A/N: Hey there again, guys. As promised, I updated this story within two weeks (instead of you guys waiting for a grueling month). I am really glad from all the feedback I've received from the last chapter. Thank you for the support you've given me.

Many of you were wondering about what would happen next ever since that dracaena accident and I'm happy to propose that this chapter would fill in you with details, although I am leaving out a decent amount of it for the following chapters. And this chapter, well, I felt really uncomfortable writing this one down. Had to read about five to six books with fluff in them. You'll know what I'm talking about later.

Special thanks to:

storyteller1425 - Thank you for the remarkable - as always - beta reading. I hope I am not inexplicably putting you in a hard place and eating up your time in writing and updating. I can be unbearable, sometimes.

Enjoy!


The Quest For The Cestus Apple

Chapter 4: No Holds Barred


"Love withers with predictability; its very essence is surprise and amazement. To make love a prisoner of the mundane is to take its passion and lose it forever." ~ Leo F. Buscaglia


Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, wouldn't let anyone stand in his way. He battled the minotaur when he was twelve, he survived every single wrath of the angry gods, he fought a Titan Lord and survived a death prophecy when he turned sixteen, he 'water-traveled' and fought a dracaena in France, and ultimately, he saved the world.

But all powerful and almost invincible Percy Jackson was not capable of outwitting a smart-mouthed, quick-tempered middle-aged French clerk of a hotel.

"I am sorry sir," the strawberry-blond woman said, not feeling sorry at all. "But this is the only room left for guests. As you can see in the log book, almost every installment is full and only if you have had ordered reservations – "

"I want a room with two, separate beds," Percy gritted through his teeth. "This is a hotel, for gods' sake! Can't you take another bed from a storage room or something and get it up to our room?"

"I am sorry, sir, again," she clipped her tongue, her accent heavily dripped of French and Latin. "But as you may know, today is, as of many days, in the tourist season. You are lucky – "

"Lucky?"

"Indeed you, young sir, are very lucky that one hotel out of many others still has a vacancy for you. Now, if you please, you are disturbing other guests with your… outburst. If you are not happy with the services offered in here, it would be more appropriate for you if you would take reconsideration in venue. There's a holiday inn down eight blocks away. I am not sure if they are still open for vacancies for, as I have told you, today is the holiday season. But if you do want to stay," she made a discreet sneer and opened her palm to reveal two duplicate keys. "Room 792, seventh floor."

Percy opened his mouth to argue, but Annabeth stopped him. Her sad eyes met with his as she spoke. "It's okay, Percy. I can sleep on the couch if you'd like."

Percy's green eyes widened. "No!" A few bystanders looked at the two American teenagers strangely. "You won't sleep on the couch," he muttered. "I will, if that's the case." He glared at the smiling woman who handed them the keys smugly.

"Enjoy your stay," the woman chirped with her French-Latin accent.

Stupid French hotel personnel, Percy thought. He and Annabeth might as well have served better in a holiday inn than receive shitty service this hotel was offering. They charged $245 a night and they insisted on giving two, tired and emotionally constrained teenagers a room with only one bed? There went Percy's $ 4,000 dream car fund. So much for quality service.

Percy and Annabeth took their small luggage and headed towards the elevator (lift in some European places). He punched in the number seven as they entered. The sliding door made a light ding and the doors closed, the elevator lifting them up onto the seventh floor.

Percy noticed that Annabeth was awkwardly quiet and busied with her own thoughts ever since that dracaena accident. So it surprised him when she uttered and broke the silence.

"How long is it going to last?" she asked, her voice a dead monotone.

Her brilliantly-concealed heartbroken voice made Percy sad all over again. He knew what she was talking about. "I don't know," he sighed.

Annabeth just nodded in that dead way of hers before the elevators doors opened again and a new batch of passengers entered.

They stayed silent for the rest of the trip.


Percy ran his hand through his wet, black hair and dabbed it with a towel. He took in the sight of his slightly torn and charred pants and grimaced. It was the only expensive $72 pants he had, and just one crazed up monster from Paris destroyed it. He thought of invulnerability being passed on to clothes and if it was possible.

