"There's glitter on the floor after the party…" Annabeth sang along to the lyrics blaring from the tiny Bluetooth speaker she'd rigged up on her coffee table.

"You know there's no glitter involved tonight, right?" Piper called from the kitchen, where she'd been stirring something that smelled like tomatoes and butter and onions and salt. "And that we're not hosting a party?"

"Let me take inspiration from Taylor Swift, okay? Accuracy be damned." Annabeth pretended to lob a pillow from her couch at Piper's head over her kitchen island, which separated the living room from the kitchen.

"I'm going to quote you on that. I'm going to call up one of those stupid papers that keeps sending stupid reporters to press briefings and getting quotes about psychics instead of physicists, and I'm telling them that you get your legal strategies from Taylor Swift." Piper tasted what she'd been stirring and let out a sigh. "Oh my god. You have to try this."

"I can wait until dinner, it's fine. Hey, what time are people getting here?" Annabeth poked at the stack of paperwork that Piper had dumped on the coffee table two days ago. "And more importantly, do I have time to look at this giant pile of legal casework that Jason wants me to dig through?"

Piper made a face. "Yeah, you don't want to look at that. It's a bunch of white supremacist, anti-disabled, vaguely eugenicist crap."

Annabeth frowned. "Jason's looking into who fired the shots at Rosslyn?"

"Jason and Reyna and the Secret Service and literally everyone else," Piper nodded. "Hell, I'm surprised you weren't."

"I've been a little more worried about the whole Luke-trying-to-oust-us-from-the-White-House thing." Annabeth shook her head. "Still can't believe he tried to rig shooting a journalist."

"I can." The oven beeped, and Piper grabbed a tray of rolls from the fridge that she'd prepped earlier and shoved them inside to bake. "I mean, not that I can see it easily, but I can see it. Dude does whatever he wants if he thinks it'll get him ahead, it doesn't matter who he's hurting."

"Hmm." Annabeth absently started flipping through the case files on the coffee table.

"Stop that," Piper warned. "If you start reading, you'll never stop."

Annabeth was saved from both having to read further and having to make a quick retort by a knock on the door. "Come in!"

Jason poked his head around the door. "You were literally shot a few weeks ago. You shouldn't leave your door unlocked. Or casually invite people in without checking on their identity."

"Agent Zhang is literally three feet from the door. And Officer… whatever his name is, I don't remember, is down in the lobby. I'm not that worried." Annabeth closed the folder she'd been holding. "Plus, I've got my favorite army guy hanging around now."

"Plus me," Reyna said, elbowing her way in past Jason. "I brought a charcuterie board."

"It's my charcuterie board," Jason argued. "Thalia helped me with it for like twenty minutes this afternoon."

"Exactly. Thalia helped. My wife, my charcuterie board." Reyna set the board on the counter. "Piper, you good to take notes tonight?"

"Ah, yes. Notes on our super-secret meeting that makes it worth it for all of us to miss the New Years Party at the White House and definitely isn't just an excuse for some of us to just hang out at Annabeth's place instead of making her go somewhere else." Piper nodded knowingly. "Yes, no problem."

"We actually do have something to discuss," Jason said, a flash of worry crossing his face. "Also. Hi, Piper."

"Hi." Piper immediately made herself busy with the rolls she'd put in the oven. "Been a while."

"Maybe we can talk later?" There was a pleading note in Jason's voice, a desperation Annabeth hadn't ever heard from him before.

"Sure, maybe." Piper accidentally brushed the side of her hand against the hot edge of the oven rack. "Shit, damn, ow."

Jason immediately rushed to her side. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really." Piper flexed her hand, already running cool water over a rag to press to it. "Not my first rodeo with mild burns."

"Here, let me—" Jason reached for her, but she was already turning away, rubbing an oven mitt and using her other hand to reach in and grab the tray.

"It's really fine, Jason," Piper said, a little curtly as she picked up a small bowl of melted butter and began brushing it over the tops of the rolls.

The doorbell rang, saving them both the further awkwardness. Percy entered the apartment, clad in a dark blue suit— clearly fresh from the office, even though they all technically had the day off. No such thing as a true break, not for senior staff— and Percy technically ranked the lowest of them, save for Piper, who had a professional excuse in the form if the apartment being her boss's.

For Annabeth, the world stopped when Percy walked through the door.

Not that she'd ever admit it, of course.

