Author's Note: This is one of the first fics I ever wrote, and it just recently went over 70 reviews and 100 likes, which is great for a stupid little one-shot I wrote in an hour. It's revised now, because when I reread it some parts made modern-me cringe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.

"No, that's ridiculous," Nico di Angelo said, shaking his head at the dark-haired three-year-old girl.

"But why?" Sophia asked, slapping her hands down on her tiny legs.

"Because your mother said not to let you. Along with instructions on what to do in case a tsunami occurs, or World War Three breaks out."

Sophia giggled momentarily. "No tsunamis in New York." She pronounced 'tsunami' like 'too-nah-me'. Nico couldn't help but smile slightly. Both at her knowledge on the subject and her pronunciation of the word.

She then put that serious look back on her small face, which was absolutely hilarious, but of course Nico didn't show his amusement. "Mommy told you no spaghetti baths?" she asked.

"Yep," Nico lied. When Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase had insured their daughter in Nico's care, Annabeth had in fact told him what to do in the occurrence of natural disasters or potential wars. She had not however touched on the topic of her daughter taking a bath in spaghetti, but he was pretty sure that she would not be particularly okay with it.

"Why?" Sophia asked, unrelenting. Nico sighed. He hadn't been thrilled with the idea of babysitting Sophia, considering he didn't like children all that much. They made him uncomfortable; he just didn't know what to do with them, how to treat them, how to respond to their stream of often nonsensical questions. But he had known Sophia since she was born, and she had received her mother's IQ and her father's perpetual sarcasm, so she was most definitely his favorite person under eighteen. And, as was a shock to everyone, the feeling was mutual. Sophia absolutely adored Nico. Perhaps it was because he didn't show as much interest in her as others, so she followed him around on default, searching for this due adoration. Or maybe it was because he spoke to her the same way he spoke to everyone else. Whatever the reason, they hit it off like gangbusters.

"Because your mommy's mean," was Nico's matter-of-fact response. They proceeded to stare each other down as they sat on the living room couch, Sophia having kidnapped Nico's jacket the second he walked in, now sitting in it. Because it was about three times bigger than her entire body she drowned in it, an effect that only made her more endearing.

"Well, then what?" Sophia demanded.

"You have to go to sleep soon. This is also because your mother's mean. So you have three options: go to sleep early, watch TV, or I could cook you some spaghetti - and, no, you cannot bathe in it. Cooked or not."

Sophia frowned, but decided she would settle for eating the spaghetti. She stood by Nico's leg while he cooked, occasionally tugging curiously at the fabric of his jeans, which caused him to glance down at her, not sure how to respond. But she seemed content, and it wasn't as if she was getting in the way, really, so finally he just decided to leave her be.

All the while he cooked, she sat there, fiddling with his shoe.

-o-

On the other side of town, Rachel Elizabeth Dare was not happy.

Her father had made her go to some stupid socialite's birthday party, telling her it was the least she could do considering he tolerated her choice of friends, and that it would look bad if she didn't show up.

Honestly, Rachel couldn't care less who's birthday it was or how it would look. She was simply miffed because she'd had to blow off another one of her and Nico's TMC movie marathon dates.

About five years prior, she and Nico had found that they actually quite enjoyed each other's company, and that they in fact had a surprising bit in common (and wherever they disagreed usually resulted in a fun amount of banter, which worked too), so they became what many would label "best friends," although neither of them would cop to such a title. Nico even eventually moved in to her gigantic apartment, an action that raised several eyebrows and caused Apollo to do a weekly "surveillance check." Of course it came out eventually that they were indeed a bit more than friends, a fact which had caused many drawn out conversations with their half-blood friends, and not to mention Apollo's interference, which basically came down to him giving strict guidelines on the relationship and an embarrassingly detailed synopsis of what was and was not allowed, in his eyes.

