AN:/ I swear, this most be the longest thing I've ever written; my MS word counter says that it's 6,354 words long and it's nearly 14 and a half pages long. I've been writing this for what? Five/six days now? That means I logged on average 1,050 (this is just an estimate. No fancy math here) words per day. Holy cow. On another note, this story is mostly edited except for the last 729 words or maybe a little more. I didn't feel like rereading what I wrote today and yesterday. (Can you spell L-A-Z-Y?) Oh, and any OOCness will be apologised for in advanced and maybe even fixed. Not all tortures experienced by Percy Jackson apply to every girl, just a lot that I know. :)

AN (December 15, 2011):/ Oh, my god, this, like, seriously happened today in Homeroom: Marshall, "If I were a girl [and had boobs] I'd be like, 'Whoa! These things are cool!'"

Warnings: I'm a sick, masochistic teenage girl who likes to subject Perseus Jacksons to female tortures. So, uhm, language, references to male appendages, a girl kiss or deux (that's "two" for those not learned in the language of amour), and bikini waxes. (Ouch!)

Disclaimer: - insert witty disclaimer in which I deny owning PJO, Barbie, Harry Potter, "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper, a hippopotamus, the state of New Jersey, and lots of other stuff -

girls just wanna have fun. *

The mattress creaked as Percy rolled onto his side with a snuffle. He groaned when the morning's stark sunshine reached his eyes. "Morning, sunshine," a voice said. A shadow passed over him and he felt a pair of soft lips greet his. Percy smiled sleepily, "Mornin', Annabeth," and rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes. "What're you doin' here – "He stopped when he saw a mop of brown hair. Since when did Annabeth have brown hair? He squinted. "Annabeth..?"

"Shh!" There it was again, the voice. It sounded deeper than his girlfriend's voice, now that he realised it. Was it Nico? But why would Nico kiss – "Quiet, or else you'll wake her." Percy saw a hand point to the opposite bunk and he could barely make out the mess of blonde hair peeking out from under the covers. Okay, so if his girlfriend was asleep, then who was –

"Boo!"

Percy jumped and nearly had a heart attack when Conner Stoll's face appeared out of nowhere. There was a snicker to his left and Travis walked out into the room. Percy's brows furrowed; there was no way the Stoll twins being here was a good thing. "What are you doing here?" His voice was a bit on the raw side as if he'd been screaming all night – had he had another nightmare? The boys plopped down on either side of him, shaking the bed.

"Oh, nothing," said the one on the right; Travis.

"Yeah," agreed the other; Conner. "Just the same-old, same-old."

This made Percy suspicious – since when did the Stolls ever do nothing? "Huh." His eyes slid around the cabin, searching for booby traps. "So if you're not doing anything, do you mind kinda getting out of my cabin?" The twins shared a look before they shrugged, "Sure." He watched them like a hawk as the left the cabin. After the lock clicked, cautiously, Percy lifted himself off the mattress and stepped into the bathroom.

Surprisingly enough, Percy's bathroom was actually clean, sparkling even. It was one of the very few pluses he got after living with Gabe: You learn to appreciate cleanliness. He grabbed the razor from the sink because he knew, without checking his face for stubble, that he needed a decent shave. Annabeth might've said something about it last night.

With his handy-dandy power razor (Paul had given it to him for his 17th birthday) in hand, Percy looked up into the mirror and stopped dead in his tracks. The razor clattered to the floor.

Looks like he didn't need to shave after all.

Percy kept his eyes locked on the mirror as he held his hands to his chest, and squeezed. He clamped his eyes shut and let his hand wander into the waistband of his boxers. He sucked in a shaky breath before delving in.

If you asked him about it later, he would've sworn up and down that his heart stopped that instant because that was certainly not his dick.

Oh. My. Gods.

Percy screamed, and it was probably the girliest thing he's ever heard.

.x.

Annabeth found him forty-five minutes later in a heap on the floor. Percy had left the bathroom door open wide, but she still peeked around the doorframe for him. "Percy?" she whispered. He could feel her eyes on the back of his head. Slowly, he turned to face her and pretended not to hear her gasp. "Percy!" she exclaimed. He nodded, practically brain-dead. Annabeth knelt down beside him and wrapped him in her arms. "What happened?"

