"Where on Earth..." Annabeth muttered to herself, rooting under the bed in the hotel room for the nine hundredth time. She hadn't left the room since she'd been reading the Rome guide book last night, but for the life of her, she couldn't find it anywhere. It was almost eight AM, which meant Poseidon would be here any minute, and she'd been hoping to be ready to go on time this morning. She'd already switched her usual morning shower for a quick late-night shower instead. Time was a particularly fluid concept for the gods. So if Poseidon said "eight o'clock," and you were in the shower at seven, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be walking in on you. Once was more than enough to be showering in front of your boyfriend's dad, thank you very much.

It wouldn't have been a problem, Annabeth grumbled to herself, if he ever showed up anywhere but the bathroom. He'd given her some explanation about being attracted to the plumbing in the walls, but she'd been unimpressed. She'd known Percy for too long. It was clear his love of toilet humor was inherited.

Wait! The bathroom! Annabeth hadn't checked there yet. Maybe she'd brought the guide book in as light reading at some point? She'd been running on so few hours of sleep the past few nights that she could easily have spaced out on it...

She jerked open the bathroom door and immediately shrieked.

"Aren't you supposed to knock first?" asked Poseidon, curled up on the toilet and idly flipping through the pages of something that looked suspiciously like her guide book.

Horrified, Annabeth slammed the door shut with all the force she could muster.

"You do realize I have no need to actually use the toilet, don't you? You're perfectly welcome to make yourself at home."

Gods, she could actually hear the smirk in his voice. If Annabeth had been hoping for a more mature version of Percy when she agreed to go on this little jaunt, she'd been sadly mistaken. Poseidon was like Percy if people had been praying to him for a few millennia no matter what he did. It was infuriating. There were only so many times you could pretend you thought water hitting people in the seat of their pants wasn't totally juvenile.

Annabeth took a deep breath, determined not to be intimidated. She summoned as much dignity as she could and slowly opened the door again.

Poseidon was chuckling as he looked at the book. "Oh, if Apollo only knew that that's what you think happened..."

"I've been looking for that all morning, you know," Annabeth said, much more calmly than she felt. "Maybe you could give it back?"

Poseidon glanced up. "Did you know people actually think there was no godly involvement in the Flavian Amphitheater?"

Annabeth felt her jaw twitch. "I suspect it's one of the many fascinating things I could learn if I had a guide book to read."

"And their account of the Second Punic War? Who do they think encouraged Hannibal to use a land route with elephants in the first place?" Poseidon shook his head in disbelief. "The things you learn when you actually read these books."

"I wouldn't know," said Annabeth dryly.

Poseidon continued to ignore her. That was another thing she'd learned: he wasn't great at picking up on sarcasm. He clearly hadn't visited his son often enough.

"Oh, la Fontana di Trevi," Poseidon said with a sigh. "I have such a weakness for a beautiful fountain."

Annabeth clenched her teeth. "Just for beautiful fountains?"

This time he did finally look up. "I'm sorry, but four thousand-year-old habits do not simply vanish overnight. I apologized to both you and the young woman yesterday."

Annabeth sighed. He had, but she didn't have to be a daughter of Hermes to know the safe bet was that as soon as he'd left last night, he'd tracked down the girl he'd been ogling all day. It was just creepy. It was a good thing Poseidon was one of the gods with a sense of humor, or she'd probably have been blasted a million times over for all her "you're old enough to be her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather!" comments. (It didn't help that his response was always, "If she's truly Roman, there's a pretty good chance I actually am." Ew.)

"Look, I don't care what you do, um, after-hours," Annabeth said. "I just want my book back. Please?"

Poseidon watched her closely for a second, then handed the book over. "I'm sorry."

She got the feeling he wasn't apologizing for taking the book, but she didn't press it. "Well, thanks," she said awkwardly. She cleared her throat. "So, where are we going to look today?"

Poseidon ran a hand through his short, dark hair to rub the back of his neck. Annabeth couldn't help the quick, traitorous Oh, Percy, I miss you so much that pounded through her skull even as she shook it off. "I was thinking, if you didn't have someplace else in mind..."

