plastering a soft smile on her face, Sally turned to face her son. She walked forward, playfully rubbing his head, "It's nothing Percy," she soothingly cooed, "Just looks like it might rain."

Her heart melted as his lower lip jutted out, a sad gleam in his green eyes, "Does that mean we can't go to the cabin?"

Sally leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead, "We'll see sweetie. But for now, you need to get ready for bed."

Percy groaned lightly, but at her playful glare he got up from his seat and slowly trudged to his room.

Sally let out a shaky breath, slowly turning her head towards the fridge. She walked forward, grabbing a business card attached near the top. 'Brooklynn's Monster Megamart—Gabe Ugilano: General Manager' it read. On the back, a hastily, messily written phone number.

Sally shivered, remembering that…man's gaze on her. But that was the fifth monster this week, and Percy needed protection.

She gripped the card tightly; it was all for Percy.

A/N: So, I couldn't help but notice that, for the most part, the PJO fandom (and Rick Riordan) have a massive hate-boner for Herakles/Hercules. Which, as an amateur Mythology buff, was always a little irksome. But hey, to each their own. Be sure to leave a review. Later.