He threw his pants near the edge of the bed and the packed bags before slipping on a fresh shirt. He hovered at the space for a moment before flopping on to the couch. The sound of the loud trickling of shower water indicated that Annabeth was still in the bathroom. He noticed that Annabeth took long showers, especially when she was stressed. And boy was she stressed today.

"Annabeth?" Percy called. "Are you okay in there?"

No answer.

Okay, fine, Percy thought venomously. They'd keep up the silent treatment if she wanted to.

Five minutes passed as Percy glanced at his water-resistant watch. The sound of continuous, trickling water and the low howl of the wind made Percy feel depressed. If he could get them to Lemnos and cure Annabeth, given that they could get out of Paris later, then what? What would happen then? Would Annabeth remember their little spat a few hours ago? Would they still be friends? Would they be enemies?

Percy thought about what Chiron said. About how much this trip would change everything between them, and Percy sighed internally. Without his consent or hers, everything turned complicated.

It wasn't that Annabeth wasn't a great girl. She proved to be the best person to be with; both in combat and in 'normal' demigod times. She was nice, though she numerously ticked the balance in his sanity. She was smart. Too smart sometimes. She was fiercely loyal. She would never compromise her beliefs for anything, even if it got her in trouble. The thought of Annabeth jutting out her stubborn jaw and glowering at the Sphinx and at Hera, the queen of the gods, made Percy smile. She was also fairly attractive. No. Not just fairly. Very. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she thought of something brilliant, whenever her smile turned mischievous when she taunted him, the way her hair spun madly whenever she fought or ran, the way their hands would brush each other, sending spurges of tingles on his skin, on the small of his back…

"Annabeth?" Percy decided to call again. He wouldn't let his thoughts stray towards that minimum end. Annabeth's your friend, dammit! He wasn't ready.

Still no answer.

Percy mustered up his courage and tried again. "I know you're still mad at me." His voice bounced across the room. The shower was still on. Still no response from her. "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to help the both of us," his voice wavered.

"You know this isn't right. I'm not really sure what would happen next. I'm not sure if everything would turn out fine in the end… But you always wanted to do the right thing," he smiled to himself. "You always do." Annabeth was still Annabeth, no matter what happened.

His gut clenched again and his instincts knew that something was terribly wrong. He sprang up and headed towards the bathroom door. He knocked. "Everything okay in there, Annabeth?"

When all the sound coming out from the room was the heavy sound of pittering pattering water, Percy's heart fluttered. He knocked even louder. "Annabeth? Are you okay in there?"

No answer. He knocked, aggravated this time. "Open the door, Annabeth."

The banging of the door echoed. "I'm coming in Annabeth. Please open the door." When she still did not respond, Percy settled for going to the doorknob. He twisted the knob. Locked. He pulled even harder. He pounded his palm on the wooden door. "Open up! Open up, Annabeth!"

He looked around frantically and saw a small bronze glint poking out of the sheets. Percy ran to the bed and grabbed the hilt of Annabeth's bronze dagger. He would have to explain to the hotel personnel about a broken, hacked doorknob but that seemed like a minor problem. He poked the tip of the knife and twisted it. It took a few tries before the knob unlocked and the door swung open. He prayed a small thank you prayer to Hermes before he shoved the knife inside his pocket with Riptide. Percy stepped in and he half hoped that he wasn't going to see an angry blonde naked in an unreasonably priced hotel bathroom.

"Annabeth?" Percy said. A part of his brain knew she wouldn't answer. He swung the wet shower curtains to the right.

Empty.

He cursed and turned off the shower. He looked around the bathroom, though there wasn't much space for Annabeth to hide. The medicine cabinet was opened slightly. The hamper was filled with their discarded clothing. The cold wind shot piercingly through his mostly invulnerable skin. He rubbed the goose bumps forming and frowned at the opened bathroom window.

Opened bathroom window.

He dashed to the window and looked down. It was a fire exit, with stairs leading down directly towards the ground. He barreled and thought about Annabeth. This wasn't good. From their experience, monsters could have been having their lovapalooza near the Eiffel Tower or some trendy boutique, and Annabeth's demigod scent could easily lead them towards dinner.

Dammit.

