Alabaster: The Delicate Dance of Chance II

Author's note: Are you ready for fluff? ALL THE FLUFF?! And some angst—BUT MOSTLY FLUFF!?

Alabaster didn't remember much about getting off the stage. He did remember shaking so violently that he feared missing a step on the side stairs. When the crowd swarmed them, he was vaguely aware of Pax warding them off and navigating them through the mass of people.

Axel made some announcement about taking a girl for the first dance and snatched the hand of Charlie—their five year old mascot—who giggled with glee. This caused an uproar—both that Axel was dancing and that he'd picked Charlie as his first partner. Alabaster could practically hear Lucille's future squeals about how cute it was.

But, that's all he could recollect. There was a blank spot, where Alabaster must have shut down from the humiliation and horror of being on stage without any warning. Coherence came when Pax shoved Alabaster to the punch table.

With a few comments that Alabaster didn't hear, Pax diverted the remaining admirers. Several monsters and campers were still glancing their way, and a few of his siblings waved at him enthusiastically. But, this was manageable. This was distant.

Pax shoved a plastic cup of punch into Alabaster's trembling hand. His touch lingered over Alabaster's fingers for a moment, likely noticing the quiver. Pax went on his tiptoes to whisper in Alabaster's ear, as quiet as he could while still being heard over the music. "Your Mist show was amazing."

Alabaster jerked back.

He wanted to hit Pax. Though, he knew it was misdirected anger. Who he should be hitting was Matthias or Jack, who likely planned the grand entrance on stage. Or—

The music increased in volume, encouraging shouts of delirium. Monsters and campers tangled on the dance floor. Alabaster had never been to a school dance, but this looked like the nightmare version of what he assumed one would be. They were in a gymnasium with a stage on one end. Tables were scattered along the walls for food, drink and loitering. The back had interactive games, like Pin the Sword in the Demigod: Camp Half-Blood Edition. The center was reserved for dancing.

And, in the middle of that dance floor was Axel Pax, bowing to a thrilled, giggling five-year-old. He handed Charlie off to Chris (likely with strict instructions to escort her off the dance floor, least she be crushed by mingling Cyclopes). Then he turned a smile to Lucille. With the smooth demeanor of a vampiric count, he transferred into the next dance. No one was going to say no to the attractive, typically reserved, stoic and heroic character.

The reserved, stoic and heroic character that caused that nonsense on stage. While Alabaster wouldn't have been up there if it wasn't for Jack or Matthias, Axel had forced him into panicked improvisation and showmanship.

"I must disgrace Axel Pax," he growled.

Pax startled. Over the edge of his plastic cup, he said, "I'm not sure what maniacal soliloquy you had internally, but the rest of the audience is still confused."

Alabaster snorted. "I'm going to punish your brother. Maybe I can tell Lucille to spread the word that he's looking for a male partner."

Pax laughed. He set his cup back on the table and drummed his fingers beside it. "Oh, dancing with boys won't bother him."

Axel paused twirling Lucille in front of her girlfriend, Echidna. Echidna wasn't the daughter of Summanus' (the god of nocturnal thunder's) real name, but Pax's nickname caught because of her prickly personality. Despite this, when Axel offered, and Lucille shoved Echidna towards him, she begrudgingly accepted the dance. She shot a quick glance at Charlie. This was incredible progress—she couldn't get within ten feet of men a year ago or be separated from Charlie for more than a few seconds.

Alabaster tore his eyes from Axel and examined Pax skeptically. From what he'd seen, Axel had all the traits, and the cultural background, to be homophobic.

The thirteen-year-old shrugged. "This isn't exactly a no dancing with people wearing the same underwear kinda place."

A preliminary glance around proved there were girls dancing with girls and boys dancing with boys. It was with such commonality that the gesture seemed to mean nothing about their inclination. Alabaster wasn't sure how that worked here, since that would have been a social taboo in his Cotillion classes.

Pax's smile became distant and sad as he watched Axel save Echinda from tripping all over herself. Pax leaned against the drink table. "Besides, between the circus and our sister, he had to learn not to care. She was a crossdresser and made sure we were comfortable with all sorts of people."

Opening up twice in one night, Alabaster mused. They hardly spoke of their siblings, other than that Pax missed them. Their near death experience must have made Pax feel more relaxed around Alabaster. The younger boy seemed to have something on his mind recently. Alabaster often caught Pax zoning out in the laboratory, staring at Alabaster's sleeve or spell book. Alabaster had wondered if it was for a prank.

