Chapter two already. Wouldja look at that.

Chapter 2

Percy was still reeling the next morning. Remembering how Annabeth's phone contained nothing but one contact and a few photos of selective things, and one person. How she chased him? He was hooked.

He wanted to know why she was all these things. How was such a person formed?

His employer would, obviously, be pissed that he hadn't completed the task in the first twenty four hours, but Percy didn't care. As long as he got the job done sometime, right?

The door chimed again, and Percy resisted the urge to crane his neck and look. The little bronze bell hanging over the frame was going off frequently as people came and went. Delicious smells of hot brews oozed around the warm coffee shop. The hissing sound of the frothing cappuccino machine was joined by the voices of people exchanging pleasantries and friendly conversation. Footsteps knocked against the tiled floor, and every other minute a coffee or a tea or a pastry was sold with a friendly smile from the barista. The chairs were old yet comfortable, and the windows had charming fall decorations for the looming Thanksgiving day. A perfect little nook to escape the briskness fall had to give, and yet not over crowded.

This didn't seem like the place Annabeth would like, but this was the place she never failed to visit on her daily commute. According to Percy's source, Annabeth would spend up to an hour here every morning. It was where she fired herself up before work. 'Arranged her thoughts for the day ahead', as his employer had put it.

An odd creature. Percy shifted his newspaper. When out in public with intent to spy, a newspaper is an ideal thing to hide behind. Everytime a new customer came in with a ring from the bell he'd pretend to be fascinated by the article in front of his nose.

A year and a half since the Shellbrooke fire.

A whole neighbourhood burnt to ash. Very interesting indeed.

The local fire department must be ash-amed of themselves. He chuckled lightly to himself.

Cling. Another customer, another wrong person. Brown hair, arched nose, saggy cheeks. Percy re-shifted the newspaper. He didn't like sitting by the door. It was too drafty.

Bet those firefighters are just burning with embarrassment, he thought while his eyes glanced over the article one last time. On the next page was the real golden contribution to literature: The comic section.

Fire themed comments to commemorate all the people who lost their homes and the one death involved with the citys 'most confusing day'. Tragic or not, the comics were funny, and Percy got more than one weird look for laughing out loud.

Cling, the door was swished open again, allowing a burst of cold air to combat the dozy warmth shrouding the place. The click of heels against tile took him off guard, but Percy was pretty sure this time thanks to the sure footed lively sound of the steps. It just had to be her.

Low and behold, a woman with golden hair thrown up in a bun, a stiff briefcase at her side and a very fashionable work look accentuating her figure marched up to the counter.

Tea. She always got tea. She was no coffee girl.

After Annabeth picked up her drink and tossed a five in the tip jar, she turned on her heels and was about to pick her corner to brood when-

"Man, someone really got their beauty sleep last night." Percy couldn't help but smirk. His eyes danced as Annabeth's gaze landed on him. Instantly her expression turned from surprise to disdain, yet there was no dislike in her eyes. She looked down on him, but didn't think badly of him. Not yet at least.

"My house was broken into last night," she huffed in a scornful tone. Nimbly strutting over to Percy's booth and sliding in across from him without a second thought. Her briefcase hit the table with a loud thunk and her eyes met his in a bold cold hatred at the line she just spoke. Percy folded the newspaper up.

"Oh." Unease crept up Percy's neck like a dawdling hand readying to strangle him. "Really? What happened?"

"I woke up with some mongrel in my room probably trying to get lewd photos, the perv." Annabeth set her paper cup of tea down. With her jaw set in hate and her shoulders wound back tightly, she looked ready to attack the next person who dared enter that door.

Percy's chest was tight. Which was wrong, it shouldn't have been tight. Her words weren't supposed to affect him, his deeds weren't supposed to be sneaking back to him like this. The light guilt was lining his stomach in a deadly venom but he found his cool and let it melt away into the background of his mind. Covering that ridiculous little emotion with a little stone and finding his tranquility.

Water. Cold, like water.

"I thought you said let's never talk again," Percy pointed out. "Why are you telling me this?"

Annabeth visibly retracted a bit. A blush dusted her cheeks attractively as she looked away childishly. "My stupid best friend went to her grandpa's for Thanksgiving where the wifi is spotty at best. I need someone to talk to about it."

She was almost pouting. She went against her own word again and that had somehow damaged her pride. Percy never doubted that she'd still take him down if he said anything about it but...

"What? You don't have any other friends?" Percy couldn't help but poke a little fun.

"Look who's talking, loser," Annabeth scoffed. "Walking by yourself on the beach, and now alone in a coffee shop?"

"Eh… Touché," he said. Running his fingers absentmindedly over the hot rim of his cup.

"Anyway, I've been up since 3 a.m. trying to track the stupid bastard down. The numbskull police couldn't find him."