He ran as fast as he could, not even bothering to check out of the lobby. His only thought: find Annabeth.


As he ran to vicious-looking bystanders in a dark alley, he was glad he wasn't mugged. Rachel's $500 loan and his measly $60 bills were hot in his wallet as he strode along. The waning crescent of the moon was nothing compared to the blindingly bright lights of the sidewalks. It made the creaks on the streets look dazzling in the night. But Percy hardly paid any attention to the glowing pavement.

It might have been a few minutes, or hours, since he'd been out looking for Annabeth. He didn't even dare glance down on his watch, fearing that if he did, he would lose the sight of a blond girl smiling across the street.

It was driving him crazy. Where the hell was she?

So it was just his craziness giving him his crazy luck as a voice boomed a few yards away from him. Percy whirled around, startled. A man whose face was harshly illuminated by the yellow lights appeared. The wrinkles on his face where prominent, his cheekbones deep and sunken. The man's cheekbones deepened as he smiled and talked to Percy.

"Eh. Yer! Yer the on' wiz dat 'merican girl," the man said. Percy's stomach did a humiliating flip-flop. He knew where Annabeth was!

"Yes," Percy stated. "Do you know where she is?"

"Oi," he nodded. "Young missus' wit' dose drunk birmen down the strit. It's juz a few blocks away, me lad. Tuk off wiz dem. Luk fer Les Piétons. Cant miz dat, can yer? Aniwhooo, off yer go now." The man clutched on his coat heavily, leaving Percy stuttering his thanks.

Now having a new lead, Percy darted across the intersection where the French man pointed him to. What was the pub's name again? Les Pistons? Les Pieltons? Too late to turn back now as he charged after every single store with dazzling lights like Las Vegas. He stubbed his toe on a crevice and let out a colorful spill of curses.

A big navy blue sign haunted in his eyes.

Les Piétons.

He slid the door open and heard the chimes of the bells as he walked in.

"Annabeth?"

A pudgy old man swung his beer glass wildly and laughed at some unheard joke and spilled a few of his drink on another man's pants. The man bellowed in laughter and made a guttural animal sound as he pounded his fists on the round, wooden table. A red-haired boy, looking not beyond his twenties was in a puddle of liquor. His hair was sticking out in all directions and it looked even messier as he laughed his head off. A big, black-eyed man choked with laughter, his neck not visible. He tapped on the flab of his tummy, and Percy's eyes drifted towards the girl beside him.

Annabeth smiled groggily. "Hey, Percy! It's Percy! Come 'ver 'er Percy!"

Percy went towards her angrily. He stared at her beer glass, and then at her disbelievingly. "What the heck are you doing, Annabeth?"

The blonde girl took a huge gulp of her beer before turning her eyes to him. Her pupils were even more dilated. "Wat duz it luk like I'm doin?"

"It's late in the night. You ran off without telling me. You shouldn't be drinking, Annabeth," Percy frowned at the sight of two empty beer bottles. "And I must say, your alcohol tolerance is horrifying."

"I can do wat I wan' to, Jackzun," she said with her mouth full of beer. She made a gurgling noise on her throat before continuing. "I'm eighteen. I'm not… breaking any rules."

Percy made another grab on Annabeth's arm when the red-head stopped him.

"Don't tell the missus what to do," he made a strangling noise and flapped his hands at the younger boy.

The pudgy man banged his own glass at the table. "Yeah. What he said."

Annabeth only laughed and pulled her hair away from her face. "It's okay, guys. Percy meet Andrei, Louis and Marcus. And yes, they can speak English. Well, Andrei's Irish. And Andrei, Louis, Marcus… this is Percy Jackson."

"Ah. And what is your relation to Ms. Chase, Mr. Jackson?" the red-head, Andrei made a mocking surly expression on his face.

Annabeth said "ex-boyfriend" as Percy said "best friend" in response. The three men roared in laughter.

"Teenagers and their messy break-ups, eh?" Marcus shook his head, amused. He chugged down another glass of foam.

"She's not my ex!" Percy exclaimed.

