Hello people of the neighboring planet! I have returned with sustenance, though I thought our last goodbyes were our final words. But, due to circumstances beyond my control (cough cough*House of Hades*cough cough) my oneshot writing gears have been turning unstoppably and I have a new round of wonderfulness, mostly starring, (drum roll, please) NICO! (Yay, whoop, whoop!)

(Clearly I am on a parenthesis high.)

So, Nico, not only is he my precious death biscuit, he is now, -SPOILER ALERT- my precious gay death biscuit. May I be the first to say, I totally saw that one coming!

So now I'm on a Nico writing high as well as a parenthesis high. And although this oneshot may be shorter than my AN, there are plenty longer ones on the way.

Okay, now here's the bad news, or maybe the-it is for the best-news. My other story, Love and Other Catastrophes, will be taken down. Fret not, it will be right back up there as soon as I make some minor (major) adjustments.

I love Leyna, and I think it's a much better couple than Leo and Calypso, not just because their couple name would be Lypso, which sounds like lipo, as in liposuction. But I can't bear to write non-cannon things.

Now please enjoy this tiny little taste of what's coming.

(Gods, this one long ass AN.)

(Argh! Parenthesis again!)

Am I a blonde, grey eyed daughter of Athena who can kick butt? No? Then I don't own Percy Jackson. Or Nico. But, so far, that position has been pretty open.

I should just stop while you're still reading.

Nico was sitting in a corner. It was nice, right angle corner, let's say, in a white room with a door near that corner. The rest of the room might be tastefully decorated, or it might be completely bare, but we're not looking at the room, we're concentrating on the corner where Nico is sitting.

He is dressed in black jeans and a plain black tee shirt. His sword is attached to his belt, arranged carefully next to his so he can sit comfortably. His arms are wrapped around his knees. He is staring at the ground with an unfathomable expression, probably contemplating how exactly he got to be the single most unlucky demigod to exist in a hundred years.

And then Percy comes in.

Nico doesn't notice until he sees Percy's worn sneakers on the ground in front of him. He glances up at him, surprised, curious, and a little annoyed. (And something else in between his heart and stomach, but he chooses to ignore that.)

And then Percy drops a cat on him.

Neither Nico nor the cat reacts very much other than to stare at each other.

"What the-"

"His name is Small Bob," interrupts Percy. "You're taking care of him."

"I don't like cats."

"Too bad."

"Percy, I can't-"

"Too bad," repeated Percy, walking back out the door.

Nico looked back down at the kitten in his lap. It snuggled against his chest, covering it with cat hair.

"Oh, and I need you to walk Mrs. O'Leary!" Percy's voice called from the open doorway.

"I'm not your personal dead pet sitter!" Nico yelled back. He slumped back into the corner.

Small Bob crept up and gave his chin a lick with his rough little tongue. For a second, the kitten's fluffy fur flickered and disappeared, revealing its tiny skeleton.

Unconsciously, a tired smile tugged at the corner of Nico's mouth. He stroked the kitten's head and was rewarded with a low purr.

"Are you all alone too, little guy?" he murmured. "I met Big Bob before. He was nice."

Small Bob tucked himself into the crook of his neck. Nico scratched him under his chin and told him about Big Bob, and how Nico himself had come to be alone. In fact, he spoke to that kitten more than he ever did any living creature after Bianca died. And when his voice died away, neither he nor Small Bob felt quite so lonely.

Just because when I read the words skeleton kitten, I automatically thought of Nico.