Percy pursed his lips sympathetically. "Any luck?"

"Not yet, but give it time." She peeled back the lid of her cup in one smooth motion to let the wispy steam find the channels in the air. "The police say that whatever the dufus was looking for, he didn't get, probably one of my blueprints, so I'm getting some workmen in this afternoon to set up a bomb ass security system. Then, if he sneaks back in, I'll have him by the teeth."

She spoke with so much hate, and wrath. She spoke like a warrior headed into battle. Her eyes were burning again, and her words were clear yet somehow Percy could read between the lines.

Even warriors aren't fearless.

"Are you… okay?" He didn't know how she'd react. She was so barricaded. According to her ex-fiance, Mr. BigMoney, she rarely let a soul into her life.

"What do you mean am I okay?" Annabeth huffed, her full lips quipped down.

"I mean…" Percy trailed. Then he sighed. The guilt was needle working its way up his esophagus again. It was weird. It was unnatural. It was out of place. How was she making him feel this way? "Some weirdo was in your house, in your room at three in the morning. That crap is scary."

"I'm fine," Annabeth insisted with a hefty scoff. Crossing her slender arms across her chest as if it would explain everything she was feeling.

"Really? Because… If I were in your position, I would be pretty freaked out," he confessed.

And he would be. Sure, Percy knew a million ways to kill someone, but as the holder of the coveted title of 'best assassin', people were out for him too. Particularly other assassins. Nico didn't understand his level of security or the constant danger he had over his head just by living with Percy, but the threat was real. He never stayed in one place for more than a year. Sweat inducing nightmares of waking up with a barrel pressed against his temple and a sick smile coming from his rival plagued him almost nightly. He was the hunter, and yet he was constantly being hunted. It was the sobering reality of being part of a vicious food chain.

But it also gave him insight. He had a distant sense of what his victims felt.

"I chased the moron down the street with a knife." Annabeth's cheeks grew pinker. Her eyes were set and hard as if she absolutely had to prove this point. "I'm not scared."

"Okay," Percy relented while putting up his hands in a surrendering sort of way. "But… it's nothing to be ashamed of if you are."

"I'm fine," Annabeth growled. Roughly snatching up her tea and sloshing a few drops over the side. The hot liquid was obviously burning her fingers from the way her face twisted into a brief wince, but she pretended like nothing happened. Her eyes were still in turmoil like a storm of darkening emotions. "Why did I even bother talking to you?"

Collecting her briefcase, she marched out the door. Not giving way to people in her way and glaring daggers at every gawking passerby.

Maybe her object should be the ocean, Percy thought. She's just as thunderous, and even more mysterious.

.:oOo:.

He could see her from where he sat on the opposite building. She was alone, avidly working on her computer with a pair of large lens glasses perched on her nose. She knew him now, he could lure her to the roof and push her off. Nobody knew her well, they'd write it off as suicide. Better yet, her best friend was too far away to make any palpable claims before the first forty eight hours were up. By then, Percy would be gone.

Who are you Annabeth Chase? He couldn't help but wonder. Remembering her eyes. Her expressive, sharp, beautiful eyes as they twisted with anger. Chewing on his lip in a quiet thoughtfulness, Percy swung his legs over the building's side. I wanna know.

.:oOo:.

"Hey loser, you're in my spot."

The ocean was rough. Peaks of frothy waves danced and clashed in an effortless battle amongst the deep blue hue it had become. An empty canvas of blank and grey was the sky, much like Annabeth's house, and the air seemed colder than before, sharper to breathe in. Percy was expecting the impatient call of Mr. BigMoney, asking if he had completed his task. As long as he wasn't in hot water, or his reputation wasn't on the line, he figured he could take a bit longer to fill this curious void he found eating out his brain.

"What if this is my spot?" Percy challenged. Looking up at her scowling face to grin loosely, almost teasingly.

He never teased.

The red returned to her cheeks in a second. Distaste and frustration started building up in her eyes. Percy prepared to be yelled at, but it never came.

Her look melted, and her stance fell back in defeat. Begrudgingly, she dropped her blanket into the sand and slipped to the ground beside him. The wind mde her cheeks still seem flushed and bright, and her hair was stuck up in a messy ponytail with loose curls framing her face.

She had on mitts today, with matching earmuffs. It made her look less demanding, or intimidating.

"What's your endgame, Percy?" she groaned almost miserably. "Why are you everywhere I go? Why do you talk to me?"

She looked at him with an honest searching look, totally opposite to her normally angry closed off expression. At every turn she was contradicting herself, and Percy found it all incredible. He found her incredible.

"Endgame?" he mused over the word for a brief second. Knowing sound and true what his real endgame was to this all. But what was his endgame with Annabeth? What was she to him? Why was he going through the trouble of this?