Annabeth hid a small smile. "Well, now that you mention it, there's actually this fantastic library that I think would be perfect."

Poseidon's face fell, just as Percy's always did when a library was mentioned.

And just like when Percy did it, the whipped puppy face convinced her to put him out of his misery. "But we'd have to walk past the Trevi Fountain to get there, as long as you didn't mind-"

Annabeth somehow knew she wasn't going to get to finish that sentence.

They never actually walked anywhere, she reflected, staring at the Fountain. Poseidon just whisked her away to wherever she wanted to go. Annabeth actually had to force him to let her do normal things, like sleep in a hotel room or stick to some sort of schedule. She finally got her way when she argued he couldn't be with her at all times; someone would notice, and he shouldn't be neglecting his godly duties anyway. He'd tried arguing that he was only one aspect of Poseidon, blah blah blah, but she knew enough from her mom to frown at him disapprovingly. There were certain tasks like, oh just off the top of her head, mastery of the sea that sort of required huge amounts of brain power. And given the maturity level she'd seen lately, Poseidon couldn't afford to spare any.

"It is gorgeous," Annabeth admitted to herself, staring at the intricacies of the Fountain.

"Isn't it?" asked a young man off to her left. "I'm surprised, given the Yankees cap in your pocket. Not many Americans truly appreciate the Trevi Fountain's beauty."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not like most Americans."

He chuckled. "I can see that." He held out his hand. "I'm Mario."

Annabeth forced down the image of him in overalls jumping over mushrooms. "Annabeth. Nice to meet you, even if you do make sweeping nationalistic generalizations with no evidence."

"Hey, I have evidence," Mario protested. "My mom's American. Well, mostly. And anyway, I've seen more Americans at this fountain than you've probably ever met, and they all just want to make their wish and run off to eat pizza. Until they realize what we consider pizza here."

"Oh? And when the pretty girls wish for a charming Italian man to sweep them off their feet?" Annabeth asked pointedly.

He didn't even have the decency to blush. "Who am I to crush their dreams?"

She rolled her eyes. Apparently men the world over were pigs. No wonder Circe's spells had thrived across the continents. "Tell me something."

"Anything," Mario said, smiling confidently.

"Do they ever dump you once they find out you spend your entire day hanging out at a fountain looking to pick up girls?" Annabeth asked idly, turning her attention back to the fountain's sculptures.

"That's what the accent's for," Mario replied. "It helps if you say something in Italian every so often too."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Vappa ac nebulo."

Mario snorted in surprise. "Close, but that's not Italian."

"Sure it is. Latin is the original Italian."

"You know Latin?"

"Enough to call you a scumbag," she said with a shrug. "But to be fair, that's one of the first things I learned."

"Call a lot of guys scumbags, do you?"

Annabeth stared into the fountain. "Let's just say I had my reasons, considering the circumstances under which I was learning the language."

An awkward silence stretched between them until Mario cleared his throat to ask, "So, first time seeing the Fountain, then?"

She smiled. "First time in person, yeah. I actually used the design for a fountain on Olymp-um, on an architectural project. For school."

Mario nodded, not catching the slip-up. "Impressive. I used it for my own architecture class, actually."

"You take architecture?" Annabeth asked, giving him her full attention for the first time. "At school?"

"It's a university program," he explained. "I'm hoping to be a classical architect when I graduate. I love the look of the ancient styles. I actually just got back from spending a few months in Crete as an exchange student to get a closer look at Greek architecture."

"Wow," Annabeth said breathlessly. "I would love-"

"Annabeth!" interrupted Poseidon jovially, suddenly appearing next to her. "Why, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

She stared at him oddly. "No, you haven't. I'm right where I was when you left-"

"And who might this fellow be?" he asked, talking over her. He held out his hand to Mario. "Hello, son!"

