Book Two: Chapter Four

"You didn't say you were coming here." Percy said to Reyna as they moved to the music. It was a classical piece, nice and slow, and it gave them the opportunity to talk to one another, despite having to manoeuvre around nosy guests.

"I thought I would surprise you." She answered with a smirk. "And I don't tell you everything I do. Nor do I have to."

"No, I know that." He chuckled. "Gods know I'd never try to assume otherwise. It's a nice surprise. I thought I'd just have to subtly make fun of Jason, but with you here I can openly talk about some things."

"Is one of those things going to be whatever that debacle with the police in Montauk was?" Reyna arched an eyebrow at him. "You've never been particularly petty, but I can't think of another word to describe that fiasco."

"It was personal." He admitted. "Bad history. I don't want to talk about it here."

"But we will talk about it?" She narrowed her eyes at him. Percy sighed.

"If you ask me to, yes."

"Ah, placing the decision in my hands." Reyna nodded. "Clever. People will wonder how you fit in so well here."

"Oh I just tell them I did cotilion when I was younger."

"But you didn't."

"I did, actually." Percy grinned at her, before leaning in so his lips were beside her ear. "It was an Atlantean cotilion. And I was, technically, younger."

"It seems I have much to learn then." Reyna said. "We will have to talk another time. Thank you for the dance, Percy. I…needed it."

"Me too." He smiled. "Don't be a stranger."

They separated, and like starved dogs, Piper and Jason set on them, the former going for Percy and the latter for Reyna. It would have been rude to decline when the reporter asked him for a dance of her own, so he had accepted, and they were swept onto the floor amongst the others. Piper, thankfully, didn't go straight for the throat like Jason had, but instead eased her way into interrogating him. Or rather, she started with the personal interrogation before she moved to the business one.

"Why are you helping Jason?" She demanded. "What does it do for you?"

"Uh…he's my friend? And I'm kind of the reason he's here, so I thought it was only fair that I at least let him fit in some?" Percy gave an awkward one-shoulder shrug. "Honestly, it was no skin off my back."

"It's an eight-grand suit! And yours is like—"

"About the same, but I got most of my fittings beforehand." He said. "Again, no skin off my back."

"You live in a lighthouse."

"Yeah, I can also survive the crushing depths of the ocean, Miss McLean." Percy laughed. "I've seen things you could never imagine, and I've found things that make me rich. I live in the lighthouse because I grew up there, not because I have nowhere else. Why, for all you know, I have a penthouse in this city."

And just like that, she was a reporter and not a friend's friend.

"Do you have a penthouse in the city?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny." He grinned. "But if I did have a penthouse in the city, and I'm not saying I do, it would have to have a great view of the beach. Really just…taking in the ocean. Unobstructed by anything else."

"I honestly can't tell if you're serious or not, and I don't like that." Piper frowned at him.

"I know, your heartrate picked up a few beats. Either you're flustered, which you're not, or you're annoyed, which you are." He told her. She blinked at him in surprise. "What, you didn't know I could hear your heartbeat?"

"I didn't know you could hear any better than the average person!" She exclaimed. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"Oh, jeez…I think it started developing when I was ten or eleven, and pretty much fully developed by the time I was fifteen." He said.

"You didn't get your powers all at once?"

"No, it's a lot like muscles. I had to use them more and more to train them. Well, except for my skin, that was pretty much tough from the get-go. Everything else, the strength, the hearing, the speed, it all came from hard work and determination."

"And from Fredrick Chase helping you." Piper pointed out. Percy stopped dead in his tracks, and she immediately realised she had made a mistake. "I—"

"Thank you for the dance, but I need to get going." He said coldly, detaching from her and walking right to the bar. The bartender's eyes widened almost comically as she saw him, and he graced her with a smile. "What rum do you have?"

"We have a ten-year bottle of Bacardi, a twelve-year bottle of Diplomatico, and a Santa Teresa 1796." She said. "Personally, I think the Santa Teresa is the best, but it all depends on what you want, sir."

"Percy, please." He smiled again. "I'll try the Santa Teresa, then. On the rocks."

"Coming right up." She smiled back, before placing the glass down in front of him, placing the ice-cube in, and pouring the rum over it. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Percy said, before sliding her a hundred-dollar bill. "I know you'll be busy with everyone else, but when I come back, mind refilling this for me?"