"St – " he winced. "Stoll brothers." Dammit, why must it sound so girly? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flush with anger and heard her teeth grind.

"I should've known." Annabeth broke away from Percy. "I'm going to go find them – do you want to come with me?"

Percy shook his head. "No. I'd rather not let anybody see me like" – he gestured to himself –
"this."

She nodded. "Understandable." She examined him, eyes stopping squarely at his chest. "I'm sorry to do this, Percy, but," she paused as she started to pluck self-consciously at her bra strap. "I'm going to have to sacri- take you to the Aphrodite cabin. There are some things I can't – handle on my own." Annabeth flushed.

"But!" Percy protested, desperate.

"Percy, please?" Though it was more of an order than a request, her grey eyes were pleading; they flickered back to his chest, then hers, and back up to his face. "Please."

Percy sighed and ran a hand through his hair – same as ever, he noted – and grudgingly agreed. He'd do anything for Annabeth. She sighed in relief and stood up and offered him a hand. He took it and was standing just long enough to catch the sweatshirt she threw at him. "Zip it and throw the hood up. My cap is back at my cabin."

Before they went outside, Annabeth stopped and grabbed his hand. She pulled him close and pecked him on the lips. And even though he smiled to himself, Annabeth gave Percy a small smile and he grinned even more. If anyone would find a way out of this, Annabeth would.

.x.

Luckily for them, it was too early for most of the camp to be awake and they smuggled Percy across with ease. He had doubts about the Aphrodite cabin being up this early, the "beauty sleep" and all, but Annabeth assured him that the girls would be up. He was still surprised when Drew, the new cabin leader since Silena died, answered the door. She cast a glance at Percy before quirking a brow at Annabeth, who hastily said, "Stolls," and waved for them to come in.

The Aphrodite cabin was a lot different than what Percy expected. He thought it'd be pinkpinkpink, especially on the girls' side of the cabin, but no, any pink there was was done in muted, pastel tones. There were a billion and one roses, some real and in vases and some carved into the furniture, and it was done tastefully. The rooms themselves were elegant and simple. He hadn't seen the bathroom yet.

Okay, so "bathroom" wouldn't be entirely accurate thing to call it seeing as there was a salon, day spa, and dressing room besides just a toilet and a sink, which were hidden somewhere Percy couldn't see. And it was filled with girls. Drew smirked at his expression. "I don't really see how you're impressed by this. Next time you visit Olympus, you should drop by my mother's palace. Her bathroom makes this place look like a gas station restroom." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "You might want to close your mouth, Princess. It makes you look like a jackass."

Drew turned to Annabeth. "Well, this definitely is interesting. I promise he won't look like shit when you come back."

"Wait – you're leaving me?" Percy said.

Drew rolled her eyes. "You've fought hordes of demigods and Titans. I think you'll find girls to be just as scary. If not more."

Annabeth struggled to hide her smile. "Yeah, Seaweed Brain. I think a little girl time will do you some good. You're in good hands. Plus, they owe me one."

Drew made a noise in the back of her throat. "Ugh. Are you ever going to drop that?"

"Drop what?" Percy butted in.

"Nothing," they chimed. "Have fun," Annabeth said. She pecked him on the cheek.

The double doors clicked with her departure, leaving her boyfriend in a room full of gorgeous girls, and if he were any other guy, this would have been Elysium on Earth. But then again, if he were any other guy, he wouldn't be going through this.

.x.

"Hi, my name is Dana," said the first girl. She could've been an angel with her pale skin, pale eyes, and pale hair.

"Like he cares," said Drew. "It's not like he's here to get a blowjob."

"Shut up, Drew," snapped Dana.

"If anyone here should be shutting up, it's you, the girl who'll open her mouth for everything and everyone. Whore."

Dana scowled darkly before slinking off somewhere else. Drew turned her attention to Percy. "I know I'm a bitch, but she's a whore. Big difference. If she had the chance, Dana'd talk you into letting her lick you up every which way possible. Can't keep her damn tongue to her damn self." She pushed him into a plush chair and spun it so he looked into the vanity mirror.