Mario looked a little freaked out, possibly because an eighteen-year-old guy had just started acting like her dad. Annabeth took a small step toward him to introduce him, but suddenly Poseidon's arm was around her shoulders, holding her in place. She glared at him icily, but before she could tell him exactly what she thought of this, Mario smiled.

"I'm Mario," he said brightly, taking Poseidon's hand. "Your girlfriend and I were just discussing architecture."

"I'm not his-"

"So I heard!" Poseidon said over her again. Annabeth started grinding her teeth, hoping he could somehow literally feel her annoyance. "The name's Don. Seems like we can't go anywhere without Annabeth stopping to admire the native scenery!"

Annabeth felt her jaw drop. He couldn't possibly be insinuating...

"Oh, no, perfectly understandable," Mario replied. "The Fountain has always been one of my all-time favorite attractions in Rome."

She wondered if she'd break the fountain if she started banging her head against it repeatedly. It was about the only thing she could reach with Poseidon's death grip on her shoulders.

"Ours too," Poseidon agreed. "But I'm afraid we're in a bit of a hurry today, so we'll have to see it again some other time."

"Of course," said Mario easily. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

He was looking at Annabeth as he said it, but Poseidon either deliberately misinterpreted or honestly assumed everyone was thrilled to meet him in person. "The pleasure was all mine, Fabio."

"Mario," the guy corrected automatically.

"That's what I said," Poseidon said cheerfully as he started dragging Annabeth away.

"I'm sorry about this! It was nice to meet you too!" she called behind her.

"You might want to change your pants!" was Poseidon's final advice, and Annabeth watched in horror as a jet of water shot from the fountain and soaked the front of Mario's khakis.

Annabeth tried to apologize hurriedly again, but Poseidon whipped the words right out of her mouth with a sharp tug of her (now probably dislocated) arm. He didn't let up until they'd gone about a quarter mile from the Trevi Fountain. There, Poseidon abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

"Just what was that?" they both demanded at the same time.

Annabeth fumed. "What was what? You're the one who swooped in, acting like a complete jerk! You're not my boyfriend!"

"No, I'm not," Poseidon snapped. "Last time I checked, my son was. Although judging by the way you were flirting with that boy, maybe my information is out of date!"

Annabeth just stared. "What is that supposed to mean? Of course Percy's my boyfriend! And I was not flirting! I don't even know how to flirt!"

"Well, Fabio clearly doesn't have the same problem," Poseidon shot back. "You may know how the modern world works, my dear, but I know men. And they haven't changed in four thousand years!"

Annabeth stood there, flabbergasted. Had Mario been flirting with her? Her only real experience with that was Percy, and for them, flirting was not punching each other quite as hard as they could have. Looking bad, she supposed it was possible. And if so, she probably should have cut him off and explained she was seeing someone. She hadn't even liked the scumbag until he mentioned architecture, though, and then she was always excited to talk about architecture...

"Well, you're one to talk!" she finally managed, even though she'd originally been planning to apologize. "I'm sorry" just didn't seem to be in her vocabulary lately. You know, for the past seventeen years or so.

Poseidon raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

"Where did you run off to as soon as we saw the fountain?" she challenged.

He colored slightly, but she wasn't sure if that was from embarrassment or anger. Right now, she didn't care, either. "It really is absolutely none of your business, you know."

She snorted. "Right. Not my business. Not my business why you're ditching me in the middle of Rome and then lecturing me on finally talking to someone my own age?"

"No," Poseidon said sharply. "It's none of your business at all. And if you can't manage to keep your thoughts to yourself, I am more than capable of keeping you silent myself!"

"Oh yeah? What would you possibly do about it?" Before she'd even had time to think, she watched her finger poke Poseidon in the chest. Hard.

His expression grew stormy, and for a second he seemed to grow in size. Anger and power radiated off him like heat. He looked, she realized, like his brother Zeus. "Have you truly forgotten what I am capable of?" he thundered, frightening a little boy who was drawing on the sidewalk beside them. That seemed to snap him back to reality, and he almost deflated right before her eyes.

