Thank you to all of you that followed this story, it's been a very positive return to the fandom for me after what's been an eternity away. Hopefully you enjoy the direction I'm taking with this, and without further ado, here's Chapter 2.

Chapter 2

As it turned out, Miss Chase certainly had sent a plan. A rather comprehensive one. So comprehensive, in fact, that Percy wondered if he needed to bother with a script. It all looked incredibly professional, with sections and sub-sections, all in different colours that the ADHD within Percy found incredibly pleasing and easy to follow. He was glad for the business email account. He couldn't imagine the composer of such a work finding his personal email account either professional or amusing. 'TheLittleBlueMerman ' didn't exactly scream "I'm someone you want to work with".

"Woah, she even has a tour plan. Intense." Grover said, reading over Percy's shoulder as they hunched over his desk. Percy scanned down the order, nose wrinkling.

"Yeah, but look at the way she wants to go round. It's so convoluted and weird. I get starting in the main lobby, but the Mediterranean section first? Really?"

He turned to see Grover smiling.

"What?"

"Not sure how happy this lady's gonna be at you criticising her plan, but it's something to put in your 'script' at least."

Yeah, Percy could imagine that going down real well. Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Percy, and you're wrong about this whole thing but I don't have a script to correct you with, sorry. Awesome.

"We'll shelve that bridge 'til we burn it."

"… What?"

"No idea. This whole thing is a train wreck, felt like the idiom should be too."

"Idiom? Fancy word for someone who barely passed English in high school."

Percy swung half-heartedly at his best friend, who dodged with a practiced ease. He levelled a glare at Grover's smug face, but it was forced.

"Ok, ok, I'll lay off a little. But what's the plan? I can keep you in that chair and make you read this thing 'til your eyes bleed, but you're the one that has to come up with the ideas."

"You couldn't keep me in this chair if you tried. You did once, remember?"

"Yeah, and I settled for locking you in the room instead. I'll do it again."

"You wouldn't." Percy gasped, hand flying to his heart.

"Sometimes the easiest choices require the strongest of wills." Grover said, a grave tone creeping into his voice.

"You completely butchered that quote."

"Sue me. It's been a while since I watched it. On second thought, you have better lawyers than me. Don't sue me."

"I do. And I could. But I won't. You're still useful to me."

"Oh gee, thanks."

"What can I say? I'm all heart."

"Yeah, if I was anything remotely aquatic maybe."

"As it is, you're not. Which sucks. I'd love it if my best friend was secretly some kinda mythological hybrid. But you'd make a terrible mermaid."

"It's the hair isn't it? I knew I should have grown it out."

"Absolutely not. Juniper would kill you."

"She would."

"Besides, you can't sing for shit. Mermaids can."

"I thought that was sirens?"

"You're telling me Ariel was a siren? I think the fuck not."

"Ok I was talking mythology. You're talking shit."

"How dare you."

"Ok as much as I would love to debate the finer points of mythology versus Disney, you need to stop distracting yourself and get this done."

"But Groooover…"

"Nope. That's not working this time. I'm implementing my new 'tough love' policy as of right now. I'm locking the office door behind me and I'll bring you lunch in a couple of hours. Have fun."

And he actually did it. The traitor had the gall to follow through with his plan. Gall. That was a funny word. Not one Percy used often. Maybe that dictionary he'd bought to help with his college essays had actually helped. Gall. Rhymed with ball, drawl, shawl… And he was drawing blanks. Definitely not the start of a promising music career then. Work it was.

But Chase's document looked so big and daunting. Is that what she said? Probably not. But it was long. Ok that was what she said. Percy snorted to himself, absently scrolling through the exhaustive list of things that Chase wanted to cover in the mini-series. He didn't need Grover; his own thoughts were amusing enough.

(Line break)

Thirty minutes later, Percy had decided that he did need Grover.