"I'm going to give you a different hair style. People will mistake you for a lesbian if you keep your hair that short." She paused thoughtfully and amended, "Not that being a lesbian is a bad thing. Most of Aphrodite's children are bi anyway. Love is love, no matter who is feeling it for whom."

The drawer to Percy's right opened and Drew took a silver brush embedded with garnets from it. "It's a gift from Mom," she explained as she turned it over in her hands. "It lets you choose the length you want your hair to be. It's super useful for bad hair days.

"Currently, I'm thinking about shoulder-length hair with sharp layers for you. I saw it at Fashion Week and thought it was to die for."

"Then why don't you have your hair cut that way?" Percy asked.

Drew barked a laugh. "Puh-lease. As if I'd ever be able to pull that off. You, on the other hand, could. So, what do you think?"

"I think that shoulder length is too long. It should stay the way it is now."

"Gods, I wasn't really asking your opinion." They way she said it grated on Percy's nerves. It was like he was a moron or something. "Now don't be a pussy and let me make it shoulder length."

Percy stood up, incredulous. "No. I don't care if Annabeth thinks I'm in 'good hands', not if I'm being bossed around by some skinny Barbie bitch who thinks she can tell me what to do."

Drew had her hands on her hips, completely unfazed by Percy's outrage. "Sit down and shut up, Boy Hero. I'm doing you a favour by not letting you run rampant 'round my cabin like a chicken with it's head cut off, because without me, you'd have no fucking clue of what to do. Remember what I said about looking like a lesbo? It's not like it's far from the truth, hun, but if you want it short, it's still going to have to change."

Percy was still angry, but eyes held a glint of hope that Drew thought to be pathetic. "So you'll let me keep my hair short?"

She shoved him back into his seat and spun the chair so that the mirror was to his back. "Ha, no. I could braid it instead," she offered. "It would be longer but it'd be out of the way. I've been dying to do a fishtail for ages." Before he could answer, she ran the brush through his hair. His scalp tickled as hair grew rapidly from his roots. The bristles felt good in his longer hair, a fact he would never admit, not even to himself, for the sake of his "manliness" that came with every 17-year-old guy. He was actually sort of disappointed when the brush was replaced with a pair of shears.

Drew started to cut and all Percy could hear was the snipsnipsnip of the shears. It was almost devastating seeing all the hair that had fallen to the ground. Percy felt like he should be bald, and it was a very scary feeling; he never liked bald people, they made him think of Gabe. And the worst part was, he didn't even get to see what was happening to his hair. The small voice, the one that had been growing ever since he woke up that morning, was freaking out. Not that he should be scared, of course. Look at Medusa; she'll be suffering an extreme case of bad hair for the rest of eternity.

Percy rolled his neck as he assessed the new weight on his head. It was heavy and felt strange until she pulled it back and began braiding. He liked the sensation of her fingers in his hair – not that he'd ever tell Annabeth. She'd kill him if he did.

Drew grabbed him by the wrist when she was finished braiding his hair and tugged him away – "What? I don't even get to see it?" "Nope." – and brought him to a more secluded corner of the huge bathroom. "Go put this on."

.x.

"Come on out, Princess," called Drew. Percy shuffled behind the curtain and picked at the nylon and polyester tie holding the ensemble together. He really didn't want to face Drew. "Come on, don't be shy. We're all girls out here." Cowardice was not a Percy Jackson trait, but sometimes that guinea pig from Circe's Isle liked to make itself known.

Thirty more seconds passed before Drew barged into the dressing room, exasperated. "I honestly don't get what you're so embarrassed about." She appraised Percy in his turquoise bikini and made an appreciative noise. "You know, if Annabeth didn't still dig you, I'd totally tap that." Percy blushed bright red.

"Why do I even need to where this?" he asked.

"You could've been naked."

He winced. "Oh."

"Yeah," she snorted as she led him back into the other room. She patted one of what looked to be a massage bed. "Hop up."