Annabeth swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to bow. "No, of course...well, actually, yes," she admitted. "I'm...I'm sorry, but when you're walking around Rome with me, dressed like that" -she indicated his jeans and Nike sweatshirt- "it's easy to forget who you really are. You just seem like..."

"Percy," he finished for her, sighing.

She looked up, surprised. "I was going to say 'a normal teenager,' actually."

Poseidon smiled slightly. "I suppose that's more or less the same thing. I apologize as well. I should not have reacted so...strongly. I know you have been nothing but loyal to my son, as he has been to you. Still, I would think you of all people would appreciate my attire. Considering there's a very good chance Nike's father is being reborn to exact revenge on your mother, we should really do our best to keep the goddess of victory on our side."

Annabeth laughed. "Isn't that usually a good thing no matter what? And anyway, does she really like such a giant corporation?"

Poseidon shrugged. "It did claim victory over its competitors, did it not?"

"True," she acknowledged. Ignoring the strange looks from the people in the street, she did finally bow. "I sincerely apologize for my behavior, Lord Poseidon."

"And I for mine, Lady Annabeth," he said, mocking her with a quick bow of his own.

She smiled softly. She liked the easy banter they had, even if he'd never be Percy. It was too bad he was also a slightly unstable, all-powerful god. She wondered if they would ever hit just the right balance between the two. Just because Poseidon had a sense of humor, it didn't mean he was also immune to perceived slights against him. Maybe there was a gyro somewhere she could burn for him.

"So, shall we continue our search for whatever it is that was supposed to bring you to Rome?" Poseidon asked, offering his arm.

"Sure," Annabeth said. She tried not to sound as discouraged as she felt. "Since our first three days have been so successful."

"I may actually have something to help with that," he told her with a twinkle in his eye. "I don't imagine you hear this often, but you were wrong. For once I was disappearing for a completely legitimate reason. Well, mostly legitimate," he amended at her disbelieving stare. "The girl was remarkably good-looking, and her father owns a fleet of ships so fast you could swear they fly..."

Annabeth held in a sigh and tried not to let her mind drift halfway across the world to another ship you'd swear could fly.

"I can stay, if you want," offered Poseidon reluctantly, already edging toward the door. "I mean, I know it's perfectly safe, and you're much better at this book work than I am, so I'd really be more of a hindrance than an actual help, but I'm completely willing to stay. If you honestly think it would help. And if you don't think I would simply get in the way. Which, to be honest, is likely to happen, wouldn't you say? So it's okay if I leave, then?"

Annabeth tried not to roll her eyes. He's a god, she told herself. He can blast you to pieces. Disrespect is bad. "Of course, Lord-um, Don. As you said, I suspect I'll accomplish much more here on my own."

Okay, so he hadn't said exactly that. But phrasing it as his idea meant he was much less likely to pick up on the fact that she'd technically just insulted him. Even if it was the truth. Along with their aversion to libraries, Poseidon and Percy also shared the same patience for reading. Percy couldn't hide behind the dyslexia excuse anymore; his brain might have been hardwired for Ancient Greek, but it was definitely hardwired to avoid reading. He got that from his dad's side of the family.

"You're sure?" asked Poseidon, hesitating just a second longer.

She waved him out the door. "I've got stacks of books higher than my head. I won't even notice you're gone. Go."

"Yell if you need me!" he called back, already down the hall.

It turned out the girl Poseidon had met was the daughter of one of the most famous shipping magnates in all of Europe, Antonio del Mar. And despite how impressed Poseidon was with the del Mar fleet, he was even more impressed with the owner's eco-friendly business style. For the first time since they'd stepped foot in Rome, Poseidon was completely ignoring a pretty girl who was obviously flirting with him. The girl had given up after the tenth time she'd glanced at Annabeth with annoyance and hinted they go somewhere more private, and Poseidon had asked excitedly if that's where they kept the ship blueprints. (The girl had told him no, of course; it was just more private, but Poseidon had looked endearingly confused. He'd assured her that Annabeth could keep a secret; anything she had to say about the ship design, she could say in front of Annabeth. He looked even more confused when that didn't do anything to mollify the girl. For someone apparently so well versed in the art of romance, Poseidon's skills seemed a little rusty.)

