To RandomFanAuthor- What do you mean giraffes don't exist? And she is NOT, I'm too lazy :P

To someone- I know, can't believe it D:

Jason rubbed at his temples, grimacing. Morris glowered at him sidelong, beside him in the lunch queue.

"Just give." He requested again, irritation thickening his tone. Jason ignored him, sliding his tray along. Morris was right there, shouldering him. "Why won't you give me her number?"

"She doesn't have one."

"That's bull and you know it."

"I don't have one." Jason pointed out. "We can't have them." He got a bewildered look for that one. At breakfast, Morris had been quiet. Jason had hoped he had been deterred, but it seemed the idiot came back out of sheer spite and stubbornness.

"What'd you mean you can't have them?"

"Can't tell you that. Would have to kill you." Morris laughed, although it was short lived when he realised Jason wasn't joking. "Even if she did have a number, I wouldn't let you have it."

"And why not?"

"Mm. How would Lou put it?" He selected a pudding, humming in thought. "Maybe something along the lines of 'you're a whiny motherfucker who doesn't understand no'." Angry red splotches appeared on Morris's cheekbones. Jason smirked. "I mean, she's a lot more creative than I am, I'm just paraphrasing." He turned away, surveying the canteen for somewhere to sit. Rajah and a few of their other classmates weren't too far away, so Jason squashed himself next to them.

Morris followed.

Jason sighed. "You just don't take a hint, do you?"

"Is he still trying to get her number?" Rajah asked carefully.

"Yes."

"You said she doesn't have one."

"Yes."

"Who's number?" Oscar pressed, leaning forward. Rajah recounted the story for him. "Oooh, I was wondering what happened to your face." Oscar gave a lopsided smile. "Good for her." Jason scrunched his nose. The bruise left an ache through his jaw- even eating aggravated it.

Oscar looked to Morris, arching an eyebrow at him. "Not cool, dude. Back off the nice scary lady."

"With a girlfriend." Rajah added.

"With a girlfriend?" Oscar turned his inquisitive look on Jason, who nodded. "With a girlfriend. You're not her type, man, just leave it alone." Morris fumed quietly. Oscar snorted. "Aww, someone's not used to being turned down, are they?"

"Shut up." Morris spat. Oscar just grinned at him.

Jason considered his shepherd's pie. Either side of Oscar sat the twins, Terry and Perry, (their parents thought it was funny). They butted into the conversation too, talking in a two-part harmony and shutting Morris down some more.

"Clearly not good enough for her anyway-"

"-as if Jason would let you anywhere near his cousin-"

"-seems like a woman who knows her own mind-"

"-look what she did to Jason's face-"

"-and he's family-"

"-imagine what she'd do to you!" They finished together, grinning wicked identical grins. Jason nodded at them appreciatively. Morris glowered at them, stabbing at his meal. Perry tapped his finger on the table, regarding Jason. "Why did she smack you? What did you do?"

"Something stupid."

"Wow, that answers everything." Terry deadpanned.

"What was it?" Oscar asked.

"Was she there?" Rajah squeaked. It seemed, in the thirty seconds he had been in Louisa's presence, she had instilled in him a profound fear of her.

"She was. For some of it." Jason wasn't sure how he could put evil Roman emperors and luxury yacht armadas and an ex-god with a combat ukulele into relative, mortal sense, so he just shrugged unhelpfully. Noises of complaint rose up around him, he got kicked under the table by one of the twins. "I'm not telling!" He insisted.

"Why?" Morris grunted, finally finding his voice. "You'll have to kill us?" He mocked.

"No." Jason shook his head, heaping shepherd's pie onto his fork. "Lou will. And trust me, she'll enjoy it."

"OK, OK, OK," Oscar waved at him, "can she be my new best friend?"

"No."

"Oh, come on! I'm way better than Morris and I'm not even asking for her number!" He pouted at Jason. Jason continued to eat, now pretending he could not hear this conversation. "Jason. Jason. Jason. Oy, Grace!" He simmered. "I can see why she smacked you."

"I thought you said they travel in pairs?" Apollo shriek-whispered.

"Or threes." Don mumbled dejectedly. "Sometimes in threes." Apollo wanted to throw something at the faun's head, but nothing came to hand. The eurynomoi snarled, crouching just beyond the reach of Meg's weapons. Lavinia began to hand-crank her manubalista, but it was tedious weapon to prime. Hazel drew her spatha with a rasping sound of metal, but it was not a sword for close quarters. Louisa finally began to notice things, grinning broadly.

"Hazel!" She called, swinging out her free arm for a hug. "Who's your favourite Ninja Turtle?"

"Lou," Hazel forced a smile, "we'll talk Ninja Turtles later, OK? We have to deal with this first."

"Deal with what?" Louisa puzzled. Don gently turned her head. "Ah." She said. "I thought the bad smell was still Lester."

"Why do I even bother?" Apollo grumbled.

Meg hesitated, debating if she should charge, stand her ground or drop from exhaustion. Apollo fumbled for a weapon, coming up with something as equally ridiculous as a spatha and a manubalista- a ukulele.

"FOOD!" The first ghoul screeched.

"FOOD!" The second agreed.

"We fought these in the battle; don't let them scratch you." Hazel informed grimly. Apollo's ears pricked at the word 'battle'. He recalled what Leo had said back in Los Angeles, before they smuggled Louisa onto a plane- Camp Jupiter had suffered major damage, lost good people in their last fight. With sinking realisation and a look at the still woozy Louisa, Apollo was beginning to realise how bad things had been.

"No scratches." Apollo agreed. "Meg, keep them distracted. I'm going to try a song." He had no time to place his fingers on the strings, the ghouls already voicing their disgust of ukuleles. They howled and charged. Apollo startled, crashing backwards into Don, who shrieked and cowered, tackling Louisa so they could both hide on the floor. Lavinia kept cranking her weapon.