Without an argument and a whole lot of scepticism, Percy jumped onto the bed and awkwardly pulled at his bikini bottom when it gave him a wedgie. Gods, how did girls wear these things? He didn't even like briefs! Though he figured that after everything today, he deserved a massage.

"On you stomach," she ordered. Percy obliged and pressed his face into the face-hole. Drew spread something hot over the back of his legs and he asked, "What's that?"

She continued spreading the hot liquid over the entire length of his long legs and said, "You've grown some hair, now it's time for you to lose some." Wait – what? That didn't make any sense –

"Oh, sweet, baby Hermes!" cried Percy when the sound of something tearing hit his ears. There was a flaring pain throughout the entirety of his legs. He looked up. "What. The hell. Was that?"

"I just waxed your legs – the backs of them, at least. We still have the fronts and the armpits to go. Now, roll over," Drew ordered.

"What – no! Why the hell would I do that?" Percy protested.

Drew put some effort into her words. "Because you'll be a good Boy Hero and you'll let poor, wittle Drew make you all pwetty. So roll over."

A sheen of magic washed over Percy and he allowed himself to be flipped over. Drew snapped her fingers and restraints appeared, locking Percy's hands above his head and his ankles locked down. He snapped out of his magic-induced haze. "What the fuck was that?" he demanded, struggling against the bindings.

"Charmspeak, dearie," supplied Drew. "You should really learn to be immune to that." She slathered more of the amber-coloured wax on his legs and let it cool. "One" – she grunted as she began peeling the wax – "little word" – she removed everything on the left leg – "and you might go off the deep end." The pain was sharp when she tore off the remaining wax.

"Ow," he moaned.

"Get used to it; we're not done yet."

Four rips! and plenty of pain later, Percy let out a relieved breath. They were done. Drew caught this and smirked. "Nuh-uh-uh, there's one more thing to do."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I kid you not, hun. This is the best part." Drew coated his bikini area in wax. "Prepare yourself."

Percy sucked in a breath and clamped his eyes shut, bracing for the worst. "Prepared," he hissed.

.x.

Even though he was battle-hardened warrior who spent hours upon hours of training every day, Percy had never been this sore. His (now-hairless) legs were a pulsating, bright red, as were his armpits and his eyebrows, and it hurt like hell. Drew laughed at him when he tried to stand and gave him a short, velour robe to cover up in, much to his chagrin. "I'll tell you what," she said, "when you get your nails done" – Percy cringed – "they'll only be buffed and clipped. What do think about that?"

"Are you actually asking me this time?" Percy replied dryly.

"Yes," sighed Drew, "I'm actually asking you this time."

Percy, still a bit sceptical, nodded. "Okay, yeah, that sounds good."

She clapped her hands and brought him back into the dressing room before disappearing somewhere into the back. "What are we doing back in here?" Percy asked.

"We're going to get you measured." Drew came back from behind a curtain with a measuring tape curled in her hand.

"Get measured for what?" he ventured hesitantly.

She rolled her eyes and unravelled the measuring tape. "A bra, of course. Did you think that I'd let those puppies bounce around, free?" Percy shifted, embarrassed. The unfamiliar weight on his chest jiggled slightly. Drew noticed and inclined her head, as if to say you see what I mean?

"So, uh, how does this work?"

"First, you have to take the robe off."

"Do you want me to strip completely?" He hoped not.

"No, just the robe."

Percy untied the belt and shed the robe like a skin. "Why couldn't have I kept it on?"

"The robe is thick and therefore adds extra bulk," she explained. "Hold your arms out like an airplane and exhale." He released all of the air in his lungs and Drew wrapped the measuring tape around his ribcage. She jotted down a number in a pocket notebook. "Good, keep your arms up and I'll measure for cup size." The measuring tape was brought across the fullest part of his chest and met at his back. He could hear Drew whistle, long and high. "Yeah, no wonder Annabeth didn't want to stick around for this; I'm incredibly jealous, Miss..." Drew paused and did the calculations, "D-cup. Congratulations, you have bigger boobs than me – and that's without the padding."