As impressed as Poseidon had been with the man in charge, however, the man in charge has been ten times more impressed with Poseidon. Annabeth had chuckled as the middle-aged man started gushing over "how wonderful it was to see a young person taking such interest in the sea!" He'd immediately offered to show Poseidon around the inner workings of the company, and it was hard to tell which of them was more excited about it. Annabeth hadn't been as thrilled; dating Percy had gone a long way toward making her appreciate the ocean, sure, but she could still remember little things like seasickness and worrying her mother's immortal enemy would drown her the second she left land. She was much more at home in Signor del Mar's giant library, which supposedly held a clue about why she might be in Rome.

Luckily Signor del Mar had taken an instant liking to Poseidon's "delightful companion" as well. He immediately offered to let her stay in the library while he showed Poseidon around. He'd instructed her to inform his daughter if she needed anything (Annabeth had enjoyed snickering at the look on the girl's face at that). Otherwise, he said, just look out for all the nieces and nephews running around the house, and she should be fine.

With Poseidon finally leaving her to read in peace, she turned to the piles of books she'd selected. Currently she was reading an account by Virgil of the various ways the Greek religion had blended with other customs and deities in the region. It was fascinating, but not particularly unbiased, she mused. Still, it was beautiful in its original Latin, even if it turned out to be completely unhelpful. As a poet, Virgil certainly didn't lack a flair for the dramatic. Or hesitate to embellish the story to make for better reading.

"So, finally lose the old man?" asked a voice to her left.

She jumped and-though she would never admit it-shrieked a little. That was happening a lot today, she grumbled to herself. "You shouldn't talk about Signor del Mar that way," she snapped, searching for the voice.

A boy stepped out from behind a stack of books. A very familiar boy. "I wasn't talking about my uncle."

"What are you doing here?" Annabeth asked sharply, staring at Mario. "Did you follow me?"

He laughed. "Hardly. If anything, you followed me. I don't spend all my time at the Fountain, you know. Eventually I have to sleep, and well, like I said." He shrugged. "My uncle."

Annabeth thought about that for a second. "How much did your parents hate you to name you 'Mario del Mar'?"

A flash of annoyance crossed his face. "My last name is actually Panzetti. Uncle Antonio is my half-uncle, technically. He took his mother's surname when he went into the shipping business. He thinks it's clever. I think it's annoying, since 'del Mar' isn't even Italian. But whatever."

"Touchy subject, huh?" asked Annabeth, raising an eyebrow. "Kind of petty, considering your mother is American, isn't it?"

"What?" Mario asked, confused.

"Your mother. You said she was American earlier."

"Oh, right," he said, nodding. "I said 'mostly.' She was born here, but my grandfather sent her to boarding school in New York before she was even a teenager."

"So that's how you knew the Yankees," Annabeth realized. "So you're American too?"

"Kind of." He wrinkled his nose. "It's complicated. You know how messy extended families can get."

She didn't point out that his citizenship didn't really have anything to do with how messy his family was. Maybe she was getting better at these social skills after all. "Well, you talk like an American. You must have spent some time there."

Mario sighed. "I grew up there, actually. I moved to Italy to live with Uncle Antonio when I was thirteen. My father...well, he decided it would be better for everyone if I was closer to my mom."

He sounded bitter, and Annabeth tried not to relate. Her relationship with her own father had gotten so much better in the past few years that she made a conscious effort to ignore how much she used to resent him. Still, she couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I know how tough that must have been."

"Yeah, well." He didn't finish, so they sat there in awkward silence until Annabeth finally found something to say again.

"So your mom lives here in Italy, then?" she asked, then almost whacked herself in the forehead. If his mom was still around, why would he be living with his uncle? Stupid, Annabeth. Stupid!