Mr. Louis-pudgy-man wagged his finger warningly at Percy. He jerked his head at Annabeth, who drank another full glass of brown beer. "I believe the lass. We know men. We are men," a drop dripped from the side of his mouth and Percy noted the heavily hinted accent. He gave Percy an appraising look. "And you seem to be a fine-looking man. A fine heartbreaker in the ladies' case."

He snorted. "I'm not her boyfriend." He glared at the not-anymore-sober Annabeth. "And you're coming with me."

She shook her light head. "No, no. I'm staying."

The smell of rancid men and liquor made Percy's eyes water. He shook angrily and lowered his head. "I have been looking for you for half an hour, for ten hours or whoever in Tartarus cares to count how many hours I've been searching for you in this gods forsaken place. I am tired, mentally exhausted, not to mention emotionally depleted. So please, please, pull yourself together and let's head home, because I am not really in the brightest mood right now to be dealing with wasted girls."

Percy realized how wrong he sounded when Andrei-the-Irish-man stood forcefully from his seat, towering Percy from five foot ten to six foot two.

He snarled. "Ey! Nobody talks to a lady like that! I'll kick your arse if ye have to – "

"Come on, guys. Chillax," Annabeth slurred and stood up. Her feet got caught up with the wooden posts of the table, and she clung on Andrei for support. She chuckled good-naturedly. Percy glared at Andrei vehemently, not wanting a single inch of Annabenth's skin to be lingering with his.

Not noticing the tension, Annabeth laughed again and swung her left arm on the crook of Percy's neck. They both staggered until Percy balanced them. Her grey eyes met his green ones, and she smiled faintly.

"I've always liked your eyes," Annabeth said dreamily, her glass spilling a few of its contents.

Percy blinked back.

Her smile grew wider. "I just feel like I could… drown in them. Like… what I'm doing now! Wallowing in misery and rejection," she half-finished her beer and raised it up above her head. "Am I right guys?"

A burst of hoots and cheers followed.

"Well, here ye! Here ye! Can I have your attention please? As you all know, I am here having a nice drink with a couple of strangers in France. To tell you the truth, this is my first. And I'm having a heck of a great time!" she whooped as cheers erupted.

"Now this guy," she jerked her thumb towards confused Percy. "Pardon me for all matter of distaste, but I want all of you to know that this person standing before me, who I thought I was desperately and madly in love with, dumped me today. In Paris, of all places."

A couple of 'aww's and 'boo's' and curses were shouted.

Percy wished he could suddenly disintegrate on the spot. He was being blamed for a non-existent break up in a non-existent relationship. "Look Annabeth – "

"He keeps on telling me bullshit about some sickness that kept me feeling all deluded and making me act like a lunatic, but still that doesn't mean some idiot could tell me what I should feel, right?"

Yells of assent made the walls shake.

Percy, red-faced even in the colorful lights of the bar, tried to speak up, but Annabeth interrupted him. "Never ever in my entire life have I been so wasted and shitted on. I can zone on and on and on, and I doubt all of you can understand what the hell I am saying, but I don't think that's the case."

"Annabeth," Percy pleaded. "We need to get you back to the hotel –"

"And then what?" she shot back angrily. "What will you do? Tell me that I will never be right for you? Lecture me about how crazy I am and for acting like such a slut?"

"Ei!" a random man with a tequila shouted from the far side of the room. "You called her a slut?"

"No! I never told her that," Percy quipped. He turned to Annabeth. "I never told you that and I never will! I was just trying to – "

"What? To protect me?" Annabeth's face was mocking and almost hysterical. "That's like one of the most overused phrase in the world. I'm no damsel, Percy."

She turned to the crowd. "Who can ever tell you what's supposed to be understood?"

"No one!" half of the crowd yells.

"Who can ever have the right to trample all over your feelings and throw it in a mush pit?"

"No one!"

"He says that he never loved me, but that doesn't mean I can't love him, can I?"

More growls of assent. Marcus was giving Annabeth a thumbs-up. Andrei was laughing wildly now as he toasted with a nearby drinker, both of them knocking out a chair in the process. They were all roaring in delight in equal sympathy to the girl whose love was unreciprocated.

She slowly turned to him, her gray eyes dancing beneath the limelight, though it was sad. "You, of all people, should know things about love. You've been exposed to it much more than I ever had," her voice turned wistful. "And I've always thought you were different."