Mortified, Percy was, at the sheers size of his... boobs. He shivered, there was now no denying the fact that he was a girl now, what with the bikini waxes and the unintentional hip-swinging and these things on his chest as evidence. Until now, he'd been deluding himself into thinking that he simply ate a ton at dinner and grew some serious man-boobs overnight.

When Drew came back from wherever she'd disappeared to (presumably behind the same curtain as before), in her hands was some sort of leopard print-and-lace contraption. Percy then realised that it was his bra; his bra that looked like a torture device. Sure, he and Annabeth had been together (officially) for a while now, but he hadn't yet gotten to the point where he was allowed to take her shirt off. Allowed because Annabeth was dead-set on no-sex until marriage, or at least engagement, and though Percy loved Annabeth very dearly, she could be downright scary when given the reason to be.

He examined the bra with a critical eye. "Do I look like a stripper to you?"

She shrugged and said, "It could always be a push-up. Plus, with a body like that, you do look like a stripper. You're pretty tight, Princess." Drew smacked his butt for emphasis and thrust the bra into his arms. "Call me when you need help." She touched his arm on the way out and called over her shoulder, eyes glittering mischievously, "Help will always be given in the Aphrodite cabin to those who ask for it."

Percy eyed the bra uncertainly. "I don't think I'll need it." Then to himself he added in a hushed tone, "Well, I hope I don't."

At first, it was simple: Unclasp the back and stick your arms through the straps. Yet after that, Percy struggled with clasping it together. He hadn't had years to hone his bra-clasping skills unlike every other female suffering through and the veterans of puberty, and when his clumsy fingers failed him several times, he decided to take a different route and clasp it in front of him rather than behind, and then slip his arms under the straps.

He called for Drew when he was done. She examined him with her lips pressed into a thin line. "Jump," she ordered. Percy raised a shapely eyebrow but didn't argue and hopped once. "Keep it up." He kept on bouncing, feeling like a rabbit, until she nodded, satisfied.

"It looks like I got you the right size – "

"Though why you had to get this one, I have no idea," muttered Percy disdainfully.

" – And now that you actually have something to cage those baby-feeders, we can clothe you."

"What is all this 'we' business? You're the only one doing this," he pointed out.

"'We' means the collective body that is the Aphrodite cabin. It's not like I supplied all of this."

"But it's still only you."

"Gods, whatever. Just follow me."

.x.

Deeper and deeper into the "Closet of Wonder" as Drew had nicknamed it ("Terror" sounded like a better adjective than "Wonder", Percy thought), they stopped at a giant revolving clothes rack packed with every designer brand, jean, and shoe ever imagined.

"Does all of this come out of the camp budget?" Percy wondered.

"No, Mom likes to give us all of her clothes when she's done with them. All of the ones that are in season, of course." Drew walked over to the rack and filed through the mesh of fabric. She pulled out a silver dress adorned with glitter and whatever ballerina tutus are made of. Percy's girl-mind told him tulle.

Percy crossed his arms over his chest. "There is no way in Hades I'm wearing a dress."

Drew pulled out another one, this time a skimpy tube dress. "Not even this one?" she asked innocently.

"Are you being serious?"

"It's not like I expected you to wear a dress anyway. I've tortured you enough for the time being." She walked over to a touch-screen panel in the wall and made it beep.

"Wow, I appreciate it," Percy said sarcastically.

"Don't be unthankful. If you're stuck like this forever, you'll be happy that we taught you how to be a girl." The closet started revolving when Drew punched something in.

He stared at her, trying to see if she was being serious, but all he could see was the back of her head. "So you're saying I could be stuck like this?" His voice rose several octaves, a feat he hadn't thought to be possible.

Drew turned around and put a finger on her mouth, her eyes were huge in mock-naiveté. "Oops, did I?"

"Yes," Percy growled, "you did. It's not a concept I'd like to consider, you know."

"Look on the bright side, Princess – "

"There is no bright side, Drew."