"Oh! Yes, absolutely." She beamed at him. "Thank you so much!"

"What's your name?" He asked. "Or are you not supposed to tell us?"

"It's Abigail." She told him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm a bartender downtown. Normally I don't see anyone this rich around, but the job was posted, and I was accepted, so here I am."

"Are you in college?"

"San Francisco State." She proclaimed proudly. "Go Gators."

"Go Gators." He chuckled. "Have a good evening, Abigail."

He made it six steps before Jason stepped into his path.

"Piper's freaking out." He said simply. "She thinks that you're going to…I don't even know, flood her house, ruin her career. Something like that. You were pretty harsh."

"No, I wasn't." Percy replied bluntly. "I could have been a lot worse. I could have a lot of things that would make me seem like a ruthless sociopath at best, and a bloodthirsty psychopath at worst. I think the fact that neither of those things happened is a good indication that I wasn't remotely close to harsh, Jason."

"Look, she didn't know—"

"That mentioning the man who got my mother killed would upset me?" Percy scoffed. "Don't insult me. It was calculated, and she realised she screwed up the math really fast. I've been very generous with the amount of information I give your paper, but I can stop that at any minute. I might make a good story, but I'm a person first, and I won't be toyed with for a headline. I left because it was the smart thing to do, Jason, not because I was trying to be hurtful. Now, I'm going to finish my drink and then get another. Maybe if I've had enough by the time this thing ends, I might feel tipsy."

He pushed past him, making sure to put some effort into it, but Jason stood his ground, and the result was the two men side by side. Good, it was time he showed some backbone, but there was a time and place.

"Remember where you are." Percy reminded him quietly. "This isn't the place to get into it with me."

With that, Jason let him pass, and Percy continued onto the bar, downing his drink as he walked. When he reached it, Abigail was ready with a second drink, quickly prepared and waiting for him.

"Thanks, Abigail." Percy said. "What do you study?"

"Oh! I study architecture." She said proudly. "I know it's not very exciting compared to the stuff you do, but I find it fascinating."

"Don't say that, if you find enjoyment in what you do, it's always exciting." He laughed. "My best friend growing up wanted to be an architect. Have you ever visited the St. Louis Arch or Hoover Dam?"

"I've been to the dam but not the arch." She shook her head. "I'd love to go one day though. Paris is the place I really want to visit, but it's so damn expensive."

"I'm sure you'll get there soon." Percy said. "I mean, a gig like this is bound to make you some crazy tips."

Just to prove his point, he slid another hundred across the bar as he downed his second drink, winking at Abigail. The poor girl was so flustered it took her a moment to make his third drink, and her face was flushed red as she handed it over. "Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Just keep at it and you'll make it to Paris one day. From what I hear, it's a beautiful city, so you can't—"

He was interrupted by someone snapping loudly a few seats away from him. Percy blinked twice before turning and seeing some man about his age leaning impatiently against the bar, a small posse gathered around him.

"Hey, lady, we need drinks here." The guy snapped before turning back to his friends. Abigail went red in the face again, but this time, it was a different kind of embarrassment.

"We were talking," Percy said mildly. "And show her some respect. She's not your servant."

"Yeah, whatever buddy." The guy rolled his eyes. "You can flirt with the help later, she can serve us now. Champagne, the most expensive one you have."

Abigail went to go find it, but Percy held out a hand, and she stopped in her tracks. He hopped off his stool and turned to the group.

"What's your name?" He asked. The douchebag stopped talking to his friends and turned to Percy with a sneer.

"Ian Halcroft." He said, clearly amused with Percy. "What's it to you?"

"I'm trying to decide if breaking your jaw is worth the PR mess." Percy told him evenly. "So far, I'm not that worried about it."

"Who the hell do you think you are, tough guy?" Halcroft laughed. "Some hero coming to rescue a damsel in distress? Please, she's some blue-collar girl picked because she's pretty to look at."

"Uh, Ian, you might want to—" One of the groupies said, eyeing Percy warily, but Halcroft raised a hand to shut him up.

"No, seriously, I want to know who you think you are to talk to me like I should care." He said. "I'm Chief of Operations for the Halcroft Group. What are you, some mid-level manager for one of Solace's subsidiaries?"

