Chapter 17

"it's just the calm before the storm"
- blood like gasoline, against the current

"So, what was it like?" Piper asks eagerly.

Annabeth goes pink. "I'm not saying."

"Oh, come on, Beth! You two looked so adorable. Definitely not like the other couples I saw around who were practically eating each other. You need to give me details."

She and Piper have been curled up on the sofa together for a little over an hour. It's hot and they're both sweaty and Annabeth hasn't brushed her teeth but it's kind of perfect and Annabeth loves it. Definitely how she wanted to spend her post-prom bliss.

"I don't know." Annabeth shrugs, but she feels the butterflies swarm in her stomach. She remembers how beautiful it was, how soft and gentle was with her, and she remembers when it ended how they leaned back and looked at each other and then just laughed and she doesn't think she had ever been happier, especially when Percy went in for a second kiss and she was giggling too much to do anything except smile against his mouth. "It was – perfect."

Piper watches her fondly. "You really love him, huh?"

"Love?" Annabeth blinks. "No, I mean. I like him. Love is a bit– strong."

Piper rolls her eyes. "Puh-lease. You two have been after each other for months. You're in love with him, Beth."

"No I'm not."

"I see the way you look at him, remember?" Piper's voice softens. "I watched you two kiss. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so in love."

"Yeah."

"Besides," Piper adds. "Look at me in the eyes and tell me it wasn't the best moment of your life."

Annabeth laughs.

The moment is ruined when the kitchen door swings open and Thalia struts in, dressed like she's about to go out in black jeans and a Green Day shirt. Annabeth self-consciously looks down at Piper and herself. They're both still in pajama bottoms and sweatshirts Annabeth had stolen from her school's lost property because they were so soft. They're tangled together on the sofa like sleepy kittens and Thalia is standing there in her black outfit looking like she's about to go terrorize a kids' park and smoke cigarettes on the jungle gym with her other punk friends.

"Neither of you are planning anything today, are you?" she asks.

Piper looks at her with hooded eyes. "I was planning on watching the entirety of Hannah Montana, why?"

"Well." Thalia sits on the sofa next to them. "You can't anymore."

Piper blinks. "And why ever not?"

"Because today we're training."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I think we have time for some TV."

"Not at all. We haven't trained in a very long time and we're getting lazy. We need to sharpen our senses."

Piper snorts. "Then what propose you say we do, Leader Grace? Sit around a scented candle and guess what flavour it is?"

Thalia gives her a look. "No. Today we're doing some shooting."

That catches Annabeth's attention. She sits up and stares. "What?"

"Shooting."

"With– guns?"

"No, Annabeth, we're going to be shooting with cameras. Yes of course with guns."

Annabeth looks around worriedly. "Not– here, right?"

"Where else would we do it?"

Piper gives her a look. "Uh, not in our apartment? Anyone could hear us! Or we could get kicked out for accidentally killing someone!"

Thalia sighs, as if they're both little kids that she's been forced to look after. Annabeth actually quite resents the accusation and she frowns petulantly. "You two are positively ridiculous. You underestimate me. When you were at school I went around soundproofing the walls."

Annabeth blinks. "Soundproofing the walls."

"Quite right. I bought some soundproofing from a hardware store down the road and told them I'm building a music studio. Then I stripped the walls and put the soundproofing in. It's really quite simple."

"You– are you positively mad?"

"No, I'm just smart." Thalia swipes a banana from the counter and starts peeling it. "Anyway. I also took a few guns from the Society– relax, Piper, they're not real. They're designed for practice. They're built like real ones except the pellets are made out of Styrofoam."

"Reassuring."

"Don't sass me. They can still hurt a bit, though, so be careful. I think they can break bones. But they won't kill you."

Piper gawps. "Break bones?"

"You're acting like you've never held a proper gun before."

"I know, but– but that's at a professional gun range where we have moving targets and security cameras absolutely everywhere, not in an apartment surrounded by teenage girls where we have to shoot at some flimsy cardboard."