"Now, now, no need to be so pessimistic here," she started, a wicked grin on her face. She knew this was going to be a low blow. "Like I was saying, look on the bright side: You'll be starting your premenstrual cycle soon!" And she said it with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that Percy wanted to throttle the woman. Oh, and he knew she knew how hard that was going to hit home. The replacement of one's penis is no laughing matter, especially when it's being replaced by a woman's plumbing. Percy was mourning the loss.

"Gods, do you ever stop being a bitch?" he snarled, fingers curled into fists at his sides.

Drew looked up idly from examining her fingernails. "Nope. Try again next time."

He began to pace. Back and forth and back and forth, enough that Drew was worried he might dig a trench in the ground. It was a calming method for Percy, having inherited his father's legendary temper and was a trick taught to him by Annabeth.

Annabeth... the thought of her immediately sobered him up. Percy still had hope in her, that she'd find a way to get him out of this mess. She was the smartest person he knew. He recalled her words from earlier, "a little girl time will do you some good" and reluctantly stopped and faced Drew. Percy pinched the bridge before he spoke. "Okay, I'm sorry I kinda flipped a bitch" – "PMS," sing-songed Drew; he ignored that – "but this whole thing has been sorta stressful on me. It's not everyday you get your chromosomes switched. Also, could you tone the bitch act down a bit? Really."

Drew appeared to contemplate his words, a true look of thoughtfulness upon her admittedly pretty face. "Yeah, sure, no problemo, Princess. I'll keep the bitch to a minimum, but only just. I have a reputation to uphold."

Percy gave her a small smile, which was just barely returned. The closet stopped spinning and Drew punched in something else. A robotic arm came out of a panel in the wall and grabbed an orange T-shirt from one of the higher racks. "Some good came from Mom marrying Hephaestus," Drew said as she grabbed the shirt from the arm and held it out for Percy to see.

It dawned upon him. It only made sense that the Aphrodite kids didn't wear the gaudy orange thing. "A Camp Half-Blood shirt. I didn't think you had any of these."

"Yep, standard issue, pumpkin-orange trash. I believe this is the only one we have." The corners of her mouth turned down as she looked at it. "Here, take it."

He took it from her hands and slipped it over his head. He was happy when he saw it wasn't a small and tight as it look; it fit a bit loosely if anything. "Thanks," Percy said.

"I do hope it's genuine this time," Drew said, her arms crossed. "We need to get you some shorts, but first, you need a pair of panties. Bikini bottoms are not meant to worn all day."

She walked over to a set of drawers and opened a few of them. Drew cast a glance at Percy, or, more specifically, his ass, and opened a new drawer. She fingered through some things when she came up with what looked like a very small, very fitted short. "It goes with your bra," she said. "They're a matching set. This is the boyfriend short. I don't think you're ready for a thong." It too was black lace and leopard print. She gave it to Percy who simply held it and stared; his eyes flickered to her, and then back to the lingerie. "Well" – Drew tapped her foot – "aren't you going to try it on?"

"Not with you here."

"Okay, how about I close my eyes and face the other way?"

"How about you leave the room instead?"

Drew stuck her tongue out at him, "Fine. Be that way," and strutted out. Percy waited until the click! of her heels faded.

He shimmied out of the little bikini bottom and pulled on the panties. They fit just like the looked: Small and tight. There was a full-length mirror in the corner, an object he'd very like to avoid, but he couldn't stay away from reflective surfaces for forever. Percy puffed up his chest and moved toward it.

The person in the mirror was a stranger to him. They were similar in many ways, like a sibling or a twin, yet different at the same time. They had the same eyes and more or less the same nose, only slightly feminised. Their lips were alike, hers a bit less angular and a sight more pouty. Of course, the girl had longer hair that was pulled back into what looked like an inverted ribcage. It fell across her shoulder and ended at the peak of her breasts.

It only made sense that their bodies were different. They were both athletic, they both had the same skin tone and were both the same height (6 feet 5 inches according to his last check-up). What was the obvious difference was that he is a guy and she is a girl, but he is that girl, Percy had to remind himself. Even if he didn't like it, they were one and the same. He studied his female figure – his because he had to learn to come to terms with it – and was quite pleased with it. Percy wasn't a narcissist; he never particularly cared about what he looked like, and if he did, it was rare. But Percy was pretty damn happy with his female doppelganger. Maybe he thought his boobs were a tad too big and that his nose wasn't as small, those were really the qualms he had at the moment. He turned in the mirror – he'd seen girls do this at the mall – and to his irritation saw that his ass still hung halfway out the panties, despite the greater coverage it gave him. He missed his boxers.

