A/N: This is rated T for only the, uh, bit at the end. Enjoy, my friends.
She blames it on her parents.
No, really. Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a product of her upbringing and, thus, the ornate Christmas decorations were all her parents' faults. They're the ones who taught her to go all out on the trimming of the tree: tinsel, ornaments, popcorn and cranberries, the freaking works. And then the mistletoe. Despite being the virgin Oracle, Rachel loves mistletoe. It's a fun excuse to use a dumbass pickup line and get a couple of smooches a day, just for fun.
And Rachel Elizabeth Dare loves fun.
Which is why, of course, she's absolutely livid at Leo Valdez for tampering with her beautiful decorations. Something the day before had been going on with him and Frank, and now no one will go anywhere near her decorations.
"Come on!" she complains that morning, standing underneath the Ares cabin door and a lovely sprig of the Christmas plant. "I swear, this one is one of mine! No one's going to fall in love with themselves this time."
"Like we'll believe you, Dare," says Clarisse with an eye roll. "Now let us through before we pound you."
"You'll do no such thing," says Rachel, folding red and gold stained fingertips across her chest. She has spent much of this day decorating a globular ornament for each of the campers. It's the least she could do for them. "Apollo would fry you to a freaking crisp and even you guys wouldn't risk that."
"I'd be willing to take those odds," growls a guy with dark brown hair that, really, Rachel did not recognize.
"Look, I'm standing under it," says Rachel, throwing her hands up in the air. "If this was going to do anything to anyone, wouldn't I be in love with myself already?" The look on Clarisse's face makes her say, "Don't answer that." For a few moments she looks from person to person, trying to get at least someone to deal with it, but no one's giving her even half a chance.
"Fine," Rachel sighs, letting it drag out and sound as whiny as humanly possible, "I'll take it down."
The second she touches the mistletoe, however, she knows something's wrong.
"Oh, no," she says. "Oh, this is bad."
"What's bad?" asks Clarisse. "Your decorative choices?"
"No, I – I have to go." Rachel throws the mistletoe down and books it down the stairs, through the center of the camp, and then runs into the Big House.
"I had a vision!" she exclaims to Annabeth, who is precariously perched on Percy's shoulders as she tries to put the star at the top of the tree. Rachel's startled that the two of them can see, since the only light in the room is the menorah and a couple of holiday lights. "We have a problem! Piper's in trouble!"
"Trouble?" asks Percy, and the sudden movement causes Annabeth to lose her balance, flopping off Percy's shoulders and landing straight on top of Rachel as Percy falls right back into the wall.
"Not that I don't appreciate your voluptuous womanhood pressing into mine," snarks Rachel, "but this is so not going to help Piper."
"Sorry, sorry, totally not on purpose!" says Annabeth. "Tell me, what's going on?" She stands and rushes to help Percy up. "Where is she?"
"In Bunker Nine," says Rachel as they run to Piper. "I picked up a thing of mistletoe and – well, I saw her screaming. I don't have any idea what the connection was, but she looked like something was killing her."
"Fuck," says Annabeth, "it must be a monster. I told Leo we need to work on the defenses of that place. Opening it just made it vulnerable! We need to get there fast."
They run in panicked silence until they rip open the door to Bunker Nine. (Well, rip open may be a bit strong. Annabeth presses her hand to the coding pattern and Percy and Rachel dance around impatiently until the door opens.) They run through the labyrinth, trying to figure out where Rachel's vision came from.
They hear Piper's voice, in between heart wrenching screams, yell, "God, what are you even doing? This is killing me, fuck!"
"We have to go save her!" shouts Rachel, and she doesn't stop for a second, even though Annabeth grabs her arm and says, "Um, Rachel, I don't think we need to –"
What Rachel sees will be burned into her retinas until Christmas of 2119. At least.
Reyna's on her knees in front of Piper.
And not in a shoe-tying way.
"Oops," squeaks Rachel as Percy and Annabeth literally drag her out of the room before Reyna or Piper notice them. "I have made an error."
"You think, Oracle Girl?" grumbles Annabeth. "Next time ask the Oracle for a bit clearer of a vision."
"Sounds good," whimpers Rachel, still feeling scarred. "Stupid virgin Oracle."