The smile on Pax's lips quirked into a smirk. His eyes focused back on the present. "Axel doesn't favor dancing with boys though, unlike me," he said, giving Alabaster a wink.

Alabaster snorted. "Stop messing around."

Pax looked away and popped his cheeks. He straightened his posture, released the table, and turned towards Alabaster. "I want to have fun at this party. Your whole vengeance on my brother for ambiguous reasons—"

"Humiliating me—"

"-that's villainy and great and stuff, but I don't want you on it all night. You've got his weakest link right here." Pax pointed both his thumbs at himself. "But I'm not going to help you brainstorm ideas unless you really try to have fun tonight. Now let's go stuff our faces with Nachos and show Morpheus how to really dance."

Alabaster stared at him. "We have two different definitions of 'fun.' The most probable outcome to incur enjoyment is seeking vengeance."

Pax pouted. He glanced down the refreshments table. "You're my babysitter. I going to make a bee line to the first nut-based desert I see and shove it into my mouth if we don't go play on Matthias' Wii , and it'll be your fault."

"I won't save you from anaphylactic shock if you do that," Alabaster said. He frowned. Pax would be integral to bringing Axel down. And they were stuck here for at least another hour-and-a-half.

"What's the best game on Matthias' Wii ?" Alabaster asked.

Alabaster wanted to complain about Mario Party's reliance on a random number generator and how it devalued the skill level of the player, but that would require him to admit he relied on that random number generator to win. When playing against actual gamers like Matthias and Chris, he knew there would be little hope in him winning in something like Super Smash or Tekken.

Out of the games they played, his favorite was poker. All magic was legal. He won Pax ten Reese's Sticks before Prometheus came over and threatened his reigning championship. Alabaster's "pallor tricks" didn't seem to work as well on the Titan and Prometheus's bluffing skills were godly. Well, titanly.

Pax decided Prometheus's impending win meant he needed to eat all of his candy at once, something Alabaster suspected he'd regret in about ten minutes.

Once the Cyclops bouncer wrestled the last six Reese's Sticks from Pax, he hopped to Alabaster's side. His brown and hazel eyes twinkled while he rubbed the chocolate and peanut butter off his chin.

Alabaster didn't realize he'd been smirking with each his wins. Between Pax's excitement and cheering and Alabaster's strategizing, he'd forgotten where they were.

Pax snagged Alabaster's sleeve. "Come on!" he cried before Prometheus could gloat. The tuxedo-wearing Titan spread his long, thin fingers over the cards as Pax dragged Alabaster away from the table.

Once they stumbled from the game sector, Pax stopped short. He gave Alabaster a huge grin, pulling up his shirt to reveal two Reese's Sticks hidden along his beltline.

Alabaster snorted. "I'm surprised you didn't steal more."

Pax winked and dropped his shirt. "We could go back for round two later. For now…" He took a few steps further onto the dance floor, tugging Alabaster's sleeve again.

Alabaster's tranquility shattered. He stared at Pax, listening to the thud of the subwoofer and watching the mass of bodies moving behind the Belizean boy.

Alabaster hadn't realized it, and he would never admit to it, but he'd been having fun. At the thought of merging into that flowing blob of people, monsters, sweat, and social anxiety, fun evaporated. Cold sweat formed on his brow.

"No," he said, yanking his arm back from Pax.

The younger boy's pout returned. "I'm going to make you a shirt that says that." [footnote 1]

They stood there, others swirling around them. Someone bumped their shoulders while running by, shouting, "Don't be lame and have no shame! Warlock, creep out of your lair, dance, and have fun!"

His face went hot with humiliation. When Alabaster raised his wrist to check the time, he found his fist clenched. An hour had passed while they were playing games. Had the passerbyer's mockery not bothered him so much, he might have marveled over how fast the first hour went. He assumed it would be agonizing.

But, he could tell the next hour would be much worse. He thought about his laboratory and how much he could get done while everyone else was out. After the Roman attack, everyone should have been working to move and restore the building, not throwing a party "in their honor."

"This is just a thinly veiled excuse for everyone to feel good about acting like idiots," Alabaster said. "And a waste of time."

Alabaster couldn't remember how Pax got him to play along with this stupid party. Then, it came back: Axel forcing him into showmanship. The humiliation turned to anger. He didn't need the younger Pax brother to concoct something against Axel. "I'm heading back to camp," Alabaster said.

He turned to leave. Pax frantically grabbed his arm. "Wait!" Pax shouted. "Wait—we were having—you're my babysitter! I'll choke on tree nuts and get kidnapped by bad guys if you're not around!"

