A/N: Please Read and Review. All criticism welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used or The Olympians Series written by Rick Riordan and published by Hyperion. Please support the official series. Special thanks to my amazing beta, Omega135.

1.) Percy is coy…

…and she smiles every time the thought crosses her mind. He has faced monsters, Titans, and gods. He has held the world on his shoulders. Percy has walked into the Underworld and cursed Hades in his own domain. Yet, the way his face flushed as she pressed herself against him, eyes locked onto his, was absolutely adorable.

It was made official on May 23rd.

"Oh my gods, Seaweed Brain!"

It was basically a daily ritual. The Athenian campers simply rolled on to their sides. Several drowsy chuckles resonated through the cabin while a few of the lighter sleepers groaned.

The cabin's interior was bathed in a soft blue light and several of the clocks indicated the time as 5:34. Anyone who cared enough to look would find Percy in his customary position, situated next to Annabeth's bed, watching her expectantly. Annabeth glared at him as she attempted to fix her disheveled appearance.

"Hand to hand?"

"I am positive Jasper, Beckendorf, Casey, Lauren, or Michaela are ALL awake right now! Why not one of them?" Her furious whisper amused several of the campers who regarded the tradition as almost a show.

"I want you." For a moment, she was glad that the early morning sun provided such minimal light so her reddening cheeks were not as noticeable as she assumed them to be.

Of course, he was still staring expectantly at her, completely oblivious to the impact his words had.

She swore, promised, vowed, and pledged that she would put her foot down on these early morning training sessions.

Inevitably, she stood facing him less than ten minutes later, clad in a sports bra and sweatpants, waiting to begin the spar. Percy kicked off his shoes and threw them in the corner with his discarded shirt. Just as Annabeth shifted her weight, she saw his fist speeding towards her face. Her arm diverted his attack and used the opening to throw a punch of her own. Percy pivoted quickly, locking her arm in his, throwing her to the ground. His greater physical strength was impressive but her natural agility ruled in these circumstances.

Annabeth twisted in midair landing nimbly on the balls of her feet. Before he could turn, Percy felt a short barrage of blows to his back. The sudden assault weakened his stance and he found himself unbalanced. She had him on the ground in an instant locking his body in submission. Percy relaxed his muscles and reversed the hold, forcing her into a painful grapple. They wrestled until Percy ended up on top of Annabeth, holding her arms above her head. Sea green eyes met grey. The determined set of their faces shifted to uncertainty when they realized the compromising position they were in. Annabeth fought every fiber of her being that wished to blush and smirked instead.

"Comfortable, Percy?" she inquired flirtatiously.

Percy stammered uncomfortably before moving off of her at a truly impressive speed. She loved these rare moments when his shyness presented itself. The occasional light touch, teasing smile, and playful comment were enough to draw them out. It was interesting, almost conflicting, how oblivious and unintentional he could be to his own amorous actions yet be embarrassed by hers.

As usual they spent most of the day together, working on strategies, perfecting tactics, teaching younger campers, and coaching the older fighters. They chatted pleasantly but today seemed charged with an underlying tension. They touched hands more frequently; conversation drifted to relationships, and they even found themselves staring into each other's eyes.

It was one of Those Nights.

The afternoon sun dipped low and sent arcs of sunlight streaming through the forest. Annabeth and Percy leaned against the thick trunk of an evergreen. As per usual, the couple had ventured deeper than was safe for most of the campers. The sounds of nature, and irregular roars of monsters serenaded their nights together. At present, they had fell into a companionable silence.

"Getting late."

"Yeah."

"You should probably get back to the Athena Cabin."

"Probably."

Annabeth stood for a moment, stretching leisurely. Percy followed suit then leaned against the bough of the tree. She surveyed his form and acted impulsively. Stepping forward, she embraced him, her body pressed against his.

"Percy?"

"Y-yes?"

"That girl you mentioned to Charles, the one you were head over heels for…"

Her expression was one of innocent curiosity but her heart beat furiously. Secretly, she admitted to herself that she greatly enjoyed the way he tripped over his words and the furious blush on his cheeks.

