Notes: Really toeing the line here between T and M ratings. You have been warned. Special thanks to those who helped provide some perspective for specific scenes in this chapter. You know who you are.

oOo

The City that Never Sleeps

Percy had to be dreaming. Or so he thought when he answered the door, opening it to find her standing on the other side.

She was as beautiful as he remembered in his dreams, on the rare nights when he wasn't plagued by nightmares. He recalled once thinking that she was more beautiful than Aphrodite, and that had never been more true than in the here and now, with her radiance lighting up the otherwise dingy hallway outside of his apartment. For there was something different about her now. He couldn't quite put his finger on it at first, for her beauty had not changed since that day he had woken up on Ogygia with her hovering over him, feeding him nectar and treating his wounds with her magical songs. . But something else, something intangible about Calypso had changed.

He almost didn't even register that she wasn't alone; it wasn't until Argus moved that he noticed his presence. But even then, his attention was only diverted for a moment.

He had eyes only for her, after all.

"Calypso," he breathed out softly, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

Sure. He had requested her release, but for it to be granted… he had not been expecting the Gods to be so acquiescent, nor so punctual.

But there she was, standing on his doorstep with a small, shy smile flitting across her lips, her eyes shining brightly with happiness.

Ah.

That was what had changed.

On Ogygia, Calypso had always had this air of sadness to her; there was a distance between them that he could never quite bridge. A distance forcibly maintained by the curse of her punishment.

But he could find no traces of that sadness in her demeanor anymore. She wasn't pulling away from him, or keeping him at arm's length. It almost felt as though he was meeting her for the first time.

This version of Calypso; this version of her that could smile freely, unencumbered by thoughts of her isolation and her curse; this version of her was infinitely more alluring than she had ever been on Ogygia.

"Hello Percy Jackson." Her voice still held that musical lilt to it that he could never forget from his days on her island. Her singing had quite literally saved his life, after all.

"It's been a while," she continued.

A pause, and then her smile turned a little mischievous.

"Have you missed me?"

And he couldn't help smiling back at her.

"Not as much as you clearly missed me."

"Oh, really? Then why is there a garden of moonlace planted in the middle of this Manhattan that you spoke so much of to me?"

She tapped a finger to her lips, feigning forgetfulness. "I seem to recall… oh, what were our parting words?"

"That's unimportant!"

She ignored him, and her smile grew wider.

"Oh yes."

"Plant a garden in Manhattan for me?"

He groaned. "Alright, alright. You win. But I kept my promise. What do you think of the garden?"

Calypso glanced out at the balcony where the plant was growing.

"Hummm. A single flower does not make a garden, so there is still quite a bit of work to be done before you can properly call it a garden. However, the moonlace…while perhaps a bit disorderly, is growing well. You've done a good job repotting them."

"I learned from the best, after all."

He mentally cheered as he watched her cheeks redden.

"Don't get too cocky, Percy Jackson. I must point out that you may soon run out of space on your balcony if you do not trim them," she retorted, although without any real anger.'

He scratched his chin, giving her a sideways glance. "I gotta say, I'm not the best at this whole gardening thing. My mom helped me with the repotting, and I'm worried that I might trim the wrong stem or whatever."

"It is not a terribly difficult task, Percy Jackson. Moonlace is not a particularly fragile plant, so all you have to do is-"

But he cut her off.

"I was really just wondering, Calypso, if you could spare some time and come over to help me trim them?"

"I-oh." She turned red once more and hid her face.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but I-"

"I'd love to." The words were soft; he could barely hear her over the sound of a siren in the distance.

But then she looked back at him and… were those tears in her eyes?

"I'd really really love to."

And then her arms were around him, and her head was buried in his chest. He froze for a second, not expecting the contact; the overwhelming warmth that flowed through him.

And then he was hugging her back, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her once familiar cinnamon scent.

"I've missed you. I…every day, I would think about you and your war. Wonder if you were doing well, if you were even alive." She admitted shakily, her words barely above a whisper.

And he too, in his turn, confessed his piece.

"I… There were times I wished I'd never left. There were times where I wished that I could've stayed. Lived out those peaceful days with you."

The words hung heavy over them, a reminder of a different time; of a time when things were darker and far more desperate.

She broke the silence, injecting some cheer and a teasing toneto her voice.

"Soooo…is that your way of saying you missed me too?"

His only response was to hug her tighter. They stayed like that for a while, simply enjoying each other's warmth; the comfort in their closeness.

"Thank you, Percy. Thank you so much. You don't know how much it means to me, that you remembered me… and that you saved me from my punishment."

He tightened his grip.

"You saved my life, Calypso. It was the least I could do, after everything you did for me on Ogygia. It was nothing special."

She shook her head against his chest.