Annabeth stretches. "To be fair, it can't be any more ridiculous than the time me and Thalia threw knives at the walls."

Piper glares at her. "Oh yeah. I remember that."

"If you're so worried about getting hurt just don't shoot it at anyone," Thalia says. "It's not rocket science."

Piper frowns. "This still can't be safe."

"We're spies. Unsafe is, like, our motto," Annabeth says.

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Look, are we going to keep talking about the safety of carrying gun or are we going to start actually shooting some stuff?" She doesn't even wait for an answer, instead opting for rootling around in her bag and producing three sleek, black guns with red duct tape around the barrel. "Heads-up." She throws one at Annabeth and one at Piper. Annabeth catches hers with ease.

"Oh, I've used one of these before," she says.

"Good, I'd be rather worried if you hadn't."

"Have they been loaded?" Piper asks.

"Yeah. There are more bullets in my purse if you need 'em." Thalia twirls hers around her finger. Annabeth wishes she could do that. Unfortunately, she always ends up either enthusiastically throwing it off her finger and smashing a window or pulling the trigger, neither of which are particularly great. "Right. Annabeth, you're up first."

"Try not to kill anyone," Piper says unhelpfully.

Annabeth ignores her, and raises her gun to eye level. The target is a piece of laminated cardboard painted like a target and honestly Annabeth is a little afraid that despite the bullet being made out of Styrofoam she's going to accidentally blast the wall into pieces, but she clicks the bullet into the chamber nonetheless and positions herself.

"There we go," Thalia encourages. "Take your time. Relax your shoulders."

"Shut up, Thalia. I know how to fire a gun."

"Your technique would beg to differ. It's absolutely horrendous."

"Oh, do be quiet."

Annabeth takes a deep breath and pulls the trigger.

The bullet fires out like a whippet. It hits the target and blasts it off the top of the TV, where it's been balanced, although thankfully it doesn't appear to have done any immediate damage to the wall. Annabeth smirks, quite proud of herself.

"I'd take that smile off of your face," Piper says. "You didn't get bullseye."

Annabeth's cheer falters. "What?"

Thalia picks up the target and snorts. "Geez, Chase, were you doing this with your eyes closed?"

Annabeth frowns, hurt. "Hey."

"Your aim is awful. You were a good three inches off of the centre."

"I was nervous!"

"Well, stop being nervous. It's a gun. Get your act together."

Annabeth raises her eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm sorry?"

"You've got a serial killer after you, Beth. Believe it or not, I didn't soundproof the walls and swipe three guns from the Society for the fun of it. You're in danger. You could get killed any second now, and if you don't even know how to shoot a gun correctly you're going to be dead in a few seconds."

Annabeth's jaw tightens. She knows Thalia's right, but she doesn't want to admit it. Instead, she straightens her shoulders and raises her gun. "Get the target back up," she says quietly.

Piper scurries and props the target back on top of the TV. Thalia was right; she was embarrassingly far off the centre. She knows she can do better. She's been handling guns since she could walk. All this time spent neglecting training has left her sloppy.

She fires.

Thalia nods. "Better. But still not great."

"Oh, come on."

"Just saying."

"Look," Piper says. "If you can't get them with accuracy, you need to use the element of surprise."

Annabeth frowns. "What?"

"Yeah! We did it in Human Reactions a while back, in the Society. Statistically speaking, when you fire a gun in someone's immediate vicinity – which is, like, a five-metre radius of their body – for three seconds that follow they're going to think they've been shot. It's a basic human reaction. Whenever a loud noise goes off, we're all going to jump, because, even if it's for zero point zero zero one seconds, we're going to think that we've been hit. But realistically, Luke is a spy, so for him it's probably going to be zero point nine seconds. Anyway. All your big actions have to take place in that time from, from the moment you shoot the gun to the moment he realises that it hasn't hit him, if it hasn't."

Annabeth watches her. "What do you mean?"