Considering Pax's ward, Jack, was a schizophrenic with a history of attacking his family, Alabaster thought his concept of "bad guys" was a bit skewed.

Alabaster scowled. "Ajax, you're thirteen. You're too old for a babysitter. Grow up."

Pax's eyes widened. The rims reddened. He blinked rapidly and looked away. "We don't have to dance," he whispered.

Alabaster yanked his arm back again. "This isn't dancing. This isn't music. This is a group of unskilled buskers following a formula to produce 'musical' garbage because people don't know how to express their hormones without it."

Shock wove their mouths shut.

Musical garbage.

Someone else had said that around Alabaster. He remembered sitting in the back of the family's Mercedes Bends, visiting his father in the hospital. The chauffer cheerfully turned on music for them. His grandfather fired the chauffer, saying what Alabaster had said: that this type of music was a cheap replica of what real musicians could create.

Just like his grandfather thought Alabaster's magic was a cheap replica of science that couldn't save his father.

Alabaster couldn't believe he'd quoted that horrible man verbatim.

At the "buskers" comment, Pax flinched. Although they'd never told Alabaster directly, Alabaster had guessed that Axel and Pax busked, or illegally street preformed, to get by before Camp Othrys. And Alabaster just used it as an insult.

"Ajax," Alabaster unfroze his tongue, "I'm sorr—"

Pax turned and bolted into the mass of dancers, towards the stage. A couple nearby exchanged a confused glance at his passing and looked over at Alabaster.

"Ajax!" Alabaster called. Although every cell in his nervous system wanted to reel backwards, he shoved past the couple to go after his friend.

After taking ten steps forward, Alabaster realized that finding Pax would be impossible. There were too many people, too much movement, and Pax was too small and conniving. Considering how many monsters and demigods were over six feet tall, the five-foot-nothing demigod could vanish.

This was irrational. Alabaster shouldn't worry. Pax was in a safe environment, surrounded by friends, and didn't actually need a babysitter. They would meet back up later, after both of them had time to let off some steam, and Alabaster could explain that he didn't mean what he said and that Alabaster had only said those words because he… because he…

Is so incompetent at relaxing, I couldn't rationally explain my anxiety before snapping.

Alabaster didn't want to wait to check up on Pax. He despised the thought of making someone feel the way his grandfather used to make him feel. Worse for Pax: what if his and Axel's father didn't approve of their street performance? Alabaster didn't know what nerves he'd struck, and not knowing meant he couldn't mentally prepare for what damage he'd done.

There were too many people, too close. The music had grown louder as Alabaster made his way towards the stage. The subwoofer rattled him internally. Alabaster felt clammy. With all the laughter and joy whirling around him, he felt isolated and sick. Especially with the stares of confusion at his rushed passing.

A sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him when the music quieted.

With the weirdest transition he'd ever heard, the thud of electronic wound down, like the music itself was dying. The DJ, a dark-haired Titaness wearing a modernized toga-dress, cleared her throat in the echo of the mic. The Eldest muse—Mnemosyne's voice was silky. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Monsters and Ghouls, we have our first good request of the night!"

Pax withdrew from the raised DJ booth and hopped back to the floor, only three yards away.

After the chime of bells, the calming sound of a stringed orchestra flooded the speakers, soon accompanied by a wind instrument—probably a flute.

Several demigods groaned. One or two whined. Alabaster was horrified at what Pax had done to the rest of the party's occupants and whether or not Mnemosyne had been mocking him.

Then, all the monsters cheered.

"I love the oldies!" Dr. Thorn, their local manticore, exclaimed. He ejected two spikes into the air in celebration, grabbed a Scythian dracaena, and began the elegant twirl of the waltz. Alabaster didn't want to know where those spikes would land. [footnote 2]

Alabaster would hardly call Tchaikovsky an "oldie" but he marveled that these monsters were eternal and their concept of time differed from their own.

While several half-bloods exited the dance floor, a flood of monsters entered. Jack dragged a rather inebriated-looking Luke out to spin with him. Chris and Matthias hopped by, paused, grabbed hold of each other with mock-serious expresses on their faces, and began a goofy, sloppy shamble. [footnote 3] Prometheus ruffled Pax's hair and said, "Good choice," before bowing to Mnemosyne.

Their DJ grinned, set her headphones to the side of the sound table, and hopped down from the booth.

In an empty space of floor, Lucille giggled. She kicked off her high heels, hopped up to her toes, and began to dance point, her flowy skirt mimicking the motions of a ballerina's tutu.