"No, Percy. I've aided many a hero in my time in exile, but none of them have ever spared me a second thought. They returned home, returned to their battles, and forgot me. But you… you didn't. That's why I… why I…"

She trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"That's why I'm still in love with you."

Her words rooted him to the spot. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Love, huh?

He hadn't thought about love at all since… since he watched that poisoned knife twist inside of her abdomen. Since he'd watched her die in his arms, helpless to save her.

What could he say? He didn't want to hurt her, to ruin this moment with her and-

"Shh," Calypso looked up to press a slim finger against his lips, effectively shutting down his thoughts. "You don't have to answer me now. I… heard about everything that happened during the war. I can wait, Percy, until you're ready. Because I'll have all the time in the world…with you."

oOo

The truth was, she wasn't sure if she could handle a rejection.

She hadn't wanted to confess to him in the first place. It was too soon. But it had felt so nice, so right in his arms. His embrace was warm, and he smelled like the fresh ocean breeze that used to blow across her island in the mornings. In fact, everything about him just reminded her of home. And he had hugged her back. It just felt right.

The words had slipped out before she could take them back.

But then she saw the look on his face; that mix of pain and surprise and wariness. She knew that look all too well.

It was the look of someone who hadn't quite gotten over their last love.

So she'd stopped him. She'd told him not to answer her.

Because if he'd said no, then it would have crushed her.

And if he'd said yes, things wouldn't have been much better. Because she would always wonder if all he ever saw in her was a rebound relationship.

Don't give your heart to someone with a broken one, right?

No.

If she wanted Percy Jackson, she needed to be patient. If she wanted Percy Jackson to love her, he needed to reach that conclusion himself, on his own time.

So for the time being, she was content with them just being Calypso and Percy Jackson.

The next week passed agonizingly slowly. While she had previously enjoyed her idyllic days so much that she hadn't even noticed the seasons change at Camp Half-Blood, she now found the time passing by at a snail's pace. She had the same routine; she even had the added work of repotting the honeysuckle from the shop to add to her garden!

But all she could think about was Sunday. Because on Sunday, she could sit next to Argus as he wordlessly drove the van back to the city, listening to Apollo's latest hit on the radio.

On Sunday, she would get to see Percy Jackson again, and the thought of that would always make her heart flutter.

oOo

Sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. Calypso knew this. After all, she'd sacrificed the vast majority of her life for her Father's cause. Not because he deserved it. Not even because she believed that his cause was just, or that he was right.

She sided with him because he was her Father. He was family, and no matter how terrible his actions may have been viewed by others, she still loved him. And so, when the Gods had meted out her punishment, she had accepted it with barely a word of protest.

Calypso knew all about sacrifices, but she had never quite made this type of sacrifice.

It had all started with a simple Iris Message. Of course, because it had come from Percy, it wound up being anything but simple for her.

She hadn't used the messaging service with the rainbow goddess before, so it was quite the shock to hear Percy's voice ring out in her makeshift garden behind the Poseidon cabin.

Thankfully, she hadn't been in the middle of any important task; she'd just been watering her newly acquired honeysuckle plants. And while those plants probably received quite a bit more water than was necessary, it wouldn't do any long-term damage.

And honestly, the sweat and grime that stuck unpleasantly to her body from the hour or so of gardening was far more concerning when Percy was right there. She must have looked like an absolute mess wearing some old, ill-fitting T-shirt and ratty jeans and by the name of Zeus just kill her now.

She wasn't sure if Percy hadn't noticed her embarrassment at her disheveled appearance, being the dense demigod that he was, or if he had simply not said anything out of courtesy, but the only thing he'd done on the call was to ask if she'd still be coming over that Sunday, and whether or not she would be interested in going out for dinner.

He'd barely gotten the question out before she'd agreed, her heart doing somersaults and backflips in her chest.

She'd barely gotten off the call, already full of anticipation, before a rather alarming issue made her freeze.

What was she supposed to wear? She vaguely remembered dressing up for celebrations during the Titanomachy of ages past, but ever since that era had ended, she'd stuck with her white cotton dresses that had been a staple of her life on Ogygia, but those would do her no good here.

She wanted to look her best. To dress her best. But she didn't have anything particularly fancy for this… whatever this dinner was supposed to be.

Thus, here she was, standing outside of a garish pink cabin that smelled as if every perfume and scented oil in existence had been mixed together in a cauldron and thrown over the whole building, wondering what she was doing.

The girl standing before her was tall, with dark hair styled in ringlets. She had abandoned the traditional orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt in favor of designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and entirely too much makeup.

This was Drew Tanaka. The head of the Aphrodite cabin regarded her with a perfectly sculpted, raised eyebrow.

"You want me to make you look pretty?" There was more than a little skepticism in her voice.

"I-yes. I'm- I'd like to dress up in the latest fashions."

