A/N: Ghost AU. Set in an AU where Reyna and Leo never met at all.

Reyna had never been one to believe in ghosts, or the supernatural in general (the Greco-Roman pantheon didn't count). But gods damn it, if whatever was causing her all this trouble didn't leave soon, she was going to kill it again.

Aurum had clambered onto the top of the couch and was howling— loudly— at the invisible chains that were clanking around the living room ceiling. His silver brother, on the other hand, was standing guard at the door, barking angrily every time a doorbell rang. (She didn't have a doorbell.)

And even outside of bothering the dogs, the whatever-it-was was just inconveniencing the Pluto out of her. She'd come home from a long day in the Senate and find her fridge reorganized, the TV running a telenovela marathon, or the lights flickering on and off in Morse code pickup lines.

The day she came in to new light bulbs installed in all her lamps, she said out loud, "You know I can do that myself, thank you!" She hated being underestimated.

After that, she began to notice even more household chores being done while she was out, or sometimes while she was in and just resting. Rewired electronics, replaced batteries, all sorts of mechanical help that, if she were being honest, she would probably have taken months to get around to. So she stopped complaining out loud and instead just took to sighing loudly, rolling her eyes. Sometimes she thought the rustling of the leaves in the trees sounded like laughter.

Despite her adamant disbelief in the supernatural, Reyna was embarrassed to realize she didn't entirely mind this one discrepancy. Not that she would ever admit it, if anyone found out. But, to be polite, she left a cup of hot chocolate on the counter (who knew if ghosts could choose to drink?) and wrote a note next to the mug: Who are you? it said in her flawless cursive.

When she came back, the mug was empty, and beside it, her Latin dictionary lay open, with her note set right under the entry for leo.

Leo it was, then.

In the winter, when even California got cold and she hated it, she was always hesitant to turn up the heat any more than she had to. Why waste the money and energy, right? But somehow by the time she got home from work every day, the heating system was already at the perfect temperature, nice and toasty, and the electric blanket was laid out on the sofa.

She sighed every time, pleased and not so loud, and her lips curved in a gentle smile. The lamp on the coffee table blinked -.— —- ..- .—. .-. . / .— . .-.. -.-. —- — ., Morse code for You're welcome.

It was strange, having a friend who was invisible and intangible and inaudible outside of his messing with her electronics, but Reyna grew to enjoy Leo's company. Though co-praetors came and went, she could always depend on the ghost whose presence made her villa a little warmer (and a little smellier, like campfire and engine oil or something). She'd curl up on her couch with the electric blanket, turn on a telenovela, and laugh every time the lamp flickered Morse commentary. Or she'd bake cookies for herself and turn around to get a puff of flour in the face, making her choke on her laughter as she tried to wipe it all off and inevitably miss some of it in her hair. Luckily he never seemed to care.

But she didn't realize how attached she had gotten until the day she came home and didn't see him. The villa was extra warm, as usual, but no lights were flickering, no rustling leaves were laughing, and the dogs were quiet. She kicked off her shoes and walked slowly to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream, wondering if he might be planning a prank.

He wasn't planning a prank. Once she'd gotten her ice cream and sat down on the couch, she felt the electric blanket turn on, and the faint smell of campfire seeped into the air. Relaxed now that he was here, she leaned back into the armrest and began to talk to the air about her day.

When she quieted, she expected him to make a joke, but instead he was quiet too. Not gone, but inactive. Almost like he was thinking. And then all the lights began to flicker in unison:

.. / .-.. —- …- . / -.— —- ..-

I love you.

She held her breath and looked at her knees, blinking quickly in the hopes she wouldn't start to cry. Because what kind of lonely idiot fell in love with a ghost?