Piper drops on the sofa, obviously very pleased with herself. "Well. Let's say you want to shoot him in the arm. Regardless of whether you miss or not, there are going to be roughly zero point nine seconds where Luke is going to be practically paralysed. Maybe even less. Of course, if you do shoot him, you'll have an advantage when he comes out of it, because he'll be wounded, but that doesn't matter. Turn around, punch him, hit him, whatever. But if you haven't got aim on your side then your only other option to not letting him beat you is taking him by surprise."

Annabeth thinks for a second. "What if he sees blood?"

Piper blinks. "Hm?"

"What if he sees blood?"

"Luke?"

"Yeah. What if you make out you're going to shoot him in the heart but instead you shoot him the arm, so you don't kill him. After those zero point nine seconds he's going to feel pain and see blood."

Piper chews her lip. "You'll have at least four seconds then. Not to mention the advantage of him being injured."

Annabeth smirks.

Thalia waggles her finger. "You are not just going to rely on that. You need to get better at shooting, too."

"But you can't tell me that I'm hopeless now, can you?"

"Not if you don't get shot first. Luke's a spy, too, and a damn good one. He probably knows this."

Annabeth clicks the next bullet into the chamber and raises it. "He may be a good spy," she says, "but I'm better."

She pulls the trigger and the bullet hits dead centre.

School isn't awkward, per say. It's just a little, ahem– uncomfortable.

It's not necessarily the fact that she and her friends have nothing to say. By the time lunch rolls around Annabeth thinks Leo has given her the history of his family tree three times and is considering a forth, and as soon as she sits down at the table Hazel immediately launches into a discussion about whether or not cows can think for themselves.

No. The reason why it's uncomfortable is because is Annabeth so much as says Percy's name the entire table gives each other these knowing looks that tells Annabeth that they most definitely saw their kiss.

Which is not exactly her idea of fun, you know. Considering the circumstances.

"So." Leo leans forward. "Lois."

Annabeth tries to keep a straight face. "Leo."

"How are you on this fine day, Lois?"

"I'm quite well."

"Excellent, excellent."

He looks at her thoughtfully for another few seconds.

"Can I ask you a question, Lois?"

"No."

"Wonderful." He laces his fingers. "What exactly is your relationship with Percy?"

Hazel splutters on her water. Percy looks utterly mortified.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"Ah."

"Also, Percy is one of my men."

"Your men."

"My men."

Frank looks like he isn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"Here's the thing, Lois," Leo says seriously. "I protect my men."

"I see."

"And if anyone tries to break one of my men's hearts they have me to deal with, you understand?"

Annabeth wonders if Leo realises he barely passes five foot four. "I understand."

"Good."

"It's okay, Leo," Percy says. He looks like he's dying and for a second a flare of panic wells in Annabeth's chest but when she looks closer she realises he's trying to suppress laughter, and just that alone is almost enough to set her off. "You can, uh. Lay off."

"You sure, Perce? I've still got a whole speech."

Frank lets out a wheeze like a dying whale.

Percy hollows his cheeks to stop himself from howling with laughter. "I'm sure, man. Thanks."

"No problem."

To his credit, Leo doesn't even look deterred. As soon as he's sat back down in his seat he starts talking about the pros and cons of the existence of volcanoes, a conversation which Hazel suddenly becomes very involved in, and then not a minute later Annabeth feels her phone buzz against her thigh. She pulls it out in confusion.

Percy so

She rolls her eyes.

Lois percy you're literally sitting across from me

Percy i felt this had to be done in private

Lois the bathrooms?

Percy they would suspect something

Lois it's not a murder perce

Percy STILL

What a nerd.

Lois fine

Lois what did you want to talk about

Percy uh

Percy us actually

Lois oh

Percy yeah

Lois what about us

Percy well

Percy we kissed

Lois we did

Percy was i okay

Lois you were perfect

Percy i didn't like suck or anything

Lois not at all

Lois you were great

Percy okay

Percy okay good

Lois yeah

Percy sooooooooooo

Lois so

Percy what does this mean exactly

Lois oh

Lois well i mean im not sure about you but boyfriend/girlfriend sounds cool

Lois only if you want

Lois like

Lois you don't have to

Percy no!