He had run out of distraction material; the only downside of never using the office was that he had nothing in there of any interest. All he had to show for any attempt at work was a notepad page with the title 'Doc Ideas' at the top. The problem wasn't coming up with ideas. Percy had plenty of thoughts. But none of them fit with the schedule that Chase had sent. Whenever Percy attempted to zero in on a specific section of the document, his first idea took him off on a tangent, and by the time he recovered and loosely brought his mind back on track, he realised that the previously wondrous idea simply wouldn't work with the plan.

Should he wing it? It was definitely what he was best at. Percy Jackson worked best under loose operating conditions. No plan was always the best plan. Somehow, he got the feeling that the film crew wouldn't see it that way. He was screwed.

An hour passed. And then two. Percy accumulated a handful of ideas on his page. More observations, really. What he thought worked about the schedule and what didn't. Where he would want more emphasis placed and parts they should mostly skip over. The whole thing was so… uniform. It felt constrained, too orderly. More like a PowerPoint than a free-flowing documentary.

"Hey, how's it going?"

Percy pretended to ignore Grover for almost a minute before he caught the smell of coffee and food. Any resistance quickly crumbled.

"Badly." He said, reaching for the tray his friend carried.

"Seriously? But there's literally nothing in here to distract you! Your dad and brother specifically decorated your office so that you'd do work in here!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I mean, oh no, that's so horrible Perce, I hope you get better ideas soon!"

"You said that like you were reading a cue card with a gun to your head."

"Shut up."

"Not until I find out why you collaborated with public enemy number one to make my office boring."

"Public enemy number one? Really? What about BP? Amazon? Any major business that contributes to global warming or pollutes the sea? Terrorists? Does Triton really climb to the top of that list?"

"… You're a bitch."

"I know."

Percy sighed, shaking his head.

"There's just too much going on here, man. I can't wrap my head around this schedule. I just wanna talk about my animals and then get the hell off screen."

"Ok, ok. I'll help you come up with a basic plan. Geez you're bad at this."

"You don't have to tell me, dude."

"Hey, it's not everyday we find something you're bad at."

"Yeah, because I play to my strengths." Percy said around a mouthful of food. Grover wrinkled his nose.

"You mean you're too scared to try new things?"

"No."

"There's onion in that sandwich."

Percy spat the entire mouthful back into the box.

"You didn't."

"No, but I was right, you hate trying new things."

"Shut up and help me write this thing."

The following hours were pure hell for the pair, but at the end of it they had a semi-workable, barely passable, attempt at a script. It wouldn't hold a candle to any real documentary, but Percy figured it was a good attempt considered he'd never tried writing a script before. He'd practiced speeches and workshopped stuff with the employees that were going to be giving talks when the aquarium was fully open, but they didn't need to be rigid and unwavering like he suspected this one did.

"I still don't get why someone else isn't doing this thing." He grumbled hours later, sat in a local bar. He'd gone for the Marvel school of camouflage; a simple hoodie and a cap, some empty-framed glasses on his face. It worked surprisingly well.

"Yeah, I guess it is weird." Grover said, rubbing his chin as the bartender handed over their drinks. "You covering me tonight or not?"

"Jeez, you're such a freeloader." Percy teased, flashing his friend a grin as he passed his card over the reader.

"We both know the only reason I hang out with you is for your money. Don't even pretend it's not."

"Wow, twelve years of friendship ended in one blow. Harsh, G-man."

"Hate to break it to you, but it's only just been eleven."

"Really? But twelve years sounds so much better. You've already done your waiting."

"If you quote Prisoner of Azkaban again, I swear to all that is holy…"

Percy deflated, foiled by his friend once again.

"It's your fault, you know. You and Juniper insisted on that marathon. And it just had to happen at my place."

"Well, yeah, my place didn't have a theatre room."

"Screw you."

They touched bottles, taking a hearty swig. Nothing like a cold beer after a hard day's work.

"You think she's hot?" Percy said, once they'd finished.

"Who?" Grover craned his neck to see who his friend was staring at.

"Miss Chase. You think she'll be hot?"

Grover sighed. For a man that cherished his mother and knew exactly how to behave in front of a woman because of it, Percy sure sounded like an ass sometimes.

"I dunno dude, I hope not, for both our sakes. If I have to put up with you mooning over any of the film crew, I'll pitch myself into the sharks."

