The first time John Pitt (yes, Pitt like the movie star; no, no relation) realised he was in over his head, it was a regular night in New York and he was behind on his rent. He'd lost his job months ago and had been living off his savings and money he split from the robberies a friend of his had been organising lately.

He didn't know any of the other guys and the gigs were small: convenience stores, gas stations, a couple of restaurants in Chinatown. Mac would always hand him his cut afterwards and John would split, using the money to keep himself afloat.

Originally, it was only meant to be for a couple of jobs, just until he was back on his feet. His resume wasn't long but he had experience, any place would be lucky to have him on board. But the longer the wait between calls came, the more John began to see how good Mac's jobs were. He picked up a couple more and soon, John Pitt didn't have to shower in freezing water or eat leftovers. He could afford to go out, have a night on the town.

And that's when he realised he was behind on his rent.

His landlord was an ass but he was an ass with a shotgun. The handgun Mac had given him looked like a water pistol in comparison. John called Mac, asking if he had work for him but an associate of his told him that Mac was lying low for a while. The cops had busted one of his properties last week and all jobs were off for the time being.

So John had to make a decision.

The choice was simple and he took off with the handgun tucked into the back of his jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, promising himself he'd only take as much as he needed.

It worked. For the first month. But by then, he'd gotten used to having a little extra spending money, gotten used to feeling as though he was worth something, like he could stand up beside every other guy on the street and say if I wanted to, I could take everything you got.

And that was when John got carried away.

This particular night, he'd scouted the restaurants, stadiums, supermarkets, malls but when he spotted them heading inside the movie theatre, he knew they were the ones.

They were just kids, shorter than him and definitely skinnier. The guy looked lanky to the point of scrawny and the chick looked about a hundred miles out of his league. They were smiling and laughing together, her arm tucked into his as they entered the theatre. He was telling her about the movie they were about to see, some Sci-Fi post-apocalyptic number but it didn't matter.

John had gotten good at reading people through their belongings and he knew they had to have valuables on them. Their coats were thick and warm, not like his thin sweatshirt and she wore something shiny around her neck. When they paid for their tickets, John could see something gold peeking out from inside the kid's wallet and he grinned, ducking into the next building on the street to wait for them.

"…just don't think it's feasible." The girl was saying with a teasing smile.

"That's because you're thinkin' too small, Sunshine." The kid replied, impatiently. "I mean, just think-!"

"I am thinking," she interrupted. "And developing an army of robots to serve humanity seems like a terrible idea no matter how you look at it."

"But they wouldn't be an army!" the kid argued. "They're like…servants, I guess. Kinda like the servants on Ogygia."

John stopped listening after that as the pair turned the corner, unaware of him following their footsteps. When they turned into a thin crevice between buildings suddenly, he could hardly believe his luck. They must've taken a wrong turn, he thought, gleefully. Because that alley was a dead end and he had them trapped.

He swung into the alley behind them, whipping his gun out of his jeans, hood up and face sufficiently shadowed. He opened his mouth to bark orders but stopped when he saw both kids standing, quite casually, looking back at him. John licked his lips and tried again. "Give me your wallets. Both of you." He growled. They're kids, he told himself. They're pathetic, snivelling rich kids who don't deserve what they got.

He wasn't expecting the kid to look relieved. "Man, I was worried for a second there," he told his girlfriend. "I thought for sure we had a dracanae on our tail."

"I thought so too…" the girl agreed, looking puzzled. "You heard the hissing, right?"

"Aren't you listening, fuckers? Give me your wallets. Now."

The chick raised a brow. "Why?" she asked, confused.

"Why?" John repeated, narrowing his eyes and shaking his gun again, menacingly. "Because I have a gun, princess, that's why."

"You also have shoes, it doesn't mean I'm going to give you my coat." She replied, matter-of-factly.

The kid looked almost amused. "Calypso, he's trying to mug us."