And besides, she was supposed to be immune to the effects of Percy Jackson in a well-cut suit, after the last few months of working together. But something about this one— the dark blue against his tanned skin, the white of his shirt stark against his dark hair— momentarily stopped her heart in her chest. For a second, he was the muscle-bound kid with slightly too-long hair who'd tapped on her desk when she was falling asleep on the library, like some kind of Contract Law savior, taking her breath away for the very first time.

"I brought a cake." Percy held up a box from the French bakery in DuPont Circle that was at least twenty minutes out of the way for the route that he'd have taken from the office. "And," he added before Annabeth could protest, "a bunch of paper plates because I remember the fit you threw that time I made you eat your pizza off of a real plate like an adult."

Annabeth recovered enough to roll her eyes. "In my defense, I really didn't want to do dishes, which is a moot point because Piper made plenty of real food. But the plates are appreciated, as are the cupcakes."

"Put them on the counter, but do not mess with my prep process!" Piper hollered. "I'm almost done in here, and then we can eat."

"And we can discuss what this is all about," Jason inserted. "Hey, Reyna, when did my sister say she was getting here?"

"She's not. I know we originally planned this as a front so that we didn't need to put in appearances at the White House party, but it turns out I do need to make an appearance, and also we need to chat about some business," Reyna said."So, we'll do what we can between now and ten, and then I'll head there and you all… I don't know, it's the last day of the year, presumably you all have social lives in some way or another."

"Business?" Piper asked.

Reyna glared at her. "Yes, business. You just about done in there, McLean?"

"Just about," Piper nodded. "Let's eat, everyone. But if this is business, you all should know that I cooked and therefore will not be taking notes this time. I'll be a secretary or a chef, I will not be both."

"I've got it, Pipes." Annabeth waggled her pen and pad of paper.

They all lined up by the kitchen counter, piling their (ceramic, because Annabeth was not in fact still a law student and did have a working dishwasher, unlike when she was twenty-five) plates with homemade spinach and ricotta ravioli and thick red sauce that gleamed with a buttery gloss. Annabeth grabbed one of the garlic rolls and snagged camembert, manchego, and a few pancetta slices from the charcuterie board that, regardless of ownership, had crossed the threshold with Jason and Reyna. Piper grabbed two rolls, bypassing the platter of meat and cheese entirely. Once everyone was seated, they all looked expectantly at Reyna, mouths already full of food.

"Right, so business." Reyna cleared her throat. "We need to talk about Silena Beauregard."

When Reyna finished explaining, the room was quiet. Even the sounds of chewing and cutlery clinking against plates had fallen to a hush.

"She was… reporting on us. To Luke?" Annabeth couldn't decide if she was angry, shocked, or somewhere between the two.

"To try to keep Beckendorf safe," Jason noted. "I've known good soldiers who made worse choices for less worthwhile goals."

Piper frowned. "It's awful. Also, why am I here? This has to be above my pay grade. Do I even have the security clearance to be having this conversation?"

"Beckendorf was a solider, though. Line of duty." Percy shook his head. "If we know Castellan was behind it…

Reyna stabbed at a piece of tortellini with her fork. "It's not just Silena who's come forward about something regarding Luke Castellan recently. Also, Miss McLean, it would normally be above your pay grade, but we need someone on the secretary level to know what's going on, because we can't constantly be in meetings all day long and communicating via coded message or fucking smoke signal. Also, I seem to remember that the two of you were friends."

"Not just Silena." Annabeth's gray eyes narrowed. "Reyna, what the fuck does that mean?"

"Now is probably a good time to point out that Perce and I are pretty sure Luke is just the middle man, and not actually the person behind the shooting," Jason supplied. "So, if we're going to go after a sitting member of the United States House of Representatives, he's not actually the one we want, really."

Everyone at the table except for Percy whipped their heads around to stare at him.

For the second time that night, nearly the entirety of the White House senior staff was struck close to speechless.

Finally, it was Percy who threw his hands up into the air. "All right. Well, if the country is essentially fucked and we're airing all of the secrets we've decided for some reason to not tell the President, then I'm going to eat."

"Oh, believe me, I'm telling the President." Reyna leveled a glare at Jason. "I can't believe you were running a side investigation like this. I could fire you for that."

Jason smiled a lopsided grin, the kind that only someone who'd worked with her for as long as he had could give Reyna. "You could. But you won't. Also, nepotism."

"This is why people don't hire family, isn't it." Reyna tipped her face to the ceiling, massaging her temples with her fingertips. "Okay. I'm not going to take this to the President until we're in the new year. I'm going to eat this delicious dinner, and then I'm going to go to the White House and kiss my wife at midnight in the Rose Garden and it's going to be beautiful. And then, tomorrow morning, when it can be a Next Year Problem, I am going to take the organized, well-documented brief that you all are going to write to the President regarding the Kronos situation and the shooting. I will break the news gently. And then we will discuss it. Is that understood?"