"That'd be hardcore dude, you hate water."

"And yet I put up with you. That should say things about our friendship."

"It does. You're attracted to what you fear." Percy said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Grover laughed.

"Hardly. You're not my type."

"You're right, I'm not named after a flower."

"Junipers are more trees and bushes."

"Ok, explain Daisy, or Rose, or Lily, or Iris. And wasn't there a Blossom or something?"

"No way in Hades was there a Blossom. You're drunk."

"Nope. But you were. Very, as I remember it. Ah, college. What memories."

"Ok let's not talk about my past hook-ups. Please? I'm a very happy man with Juniper, thank you very much." Grover said, taking another sip of his beer and staring at the TV. The bar had the NBA on. The Knicks weren't playing, so Percy wasn't too interested.

"Ok, fair enough. You think I can get in with the piranhas tomorrow?"

Grover managed to hold off a sit-com style spit-take. Percy was impressed.

"What!? You're insane!" Grover gasped, finally swallowing the drink he'd just taken.

"Nu-uh! Piranhas have been proven to ignore living things within inches of them in certain seasons and according to how long they've gone without food."

"Ok, I saw River Monsters too. I get it. But there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near that tank! Have you not forgotten that literally hours ago you got yelled at by your dad for swimming with much less bloodthirsty fish?"

"Please, dad doesn't care. He never reviews the security tapes. Neither does Triton. That place is my baby, and they know it. He only yelled because he was there in person. He wouldn't have known if he wasn't coming to badger me about the script."

"Ok, no piranhas. No fish with teeth. Actually, no fish. I am not being held responsible for you getting in any water that isn't the hotel swimming pool."

Percy gasped, shooting a scandalized look at his friend.

"Not even the penguins?" He even threw the puppy eyes in for good measure. He could see Grover wavering as he struggled to hold the stare.

"Fine. Penguins might be an exception."

"Yes!"

(Line break)

"I can't believe Mr. Jackson is flying us private! And direct, too! No airport hold-up for us!" Silena gushed, her carry-on trailing behind her. She looked every bit the glamour model taking a vacation. Annabeth was only slightly jealous. She just didn't have Silena's effortless grace.

"It is very generous." She conceded, knowing that the man must be desperate for a positive spin on the documentary. What he had to be worried about, she couldn't figure out. All preview reviews were coming back full of nothing but praise. Then again, they would if he'd treated the journalists and A-Lister's this way.

The rest of their motley crew trailed behind, the heavy equipment already in the hold of the private jet. They were moderately sized for a documentary, only the nine of them. She could have taken more, her mother had offered a further twelve people, but Annabeth preferred to keep her operation tight-knit. She trusted this team, and she'd done more with less. These were the only people necessary for the filming, everything else could be done from the office. Besides, she wasn't sure how Poseidon Jackson would take to having to house twenty or so of her crew. She could do without the logistical nightmare it would present, too.

She was nervous, if she had to admit it. The future of her Greece project depended on this thing, and the unknown variable of their presenter was doing little to ease her worries. He still had yet to send her a script, which irked her. Though there wasn't necessarily a deadline. Almost an entire month to film? Even if they made a four-part-special they'd still have time to spare. It still bothered her that he hadn't even bothered to reply to her email. No "Dear Miss Chase, thank you so much, looking forward to working with you", not even a "Hi Annabeth, see you on set". It was downright rude.

Then again, her preliminary research into Perseus Jackson had almost been enough to put her off going altogether, Greece be damned. Photos of him stumbling out of nightclubs, ruining his dad's galas, and generally acting out in public plastered the internet after only a few quick Google searches. But then she'd seen the pictures of him in private. The moments he thought no one was looking. Hugging and laughing with his mother over dinner in some restaurant. The pride in his eyes in the photo in front of the aquarium. The vague article about him dragging a shark back into the ocean by its tail. At least she thinks that last one is him. The boy is unnamed but the photo is uncanny. Definitely an unknown variable.