"Not trying." John snapped, feeling shaken by their lack of fear. "I am mugging you. Now give me your wallets and cell phones or I'll leave you here as corpses."

"I don't think Hades would like that much." The chick countered. "Littering and all. And he'll get blamed."

"On the contrary," her boyfriend said. "I think he'd love us dead and buried. Not too fond of me I'm afraid. No idea why, I'm utterly charming."

"Of course you are." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey!" John bellowed. "Stop talking and hand over the cash, bitch!"

The kid's amused expression turned still. "Don't call her that." He told him, firmly like John was back in elementary school getting told off by his teacher.

"Leo, it's okay." The chick told him, soothingly. "I've heard much worse by much better."

"It's not okay," he corrected, irritably. "Calypso, you can't just let people call you that kind of thing."

"Why not?" she replied, combatively. "They call me Titan and traitor and snake behind my back. You can't get offended over every little thing."

John switched off the safety and waved his gun. "I'm only going to say it one more time." He snarled.

"Stop waving that thing around, man, you'll hurt somebody." The kid waved him off, impatiently. John could hardly believe his ears. He was twenty seven years old, about forty pounds heavier than this kid and at least three inches taller. What the hell did these kids think this was? A party?

His vision bathed in red and he thought about shooting them out of sheer rage when a faint hissing noise entered the alley. "Did you hear that?" the kid murmured and his girl nodded slowly removing the glimmering bronze from her neck. Right before John's eyes, the necklace chain began to grow into a bronze sword engraved with an undulating wave down the middle and the pendant dropped off the end, forming a large circular shield-

But that wasn't right, he thought immediately and suddenly the sword was a regular hunting knife and the lid from the trash can beside her.

The kid held an enormous lighter in his right hand that made his whole hand look like it was ablaze and John frowned, unsure now that there were other weapons in the game. But the kids weren't looking him at him. In fact, they seemed to have forgotten him altogether.

The hissing was growing louder and John felt a sense of unease building in his stomach. Was this a joke? An ambush? Was Mac trying to test him? "What the hell-" John began when a low, hissing voice cut him off.

"Mortalsssss are ssssso eassssily fooled…" it spoke and he was suddenly catapulted forward to the very back of the alley, behind the kids.

He watched as the shadows knotted together, revealing an armoured, green skinned woman with two twisting snake tails for legs-

"What?" John muttered as his mind recalibrated. It was a homeless woman but like none John had ever seen in New York. Her skin was sallow and dry like scales and tinged green from the poor lighting. She wore a vicious grin on her face and her hair was oily and greasy. In her grip she held two enormous knives like the girl's but they didn't look as clean. These were covered in blood-coloured rust. Or at least, what John Pitt prayed to whatever deity might help his sorry ass, was rust.

"I knew there was something following us." The kid muttered, suddenly drawing out a-

John frowned. No, this time he really did see a bronze hammer.

The homeless lady snarled and launched herself at the girl who used the trash lid to brace against the woman's knives and shove her away. John Pitt had never seen a bum moved that fast though because in another blink of an eye, she was back, slashing away at the chick and cringing whenever the kid let his lighter explode out in a stream of fire.

"Half-bloodssssss tassssste better raw…" the homeless lady spat, launching her fangs- no, wait her knives- at the kid who swung his hammer into the side of her head in a blow that should've killed her. But no, it barely seemed to have injured her and the fight continued, each kid taking turns defending and lashing out at the crazy bum.

"What the hell?" John whimpered, cradling his head as the chick called out to her boyfriend.

"Leo, cover me!" she'd lost her knife on the other side of the alley and she dove for it right as the lighter exploded again, roasting the woman's oily hair. She howled, sufficiently distracted as the chick grabbed her sword- no, knife, it had to be a knife, what else could it be?

But she wasn't quick enough. The homeless crazy lady seemed to grab the girl with her foot somehow and swung her with freakish force across the alley. "Calypso!?" the kid called, sounding alarmed but the girl just rolled over with a grimace.