"You ready?" Drew called regardless of the fact that she'd already entered the room. "Are you checking yourself out?"

"No!" Percy said, already scooting away from the mirror. "I need shorts," he said quickly after and hoped to deter a possibly-humiliating conversation.

Drew got the hint and put mercy on him. "Yeah," she said, "I know. That's why I brought you these." She held up the pair of distressed jean shorts in the air. "They're last seasons, so that's why they weren't in here."

Percy took the shorts from her and put them on. He frowned; they didn't even come down to mid-thigh. "They're too short."

"Too bad, they're the longest we have."

He shot her a dubious look. "Are you sure about that?"

"Very sure, so stop complaining, Princess. I might not give you any shoes," Drew threatened.

"You can't threaten me with shoes. I'll just go barefoot."

"And butt-naked. And get a shitload of chores to do when Dionysus freaks on your ass. It's your call though." She grinned and her eyes glittered.

Inwardly, Percy groaned. He hated the chores at camp. He always got stuck with all the non-water related stuff, to his annoyance and Mr. D's glee. "Why would I be naked?"

"Because the rightful owners of the clothes you are wearing is the Aphrodite cabin, and we don't take well to those who steal our things."

"But you gave them to me!"

"Correction: We gave them to you to borrow. You can't keep them."

He huffed and rubbed his face with his palm, exasperated by Drew and her stupid cabin. Ugh, Aphrodite will probably screw him over that one. "Fine, I'll stop complaining. Just give me some damn shoes."

Percy felt something smash into his nose and stepped back. The black sneakers fell to the floor with a dull thud!. He scooped them up by the laces and turned them over in his hands. "You expect me to train in these?" he asked, noticing the small "Coach" label on the back.

Drew shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"They're, like, designer though!" He made a frantic, fancy hand motion around the shoes.

"Yes, they're Coach," Drew said slowly. "That means that we have at least fifty other pairs that aren't going to be used all at the same time. There aren't even fifty people in the cabin, hun. I think we can live without one pair of shoes. Now, be a good boy – er, girl – whatever and put them on."

He glared at her for the "girl" comment and put the shoes on his feet. He laced them up and tied a bow and stood. "Happy now?" Drew ran her eyes up and down him (something she did a lot, Percy noticed) and made a satisfied grunt.

"I do believe my work here is done."

Percy made a punching motion in his little fit of happiness and relief. The nightmare was over! "Don't count your wishes, Hero Boy," Drew said, a smirk on her lips. "We still don't know when whatever this is" – she gestured to the entirety of him – "will end." That deflated Percy's spirits and his shoulders slumped a smidge, but he was overjoyed that wouldn't be treated like a reluctant Barbie doll. All of this hair and waxing and clothes was for the birds, he thought.

Drew led him out of the "Closet of Wonder (Terror)" where there were just as many girls there before. Some of them saw Percy and gasped, "Oh, my gods! You look so pretty!" or "Drew, you did such a amazing job!" Drew ate it all up with a grin. "It's all in a day's work, ladies," she'd say. Percy rolled his eyes.

.x.

They stood in sitting room outside of the "bathroom"; it'd been the place where Annabeth had unloaded him. The pre-evening sun filtered through the windows, casting the room a faint orange. "What time is it?" Percy asked, eyebrows drawn as he stared out into the camp.

Drew checked the wall clock. "Almost four. You got here at about five in the morning."

"So that means..." Percy did the math. "I've been here for eleven hours! How is that even possible?"

Her grin grew bigger. "Times flies when you're having fun," she said.

"Easy for you to say," retorted Percy. "Do you think Annabeth's – "

The door flew open and in fell Conner and Travis Stoll, thrown onto a heap on the hardwood floor. A blonde demigod towered above them, a bronze dagger gleaming in her hand.

