Merry Christmas to those of you who live in a place where it's already the 25! Happy Christmas Eve to the rest! And Happy Holidays to anyone who celebrates something else. Enjoy the chapter, I hope! I'll either have another posted tonight and one tomorrow, or one each day for the next two days, depending on if I get the chance to type.

Disclaimer: Me no own anything.

Note: To those of you who said I messed up again yesterday, I didn't. There's multiple versions of this song, and from the one I'm using the last few days go 'drummers, fiddlers, ladies dancing, lords leaping'.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… Ten fiddlers fiddling.

Percy

Flowers? Check. Reservations? Check. Text sent to Annabeth, making sure she was still meeting him? Check. On time? Check.

It was Percy and Annabeth's one year anniversary after being married, and despite her rejections, he was determined to make it a good one. He'd called in reservations at a local Italian restaurant that he knew she loved, with the help of his mother. Piper had helped him get a 'proper' bouquet of Annabeth's favorite flowers, and had also helped him find a nice but inexpensive gift. It was a little over-done, he knew, but he also had a feeling that under her rebuttals, she would be proud of him for putting in such an effort.

Therefore, when she came up to him, looking both beautiful and furious in a knee-length black skirt, a navy blue and silver striped sweater, and a livid expression, he merely smiled and stood to greet her.

"Hey Annabeth, you look nice," he stated, opening the door to the restaurant for her.

"Yeah Seaweed Brain, you too," she scowled, glaring at him.

"Well, let's not stand out here glowering. Come inside, our reservation was set for five minutes ago."

"Percy, why couldn't you just have this be simple? I told you we didn't have to do anything big or fancy, it's just a one-year anniversary. Save the romantics for twenty-five or fifty."

"That's the thing, Wise Girl, we don't know if we'll live to twenty-five or fifty. We're not like mortal couples. They worry about divorce, but we wouldn't do something like that. All we have to be concerned about is our life span and living to the most of it. I want to make each and every one of our anniversaries as special as possible."

"Perce… It would be just as special in our apartment, eating pizza and watching the Disney version of Hercules. Special doesn't have to be expensive and fancy, and you didn't need to get your mother and Pipes to help you plan this stuff. I appreciate it, and I know your intentions were good, but I'm not really one for elaborate evenings. I've never really been one for elaborate anything, for that matter."

Percy felt the disappointment settle in his chest, weighing down heavily on his heart. He'd known Annabeth didn't like a big show, but hadn't really thought much about it. Caught up in his fantasies, he hadn't had time to worry, though it would sneak into his thoughts occasionally.

His expression must have been pretty bad, because immediately Annabeth wrapped her arms around him. "Come on Seaweed Brain, let's go inside. Don't want to put all your hard work to waste, right? Besides, Piper didn't practically force me into this outfit just to go back home."

"Okay," he mumbled as she passed him.

Inside, the music was not what he'd expected from a more sophisticated restaurant. It was folk, played on what sounded like a string instrument. He supposed it was probably a fiddle. Shrugging inwardly, he took Annabeth's hand and they went up to the maître d'.

"Reservations?" she asked, picking up a laminated list.

"Jackson," Percy stated, fiddling nervously with Annabeth's fingers. He wasn't used to handling a formal situation by himself, and since he was a kid talking to adults other than his mom, Chiron, and the gods had made him feel slightly awkward.

"Oh yes, here you are. We'll be with you in a moment," the woman said, placing the list back on her tiny counter.

"Thank you," Percy replied, pulling Annabeth along with him to sit on one of the couches.

"You've gotten better at dealing with people at restaurants," Annabeth said. "Remember when you made your mom order for you that one time, because you said the waitress looked like an empousa and you didn't want her to notice you?"

Percy grinned, "Yeah. Turns out she just had bad balance and a pretty face."

"Gods, she gave you the weirdest look ever," Annabeth laughed. "I think she thought you were deaf, after a while, because you didn't speak if she even came in sight. She started talking to you like people do when there's something different in someone – that baby voice."

"I remember," he scowled.

'Jackson, party of two,' hummed from somewhere.

Percy stood up, holding out an arm to Annabeth. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she agreed, taking the extended arm.

Like those cutesy couples in old movies, they walked arm and arm to their table, all previous unease forgotten. The fiddle and acoustic guitar played out through the restaurant, keeping the mood light and happy.

I did pretty good after all, Percy thought, astonished.

Later that night, Annabeth agreed that it hadn't been such a bad idea to do something fancy, and in the end it had been the perfect night.