"Well, I can't say that I particularly like your style." the girl replied rather rudely, giving her a once over. "And no offense, but the stuff you wear doesn't seem to be caught up with the times either. I gotta ask though, what are you asking me to dress you up for? Can't you immortals just like, change your appearance at will anyways?"

Calypso "grimaced. "I've never really found it necessary to dress up before. I thought I'd ask your advice given your… ah… expertise in the matter."

Drew frowned at her a bit more, scrutinizing her appearance with a practiced eye.

"Well, if you're willing to take my week of cleaning duties, I guess I can help you out. What exactly are you dressing up for anyway? That dress of yours, while extremely old-fashioned, does get you that summery girl-next-door look. If that kinda innocent vibe is what you're looking for, then there's nothing I can really do for you beyond getting you a modern version of that dress."

"Err-girl next door look? What does that mean?"

Drew stared at her in disbelief, before shaking her head in annoyance. "Never mind. Just answer a question for me."

"What is it?"

"Do you want to be seen as beautiful? Or do you want to be sexy?"

She almost replied 'beautiful' reflexively. It was the 'obvious' answer. Everyone wanted to be beautiful, right?

But for Calypso… all throughout her exile, she had been beautiful. The heroes, the gods, even the occasional mortal that had washed up on her shores; they had all called her beautiful.

What had it even meant, in the end?

"...Sexy, I'd like to be sexy."

Drew smiled at her then; a pointed smile, showing teeth.

"Then let's get started."

oOo

It didn't take long for Calypso to begin regretting her decision.

It had been a long time since she had interacted with mortal society, but even so, the changes in fashion and beauty standards boggled her mind. It wasn't as though she had ever paid attention to any such standards; she had never had a reason to bother with her appearance after all.

But the first magazine that Drew had showed her, depicting a mortal model showing off an absurdly thin waist and what she could only describe as obscenely large breasts, was so far off from what she remembered from back in the old days that she thought Drew was playing some sort of trick on her.

She quickly realized that it was no trick. They spent the next half hour on what she'd be wearing and none of it made any sense at all.

"This is… quite uncomfortable," she muttered as she tugged on the strap of what Drew had called a "push-up bra", which was digging into her skin.

Drew glanced over at her for a brief moment.

"Well yeah, it's not exactly meant to be the most comfortable thing in the world to wear. But it does make your boobs look fantastic, so are you really gonna complain?"

Calypso frowned at herself in the mirror that sat on the side of the room. It did draw attention to her breasts; a feature which Drew had assured her would be a major selling point if she was going for a sexy look.

She sighed and resigned herself to her fate.

Meanwhile, Drew was muttering to herself as she rummaged through her wardrobe.

"Here try this one," she said, tossing a black dress at her.

She caught it and examined it carefully. It was a slinky, strapless number, with a lace-up criss-cross pattern on the side that showed off quite a lot of skin.

To Calypso, it looked pretty much exactly like the sort of dress that courtesans would wear.

"Err, Drew? Isn't this… a bit much?"

"Just try it on and see how it looks," came her short response.

She wrestled with it for a few minutes before Drew came over to help her into it. And when all the lacey parts were tied and she was properly wearing it, it actually looked… well it didn't look as bad as she'd feared.

That wasn't to say that it wasn't very, very different from anything she'd ever worn. There was quite a lot more skin exposed to the elements than she was used to. And the garment itself stuck to her body like a second skin; she didn't have quite the freedom of movement that she was used to.

This would certainly not be the attire of choice for gardening, she mused to herself, and made a mental note to bring a change of clothes with her. Percy did say that he wanted her help with the moonlace as well, after all.

Still, she had to hand it to the daughter of Aphrodite. Despite her rude attitude, she had certainly done well; Calypso would have no complaints about her work. This new look of hers… it certainly could be described as sexy.

She turned to her benefactor, who was now rummaging around her vanity, and thanked her with a genuine smile.

"Huh?" The daughter of Aphrodite turned around, confusion on her face and a bottle of… something in her right hand.

"You're not even close to being done yet. We haven't even started on your makeup!"

"Ehh-"

"C'mere and sit down," Drew said brusquely, dragging her over to the wooden chair in front of the vanity.

So maybe she spoke a little too soon.

oOo

The idea of makeup wasn't exactly foreign to Calypso; she still recalled ancient times when it was fashionable to darken the eyes with charcoal and conjoin the eyebrows with eyeliner. But that process was a simple one. It did not require much effort, nor was it particularly uncomfortable. The whole process took maybe fifteen minutes at most.

Calypso had thought that surely that was what Drew had meant by makeup.

It had been… rather naive of her, she thought to herself, trying to hold back a grimace as the daughter of Aphrodite tugged at her hair. Apparently, modern makeup was quite difficult to put on.