"Nope." Percy replied with a grin. "I don't work for Will. I don't work for anyone, even. See, I've found that not listening to other people gives me a lot of freedom to do what I want. I'm able to look at insecure jackasses like you and know that I can insult you freely, because there's no one in the world who can or wants to stop me. What you don't understand is no one cares about garbage like you. Chief of Operations for the Halcroft Group? Considering your last name is in the company name, I'm willing to bet you're related to the owner. Probably his son, which means you got this job because your daddy wanted you to. I'm willing to bet that you're completely unqualified for the job, and that your second does most of the actual business. I'm also willing to bet that daddy knows this, which is why he tries to keep you out of a lot of the actual day-to-day business. He sends you to events like this so that you don't get bored, right?"

Halcroft was getting redder and redder by the moment, and Percy knew he almost had him.

"You surround yourself with people who are scared of you, either because you physically intimidate them or financially intimidate them." He continued. "I can see you're thinking about doing something rash. I promise you that you'll find yourself alone when you take a swing at me, because all those guys are smarter than you by miles. You're going to embarrass yourself publicly and then you're going to spend months if not years trying to make it up. And every time you think you've recovered, someone will be there, to remind you about the time that you got humiliated by the son of a lighthouse owner."

Like a switch being flicked, Halcroft swung at him, a wild haymaker that Percy could have avoided easily if he wanted to. But he didn't want to. He wanted to teach the entitled prick a lesson, and he knew it was going to be a good one. Halcroft's fist connected with his jaw, and Percy heard at least two of his knuckles break on contact. He cried out in pain and cradled his hand, and that was when Percy saw that he had tucked his thumb, and probably broken it as well. What a moron. He didn't even know how to throw a punch properly.

"You forgot to ask me my name." Percy leaned in. "Big mistake. Your friend that tried to stop you? He knew who I was. The others figured it out pretty quickly too, but you're so damn stupid you didn't stop to think who would stand up to you, did you? You just saw a challenge to your fragile ego and had to do something. Well congratulations, dumbass, you've punched well above your weight class. When you go crying to daddy asking for a lawsuit, remember to tell him you picked a fight with Percy Jackson."

He reached down and flicked Halcroft on the bridge of the nose, breaking it immediately. It took so little effort but inflicted so much pain. Halcroft began crying almost immediately, so Percy looked up to his posse. "You guys want to get him out of here, or can I have the honour? It's been a while since I threw someone from a building…only he might not survive it."

"We'll take him, Mister Jackson, sir." One of the men stepped forward. "So sorry for ruining your evening."

Then they dragged Halcroft away from the room, the crowd that had been watching silently turning their focus to Percy. He just smiled, shrugged, and turned back to Abigail, who was staring at him with wide, teary eyes.

"I think I might be in love." She blurted out when he sat back down in his seat.

"Easy there, tiger, we just met." He laughed. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"Are you kidding? That was the absolute most awesome way I've ever seen a rude guest dealt with." She gushed. "But, uh, I don't think I'm going to get much more business tonight. Oh shoot, that's Bianca di Angelo!"

Percy swivelled in his stool as Bianca wheeled her way to him, an exasperated look on her face.

"Having fun?" She asked.

"Time of my life. Insulting rich, entitled jackasses is a balm to my middle-class soul." He grinned. "Just so you know, he swung first, so really, I was only defending myself."

"Oh believe me, there are four cameras and at least sixty witnesses who saw him swing first." Bianca said. "But they also saw the verbal abuse you put Ian Halcroft through. I'm not sure whether to kick you out of the party or host it in your honour."

"I'll leave it to your discretion, but can I get a drink first? I'm pretty thirsty after that."

"How many would this be?" Bianca asked Abigail, who suddenly looked very nervous. "It's not a trap, and remember, I control your paycheck."

"This would be four." Percy answered for her. "But I'm wired differently, biologically speaking. I'd need a lot more than four fingers of rum to get me even the slightest bit buzzed."

"Uh-huh." Bianca rolled her eyes. "Serve him another and keep an eye on him. If he seems to be lying about his tolerance, cut him off."

"Yes ma'am." Abigail nodded fervently. "Absolutely."