At least it was a short flight. Much better than a commercial one into the airport and then an hour or so drive on top. The seatbelt light dinged, and their captain's voice sounded over the speakers.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, we're nearly ready for our landing at Poseidon's Palace private airstrip. If you look to your left, you'll see the hotel in which you'll be staying, complete with an artificial private beach with a wave-pool, a restaurant and nightlife strip in which guests can immerse themselves, and a plethora of villas and private pools." Annabeth craned her neck, along with everyone else, and couldn't help but be impressed at the metropolis before her.

"And on your right, those rolling hills there are completely artificial, created to cover up the aquarium in a bid to make everything look a little less man-made and blend into the landscape better. In amongst those flowers atop the fields are the solar panels that supply nearly seventy percent of the resort and aquarium's power. If you'd please fasten your seatbelts we can begin to descend. Thank you for flying with us."

Annabeth already knew all of that, but it was still interesting to hear it again while she got a chance to view the place from the air. A lot of money had gone into building this. Probably too much. It reminded her faintly of a Disneyland resort, just without the mouse ears. Maybe they'd all get fish hats or something. The thought made her snort.

Poseidon himself was waiting for them on arrival, in front of what might just be the most luxurious shuttle bus Annabeth had ever seen. He stood tall and proud, crisp new suit that contrasted perfectly against his tanned, weathered skin. She could almost feel the power radiating from him, and would have stepped back had it not been for the brilliantly friendly smile on his face.

Fully aware that she was meeting the man that had been dubbed 'The King of the Seas', she stepped forward, shaking his hand firmly.

"Miss Chase, I trust the flight went well?" He asked, voice firm and polite, though not intimidating. He certainly knew how to make an impression.

"Excellently, thank you sir." She replied. "I must express my sincere thanks for all the trouble you've gone to. I know this can't have been cheap to organise."

He laughed, something so infectious that it brought a smile to her own face, waving her away.

"Nonsense my dear, trifles compared to the favour that you're doing for me. Now, this must be your crew?"

"Yes sir, that's Silena Beauregard, our stylist, Rachel Dare, our Director of Photography. The two at the back there are Connor and Travis Stoll, along with Leo Valdez next to them, my technicians. Then we have Clarisse La Rue and Frank Zhang, my camera crew, and finally Chris Rodriguez, my sound operator."

Credit to Poseidon, he shook every hand and asked after all of them on the way to the shuttle bus. And unlike at the galas he attended, he looked genuinely interested in the answers they all gave him. Annabeth only hoped that his son was as professional. Where was he, anyway?

Poseidon must have seen her looking around, not as subtle as she'd thought, as he chuckled and gestured towards the hotel.

"Percy will meet us at the hotel, he had some business to take care of at the aquarium."

As if on cue, the man's phone rang.

"Percy!" Poseidon answered cheerfully. "Grover?" The smile vanished. "Did he? I see. Is he ok? Will he still be at the hotel before us? Good. Tell him he's an idiot. Thank you, Grover." He shut the phone off and sighed, before smiling again.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Annabeth asked, seeing for the first time the infamous Poseidon Jackson mood-swing. Then again, he hadn't looked angry. More like, exasperated.

"Yes, everything's fine my dear. Percy gets a little… eager, when he's in the aquarium. It's hard to get him out of there at times. But he's fine, and he'll still be meeting us at the hotel."

They boarded the bus, and as they sat off Poseidon began narrating their surroundings with such gusto that it drew laughs from the crew. It was almost like being back on a field trip with the 'fun teacher'. It wasn't too long ago that most of the crew were in college; all of them were in their early twenties, if that.

"Are you sure it's your son that you want to present the documentary, sir?" Annabeth asked between chuckles. "You seem up for it yourself!"

"Please, Miss Chase, Poseidon is fine. Calling me sir makes me feel old, or makes you seem like one of my employees. As far as I'm aware, neither are true." He winked at her and she nodded, smiling.

In truth, she was impressed. She had expected the man to be cold, aloof, all business. But the person in front of her was just human. Again, she found herself hoping that the son took after the father.

(End chapter)

Thank you all for reading, feel free to review and let me know what you think. I'm open to criticism, provided it's not just being rude. Until next time!