Percy's heart made a loud bang on his chest at her words. Was he really going to be just like those other guys – heartbreakers? Players? Guys who never acknowledged women as equals but just playmates in bed? It was true that he had been spoiled by love more than every demigod he knew. But he was only seventeen (turning eighteen by the end of the summer) years old! By the gods! Aphrodite should give him a break!

He figured the smell of liquor completely meddled with his perspective as he said, "I do like you, Annabeth. I'm not entirely sure if it is strong enough – "

"Oh, yeah?" Louis guffawed. "Prove it, boy!"

Almost everyone in the bar yelled in assent.

"Prove it!"

"Prove it!"

"Prove it!"

"Yeah, Percy. Prove it." She smirked of course, knowing for a fact that Percy would never have the answer coming out from his mouth. Percy Jackson was never one to answer difficult things with words.

But he did answer with actions.

Percy planned it to be a short and quick chap on the lips. Nothing major. Nothing that would make him regret anything. He wouldn't have done it in the first place. Probably the continuous ranting of drunken men must have clouded up his brain a little bit. But once his lips touched hers, he instantly knew he was done for.

Yes, Annabeth kissed him. Once. When she thought that he was going to die in Mount Saint Helens back when they were fifteen. But it seemed like a long time ago. It wasn't anything like it was now.

Annabeth's soft and slightly chapped lips mingled with his for a moment, and he felt his face, his entire body blaze. His mouth moaned in anticipation as Annabeth responded to him, the distance between them became an inch to a centimeter to none. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization. He could taste her… and the slight bitter aftertaste of alcohol. He could feel his fingers tangle with the loose curls in Annabeth's blond hair and he heard a loud clash as Annabeth's beer glass met the floor. A small warning bid Percy to stop and to check if Annabeth was hurt, but then all thoughts were pushed back as he felt Annabeth's hand flew towards the small of his back.

Memories started flooding back to him.

He could feel every single eye on the two flagrant couple making out near the doorway, and he heard distant cheers from the crowd. Percy was super aware, his senses leaping to a full height as he pulled Annabeth closer, deepening the kiss.

They gasped for air for a second and then their lips attached again, both yearning for contact. Her warm breath washed over him, clouding his ability to think about anything besides her. Percy was embarrassed that he was showing his male animalistic side in front of many people, in a foreign country, he might add, but he was still concentrating on how he felt elated that he was holding Annabeth in his arms right now.

A small moan that escaped her lips made Percy shiver with unknown emotion. He pulled her closer. He thought he was rubbing himself too much on her as he aggressively grabbed Annabeth's waist.

And then something hit him hard.

He was taking advantage of Annabeth, who was drunk and could hardly think for herself. He shouldn't have been physically engaging with her while she was in a different, delicate state. To be fair, they were both drunk. They both needed to think straight.

Percy tried to gather himself before separating with a long, fervent kiss. He pulled away and saw Annabeth's misty eyes first. His eyes travel down to her lips, red and obviously had been in contact with something that had been sucking the life out of it.

Percy's cheeks turned maroon.

He took a furtive glance towards the drinkers. Some were stupefied, others were giving nods. Most of them were laughing hysterically as they toasted with one another, knocking themselves off the chairs. Others were smirking, as if two hormonal teenagers just brought justice to the concept of a French kiss.

Even the bartenders cracked up when Annabeth fainted.

Percy made an infernal groan. Annabeth's alcoholic and make-out tolerance was really disappointing.

"You must be a good kisser, laddy," Andrei smirked and made kissy faces, disfigured as his face could be while drunk. "Making her faint, and all."

"Oi! Can I have a smack, too?"

The whole bar shook with laughter.

"Get her home safely, lover boy," Marcus bellowed and toasted his martini. "And remember. No detours!"


Laying her somewhat fragile head, he settled her unconscious figure on the bed. He pulled out the sheets and softly laid it on top of her. He assessed the sleeping blonde for a while before passing out on the couch. Gods, she was heavy. And it wasn't an insult.