"You should talk to Will about sending her to Paris." Percy said, and Abigail squeaked in surprise. "She's an architecture major."

"Why would Will want to send her to Paris?" Bianca frowned.

"Well, aside from allowing Ian Halcroft to—what were the words you used? 'Verbally abuse' her at work? It's a philanthropic thing. It's not like he doesn't have the money." Percy grinned at Bianca. "Just think about it. Oh, and before I forget…"

Percy pulled out another six hundred dollars and placed them on the bar. "For your Paris Trip fund. Now, I need to change. If I'm going to give a speech on pollution in the ocean, I want it to be clear that I'm doing it as me, not some prick in a suit."

"Oh for God's sake." Bianca pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are an actual nightmare, Percy Jackson."

"Good. It means I haven't lost my touch." He chuckled. "Seriously, though, send this girl to Paris."

XXX

An hour and a half later, Percy had given an impassioned speech on the situation of trash in the ocean, fielded a half-dozen questions about his encounter with Liam Aldridge or whatever his name was, and had four more fingers of rum, with the grand total of his tips to young Abigail rounding out somewhere around fifteen hundred dollars. Bianca had told him to stop tipping her, because he was making the other guests look bad, but he just shrugged and reminded her that it was his money, and he wanted to give it to the bartender. It also meant he was completely out of cash, but that wasn't really something he was concerned about.

The fact he wore armour hadn't gone unnoticed, and that had led to him fielding more questions about his wardrobe change. It had been refreshing to be completely honest then, that him wearing a suit was a concession he had made to be polite to the dress standard, but if he was needed to speak, he was going to do it as himself, and that meant wearing his armour. It was as much a part of him as the Trident, or even his strength. Pretending otherwise was an insult. That had seemed to make some people nervous, and he was willing to bet either Jason or Reyna would speak to him later about a 'militant outlook,' but frankly, he didn't care. As much as anything else, wearing his armour was a cultural thing for him as well. The scale-mail was the essentially the Atlantean Royal Dress Uniform, and by wearing it he honoured his family. Even if no one else knew that, Percy did.

It was close to midnight when he finally made it outside, and immediately he was confronted by the flashes of dozens of cameras. He let out an annoyed grunt before fiddling with his gauntlet. It took less than a second to fry all the cameras pointed at him, and it was well worth it. Percy could handle paparazzi, to an extent, but he'd had his fill of them tonight. He ignored the protests and exclamations, and instead made the three leaps necessary to reach the ocean. The beach was, thankfully, fairly deserted, and after planting the Trident into the sand, he sat down, staring out into the darkness of the ocean. He was able to enjoy the peace and quiet for half an hour before his communicator went off.

"Percy?" Annabeth sounded…tired, oddly enough. Which made sense, it being the middle of the night and all. "What are you doing? There's footage of you just sitting on the beach looking sad."

"How would you know that?" Percy asked, though he had a feeling he knew what the answer was.

"That's not important." Annabeth deflected, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"I think it is, actually." He insisted. "Annabeth…do you have notifications for when I'm around?"

"No!" She insisted quickly. Then, after a moment, "okay, yes. But just so I know where you are!"

"Why, Annabeth, it's almost like you care." He teased. She responded with a long string of swearing that would make any sailor proud. "I'm not sad, just reflective. You worried about me?"

"There's a Waffle House about ten minutes east from you, and twenty from me. Traffic's light enough I can meet you there, if you want?" Annabeth offered tentatively. Percy considered it for a moment, before nodding to himself.

"Okay. Meet you there." He said. "Don't be late."

"I'll do my best." She laughed, before ending the call. Percy pulled himself to his feet before retrieving the Trident.

He had a diner to get to.

MMXXI

Another chapter down, another rich person offended by Percy. Will this come back to haunt him in the future? Who knows? Probably yes. I don't have much to say other than leave a review and/or send me a PM.

AN2: I just wanted to add an edit in, because I'm not sure if I already said it, but I've written this story up to Chapter 35/14 for this story at the time of posting this chapter, and am working on Chapter 36/15, so I already know where this story is heading at this point. That doesn't mean I don't want to hear what you have to say, but remember that I'm way ahead of y'all when it comes to plot.

Cheers, CombatTombat