She gasped suddenly, lifting the trash can lid to her face as the homeless woman lunged for her, beating away at the flimsy lid- no bronze shield- no trash lid- like she was possessed. Pinned against the wall, the girl could only defend herself as her boyfriend sprinted not towards them but back to where John was cowering in the filthy gutter to one side, next to an enormous dumpster.

"Hang on!" he roared as he set to work.

He inserted himself between the wall and the dumpster and heaved, pushing it away from the back wall. With fingers quicker than John could focus, he reached out and yanked on a section of pipes and outlets of the restaurant that backed on to the alley. Bizarrely the pipes turned bright red like they'd been heated and bent easily like melting butter beneath his hands. As he worked, he batted away a bright yellow tag with black bold writing on it that hung from one pipe and John cringed backwards at the look of concentration on his face. He used that bronze hammer of his to mangle them into a single shaft which he then pointed at the dumpster and held the lighter to.

As a kid who had spent quite a lot of time experimenting with burning shit as fast as he could, John eyes widened as he realised what the yellow tag on the pipes was: a warning not to touch the gas main.

"Stop!" he called but all too late, John Pitt realised the kid's brain was already ten moves ahead.

The dumpster caught alight spectacularly and under the pressure of the explosion, launched forward right as the girl's shield began to falter, sweeping the homeless lady off her feet and across the street with a deafening roar of flames.

Cars screeched to a halt, blaring their horns as the guy raced towards his girlfriend, helping her to her feet. They exchanged a few words and the guy brushed the hair from her sweaty forehead. She smiled at him, softly and clasped his hand before they both followed the path of the dumpster to the opposite side of the street, where people were crowded around, staring with stunned eyes.

At a loss, John Pitt staggered to his feet and followed, unable to truly believe his eyes, gun still clenched in his sweaty fist.

He reached them just as the girl leaned down next to the homeless woman and ran her knife through the injured but miraculously alive crazy woman who was gargling and twitching even as she died. As soon as the blade pierced her, she disappeared into golden ash like she'd never existed at all.

"What the hell?!" he roared, hoarsely. "You just killed her!"

"Killed who?" a man beside him asked, looking at John like he was the crazy one.

"Did you do that?" the guy asked her in a low tone.

She shrugged in reply, curls glowing auburn in light of the still burning dumpster fire. "I have a way with the Mist, what can I say?"

John Pitt mind was starting to fracture under the weight of what he'd witnessed and he lifted his gun towards the pair, earning screams and shouts of fear from the crowd who backed away immediately. Bright red and blue flashing lights began to draw nearer as the cops showed up but he couldn't focus on that now. "They killed her!" he screamed, nonsensically. "She attacked them but they killed her! You all saw it, it was right there!"

"Dude!" the crazy guy, Leo, boomed, irritably. "What did I say about waving that thing around? You're gonna take an eye out if you're not careful-"

Unable to bear any more, John Pitt pointed vaguely and let loose three shots right before the cop tackled him.

Only one of them hit anything.

The first time Calypso felt true, mortal pain was the same day Leo decided that their dates would never be boring. It was also the first time John Pitt ever successfully shot someone, despite his threats to the contrary.

"I told you to stop-" Leo began, angrily when a small gasp caught his attention.

"Leo?" Calypso said in a small voice, glancing down at her arm. "I-I think I'm hurt."

"What do you mean you think you're-?" he began, turning to see his girlfriend's soft beige coat turning red in her left arm. His heart, stomach and just about ever other organ in his body dropped like they were suddenly made of lead. "Oh gods."

"I don't think I've ever felt this before," she noted, a little faintly as Leo made her sit on the curb, the crowd's attention focused on the lunatic being yanked away by the police. The Mist was influencing them away from her, which Leo appreciated as he looked over the spreading bloodstain.