"I just want to talk," he shrugged. Looking into his lap with a heavy feeling in his heart. "Maybe I'm weird, or odd, or… maybe I'm just a little bit lonely."

A twist tugged at his chest. Unexpectedly, this had become very personal. He never relayed details about himself to anyone. Not to bankers, or friendly passerbys or even pretty girls flirting with him over drinks. First slipping out his name, and now the status of his feelings? Annabeth had this way of unconsciously tearing his guard down. Maybe it was because she was what was called a dead man walking.

She was so close to dying she was practically already dead, although she didn't know it. He could tell her anything, and she wouldn't have anyone else to relay his words to. She would die with his secrets and he knew it.

Because I'm going to kill her anyways.

"Oh." Annabeth's reaction wasn't that grand. Slipping her gaze to the ocean after a moment, they watched waves swallow waves and seagulls bob around in a contemplative silence. The smell of the seawater filled Percy's lungs in a vigorous crisp sensation as he sat there content. Annabeth's presence nudged him in the heart slightly as he remembered what he was supposed to do.

Keep it cool, fluid. Water.

"I was scared." It was barely above a whisper, but it was firm and unapologetically said. When Percy turned to Annabeth, she was already looking at him earnestly. Her eyes matched that of the clouds twirling over the ocean. Contradicting herself again. "If you want to just talk, I'll talk. But that's it. I've been played by too many people in my life to have friends, Percy."

Percy shrugged again, her guarded personality was very familiar to him. One of his many questions about her was answered already.

"I get it," he assured with a comrade grin. "The system is a mess."

Annabeth jolted backwards. Her eyes wide with disbelief as her breath left in one shocked exhale. How? Written across her face as she stared at him numbly. A bit of betrayal was already sparkling in the depths of her eyes.

"Takes a foster kid to know one, right?" Percy said with a half made grin. "I mean, some foster stories are total successes, don't get me wrong, just some- most actually, are…"

"Disasters," Annabeth finished with a grim look.

"Yeeaah," Percy shared her expression and chuckled nervously. "So let's not talk about boring pasts and jumping from family to family."

"Or ex's" Annabeth added suddenly. A sour tone in her voice.

"Or jobs," Percy added carefully while looking out over the sandy shores. Relishing the fact there was no one else on the beach with them.

Could just dunk her in the water now… Nobody would ever know...

"Sooo… if we're going to talk… what should we talk about?" Annabeth pulled her knees to her chest. Her curious gaze burrowing into him.

Percy felt warm.

"Books?" He suggested with a cock of his head.

"Books." Annabeth nodded. The faint ghost of a smile started to light up her face almost timidly.

.:oOo:.

Annabeth was like the ocean. There was no way around it. She was fierce and powerful and a force to be reckoned with, but when she was calm it was like the world stood still. She was so rich with knowledge, Percy didn't even know where to begin. He could name, say, or do something and she'd have some interesting facts about it. However, she never spoke her facts in a know-it-all manner. Just offhandedly. As if she were blasé about her own intelligence.

Percy often lay face up on his bed, staring endlessly at the blankness his ceiling possessed and wondered about her. How she knew so much, how she got in the foster system, how she got her way to the top of the architecture ladder.

After their meeting on the beach, he saw her two more times before he got the phone call. A leaden thunk filled his heart as his little burner phone chirped and vibrated from his jeans pocket. Barely moving from his position on his bed. Trying to pretend like it wasn't there, that the call wasn't coming in.

With a dull ache, Percy reached in and pulled out the little ringing machine. Quietly he pressed answer without ever glancing at the caller ID. He knew who it was.

"Yeah?"

"Is it done?!" the voice barked impatiently. Percy tried to recall his face, but found that he couldn't. Part of him was bristling at how this man used to call Annabeth 'his girl'.

Water. You have to be water.

"No," Percy answered listlessly. "The situation is a bit more meticulous than I thought."

"What do you mean meticulous!" Mr. BigMoney hissed darkly. His voice lowered to a murderous level as Percy felt the urge to snap back at him rise.

Water.

"I mean, the target has avoided a situation where they are alone. They've always been accompanied," Percy lied through his teeth. Squeezing his eyes shut as a self loathing came washing over his system. His nerves started to peel in a ragged line up his spine.

Cool clear smooth water.

"WHAT?!"

"And I have to remind you that I operate on no tolerance terms. If I'm caught, I will relay employer information. This kind of job requires precision." Percy's voice was cold and calm. He counted down the moments as the line went dead on the other side for a few measly seconds. Letting his eyes wander around his bare room.

"Well… just take the first chance you get. Okay? This is a time sensitive matter."

Percy breathed deeply. "Understood."

The line beeped out, and Percy was left to stare endlessly at his ceiling. Annabeth's face pulled up in his mind. One of her rare smiles lingered there like a lost dream.

How does one kill the ocean?

Seeya next week.