Mario didn't seem offended, though. In fact, he instantly grinned widely. "No, but close. I get to visit her a lot. I can't stay with her full-time thanks to some old religious rules, but I don't mind. Soon we'll be together permanently."

"Oh, like when you graduate?" Annabeth asked, trying to keep the conversation in the light-hearted, "I have a parent I don't hate" territory.

"Yeah, you could say that," Mario said vaguely. He flipped through a book on one of the stacks before looking up at her again. "So I take it your boyfriend isn't the, ah, intellectual type?"

"He's smart," Annabeth insisted automatically. How many times had she had this same discussion with her fellow Athena siblings in recent years? "Per-uh, Don's just not that interested in ancient history."

She had to catch herself before she laughed at her own joke. Why would he read about it when he'd already lived it?

"Well, his loss," Mario said. He smiled charmingly at her. "While he's busy touring some boring old shipyards, what would you say to a tour of one of the finest restaurants in all of Rome?"

Annabeth's brain short-circuited. "I, uh, I've got a lot of reading to do," she stammered stupidly, gesturing to her piles of books.

"It'll still be here when we get back," he pointed out. "Come on. We'll be back before the old sea brains know we're gone."

That was enough to strengthen her resolve. "No, thank you. I really don't think it's appropriate. I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with this-"

"With eating?" he asked, grinning.

She glared him down. "But I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I have a boyfriend. We're happy together-"

"Yes, I can tell," Mario said teasingly, but that just made Annabeth glare harder.

"I think you should go."

"No, no, of course. It was just a friendly invitation, nothing more. Believe me, I wouldn't dream of crossing Don. I get the feeling he doesn't take kindly to insults."

"You have no idea," Annabeth told him seriously.

"Well, if you change your mind, my room is upstairs, fourth door on the left. And if Don's busy while you're here in bella Roma and you need a dashing Roman tour guide, you know where I live." With that, he winked and left the library, slamming the door shut behind him.

Annabeth stared at the door a moment before shaking her head sharply. She needed to focus. It didn't help that she could practically hear Rachel's voice: "Ooh, he's a cute one."

Annabeth shook her head again, looking down to search for the Virgil book she'd abandoned. It was just here; where had she put it again...?

"Seriously, we leave you alone for, like, three days, and you're already finding adorable Italian guys. This whole Oracle thing was not supposed to be this unfair."

"Shut up," Annabeth muttered. Talking to herself. Great. And what had she done with that stupid book? It wasn't like it could have wandered off.

"I mean, no offense to the guys around here, of course. What you demigods lack in attention spans, you more than make up for in looks. Some of these Romans...phew! I'm going to have to have a talk with Apollo. Just how far does this 'no boys' rule extend, anyway? Like, I can obviously still talk to them. So...if we're talking over dinner, that's fine, right? Or if we're talking in my cave, late at night? Or at an art show? Or at a movie? We probably wouldn't even be talking there, actually-"

"Shut up!" Annabeth shouted, rubbing her temples. Was this her own version of a conscience? Her conscience was a jerk.

"That's not very nice. I'm trying to have a pleasant conversation here. We're all very worried, you know, and you're over there eyeing that gorgeous hunk of tiramisu..."

Annabeth stood up abruptly, deciding it was time for some fresh air. As she turned to walk out the door, though, she came face-to-face with none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

"Finally," Rachel said with a grin. "I was wondering how much more of that it was going to take to get your attention."

"I'm hallucinating," Annabeth murmured. "That's the only possible explanation."

"Or I'm IM-ing you," Rachel said mildly. "Personally, I know which explanation I'd go with, but you're the brainiac. Although let me just say, you have fantastic taste in hallucinations!"

Annabeth stared. "Rachel?"

She stared back. "Maybe the hallucination thing is more likely than I thought. Did you hit your head recently?" Rachel started speaking slowly. "My name is Rachel. I am a friend."

"I know who you are!" Annabeth snapped. "But how...what...?"

"You know what you need for an IM? Money and mist. My dad hasn't disowned me yet, and we're on a boat in Florida. I think I meet the qualifications."