His breath caught in his throat and all he could see was the crimson blood blossoming across the fabric of her coat near her bicep. Gods above, no.

"Shit." He cursed, vehemently. "Shit, no, alright, lemme just-" he slowly peeled off her coat and rolled up the arm of her long sleeved sweater dress, the green fabric already dark and sticky.

"This hurts." She said, finally. "A lot."

"What, you never got shot as a goddess?" Leo teased, his face pale and tense but trying to make her feel better.

He ended up using her dagger to slice away the fabric. Calypso winced as he did but Leo nearly gasped with relief when he saw the wound. "It's just a graze." He told her, breathing hard. "We'll get you back to camp and Will can fix you up."

"Why do I feel all…shaken?" she wondered aloud as Leo helped her to her feet and whistled for a cab. Something must've told them he wasn't up for being messed around with tonight and one who had stopped to watch the arrest came to a halt by the curb.

"It's shock." Leo told her, as they entered the cab.

"Farm Road." He told the driver, bluntly and caught sight of a pair of horns, not unlike a satyr's though somewhat rougher, peeking out from his hair. "There's a drachma in it for you if you get us back to camp fast."

"Rough night, huh, half bloods?" The monster driver turned his head all the way around til his head was facing backwards with a wide grin and a third eye on his forehead. Leo didn't know what kind of monster it was but it wasn't trying to eat them so he called that a win.

"You have no idea." Leo mumbled as Calypso began poking her arm. It was deep graze, the flesh standing proud and jagged on either side of the bullet track. Blood seeped from it even as Leo tried to tie it off with her scarf. "Stop that!" he scolded.

"It feels so strange…" she muttered. "Mortal pain feels…hot."

"I suppose godly pain doesn't?" Leo asked back as the cab sped towards Camp.

"Not at all," she replied, sounding a little slurred. The adrenaline was messing with her system and she winced now, the pain flowing more steadily to her brain. "It's cold, like ice needles."

When the camp came into view, Leo chucked the monster cabbie his last drachma and helped Calypso towards camp. She was stumbling now, the pain receptors kicking in overtime.

"Have you ever been shot before?" she mumbled as they stepped through the camp borders and made their way towards the Infirmary.

"Surprisingly, no." he muttered as they stumbled up the steps of the Big House.

"What happened?" Jason called out with a yawn as he passed by. He looked like he'd come from the fire pit near the cabins. His eyes widened when he spotted Calypso's bloody arm. "Holy Jupiter, are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. Calypso, however, might be the first demigod at camp to get shot by a mortal." Leo replied, dryly.

"Stop that." She smacked his chest. "You're being dramatic."

"You got shot, Calypso." He pointed out, exasperated.

"Who got shot?" Chiron asked, poking his head out of his study with curious eyes that froze when he saw Leo ushering Calypso inside the infirmary. "Gods above. Someone had better call for Will. Jason?" he called and the son of Jupiter left with a single nod toward the campfire again.

"I'm fine." Calypso said, her mind beginning to go hazy from the sharp sting of the wound. "It's not even so bad."

"I didn't realise monsters were using automatic weapons nowadays." Chiron noted as the former goddess sat on the saggy bunk, Leo having pushed the white curtain back impatiently.

"They aren't. We met up with a dracanae-" Leo began.

"Dracanae don't shoot people." Will Solace entered the infirmary, Jason behind him.

"Well that was after a man asked for our wallets." Calypso informed him with a weak smile. "Hello Will."

"Hey Calypso." The healer replied, setting down on a stool beside her with a red emergency kit box at his side. "So you got mugged in New York huh?"

"Sure did." Leo rolled his eyes. "We thought we were being followed so we turned down an alley to check and the loser comes swooping in with his handgun asking for money. Calypso asked him why we should have to give him stuff just because he had a gun."

"And then he shot her?" Jason asked, looking furious. Leo appreciated the support but he couldn't muster anything more than a sickening mix of exhaustion, relief and anxiety for Calypso who had shed her ruined coat.

