A/N: Fluff warning. Endless magical Christmas fluff. SO MUCH FLUFF! I hope you enjoy!
Annabeth Chase is stuck in tinsel. It didn't happen on purpose and she's not sure when it happened, but she is stuck in tinsel and has some pine needles wrapped up in her hair and she has no idea how to get out.
She yells for Percy one or two more times, but it seems like he probably fell asleep again. The dummy.
She checks the tree to make sure it's still standing and that she hasn't knocked it over – it is – but in turning her head, her hair wove itself into the tinsel, and she was now face first into the tree, unable to move.
"Oh, for the love of Athena," Annabeth grumbles. She pushes some of the tinsel off of her hands and wiggles her arms up far enough to move her hair. She mutters and grumbles as she pushes it away, and, eventually, part of it is unleashed. That, of course, is when Sally Jackson walks into her living room.
"Annabeth?" she exclaims. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but what are you doing next to my Christmas tree in my living room?"
Annabeth sighs and turns so she's facing Sally, praying nothing gets knocked over in the process. "Percy and I planned on decorating your tree for you," she says, "and it was supposed to be a surprise. But I think Percy got really distracted and fell asleep in his room when he went to get more ornaments from the attic."
"Have you been stuck here for a while, sweetie?" Sally asks her, and without much hesitation steps over to Annabeth and begins working at her hair. "Oh, dear, you really are stuck." She begins working on Annabeth's hair, pulling at the tinsel and tree branches gently.
"Thanks," says Annabeth, "thanks a lot, Mrs. Jackson."
"Annabeth, my dear, call my Sally."
Annabeth can't help but smile. "Thanks, Sally."
After a few moments and Sally only pulling her hair twice, Annabeth is freed from the malicious holiday decorations. "Now," says Sally. "To the second most important thing. Where did that son of mine go?"
They venture into Percy's bedroom, where he is flat on his stomach, snoring. Annabeth laughs a little. Ever since the Giant War was over, ever since Tartarus, it's like the two of them couldn't get enough sleep. They'd been running for years – sometimes just stopping was what they needed, no matter the homework that needed to be done or the trees that needed to be decorated.
"He's drooling," comments Annabeth.
"He's done that since he was a baby," says Sally, and Annabeth turns to see her leaning against the door frame and giving her son a smile that Annabeth's only seen her dad give her a few times. It pulls at her heart.
"Annabeth," says Sally, "you know you're always welcome here, right?"
Annabeth starts a little at the comment. "R-right," she says nodding. "Of course."
"I mean it," says Sally, and she wraps Annabeth in a hug so maternal it feels wrong for a moment before it feels right. "You're family, sweetheart. I want you to feel like this is your home too. I want you to have someplace safe when you're not at camp, somewhere else you can call home."
Annabeth lets herself hug Sally back, resting her chin on her shoulder, and they stay that way, until Percy calls from the bed, "Hey, no hogging my mom! And no hogging my girlfriend!"
"Oh, calm down, Percy, and wipe the drool off your face," says Sally. She moves apart from Ananbeth. "We were having some girl time while you were having some nap time."
"I wasn't napping," Percy says defiantly, "I was – I was – I was. I was napping."
"We know," say Annabeth and Sally together, and that's when Annabeth realizes that the two of them are giving Percy the same look, standing the same way, and folding their arms just alike.
"Let's get that tree done," laughs Sally, "before anyone else passes out or gets stuck in tinsel."
Percy's eyes light up. "You got stuck in tinsel?!" he exclaims. "Oh, Mom, please tell me you got pictures of that."
"I did not take pictures of your girlfriend getting stuck in our Christmas tree!" Sally replies.
"You should have," grumbles Percy, "that's something I would have liked to see."
Sally walks ahead of them, leaving Percy and Annabeth in the hall before making their way into the living room.
"There's still some of that tinsel in your hair, though," says Percy, threading his fingertips through her hair, brushing his thumb against Annabeth's jawline, "oh, look, there's some over here," he kisses at her temple, "and over here," he kisses at her forehead.
"There isn't any tinsel on my lips, but you can head there next, if you'd like," says Annabeth. "On second thought, I've got that covered." She stands on her tip toes and kisses him firmly, and as Percy's arms hold her close, she starts to think that, maybe, just maybe, this will be the best Christmas that a polytheistic child of a Greek goddess who has fought countless mythological morons will ever have.