Chapter 6: Looking

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I'm working on it. :-)

It's when you're safe at home that you wish you were having an adventure. When you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home. ~ Thorton Wilder

The train lurched to a slow and loud stop as it rolled into the Luxembourg train station in the heart of Paris, France. I reached over and elbowed Jace in the side, waking him up from his snoring filled sleep and causing him to fall off the crate he was sitting on. He jumped up with a look of alarm on his face and his fists raised.

"What's wrong, where's the danger? I can take them!" he tried to growl menacingly while eying the room we were in.

I rolled my eyes and pointed out the window. "We're in Paris you idiot. And keep quiet, the point is to not let them know we're on the train," I whispered. Jace's lips formed an 'o' shape and he sat back down.

We hadn't exactly paid for our train ticket, and the last thing we needed was to be found out while we were in Paris. After our fun filled afternoon in the park where my world was officially turned upside down, we had made our way to the nearest train station. It was really the best we could do since it would be next to impossible to sneak onto an airplane and there was no way I was walking. So if someone just happened to leave the door open on the luggage car on a train heading straight to Paris, you couldn't really blame us, could you?

I turned my head as I heard someone walking towards us. "We need to go now," I murmured as I stood up. Jace followed as I tiptoed towards the door.

"You better watch your backpack. Paris is famous for its thieves," Jace warned as I shifted it in my hands. His moss green eyes were twinkling with excitement. My grip tightened around my bag.

"I'd like to see someone try," I muttered.

"Here, let me go first," Jace offered. He crept around me and quietly opened the door just enough for him to stick his head out. "Ok… Go!" He jumped out, his coat flying behind him like a cape, leaving me scrambling behind him.

I caught up to him and we ducked into an alley, then ran to a busy street. Jace, caught up in running away, ran straight onto the path of an incoming car. I quickly reached out and grabbed his shirt roughly to pull him back. He landed on his butt and fell on the sidewalk as the car roared past us with its horn blaring. He looked up at me with his eyes widened and his face a shade paler.

"Hey, thanks man. You saved me from becoming Jace- paste," he said shakily. I shrugged and released my tight hold on his shirt.

"It's was nothing, forget about it." I looked over Jace and pointed to a spot on the ground. "Your hat fell off." Surprise on his face, he glanced at his hat balancing on the curb, about to be blown away. Jace, without hesitation, rapidly jumped up, grabbed it and shoved it over his crazy brown hair. He then shook his head to test to see if it would fly off again. Satisfied, he grinned and pointed to a bench a few feet way.

"We might as well sit down and cover everything. What a bad start to a mission though. It's a bad omen I tell yah," he told me while shaking his head. I reached down and helped him up, then turned and sat down on the bench.

"So, who exactly are we looking for?" I asked while stretching out my limbs. The luggage car hadn't exactly been spacious, so now I had cricks and sore places everywhere. Include the fact that I had gotten no sleep because of my traveling companion trying to explain the wonders of American baseball.

Jace reached down and pulled a wrinkly and dirty piece of paper out of his jacket. "Her name is Jeanne Rieu. She's fourteen, born in Paris but no confirmed address, probably lives by herself in some abandon building or in some orphanage. Her mother drowned two years ago, no other family known. Has short sandy blonde hair with brown eyes and is five foot eight. Confirmed ADHD and dyslexia. Has received several warnings from the cops for stealing but never imprisoned." He nodded to himself. "Sounds like a classic Hermes," he added before putting the paper back in his pocket.

I stared at him, confused. "A Hermes case?" I questioned.

"Her personality and appearance match those of a Hermes kid," Jace explained. "The hair, eyes, and the fact that she steals just add up to it." "You can tell who their parent is from just that?" I asked curiously.

Jace nodded. "We can tell a lot of times just from skills, appearance, and personality, but sometimes it's a little harder than that. I remember this one kid who came to camp that didn't have any real skill except for canoeing," he snorted. "Turns out that he was Poseidon's kid! I had my money on some minor god. Boy, was I wrong."

My hand absent-mindedly rubbed my bracelet as I stared at the ground. "So, could you guess who my parent is?" I asked in a low voice.

Jace looked over and examined me with a thoughtful look on his face. "I guess I could. But," he interjected, holding his hand up, "it's not my place to tell you. Someday, your parent will claim you. And judging by that little gift he or she gave you," he said while gesturing at my bracelet, "I'd say that they care about you a lot. It won't be long before someone claims you. I'd bet my Hank Aaron autographed baseball on it." Jace's smile was contagious, and before I knew it I started smiling too.

"Ok, so back to the mission," I said, putting the discussion behind me, "where exactly do we find this girl?"

Jace shrugged and stood up from the bench. "I'll just ask some of my friends. They've probably sensed her already."

I got up and followed him. "So where exactly are these friends of yours?" I inquired as we walked. He didn't answer, just sped up.