All in all it was worth it though, a fact Rachel was somewhat embarrassed to admit, especially considering the fact that their relationship was in no way orthodox, and labels were a nightmare where identifying it was concerned. She honestly didn't know how to even explain the relationship to herself, and she and Nico avoided any in-depth conversations at all costs. All Rachel knew what that whatever was going on between them, she liked.

They really would do the oddest things together. Things neither of them had done in years. They would play old board games while sharing a bottle of vodka. Once they had even played hide-and-go-seek. Rachel had turned off all the lights in her gigantic penthouse apartment, and commanded Nico to find her. Of course he always did, in record time no less, but Rachel considered his tactics cheating; being able to literally bend shadows to your will was clearly an unfair advantage.

This night in particular, along with their movie marathon, Nico was supposed to have also tried to teach her how to cook some more simple meals, but her father had sprung this party on her last minute. If she was going to push the limits with Nico all the time, she had to succumb to some of her father's wishes.

It was already an hour into the party, and Rachel had escaped the piercing eyes of her father and retired to a small table in the corner of the large ballroom. She sat there in her emerald green dress, hair done up professionally, pricey jewelry on, snacking on expensive appetizers. There she could see and not be seen. A married man and a very young blonde woman were sneaking out of the room together. A fifty-something ex-ballerina was scolding her young daughter. Young women sneaked to the restrooms to powder their noses or reapply lipstick or purge. Never to actually use the bathroom. Rachel thought she could probably write a bestselling and highly scandalous memoir about all of this.

She was wondering why she didn't just fake her own death and move to Europe with Nico when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her clutch, reading the name on the screen and grinning.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Whatever you're doing at that creepy rich people party is less important than what I need," replied the voice on the other end.

"Mm, someone's a tad full of himself," Rachel replied dryly. "What are you doing?"

"Making pasta for another woman," Nico said.

"You're cheating on me with food?" Rachel demanded, smiling.

"Well, yeah. She's pretty persuasive. But I guess considering who her parents are, that's to be expected."

Rachel deduced quickly. "You're watching Sophia?"

"Don't act so surprised. She loves me. She thinks I'm the coolest thing since spaghetti baths," Nico said, and Rachel could hear Sophia say something on the other end, no doubt sassy.

"But it's seven-twenty. She has to go to bed by like - what? Eight?"

"Annabeth was very specific. Seven-fifty was the exact time she gave. So I'm going to take the pasta when it's done, blend it in the, uh, blender, and put it in a bottle for her." Nico said this as though he was commenting on the weather.

Rachel gaped at the receiver. "You're going to blend the pasta and put it in a bottle for her," she repeated, incredulous.

"Yep," Nico said. "But that's not the point. She has to go to bed, and I'm bored, and Annabeth and Percy don't get back till ten, and you should come over."

"You want me to come over and watch you feed a three-year-old blended pasta?"

"Yeah. It'll be like what they do for coma victims. Y'know, they just blend it all up and put it in that tube thing, and voila. You have a fed comatose person."

"Yeah, that's not creepy."

"So, are you coming over?"

"I can't, Nico. My father will set the dogs on me!"

"Oh, come on, Dare. Am I talking to the same girl that stole Percy Jackson's Pegasus? That rode into the middle of the Titan War in a helicopter? That threw a hairbrush at Kronos?"

Rachel's cheeks grew hot. How dare he imply that she couldn't stand up to her father! But she couldn't get out of it now. And he knew that - he knew that once he said that, she had to come. She couldn't let that one go. She just couldn't.

That arrogant bastard.

-o-

"Why did you leave the door unlocked? You're babysitting." Rachel stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at Nico, who was by the stove, a little Sophia sitting by his feet.

"I'm not really afraid of anyone who could be thrown off by a locked door," Nico said.

"She's beautiful," Sophia interjected, staring at Rachel with wide eyes, even though she'd known her since she was born.

"Sophia's really superficial," Nico said, stirring the pot of noodles. "She doesn't go for that whole tortured artist thing that you're usually working. She likes fancy." Nico nodded. "But you do look beautiful," he added, turning back to the pasta.