She'd spent the past hour sitting in front of Drew's vanity as she patted powder into her face which was supposed to lighten her complexion and colored her lips a ruby red with a tube of what she called lipstick. The powder stuck to her uncomfortably heavily and she could already tell that it would be an absolute pain to remove later. The lipstick tasted awful ("well, that's because you're not supposed to eat it!), and had a rather unpleasant texture.

Then, Drew got to work on her eyes, carefully coloring her eyes with some eyeliner. She'd been forced to stay very still, lest she accidentally get poked in the eye.

And then, for the past fifteen minutes, Drew had been messing with her hair, tugging and curling and swearing at it, sticking hair pins all over the place. Calypso didn't know exactly what was wrong. She'd always preferred her simple braids, partly because it was convenient, and partly because she liked the look. She thought it complemented her appearance.

But apparently it wasn't good enough for a daughter of Aphrodite.

She winced as Drew tugged a little too hard on a particular knot.

"Drew?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you- do you think it's almost done?"

"Yeah yeah. Should be good, just gotta get this last braid to hold," she replied through gritted teeth, still fiddling with the side of her head.

Calypso bit her lip and remained silent, trying to remind herself that she was doing all of this for Percy.

That helped. She'd do anything for him.

Finally, after another five minutes of uncomfortably shifting around on the chair, Drew released her with a sigh of relief.

"Right, take a look. What do you think?"

Calypso stood, stretching out her arms and legs which had started to go numb.

"Careful! Don't mess up your hair unless you want me to spend another thirty minutes fixing it!" Drew admonished her with an annoyed expression on her face.

She quickly brought her arms back down to her sides.

Then she caught sight of herself in the reflection of the mirror.

"Wow," she breathed out.

Her appearance was such a far cry from what she was used to that it quite literally took her breath away. It was as if her natural features had been accentuated, as if all the parts of her that had once been considered beautiful were suddenly emphasized so that they grabbed the attention of the observer. Even her eyes, never a feature that she had thought particularly special, popped out at her with the help of the eyeliner that Drew had applied. With her current wide-eyed look and the right expression on her face, she realized that she could probably make Percy feel like he was the only person in the world.

Her hair was done up in some complicated style that she vaguely recognized, with an elegant bun at the top and some free-flowing curls cascading down her back. And the dress that Drew had given her drew attention to all the right places.

In a particularly vain moment, she felt that perhaps she could rival even Aphrodite's beauty. But she quickly destroyed that dangerous thought.

Calypso had come into this whole arrangement wondering if all this effort would really be worth it.

"What do you think? Not too bad, right?" Drew was giving her the look of an artist, critically inspecting her own work.

"I- think it's perfect. Thank you."

Drew laughed, "It's definitely not perfect. Mom would probably do a better job, and besides, I didn't have a whole lot of time to plan this. But… I think it should be good enough for whoever it is you're doing this for."

Calypso smiled at her; a real, genuinely happy smile. "No, it's more than enough."

oOo

She could tell that Argus was surprised at her appearance. For a man of few words, he certainly had a way of expressing himself with his body language. It was to be expected; she'd shown up every other time looking like her normal self. To suddenly show up in a skintight dress with a small bag slung over her shoulder, wearing makeup for the first time in her life would probably give anyone she was familiar with quite the shock.

To Argus's credit, her new look didn't seem to faze him for long. He just started up the van as per usual and off they went on their usual route to the city.

Time seemed to move extraordinarily slowly. Her thoughts were swirling with doubts and questions. What if Percy didn't like her new look? What if he wanted something different from her? What if… what if she'd misread him and he was just being nice to her?

Even as they entered the city proper, she couldn't rid herself of those thoughts.

Argus must have noticed her fidgeting restlessly in the passenger seat, because he tapped her on the shoulder as they waited at an intersection, a questioning look in his eyes.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," she reassured him, forcing a smile to her face.

He blinked at her. Well, most of his eyes did. She couldn't see all of them, but the ones she did see blinked.

"What?"

He contemplated her for a little longer before reaching into the armrest storage and pulling out a box.

He removed a small, thin, square package and handed it over to her.

Calypso had never seen anything like it before.

"What is this?"

Argus, of course, didn't answer her. But he did give her a thumbs up, which was weird since all that did was draw her attention to the blinking eye that was right on the pad of his thumb. And she could've sworn that she saw his lips twitch upwards, which for Argus was the equivalent of laughing uproariously.

"Apollo's Ultra-Thin Full Sensation Condoms," she read slowly off the box label in Argus's hand.

"Disclaimer: This product is only 99.9% effective. Sorry sis, don't be too harsh on the poor girl alright? At least leave her a nice patch of the forest!"

Her eyes snapped back up to Argus's face, who was the picture or innocence.

"ARGUS!"

oOo