As he watched her small intake of breathing, he found himself replaying the kiss in his head all over again. He grimaced, disgusted. That was stupid. He was acting… and thinking like any other hormonal guy who had his first kiss. His first kiss wasn't in a less than romantic bar in France. But his first was spent in blown-up volcano with a girl with a pair of intimidating gray eyes. Gray eyes that had obstructed his vision for weeks, months, maybe even years.

He wasn't sure how he should have reacted in all this. Forget all about it and move on? It sounded like he just had a one night stand with a hooker. Tell her it wasn't a big deal? No way. Could he actually break her heart twice? Or should he confess his unconventional love for her? Nah. He still hadn't figured out his set of emotions about her and he didn't have the guts to spill either.

Then what now?

He thought about Annabeth's lips on his and how it physically, mentally and emotionally provoked him. How it broke all of the dams he'd been holding up for so long. Or at least he felt like it had been clogged up for years and given time.

Percy chuckled. It was psychotic; how a simple and maybe passionate kiss could awaken a man's internal desires… wait. Ew. Rephrase that. How a passionate kiss could completely give unresolved feelings with another.

People were certainly not exaggerating about couples sharing a kiss in Paris.

She'd been upset for too long. Though he felt it was morbid to say so, but deep inside his sea-clogged brain, he felt happy that for a long time, Annabeth had been feeling something, nevertheless how fake it is. They connected even for a time being. And he was genuinely happy that they were spending time together even if it was at one's expense. He thought about making her happy. He wanted to see those gray eyes shine every day. He was not sure why, but it left a pathetic flutter in his stomach. And he was too prideful to admit that he liked it.

He was screwed up. And he knew it. His wish to the gods should have been to stop them from meddling with mortal affairs, even with something as primal as love. Stupid Aphrodite or whichever deities were behind it all.

There was no reason for him to dislike Annabeth. Annabeth was pretty much likeable in every way in Percy's mindset. But attraction was a different matter. Love was somewhat… too strong. A large part of his brain knew that Annabeth wasn't acting like this wholly because of love. She was acting like this because she didn't know what she was doing; she was being manipulated by a spell, an apple. Annabeth would never, in her straight mind, walk into a bar and profess her undying declaration of love to him. That was crazy. And a daughter of Athena falling for a son of Poseidon was just as crazy.

The thought hurt him much more than the acid from the River Styx.

What if somehow Annabeth would walk into a bar and profess her undying love for him? Though the probability of it happening was as much as the possibility of a three hundred ton meteorite falling from the sky and knocking him out cold, what would he do? Ignore her? Or tell her he felt the same way?

Percy shook his head and stood up. He laughed in spite of himself. Damn. He was acting like he was the drunk one.

He chuckled again and laid himself next to her. His fingers twirl awkwardly with her hair (it was his first time to do that) as he pulled it back to see her face once again. Unlike him, she didn't drool, and he internally laughed at that. Her glorious face and complex personality was a pale comparison with his lack of looks and shallow persona. Tonight she pulled on a serene, angelic face. Tomorrow, Percy would have to face the flashes of hurt that would be surely seen on her brow. Percy wasn't sure if he could handle that, but for now, all that mattered to him was that he was now reminiscing a happy thing, no matter how short lived, completely taken with the girl lying beside him.


A/N: Okay. I hope my description of their kiss wasn't that far off. I was blushing like crazy when I reread it because this was my first time writing those two kiss. Had to do a lot of research. I read about people kissing. I watched people kissing (sounds perverted, I know) . I didn't even look away when two college kids kept on gnawing on each other on the bus. I hope that was enough. Didn't want to make it look like Percy and Annabeth were eating each others face off.

Thanks to all those who reviewed 'My December' and 'Of Cuts And Pills.' I'm having a hard time replying to you all between updating my other stories, studying for the upcoming semester and trying to blog (Yeah, I just started. Link's on my profile), but I want you guys to know that I appreciate them always. When I have time, I'll try to reply.

Two more chapters to go plus an acknowledgment to all those who followed, added this to their favorites and alerts, and gave their opinions.

Thank you for the support, guys! Please review! Flames are accepted!

P.S. - At the age of sixteen, the boozers are allowed to booze in Paris. So yeah. Annabeth's not in trouble.