Near the food tables, where most of the confused demigods had gone to stand, Axel bowed to Mercedes, offering their Spymaster his hand. Mercedes tucked her embroidered hijab tighter against her chin. She gave Axel a coy smile and flicked him off with her other hand.

Axel must have just finished dancing with Lou Ellen. She stood beside Mercedes, still bright red in the face from the dance. Alabaster was already annoyed with the inevitable week of Lou Ellen's squealing. She glanced at Mercedes, glared at the older girl—from jealousy or aghast at Mercedes' refusal, Alabaster couldn't care to tell—and shoved her forward, hard.

Mercedes stumbled forward into Axel's arms, adding a second forced dance to Axel's count for the night.

With all the commotion around them, Alabaster approached Pax. He paused a foot away from him. "Why'd you pick this song?" he asked.

Pax rubbed his face against his forearm, sniffling back the last of his choked tears. "You—you play it a lot when you think other people aren't around."

Alabaster unclenched his fist. "It was my grandmother's favorite scene from Swan Lake." One of his favorite memories: when she was alive, she would hum along as she stained glass in the piano room. His grandfather hated that she used the room like that, but she claimed it had the best lighting.

"If you were going to leave, I wanted to make sure you at least liked the last song playing before you left," Pax said. He looked away, hugging himself.

All the tension eased out of Alabaster. He sighed and wasn't sure if he was more relieved that Pax had stopped crying or annoyed that Pax had beat him—Alabaster couldn't leave with such a considerate act.

"How many people know how to waltz here, you think? That aren't monsters, I mean. It might be hard to find a partner," Alabaster said.

Pax took a step closer. He puffed up his cheeks, popped them, then quietly said, "I know how to waltz." He offered a trembling hand out, palm down in the female partner position, to Alabaster.

Alabaster stared. Slowly, he glanced to where Jack and Luke were dancing and Chris and Matthias were… he refused to call that a dance, but awkwardly shambling. It wouldn't be too weird, right? Everyone knew Luke was a ladies' man, and Jack and Flynn were a "thing," and Chris and Matthias were just joking…

And Lucille, after all, was doing a ballet pas seul with a cheering circle around her like she was break dancing.

Alabaster exhaled and took Pax's hand. He slipped his other hand under Pax's arm, and positioned it on Pax's shoulder blade. Pax violently shook as he lowered his free arm atop Alabaster's. Pax was the perfect height for this, being a foot shorter than Alabaster.

That busker comment must have stung Pax worse than Alabaster thought. To have him shaking like this? He frowned, taking a slow step forward with his left foot. He expected Pax to stumble and mix up his footing. Instead, Pax flawlessly stepped back with his right foot.

They started with a basic box step. He wasn't sure how much Pax would remember from his Cotillion classes or how easily Pax would be able to reverse the footwork to follow instead of lead. When Alabaster added in a rotation to their box step, and then lifted his elbow and their hands to properly shape their posture, Pax continued perfectly. When Alabaster began to go up on his toes for the "2 and 3" count of the waltz, then down onto his heels for the "1," to give the rise and fall effect of the dance, Pax mirrored the footwork. By the time Alabaster added in the swing and sway to make the dance have a rolling effect—raising his rib cage when they went to the side, or tilting his body when they went forward or back—his curiosity had peaked.

"You know how to follow really well," Alabaster observed.

The fluid and repetitive movement of the dance calmed Alabaster. This was a familiar environment. The only unusual part was dancing with a boy. Though… he supposed he'd danced with his male instructor when he was learning.

Pax had stopped shaking. Now that they were in a rhythm, Alabaster could glance down to see if Pax still had tears in his eyes.

The younger boy was staring at Alabaster's collar—the only part of posture he wasn't doing correctly. His cheeks were flushed with the movement and, likely, his prior tantrum. A little grin touched his lips at Alabaster's comment. "Thanks. You're really good at leading."
Alabaster raised an eyebrow at him. He'd been expecting some stupid, witty retort.

Pax glanced up. His blush deepened and his eyes shot back down to Alabaster's collar. "Oh! Um—Lapis and I—my sister—we used to switch places on our Cotillion teacher. Axel, Hiro, and Kouta would play along, altering our names and pronouns to fit according to the day. The instructor never knew if which one of us was a guy or a girl, and she was too scared of getting in trouble for mixing it up to ask Dad. As long as we learned both parts, she didn't care."

That sounded exactly like something the Pax brothers would do.