Percy i'd love to that's great yes

Lois okay

Percy okay

Lois so

Lois we're dating now

Percy yeah

Lois that's so weird

Percy rude

Lois no this is just all so surreal like i cant believe this is happening

Percy me either

Percy also i have no experience with dating so this could just be one giant trainwreck warning

Lois don't be silly

Lois as long as im doing with you it'll be perfect

It's ridiculously cheesy and Annabeth hates it the second she presses send, but when she sees the way Percy's face brightens and then flushes red she thinks that it might have been worth it.

Science is– eventful, to say the least.

First off and most importantly, Mr Hephaestus decided to be a right pain in the arse and switch up the partners. Percy gets paired with Frank. Hazel is with a girl called Gwen. Leo is with Calypso Ogygia, of all girls, and if Annabeth weren't trying so hard to not strangle her partner she would be immensely pleased for him.

Because guess who her partner is.

Brandon Lawrence.

Annabeth can't believe it either. When Mr Hephaestus had read it out she had grabbed onto the edge of the table so she wouldn't fall off her chair in shock.

Brandon doesn't look very pleased to see her. When she awkwardly sidles into the seat next to him he doesn't even spare her a second glance, instead choosing to look at her once with his lip curled and disdain in his eyes and then never again. Which suits her just fine. She doesn't necessarily want to look at Brandon either, not when he locked her in a closet with the intention of keeping her there for roughly nine hours.

On three occasions Hazel has turned around to give her an apologetic look. Annabeth reckons Leo would have bumped the number to ten if he hadn't been so involved in Calypso, practically tripping over his feet to do what she asked. He was right, Calypso is very pretty. She's got flowing caramel hair and clear skin with round almond eyes and she's wearing a white dress and she's so beautiful Annabeth almost forgets how to breathe for a second. She can see why Leo likes her, and not because when she walked past her to sit next to Brandon she heard her call Mr Hephaestus a "three-legged donkey with impaired eyesight and a nose for miles".

She hopes they end up together. She'd be good for Leo.

"Mr Lawrence, Miss Watermann?"

Annabeth looks up. It's Mr Hephaestus, standing by their desk.

"Sir?" Brandon says.

"Would you mind setting up the kettles?" Hephaestus asks. "We're doing a practical in around ten minutes and I need the water heated up so we don't have to stand waiting around."

Annabeth slides off her chair. "Of course, sir."

She and Brandon head over to the side. Annabeth is careful this time. The last time she went near the kettles she almost melted her nose off, and she doesn't need that happening again, especially not around Brandon. She slows her pace, hoping Brandon won't notice and just walk ahead.

He doesn't. In fact, as they approach the kettles, he seems to be walking slower, too.

When they get there, Annabeth stands a safe metre away. Brandon at least gets near them, but for some reason he seems a little jumpy, too. Annabeth zeroes in on him. Anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed, but he's being overly cautious in a way he doesn't need to be, and he's not even within touching distance. Annabeth wonders why.

They both stand there. Neither of them appear to be in any immediate hurry to switch them on.

"Well?" Brandon asks roughly. "Put them on."

"I'm not your slave. You do it."

"No!"

Annabeth eyes at him suspiciously. This is getting ridiculous.

"Why are you so scared?" she asks. "They're just kettles."

"I could say the same for you."

"I, um. Burnt myself a while back. I don't want it to happen again."

Brandon scoffs, but it's tight. He shuffles, watching the kettles.

For heaven's sake.

Annabeth sighs and pushes past him, filling up the kettles with water from the taps. At least there won't be any steam here that can melt her nose off. She waits until they're all filled and then puts them on their heat mats, flicking their switches on.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Brandon asks meanly.