"Understood. Dinner is delicious, Piper. Thank you for cooking. Now, can we declare this enough business for tonight?" Annabeth looked around at the rest of them with big, pleading eyes. "I can't take another proverbial bomb getting dropped tonight."

Two hours later, Reyna was gone, Jason and Piper were having a very intense-looking conversation in hushed tones in the corner of Annabeth's kitchen while Jason scrubbed at the pans and Piper gestured with sharp, quick movements.

Annabeth caught Percy's eye and tipped her head towards the balcony that opened up off of her living room. "Want to get some fresh air?"

Percy gave Jason and Piper a sidelong glance. "Absolutely."

So Annabeth grabbed a cardigan from the arm of her couch and Percy grabbed his coat from the hook by the door. Glancing at Annabeth's cardigan, Percy also reached on the way to the balcony door and grabbed a blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch, folding it over itself twice and shoving the mass of it under his arm.

"So," Annabeth said, swinging the balcony door most of the way closed behind them to block out the noise of Jason and Piper's no-longer-quite-so-hushed conversation. "Hell of a night."

"Is it horrible if I say that we've been through worse?" Percy let out a long breath, the plume of it turning white in the chilled late-December air.

Annabeth forced a laugh. "Worse how exactly?"

"You in that hospital bed." The words ripped themselves from his throat unbidden. "You, in that limousine, bleeding out because you tried to save me."

"Yeah." A breeze whipped the cold air around them. Annabeth shivered, a few errant curls blowing in front of her face.

Percy wordlessly handed her the blanket he'd grabbed and tucked it around her, brushing the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

Annabeth tried not to fall over the wrought-iron rail by her elbow at the shock that his touch sent through her.

"I'd do it again, you know," she muttered, that same electricity setting her nerves on fire— her nerves must be on fire and she was electrocuted and falling off the balcony already, that had to be the explanation for the rush of blood in her ears and the speed of her heartbeat.

Percy stilled. "What?"

"I'd do it again," she repeated, looking him straight in his sea-green eyes. "Save you. You're the best of us, in this little group that keeps the White House running. You, with your kid-saving, school-district lawyering, stupid amounts of compassion. You're what leadership needs, and I'd jump in front of a bullet again to make sure you get to keep going."

"Don't say that." Percy shook his head. "Please, Wise Girl, never, ever jump in front of a bullet for me again. I can't take it."

"No promises." Annabeth shivered again. "Besides, I've got a weird sort of feeling you'd do the same for me."

"No question about it," Percy replied without hesitation. "Here, you're cold."

He tugged her closer, wrapping an arm around her as well as the blanket. She leaned into him, welcoming his warmth.

"It must be almost midnight," she said, extending her left wrist. A delicate watchband sat there— silver, with a tiny A on one of the links. A for Athena, not for Annabeth— it had been a gift from her mother for law school graduation. She and Percy both watched the hands on its face tick their way around for nearly a solid minute.

"You know… they say you're supposed to picture what you want to carry with you into the next year, and hold it fast in your mind when the clock hits twelve." Percy reached a hand out to hold Annabeth's, tipping the watch face closer to them both so that it caught the light.

"Well, forty-five seconds to make that mental image count." Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Thinking of anything in particular?"

"Yeah." The corner of Percy's mouth flashed up into a smile. "This."

With that, he shifted her in his arm ever so slightly, tucking his arm firmly against the small of her back so that she didn't fall. Gently, he cupped a hand around the curve of her cheek and leaned down, touching his lips to hers.

Forty-five seconds.

It could have been an eternity or a nanosecond and Annabeth wouldn't have known the difference. If she thought she'd been struck by lightning at his touch a few moments ago, it was nothing compared to what she felt now.

The wind picked up around them, her hair tangling in a blonde mess over both their shoulders. She didn't care, didn't lift a hand to hold back the curls— both of her hands were occupied, with one arm flung around Percy's neck and the other clutching the blanket between their chests as she kissed him back.

Okay, so clearly in my hiatus I did get a little behind schedule- this was meant to come out on New Year's Eve, but I ended up posting Like A Thousand Ships instead. Sorry, not sorry. But hopefully this makes up for the delay a bit- more than breadcrumbs, this time, as promised.

I hope all of your 2024s are off to a beautiful, intentional start. Wishing lots of love and perfectly tender garlic rolls to you all- thank you for continuing to read this little story of mine. ~GT