Annabeth tapped her pen against her living room table, before biting her lip.

The photos of the crime scenes laid out in front of her in order by date, but still nothing made sense.

Each victim had a different job: mechanic, florist, IT analyst, and finally an FBI agent.

Each victim even looked completely different from one another.

She grimaced at the last photo. The latest victim, Special Agent Grover Underwood, had been hung up from the rafters in his house, with the Omega symbol carved into his pale flesh.

It had happened antemortem, meaning it most likely happened before he had been killed.

He had been tortured.

And just that fact alone, made Annabeth want to find the bastard that did this.

She may not have known Special Agent Underwood personally, but she had heard amazing things about him and his partner.

Her mind drifted to what waited in store for them tomorrow.

But more specifically: Percy Jackson.

She released a frustrated huff, trying to get herself to stop thinking about her new annoying and bad-tempered partner.

Though, she couldn't deny that he wasn't attractive.

Even his voice: a low husky note with a hint of a New York accent, was undoubtedly hot.

Especially when he was angry.

Get it together, Annabeth. Focus on the case.

Shaking her head, she glanced at the time, before stuffing the photos back in the folder.

The killer seems to pick his victims at random. But there has to be a pattern. There's always a pattern.

Four murders and counting.

The first: a woman in her twenties with dark hair and a mechanic job at the local Winchester Auto Shop. She had been married with a son.

The second: a man in his late fifties, working as a florist. He was a widower, who's wife had died 2 years prior. He had no children.

The third: a man in his mid thirties, blond hair and blue eyes, worked at Hewlett Packard, as an IT analyst. He was recently divorced.

And finally...Grover Underwood. A man in his thirties, happily married, and working as an FBI agent. Apparently he was found dead by his last partner.

Annabeth's eyes skimmed the police report.

Found hanging off rafters...flesh carved into with unidentified sharp object...found by...

Wait a second...

Annabeth looked closer at the scrawled writing and drew in a sharp breath.

Found by Special Agent Perseus Jackson.

She sat there for a while, staring at the piece of paper clutched in her hands.

That meant that Percy was Grover's last partner.

And I had acted horribly to him...right after his partner died. I even told him to resign...

Annabeth groaned, rubbing her temple with her fingertips in a circular motion.

Gathering the papers back in the folder, she stood up and stretched her arms over her head.

If I'm going to have to apologize to him tomorrow, I'm gonna need as much sleep as I can get.


She waited patiently for Percy to show up at the airport, her ticket in hand and a frown on her face.

When she glanced down the large aisle, she noticed Percy striding towards to where she was standing, though he hadn't yet spotted her.

And he was wearing a suit.

His biceps bulged with strength underneath his white button down and his taunt forearms showed with his sleeves rolled up.

He carried two duffel bags and a beat up leather satchel, the strap firmly set across his chest. His jacket was underneath one arm.

Percy glanced around the surrounding area before he spotted her and made his way over.

She could've sworn, all the women in a half mile radius swooned and began humming Sharp Dressed Man.

At least, Annabeth was pretty sure the teenage girls next to her began to sing it softly, giggling to one another.

With a loud thud, Percy dropped one of the duffel bags and adjusted his black tie.

He seemed frustrated as he completely untied his tie before letting it hang there underneath his collar.

A long breath escaped through his nose as he picked up one end of the black silk and glared at it.

"Here, let me."

Annabeth stepped forward, into Percy's personal space and grasped both ends of the tie.

Percy stayed completely still as she quickly and easily tied a Four-In-Hand knot, one she learned from her dad, before she held the narrow end and slid the front knot up to tighten it.

"There. Good as new." Annabeth gazed up at her partner before adding in clipped voice, "I knew you'd be late."

His jaw set, like he was clenching his teeth.

Percy didn't even bother to reply, just went to check his bags and gather his ticket before they fell in step to make their way to security.

She kept her same impression of him that she had yesterday: he was an asshole with a short-temper and an attitude.

An asshole who just lost his partner.

Annabeth stared at him through the corner of her eye.

He was clean-shaven now, black hair unruly, and he was currently glaring forward as they made their way through the crowd.

The look on his face could've easily rivaled a wolf's: fierce and threateningly, as if saying, Don't screw with me, I've had it worse.

She wondered about his background and how exactly he got to become an FBI agent.

"What do you want?"

Annabeth jerked her head, startled by his voice.

He was staring at her now, his green eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his lips set in a firm line.

"Nothing." She whipped her head forward and felt her lips curve into a scowl.

Why she was in charge of holding Percy Jackson's leash, she could scarcely fathom it.

Maybe because he's clearly unstable and insane? But does that give him reason to act like an asshole?

They flashed their identification to security and then were subject to a brief check.

Soon, after they reached their gate, Percy turned to her and said, his voice a low rumble, "Listen. I don't want to do this anymore than you do, but it seems like we're stuck here together."

By seems like, it looked like Percy had asked for a new partner and been rejected.

Annabeth hiked her bag further up her shoulder and nodded her head.

Sensing she wasn't in the mood to chat, by her expression and her continued silence, Percy settled down in an empty chair to wait for their plane to arrive.

She sat several seats away from him and fiddled with her cell phone, in an attempt to look busy.

It took a few minutes for the plane to arrive, but when it finally did, Annabeth felt herself tense.

An hour and a fifty-eight minute plane ride with her new partner wasn't something she looked forward too.

But as soon as they were aboard the plane and settled in their seats, Percy popped open a bottle of aspirin and swallowed a pill before laying his head back and releasing a sigh.

"Don't like planes?" Annabeth heard herself say, surprised that her voice almost sounded teasing.

"Hate them. Planes crash."

Snorting loudly, she remarked, "Do you know the chance of a plane actually crashing? It's one to eleven million."

"Whatever, Whiz Kid. Doesn't make me feel any better." He then closed his eyes as the flight attendants began to make rounds, making sure all the top compartments were latched.

"How old are you anyways?" Annabeth asked, genuinely curious.

"How old are you?" Percy countered.

"I just turned twenty-five a few weeks ago."

Peeling his eyes open, Percy squinted at her and muttered, "Jesus."

"Why? How old are you?"

"Thirty."

"Really?" Surprise filtered through her voice and she continued, "You certainly don't look it. How long have you worked here? For the FBI I mean?"

"Long enough."

She frowned slightly at the tone of his voice. All of the snarkiness had disappeared from his voice and was replaced by exhaustion.

She felt a stirring in her stomach, a unfamiliar feeling rising up in her bones.

Pity.

Annabeth watched as the flight attendant did the safety demonstration before she buckled her own seat belt and leaned back slightly.

As soon as the plane's engine roared to life, she saw Percy's hand grasp the arm rest. His long nimble fingers curled over the edge of the hard plastic and his knuckles turned white.

"Relax. It'll be over soon. It's only a two-hour flight."

"Yeah, two hours of me trying not to throw up."

Raising her hand in the air, she muttered, "Too much, Jackson. Too much."

His lips twisted up in a smirk.

An infuriating smirk with two dimples on the right cheek and my god Annabeth, stop looking at him.

She rolled her eyes before swiveling her head towards the aisle.

When the plane started rolling forward, her partner released a quiet groan.

Yep...this was gonna be a long plane ride.