"Annabeth," Drew drawled lazily from the loveseat, "we were just talking about you."

Annabeth's eyes flicked up from the two demigods at her feet to Drew, who threw a glance at Percy, who Annabeth's gaze trailed to. She was looking at him hard, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Hi, Annabeth," he said almost-shy. He didn't like the way she was staring at him.

"Drew." She bobbed her head in acknowledgement. "Percy." Her storm cloud eyes softened and he relaxed. Travis coughed from under Annabeth's foot. "No 'hello' for us?" She increased the pressure on his back. "Oomph – sorry I asked," he muttered.

"Explain," Annabeth demanded in a gruff voice.

"You have to let us up first!" said Conner.

"Not until you explain." She waved her knife in the air.

"Ugh, fine," muttered Conner, squirming under the weight of his brother.

Travis moved his head for a better view of everyone. "Lookin' good, Perce." He smiled devilishly, looking directly at Percy's chest. Percy crossed his arms protectively over himself; now he knew how girls felt.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," quipped Percy with a glare.

"Travis, shut up and start talking." Annabeth flexed and twirled the dagger in her hand.

"HHHHhkhjdhfkshfkdshfksjhfkshH= dfsWouldn't talking contradict your orders?" asked Conner.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like a foot up your ass?"

"No – "

"Then explain," she hissed.

"Touchy-touchy," muttered Travis. He adjusted his head and began to explain how he and Conner had found about some sort of serum created by the Apollo and Circe cabins. They stole a couple of vials ("Though," Conner grumbled, "someone here" – he jabbed a thumb at Travis – "dropped the other one.") for "scientific research" – Percy had no clue as to why someone would actually fall for that – and slipped one into Percy's goblet at dinner – "It takes several hours to activate," Travis had said.

The rest of the story didn't need to be told seeing as Percy had lived it, but then Annabeth spoke up again. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What? – Oh, yeah, the cure. Back pocket," Travis said hurriedly.

Annabeth bent over and fished a small glass from the back pocket of Travis's khaki shorts. He opened the mouth to say something and Annabeth shut him up with a don't you even think about it look. She tossed the bottle to Percy.

"Can we get a picture of this?" Conner asked idly. "Just for a keepsake?"

"No!" Percy and Annabeth said simultaneously. They shared a smile. Drew, tired of waiting in the wings, swooped in. "Why don't you just drink the damn bottle already? I know I made you all pretty and stuff, but drama is so overrated."

Conner coughed. "Hypocrite."

"Drew's right," Annabeth said. "Let's get this over with. Percy, I'll say this now: You look beautiful, and if this antidote doesn't work, I'd still be happy to be your girlfriend." She kissed him full on the mouth to make her point.

Percy grinned, wide as the Cheshire Cat's. "Thanks." He lifted the bottle to his lips – "Bottoms up." – and drank. He stood there, still as a mannequin, and waited for some burst or tingle of magic the crawl up his body.

"Results are not instantaneous," Travis said nervously. He cast a fleeting look at Annabeth. "Can we, uh, go now?"

She pondered this with a fist tucked her chin. "Sure – but don't ever do a stunt like this again," she warned.

The Stolls were up and out of the cabin as soon as Annabeth released them. Drew stretched out on the loveseat and Annabeth looked to Percy. "We should leave. There's a ton of campers outside, but most of them are playing Capture the Flag. Do you want to go?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather be in my own clothes when I change back," Percy said and grabbed Annabeth's hand. "Let's go."

"Bye, Princess!" Drew yelled from the sitting room as they left, hand in hand.

"Does she always call you that?" Annabeth wondered.

"Not until today."

.x.

They were cooped up in Percy's bunk together when he felt a tingling sensation danced across his skin. In moments, he was returned to his normal, boy body. Percy let out a sigh of relief and watched as it tickled the back of Annabeth's curls. She sighed and rolled over, her sleep-heavy eyes taking him in. "Welcome back," she whispered after kissing him softly on the lips. He wrapped her in his arms and they both drifted to sleep.

AN:/ If you're sexy and you know it, review. :3

Or just review