It Takes Two

By: dnrl


Percy is a suffering student of marine biology at NYU. Against his wishes, his cousin signs him up for a tutor, and he resigns himself to endless boredom...but the tutor he gets definitely isn't what he was expecting. Percabeth, AU

Chapter Four: Any Way You Want It

"I told you I was bad," I said sympathetically, smiling.

"But I didn't think that anyone could be…" She gestured widely with her hands, face dismayed.

"This bad," I completed, grin approaching Cheshire Cat-capacity.

"Well."

I laughed, resting my head sideways on my arm, looking up at my (adorably) frustrated teacher. Curls of shimmering gold were falling haphazardly out of her loose ponytail, and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. She gnawed away, tapping her pencil against my Statistics textbook. Finally, her steely gray eyes turned on me.

"…Break?"

"Is that a plea I hear in your voice, Miss Chase?" I teased, sitting up and stretching.

"Yes," she said, whimpering for dramatic effect. She stuck out her lower lip.

I grinned, rising. I offered her a hand and pulled her up out of the armchair. "Where to, O Mighty Tutor?"

She flashed a smile. "I'm thinkin' Arby's," she said.

"OhmahgawsIthinmahmoufishonfiah."

Her hand flew to her nose to pinch the end before her Dr. Pepper could burst out. Tear of laughter sparkled in her eyes – eyes sparkling at my expense, mind you.

"I did tell you," she said, carefully trying not to smile, "not to order the Five Flaming Fajitas without at least two drinks beforehand." She offered hers to me, and I sucked it down greedily. "Oi! You're buying my refill."

"I'm buying the meal," I griped as feeling returned to my singed and dying tongue.

"And what a big boy you are," she cooed, smiling at me.

Despite our "break" having begun at four, it was fast approaching seven. It had taken us about half an hour to get to Arby's, only to find out that some kind of bomb threat had been made on the kitchen because of a cockroach in some mafia don's food or something. So Annabeth's hopes were dashed, and we wound up eating at Chevy's across the street.

And it had a waiting line literally out the door.

But seeing as we were tired and had nothing else to do, we sat in line.

For an hour and a half.

Thirty minutes in, I half-heartedly suggested that we leave.

"You don't really mean that," Annabeth said with utter certainty.

"No. But how would you know?"

Her eyes rolled, an amused smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. "Because you're like me, and I'm thinking that we've been sitting here for half an hour and like hell are we giving up our spot. We are going to eat at this restaurant and we are going to enjoy every single hard-earned bite."

"Go Team Jackson-Chase!"

"Oh, please," she scoffed, raising an amused eyebrow. "It is so Chase-Jackson."

"Oh, you're right, ladies first."

"But that would make it Jackson-Chase," she smirked.

"Ouch," I cried, my hand over my heart. "How sorely your words wound me, fair lady."

"Such was their intent, good sir," she replied.

So after another hour of banter and waiting, our small plastic disc began a-buzzing, and we were given a tiny table next to the bathroom.

"Evening!" said the waiter, a kid not much younger than us.

"Well, what've you got?" I asked. I couldn't help myself from letting my Eric Idle (1) impersonation take over for a moment.

His eyebrows furrowed, but Annabeth picked it up.

"Have you got anything without spam?" she queried, her British accent apparent. She shot me a shared grin across the table as the waiter "um"d and "ah"d for a few moments before she cut him off.

"We're kidding," she said. "I'll have a Dr. Pepper to drink."

"Coke, please," I said.

As he walked away, still befuddled as anything, we burst out laughing.

"Children," she sighed when we were done, shaking her head with mock-sadness. "They just don't appreciate the classics anymore."

"Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!" I sang. She burst out into giggles.

"Stop," she cried. Her hands were over her ribs, and her eyes were filled with tears of laughter for the first (of many) times that evening. "No spam songs tonight?"

"Can I do the Bruce's Philosopher Song, then?" I pouted. "Please?"

"Later," she said, nodding. "We can sing it together as we race through town at sixty miles per hour."

"Quite right," I agreed.

"Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, say no more."

We kept the jokes up until the waiter came back with our drinks and tortilla chips and we placed our orders.

Which led to the Fajita Fiasco.

Yes, it does deserve capitals. Shush.

I paid and we left, she still mocking me for my poor dining choice. I scoffed.

"Says the girl who gagged on her tortilla chip."

"There was green stuff on it!" she defended heatedly, blushing and smiling at the same time.

"Sure there was."

"Hush, you! No speaking!" she reprimanded "sternly." The effect was somewhat diminished by her laughter.

We walked to my car, and true to her word, we hooked up her iPod and blasted Bruce's Philosopher Song all the way to her dorm.

"…Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle, and Hobbes was fond of his dram – and Rene Descartes was a drunken fart – 'I drink therefore I am!' Yes," we bellowed, "Socrates himself is particularly missed…a lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed!"

Laughing, I drove her to the door of her dorm and walked her up to the building. She turned at the entrance, her smile lighting up the entire night sky. "That was fun, Percy," she said. "Entirely unproductive, but fun." Her smile softened into something sweeter, more gentle, and her hand gently brushed my face. Her eyes were tender and soothing, and I felt myself being pulled in.

Slowly, I stepped forwards just as she did. My hand reached up to trap hers against my cheek, and I felt, rather than saw, her take a huge breath. Her eyes were shining with the light of a million stars, and her cheeks were flushed, and god was she beautiful. The feeling from this morning washed over me in wave after wave after wave, and I realized that her breath was washing over my lips and mine over hers.

We had the space of a single sheet of paper between our mouths. She blinked, and her eyelashes grazed my cheek. I exhaled sharply, and she shivered. Her eyes met mine, and then –

Headlights flashed in the driveway, and we broke apart instantaneously. We were both stammering and blushing, making excuses. She laughed a bit too loudly, waved brightly, and turned and fairly ran into her dorm.

I remained where I stood for a long time after that, the cool night wind blowing away the heat in my cheeks from my blush. I watched the stars move in the night sky, and that feeling stayed with me, softer now, but still stronger than anything I'd ever felt.

I couldn't name it.

Well, I could.

But I didn't want to.

Because it couldn't be true.

I couldn't possibly even think that I was falling in love.

There was no way.

A/N:

…

…

Aha.

-ducks flying projectiles-

Hey there, readers! How've…how've you guys been? For…um…heh…since June. And it's what, now, November? Aha. Hahaha. Missed me?

But, um, yeah. Pretty sure my block for this story is gone. But midterms are swift approaching, and I'm staying late after school for various clubs every day except Friday, so I'm a busy little girl right now. XD I really am trying to stay on top of this, though – I swear! Next chapter of Symphony is in the works (hopefully it won't turn out to be something else, like Yesterday's Feelings did…) and so is the next chapter for Fall Into The Sky. :)

Oh, right – footnotes.

(1) is a reference to the Monty Python "Spam" sketch, which is absolutely hysterical. For those poor people who have no knowledge of the awesome that is Monty Python, go to YouTube and search for the "Dead Parrot Sketch" by them. Hysterical. Also, Bruce's Philosopher Song is another piece of theirs that I find particularly amusing, in a nerdy sort of way. XD And so is "Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, say no more." And…yeah. They're just amazing.

See you guys soon!

- dnrl