"Make a hole!" Hazel yelled, throwing confusion over them. Meg sprinted forward, slashing an arm from one of the beasts. She swiped at the legs of the other. Her movements were rough and bone-tired, too slow. Had the ghouls wanted to, she would have been swamped and killed in a second. However, they were more concerned with Apollo and stopping his music.

"FOOD!" The one-armed ghoul screamed, hurtling at the former god with its remaining claws. Apollo reacted too slowly, blaming his flabby mortal body. The eurynomos cast its hand across his midsection, narrowly missing the musical instrument. A single claw tore through his shirt and seared across his stomach like a dull razor blade. Apollo toppled sideways, warm blood seeping into the material of his clothes.

Hazel screamed, outraged and defiant. She launched herself over him, driving her spatha through the ghoul's clavicle. It wailed, pained and injured, lurching backwards. The spatha was wrenched from her grip, the wound smoking where the Imperial gold had entered. It had a final few seconds to glare at them and then it exploded, crumbling into a steaming pile of rotten-smelling ashes. The spatha smacked the floor with an echoing clang.

The second ghoul had been occupied with Meg, snarling as one does at an annoying twelve-year-old stabbing at their legs. As soon as it noticed the fate of its comrade, it spun to face the others. It gave Meg an opening to dispatch it, but she merely shoved it over and hurried to Apollo's side, twin blades shrinking into golden rings.

"You OK? Oh, no, you got scratched! You said don't get scratched!"

"I didn't plan on it, Meg!"

"Guys!" Lavinia yelled warningly. Her manubalista was only half-primed, Don was still cowering, Louisa was giggling to herself and waving her hands as if orchestrating a concert on the ceiling, the ghoul stood between Hazel and her spatha. Meg and Apollo were wedged against the wall. Hazel was the only defence between the eurynomoi and a five-course meal.

The creature hissed, head cocking, a twitch passing through its stinking frame.

"You cannot win." It hissed. The group tensed at the change in voice. Even Louisa looked up, a confused seriousness washing over her features. Its tone had become deeper, its volume controlled. "You will join your comrades in my tomb."

"Who are you?" Hazel demanded, fists clenching. "Stop hiding behind these creatures and show yourself!" The eurynomos blinked, the milky white of its eyes flooding purple and glowing.

"Hazel Levesque." It mused. "You off all people should understand the fragile boundary between life and death. But don't be afraid. I will save a special place for you at my side, along with your beloved Frank. You will make glorious skeletons." Hazel's shoulders set defiantly. She glanced back, her expression more frightening than the monster's.

"Get back." She said. "As far as you can."

Meg half-dragged Apollo towards the others, sending molten lava screaming through the wound in his gut. Lavinia snatched Don by the scruff of his shirt, yanking him from the floor so they could pull Louisa up together. Her jovial deliriousness had gone. Now, she squashed her hands over her ears, yelling and twisting, stumbling from their grasp.

"Don't touch me, don't touch me!" She pleaded.

"Lou, come here!" Lavinia and Don tried to catch her, backing up when green sparks flashed over her hands. Louisa whined, hopping from foot to foot and brandishing her hands frantically, as if that would rid them of her power.

"Mm. Not so formidable now, are we, seaspawn?" The ghoul mused. He took a step towards her. Hazel was there.

"You'll leave her alone." She defied, bristling with fury.

"How will you defeat me, Hazel?" The ghoul chuckled. "With this?" He kicked the spatha further away behind him. Apollo struggled to stand- he couldn't leave her by herself. Lavinia grabbed his shoulder, shaking her head.

"Hazel's got this." She said. Apollo's brow furrowed at the obvious display of ridiculous optimism. To his shame, he stayed put. More blood soaked into his underwear, or at least what he hoped was blood.

The eurynomos wiped drool from its mouth with one clawed finger.

"Unless you intended to run and abandon that one," he pointed a talon at Louisa, who was now smacking the wall, demanding to be let out, oblivious to the rest of them, "you might as well surrender. We are strong underground, daughter of Pluto. Too strong for you."

"Is that so?" Hazel's voice was steady. She spread her hands. The tunnel began to shake. Cracks ricocheted through the walls, fissures sparking out in jagged lines. Beneath the ghoul's feet, a column of white quartz erupted, skewering the monster against the ceiling. Dust and vulture feathers pattered down.

Hazel turned as if nothing cool had happened. "Don, Lavinia. Get her…" She eyed Louisa uneasily. "Get her out of here. You," she pointed at Meg, "help your friend, please. We have healers at camp that can deal with that scratch."

"Wait!" Apollo made a T with his hands. "What was that? Its voice-"

"I've seen that happen before with a ghoul." Hazel said solemnly. "I'll explain later. You lot get going, I'll follow in a sec." Apollo began to protest, silenced by a single shake of her head. "I'm just going to get my sword and make sure they can't follow us." Rubble seeped from new cracks in the ceiling.

Apollo had to lean on Meg, stumbling over his own feet. Lavinia and Don ignored Louisa's protests and squashed her between them. She kicked and protested, swearing and threatening them in Latin and Greek, but they pushed on. They tripped and staggered and squeezed their way along about fifty feet of tunnel when the rumbling behind them grew exponentially. Apollo looked back in concern just in time to get smacked in the face by billowing debris.

"Hazel?" Lavinia called back. There was tense, scary second, and then Hazel emerged, coughing and covered in glittering powdered quartz. Her sword glowed in hand.

"I'm fine." She assured, a little wheezy. "But no-one's going to be sneaking out that way anymore." She wiped at her face. "Now," she said, "does someone care to explain why you have Louisa?"