"At least I had the guts to do it."

Brandon can't say anything against that he just stays quiet and sulks.

It takes a few minutes for the water to start bubbling. Annabeth watches the steam rising through their spouts, and takes a tiny step backwards so it doesn't reach her face. To her surprise, she sees Brandon do almost the exact same thing.

She Studies him. She hasn't done it before – it's always been a little unsettling to her, even though she does it so much. She doesn't like doing it to people she already knows. She feels like it's an invasion of privacy – it's why ever since she and Hazel became friends, she's never Studied her before. She'll study them briefly, but never as intensely as she does at first glance.

If you know a person, you'll pick up on their mannerisms and you'll be able to get even more from them.

But she never studied Brandon when they first met.

He's tall. That's almost it immediately. He's got broad shoulders and golden hair, with blue eyes and tanned skin. He looks like your average high schooler but Annabeth pushes past that, past the plain T-shirt and the store-bought jeans and sneakers. He's dressed so generically it's almost impossible to get anything from him, but she examines him like a final assignment. She can't get anything about his home life from his clothes – everything he's wearing is from the same place and they all look new. But he's got sweat patches under his shirt and it's a cool room with air conditioner. Nerves. But why on earth would he be nervous?

Annabeth glances at the kettles. They're singing away, the steam pouring out of them like smoke, and when she looks back at him he's staring at them like they're going to jump up and bite him. He can't be terrified of the kettles, can he? He's standing a good way away from them, almost as much as her, and she's distanced herself so she wouldn't even get a hint of steam her way. There's no way he'd be able to get burnt from one all the way over here.

So why is he so nervous?

Wait.

Why is she so nervous?

Well, that's easy. She's got a prosthetic nose on that's been made out of facial clay, and if she gets too close the steam will melt it off. And she can't have that at all, because the nose she's wearing right now is meant to be her real nose. And real noses don't normally just fall off – and besides, she hasn't got any fake blood on her at the moment. She had left it in her binder back at her desk. It would raise suspicion if her nose fell off, but even more if there was no blood.

Annabeth suddenly feels sick.

No blood.

Annabeth is just about to lean over and vomit when she realises that that's all it is. A flap of skin. No blood. No bruise. No nothing. Just a flap of skin. He doesn't seem to realise it's there. It doesn't seem to be causing him any pain.

She takes a step backwards.

Oh, no.

Thalia snorts and goes back to doing whatever she was doing. "Perks of looking a lot more injured than you actually are."

Annabeth frowns. That sounded familiar, but she isn't quite sure where from.

She knows where from, all right.

For someone who just got punched in the face, he looks a lot more injured than he should be.

Kettles. Steam. Nerves.

The steam from the kettles has melted the clay holding her fake nose in place.

A flap of skin.

Annabeth stares at it. A literal fold of skin is just hanging beneath his eye and he doesn't realise? How does that even happen?

Annabeth turns and looks at herself in the reflection of the science lab windows. She sees long brown curls, brown wide eyes and in the middle of her face a large nose, made completely from prosthetics.

In what universe is getting injured to the point where a flap of your skin gets ripped off and is hanging off your face not painful?

It all makes sense.

She looks back at Brandon. He's still cautiously watching the kettles.

Brandon and the boys start to head back out. However, just before he walks out completely, Brandon turns around to throw one of the tissues he was using to mop himself up in the bin – and Annabeth catches sight of his cheek. Which is now completely smooth.

The flap of skin is gone.

Annabeth tells herself she just imagined it.

The flap of skin wasn't a flap of skin.

It was prosthetic skin.

It's why he's so wary of the kettles, why in the bathroom all those months ago it was there one second, not causing him any pain in the slightest, and then gone in the next.

She takes another step backwards.

It looks like she isn't the only one undercover at Marino after all.

A/N i mean is anyone even really surprised at this point

alsO GUYS OH MY GOODNESS WE'VE GOT 200 REVIEWS

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