Edit 1/3/2014: It was brought to my attention that Thalia is only 14 when she's on the run with Luke and Annabeth. So oops, sorry about that. For some reason, I thought she was older.

Rain again. The clouds seem determined to wash the three demigods off the face of the earth.

"Thanks, dad," Thalia yells upwards.

Thunder rumbles in return.

"C'mon," Luke puts a hand on Thalia's arm and pulls her along. "We've got to find somewhere to stay. Annabeth…?"

"This one," the seven-year-old shouts. She's standing on the front porch of a darkened house.

"Careful!" Thalia says, quickly ducking beneath the overhang. "Someone could hear you!"

"They're not home." Annabeth folds her arms defiantly. "Look at the newspaper on the steps. It's from last Tuesday. And the grass hasn't been cut in a week. Obviously."

"Oh, obviously." Thalia says. "Don't know how we could've missed that."

Luke ruffles her blond hair. "Good job, kiddo."

Thalia shimmies open the door and turns to Annabeth, who's still beaming from her success. "Why don't you run along and take a shower? We probably won't see another bathroom for months."

"Okay," Annabeth nods and scurries off.

"Go ahead and take a long bubble bath, soak it in," Luke calls after her. He turns around and kisses Thalia on the nose. "We probably won't see another bedroom for months, either."

"Oh my gods." Thalia stifles her laugh in his shoulder. "Shhhh, she'll hear you."

He tilts up her chin, studies her bright blue eyes. She's not sure who moves first but suddenly their lips have crashed together.

Her hands twist into the fabric of his ratty T-shirt, feeling his lean body tense beneath her touch. He stumbles back towards the couch, where they collapse, her straddling him. She tightens her legs around his waist, and he responds by pulling her into him.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she should check the perimeter, be on guard for monsters, but it's been so long and her brain completely shuts down.

"Have you seen the towels?" Annabeth rounds the corner into the room, then immediately backs out, horrified. "Oh. My. Gods."

"Sorry!" Luke manages to reply between laughs.

Thalia grins and rests her forehead against his. "Another time," she promises.

Of course, there's not another time. The Fates are too sadistic for that. But weeks later, in a different house, as she curls up to sleep between Annabeth and Luke, she doesn't mind so much.

All that's here, all that matters, is already in her arms.

Credit goes to Christina Perri's "Arms."