Examining Pax's facial structure, Alabaster could see how the instructor could mistake Pax for a girl. He had all the features to make a convincing crossdresser: with Pax's wild, raven hair spilling all over his shoulders, his rounded face, button nose, wide eyes, squishy cheeks, and full lips. He was a little too muscular to pass for the average woman, but Alabaster had seen some ripped female demigods and wouldn't be shocked if Pax's sister—Lapis?—were similar.

With the baggy, punk-style jacket he wore, Alabaster could easily imagine Pax as some flat-chested girl half-drowned in her friend's borrowed clothing.

And with the thought, Alabaster felt his chest constrict. For some reason, he felt horrendously uncomfortable.

Alabaster spun Pax out for an underarm turn.

Nothing would change if Pax were a girl. Then, she would just be Axel's annoying little sister, instead of an annoying little brother—one that followed Alabaster around the laboratory, cheered when he succeeded in one of his experiments, made him hand-crafted presents, and was always ready with a goofy, lame joke to try to make him laugh.

Why couldn't Alabaster shake the idea that something would be different?

The song would come to an end soon. Alabaster recognized the crescendo. He hadn't realized until then that they'd danced through two songs—now it was the Waltz of the Snowflakes. Mnemosyne must have a Tchaikovsky Waltz playlist.

Although the last two songs had been relaxing, Alabaster was eager for the end. Something felt off and he didn't know why. It wasn't the same anxiety as before. No, he'd almost forgotten about the others—

Alabaster glanced around, finding Jack had stopped dancing to watch them.

Alabaster released Pax's hand and took a step back half-a-second sooner than he should have according to the music. Pax stumbled, not ready to stop following.

That goofy smile on Pax's face widened. "It's okay. I also get distracted thinking about life, the universe, and everything, and forget how to end a dance."

"Nice song choice, Ajax," someone said beside them.

Alabaster jumped, having forgotten how many people were around them.

Mnemosyne climbed back into her DJ booth. The throb of electronic and modern pop thudded back into the gym. Bored demigods cheered. Dancing monsters grumbled.

Axel stood near them, one hand still on Mercedes' shoulder blade. Although he'd lowered their hands from the dance, his other hand still held hers. He continued talking to Pax, giving Mercedes a half-smirk that would have made half the girls in the gym faint. "You helped me find the best dance partner in Camp Othrys," he said.

Mercedes did not look amused. Her expression was as deadpan as ever. A lock of curly black hair had escaped the corner of her embroidered fabric. He had to wonder if Lucille forced her into some makeup. Mercedes typically wore the simplest, plainest, and most practical clothing she could, without make up or hair accessories other than her veil.

"Pax One," she said to the older of the two, "you found a temporary victim of circumstance that is now going to ruin Matthias' life in Tekken. If you'll excuse me." She bowed her head, as though about to vanish into shadow after a spy mission. For a split second, he thought she frowned at Pax.

"Uh-hu," Axel said. As soon as she removed her hands, he took a step after her. "If I win a round of Tekken against you, I win another dance."

Pax stared at his older brother. "Axel, you're awesome and everything, but you're going to get obliterated."

Mercedes' head didn't move as her eyes shifted between the two brothers. "Listen to Pax Two. He is wise… unless you're willing to gamble information on this game."

The offer sounded like a threat.

Alabaster saw a minor opportunity unfolding.

"If you're going to do that, you should keep Tran around," Alabaster suggested, smirking at Axel. "Least someone consider lying." [footnote 4]

Mercedes let a tiny smile slip. "The child of Aletheia, Goddess of Truth. Thanks, Torrington." She nodded her appreciation. "Are you feeling lucky, Pax One?"

Axel shot Alabaster a glare.

At least he'd successfully started his revenge on the older Mayan.

Pax tugged on Alabaster's sleeve. "We can worry about Axel's downfall later. Let's get some punch and go for a walk!"

"My downfall-?"

"Come on!"

In two weeks (hopefully) are you ready for MORE FLUFF!? …. And angst. AND MORE FL—oh, oh, next week is more on the angst side. *ehem* I see.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading :D

Footnotes:

1 And thus, Grumpy Cat was born.

2 Technically, our spiky friend should be dead by now, but I didn't know that when I originally wrote this scene and I enjoy having random spikes reigning on this , this was written to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20a, TH 219: Act 1: Waltz.

3 Okay, I'll finally admit it, my representation of Chris and Matthias's whole character are based off family members. 3 you guys.

4 Call out to my home boy, VCRx.