"No, then we got attacked by what we actually thought was following us." Leo grimaced as Will told Calypso it might sting a little. He dabbed away the blood and applied antiseptic, carefully. "And then we got into a fight with it while the moron with the gun huddled in the corner."

"Mortals." Chiron rolled his eyes. "And then?"

"Leo launched a dumpster at it." Calypso continued, flinching as Will took out his needle and thread.

"A what?"

"A dumpster." Leo shrugged. "Hey, I had a gas line, a flame and a large heavy object. I found a way to work with it."

"We checked to make sure it was dead." Calypso added, sensibly. "But when we got there, we forgot the…what did you call him?"

"Moron with the gun?"

"Yes, him. We didn't see him coming with us and watching us kill her until it was too late. I made sure to cover her as best I could from everyone else but the man, well he saw everything." She looked down, shamefaced.

"And that's when he went crazy and started shooting." Leo finished, gritting his teeth. "The cops took over from there."

"Well, it's deep but it could be a lot worse." Will told her as he tied off her stitches carefully. "I'd take ambrosia for the next few days to make sure it heals but you'll be fine."

"Thanks man." Leo nodded, sighing.

"Perhaps next time, I should choose the venue for your outing?" Chiron proposed, warily as Will said goodnight and left.

"Don't bother," Leo slumped, unthinkingly. "We can't go on another date."

Calypso's dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Bronze bulls, no!" he rushed to say, eyes wide. "Where did you hear that phrase?"

"Malcolm explained it to me." She replied, disgruntled. "Why can we not go out again?"

"Because every date we've ever been on has ended in monster attacks or impromptu quests or problems!" he ranted with frustration. He put the fact that Pretty Owl Boy was teaching his girlfriend words like 'break up' to the back of his mind. For now.

Jason began to snicker. "Man, you think any of us don't have the same problem?" he looked ready to cry with laughter. "Last week, Piper took me ice skating at the Rockefeller Centre and she got cornered by empousai in the bathroom. You should've heardthe screams when I tried to help."

"Neither of you know the meaning of the words 'dating trouble'," Chiron added, stamping his hooves. "Why, Dillinger was killed in the Cyclopes invasion of the nineteen-thirties while trying to meet his girlfriend for his birthday! Son of Hermes, I believe…No matter," the centaur coughed and left the infirmary. "Rest well, all of you."

Jason clapped Leo's shoulder and nodded to Calypso before he left as well. "I'll spend the night here." Calypso told her boyfriend, tiredly. "I feel exhausted all of a sudden."

"Welcome to what demigods call life." he joked.

"At least the movie was okay." She tried to salvage but her giggle betrayed her. "Leo, we'll have other dates."

"I just wish we could stop getting interrupted." He complained. "Is it too much to ask that I get to keep you all to myself for one night?"

"Apparently. How about after your birthday, we'll take Festus somewhere, huh?" Calypso suggested, lightly. "Just you and me."

Leo winced, theatrically. "I dunno, you heard what Chiron said about Dillinger being killed on his birthday…"

She shoved him and winced when the strain pulled her stitches. "It'll be fun. We'll get leave from camp from Chiron. We can find somewhere quiet and hang out, just the two of us. No monsters."

"After my party right?" Leo checked slyly.

"Of course…" In her tired state, she nodded absentmindedly and then froze, shoving him even harder. "Leo! You're not meant to know!"

"What?" he laughed, defending himself from her fists. "Percy can't keep a secret to save his life. Besides, it was a guess. You just confirmed it."

"Fine but at least act surprised." She ordered.

"I will."

"I mean it."

"I'll practise, just for you."

"Good. Now go to bed, let me sleep."

"Sure Sunshine." He kissed her forehead and she surprised him, pulling his mouth to hers.

"Goodnight Wonder Boy." She muttered as he let the door slip shut behind him.