We strolled through the heart of Paris. If I had been there any other time I would have enjoyed the beauty of it. The air was thick with the smell of flowers and of pastries from the bakeries and café's lining the street. Tall buildings reached up to the clear blue sky around us and I could make out the Eiffel tower in the distance. But the best part was the sun. It hung straight over us, shining down on the cobble-stones and creating a sort of oven type feeling. For the first time in a while I took off my coat to walk through the streets. And there was no snow in sight. Part of me wanted to lie down and just enjoyed it or smell a flower or two, but the other part made me continue to follow Jace.

We were making our way through the busy crowd of Paris when Jace suddenly turned down an alley and disappeared. I stopped abruptly, causing the man behind me to crash into me and making us both fall to the ground. I helped him to his feet after apologizing a hundred times while he called me some very colorful words in French. I turned around and quickly ran down the long alley I'd seen Jace turn into, looking for the already familiar sight of an Atlanta Brave's baseball hat. The walls were dirty with graffiti and the smell of putrid of garbage lingered in the air. Contrary to the beautiful part of Paris I had just seen, this was the darker side of such a grand city. My nose wished for the smell of flowers and bread again.

As I raced down the alley, it looked like it went on forever, then it suddenly emptied out into a very large park. I saw Jace, fresh as a daisy, standing by a large grove of trees. Picking up speed, I reached him at last. I leaned over, panting heavily. My side stung a little from where my ribs were still healing from my bruises.

Jace turned around with his eyebrows raised. "What took you so long slow-poke?" he smirked. I looked up and gave him an evil eye. "If I wasn't suffocating right now… I would kill you," I said in between breaths.

"Then you wouldn't know how to get to camp," he teased.

"Details, details" I shot back. My breathing slowed and I stood upright while looking around. "So where are your friends?" I asked, "There's nothing but tree's out here."

"Well…" Jace drawled, "they were coming out, but then you had to scare them by running up here sounding like a freight train."

I shot him an annoyed look. "Really, where are they?"

Jace held out his hand and gestured to the park, "They're here," he replied. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "You guys can come out now. It's just my friend, he's a demigod," he called out.

I looked around but saw no one. Maybe his brain had been fried by the sun because I was pretty certain he wasn't talking to anything. If I thought my week couldn't get any weirder, it did now. To my surprise, people started coming out of the trees. You heard me, out of trees.

"Uh…" I managed while shooting freaked out looks at Jace.

"They're tree sprits or Nymphs," he explained, "although I prefer the term tree sprit. When people think of nymphs they think of beautiful, prancing girls and flowers, which I most certainly not."

I looked at him, puzzled.

"Well, what did you think I was?" Jace demanded, "I'm not a half-blood, and I am definitely not a satyr. I'm a tree sprit, a hemlock tree to be exact."

My vocal chords froze for a moment and I stood there dumbly. What do you say to someone who just told you they were a tree? And why do I always get into these awkward situations?

"So, I guess fires are out of the question, because you know… Trees burn," I blurted out stupidly.

Jace's eyes were tinged with more annoyance than I thought a tree could muster as he glared at me. I gave a nervous, weak laugh and took a step back. If looks could kill…

"You know, if you weren't a half-blood, I would kill you," Jace muttered finally as he turned his back to me, facing the people coming out of trees. A little girl with a flowing green dress approached us curiously.

"Bonjour," she greeted shyly with a little wave.

"Bonjour, mon amie," Jace replied with a dramatic bow, his hat threatening to fall off. "Pouvez-vous nous aider?"

I stared at him, shocked. "You speak French?"

"Oui," he replied without turning. The two tree spirits continued speaking back and forth while I stood there, not understanding a word they said. After discussing for a couple of minutes, Jace turned around. "Come on, let's go. We know where she is now." He started toward the opposite direction of where we came. I gave one last look back at the Nymphs and the little girl in the flowing dress. As I watched, they slowly melted back into the trees. I turned to where Jace was waiting, and followed.

"This is definitely stalking!"

"It's only stalking if we get caught! So shut up!" Jace hissed.

I shifted uncomfortably but continued to watch the girl across the street. It had taken us awhile to get to where the trees had told us to go, but after some arguing, yelling, and finally asking directions, we had found her. She was a lot different from what I had imagined. Her sandy hair was cropped under her chin and looked like someone had cut it with a knife. Her brown eyes popped because of her strikingly pale skin. For the ten minutes we watched her, she had been reading some French book which Jace told me was about archeology.

My cheeks reddened and for the ninety-eighth time since we had been there I felt like a peeping tom. "How long are we going to stalk – I mean, observe her?" I corrected when Jace elbowed me.

"I don't know," he answered as he turned toward me, "I haven't exactly done this a lot," he added sheepishly.

"Just great," I muttered. I turned back toward the old building and quickly jabbed Jace in the side. "She's gone!" I whispered while pointing to the now empty rusty colored bench.

He rolled his eyes, "Relax, she's probably gone to the bathroom or something. You know how girls are," he assured me.

"Oh really, my friend, what are we girls like?" a French accented voice asked behind us.

I froze and elbowed my fellow partner-in-crime, not daring to look back.

Jace slowly turned around and gave a nervous wave. He laughed weakly. "Hello, Jeanne."

AN: Did anyone get the PJ reference? Thanks for your patience on this chapter. R and R !