"But you'd need a location."

"Like that's hard." Rachel spread her arms. "Oracle, remember? Sort of a prophetess?"

"That doesn't mean you can see the future yourself. You don't even hear your own prophecies!"

"Okay, so you're predictable." Rachel shrugged. "All things considered, isn't it really the same thing?"

"No," Annabeth said, crossing her arms.

"You are such a killjoy." She clapped her hands. "So, to business!"

"'Business'?" Annabeth echoed. "We have business?"

"Yes. When your best friend takes off with her boyfriend's father without saying a word to you, you have business." Rachel peered at her disapprovingly through the IM.

Annabeth sighed. "I really can't explain-"

"You thought you were dividing the camps even more by sticking around, so you decided to head to Rome alone and thus not endanger anyone else with the prophecy," Rachel interrupted. Annabeth stared at her, astonished. "I'm telling you. Pre-dict-a-ble. I'm guessing Poseidon came along to make sure Percy didn't hate him for letting you die?"

"More or less," Annabeth admitted. "So why are you calling if you knew all this already?"

"To tell you that you're being an idiot," Rachel said brightly.

"Look, if you're going to try to talk me out of it-"

"I didn't say that. I said I was going to tell you that you're being an idiot. By the way, you're being an idiot."

"I have to do this, Rachel. I can't let Percy get killed over me," Annabeth said, trying to will Rachel to see how serious she was.

"And just where does it say Percy's going to get killed over you?" Although it was outside the range of the IM, Annabeth just knew Rachel had her hands on her hips. "Or maybe he gets killed trying to get you back. Did you ever think of that? Hmm?"

"I guarantee he's safer there than he is here!"

"Yes," Rachel said, deadpan. "We can only pray you make it out of the library unscathed."

"Rachel..."

"Who knows what horrors lurk in the depths of Moby Dick?" She grinned. "See what I did there?"

"Rachel!"

"Oh, fine," Rachel huffed. "I just thought you'd like to know your boyfriend is miserable without you, and his moping is seriously bring down the mood around here. I think at the very least you should IM him and let him know you're still okay. Before we're forced to tie him below decks so we don't have to feel like we've kicked a puppy every time we look at him."

"Oh, right, like you're not going to turn around and tell him all about this the minute we're through here," Annabeth scoffed.

"No, I'm not, thank you very much."

"Wait, you're not going to tell him you IM-ed me? At all?" Annabeth's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Really?"

"No," Rachel said. "Not if you promise to contact him yourself. I'm not going to rub it in his face that I went behind his back to try to get his girlfriend to talk to him. And Hera's monitoring every move he makes, so...it's up to you to contact him. Securely. I'm sure Poseidon knows a way you can do it."

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do. As of now, I'm not giving you a choice. No excuses. Just call." Rachel's face softened. "You know how Percy is. This is tough on him. He finally regains his memories and finds you, and suddenly you're gone again."

Annabeth suddenly found it hard to swallow. "All right. You've made your point."

"Great!" chirped Rachel, back to her usual bubbly self. "You know, you were right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"By leaving, you did bring the camps together."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They've all teamed up in this great new game they're calling, 'Who Can Curse Drew the Worst?' Clarisse is the current reigning champion; that girl can be seriously creative when she puts her mind to it. Just wait until you hear what she did yesterday. You are going to be so sorry you missed it..."

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait; my life got so unexpectedly hectic! I also revised/rewrote the chapter and moved some things around, thanks to an excellent recommendation from bibliophile114 (which, on the bright side, means part of the next chapter is already written, so hooray?). Speaking of bibliophile114, another MASSIVE thanks for beta reading this one for me not once, but twice. I can't believe your life gets so busy, and you still make time to look over these things. I owe you so much more than I can say in a quick author's note! But take this as a down payment, okay?

I'd also like to thank everyone who's been reading so far, especially if you're sticking with the story despite my hectic schedule (and now possibly my choice to create an OC...I promise it was necessary! Really!). I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment, because I'm pretty sure you deserved it :)