Sophia giggled at this, and Rachel smiled, blushing slightly. "Thank you," she said, smiling at Sophia, who smiled back.

Nico then proceeded to take the pot of pasta, drain it, and pour the contents of it into the blender.

"Nico!" Rachel exclaimed, rushing over. "I thought you were kidding!"

"I don't kid about anything pertaining to Sophia and her diet," Nico responded, hitting the ON button.

Rachel's protests were drowned out by the blender's loud whirring. Nico picked Sophia up because she kept poking his leg, wanting to watch the blender do its work. The half-blood then began to line the inside of one of Sophia's sippy cups with pasta sauce, Sophia watching with keen interest all the while on his hip. Rachel wasn't sure whether she should find this creepy, amusing, or really sweet. Maybe a combination of all three.

He turned the blender off then, the food having been turned completely into a liquid substance. He dipped his finger in, trying it, then made a surprised face.

"Better then I thought it'd be," he said, pouring it into Sophia's sippy cup, shaking it, and handing it to the three-year-old.

Sophia sipped it without protest, smiling at Nico after she did.

"You cannot be serious," Rachel said, disbelieving. Though there was something about the fact that Nico had just cooked and now had a child on his hip that made him intensely attractive.

"It's good," Sophia said in her little voice.

"See," Nico said pointedly, setting the child down. "Okay, I gave you spaghetti," he said, looking at Sophia. "You have to go to bed now. Just scream, like, spaghetti baths, or something, if any monsters come in." Sophia nodded, hugged his leg quickly, then ran from the room.

Rachel and he watched the retreating child, and then Rachel turned to him. "You're not tucking her in?"

"What? She's tough. And smart. And obedient. And oddly not afraid of the dark, which I like. Probably because I can beat up shadows, so I think she assumes that everyone has that ability." He shrugged, drinking some of the leftover liquid spaghetti straight from the blender.

Rachel shook her head, but said no more on the matter. She didn't know anymore about children than Nico did. She'd been raised by nannies, who were all nice, but it wasn't the same as your actual parent reading you to sleep at night.

"So," he said, smiling that misplaced-looking smile of his. "What'd you wanna do?"

-o-

Rachel and Nico sat in the dark living room, Sophia sound asleep two rooms away. Having missed so much of the TMC movie marathon they'd originally planned on watching, they had instead put on a Spanish soap opera. They were now laughing quietly at the ridiculous program.

"So, let me get this straight," Rachel said. "Diego is pissed at Angela, 'cause she slept with Alejandro?"

"No," Nico said. He usually served as translator, insisting that Italian and Spanish were close enough that he could make out most of what the characters were saying. "Diego's, like, abusive. But yeah, that's one of the reasons he's mad. But she and Alejandro are soulmates, or something stupid like that. If you spoke any language other than English, you'd see all this. Like, literally any other language."

Rachel ignored the quip, caught on something he said, frowning. "You think the idea of soulmates is stupid?" she asked, looking over at him. Their faces were only inches apart.

Nico shrugged, keeping eye contact. "I don't know. I guess I think that if two people are meant for each other, it shouldn't be so difficult."

Each of them refused to break eye contact. Their breaths were hot on each other's faces. Rachel could feel her heart rate increasing.

"You don't think that," Rachel insisted, not breaking eye contact.

"No, I don't think I do," he agreed, moving in closer.

Rachel swallowed. "We don't really have to say it, do we?"

"No," he agreed quickly. His hand was on her cheek, their lips touched, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and they begin to deepen the kiss-

"What. The. Fuck."

They both jumped, landing on opposite ends of the couch, to find Annabeth and Percy staring at them from the doorway, shaking their heads.

"Nico blended pasta and fed it to Sophia!" Rachel blurted.

"What?!" Percy and Annabeth said in unison, Nico shooting daggers at Rachel.

"Look," Nico said, holding his hands up. "You've caught us doing weirder things."