"Um, it's…"

"She's lucky. I'm jealous of her. If you like her, it's too bad. I thought I had a chance."

Percy was silenced by Annabeth's lips against his own. Truthfully, as far as kisses go, it was rather chaste. As far as Annabeth and Percy were concerned, the act was one of intensity and passion, one that lasted forever.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

They walked to the cabins together with their arms intertwined. An hour later, they lay in their respective beds, smiling. Two hours later, Annabeth lay in Percy's bed. No more kisses were exchanged, no further physical exploration, and the relationship did not progress any further that night. She lay against his bare chest and slept peacefully, his heartbeat the sweetest lullaby she could imagine. It was made official on May 23rd.

2.) Percy grows more attractive everyday…

…and she hates it. Annabeth remembers a young kid, still growing into his full bloom. She remembers twinkling sea green eyes and a crooked smile that always set her heart aflutter. At night, she dreams about a young teenager with slight traces of baby fat and broadening shoulders just hinting at the man he would grow into. Intensive training, exercise, and guidance have turned the child into a man. Angular features now gaze at her where dimples used to lie. Toned muscle glistens under sweat and scars line what was once an unmarked canvas. When she sees him training, his shirt discarded due to the perpetual spring weather, her face always burns with lust. Not the simple desire to lie against him, breathe in his scent, and hold him. He doesn't notice her, she realizes, and this realization is more jarring than it should be.

3.) Percy is powerful…

…and it scares her. It seems odd at first, the apparent ease with which he takes to the sword. The natural ability he seems to possess when fighting for his life. Before he has ever trained, he defeats the Minotaur. He faces gods and Titans on equal ground. Odd slowly turns into strange. Strange how he manages to beat three Ares campers in unarmed sparring. Strange how Hephaestus, Ares, and Apollo campers begin asking him for tips. Strange how the whole camp soon follows suit. In his first year, he is one of the best swordsmen in camp. By the second, he is the best. By the third, he is unmatched. Strange turns to frightening. Frightening how much agility and strength can exist in one form. Frightening how fast Riptide can disarm, parry, and strike. Frightening how much he loves it. Annabeth knows, though she never admits it to herself. Percy would rather hold Riptide than her.

4.) Percy loves battle…

…more than he should. More than any demigod should. It's inherent in many. The need to fight, the love of the adrenaline rush as blood and sweat coalesce into a bittersweet concoction on the field of war. They all experience it at some point. All rush towards the field of glory at some time, carving their swathe of destruction through the throng of enemies. Percy transcends the normal boundaries. He is a Warrior. Even before The Curse of Achilles flows through his veins, battle makes his blood rush and his heart race as if in the throes of the most passionate love. It is the only true certainty of his character which everyone in the Camp can agree. As enigmatic as he is, there is no doubt that domination is in his blood. He seeks to dominate, to decimate, to destroy. He does not show mercy, and he does it all with a smile.

A follower of Kronos, one of the prisoners from the deepest pits of Tartarus, finally reforms. Even Chiron admits the being is one of the Feared Ones, a monster so ancient, the god's themselves have difficulty recalling his name.

He breaks through the Camp's borders.

Through the rank of Ares and the archers of Apollo.

He destroys Hephaestus' Cabin's automatons and nearly kills Charles, before Silena rescues him on a Pegasus.

Percy walks calmly outside, rumpled jeans, no shirt, Riptide held casually resting against his shoulders.

"You hurt my friends."

"I will destroy you, Son of Poseidon. I will destroy your Camp. I will destroy your precious demigods and then I shall make you watch your world burn! Come, little fish! Show me your heart."

"I'll show you my heart." He says, his eyes as cold as steel. "And then I'll show you yours."

Percy always keeps his promises.

5.) Percy is a leader…

… and she doesn't know why. She doesn't know why his orders are so compelling. Why he is so magnetic. In the Games, he leads the raids. It's expected. He never asks, never volunteers, they just defer to his guidance. It is natural.

Annabeth hears Chiron and a few satyrs discussing it. She hears as they speak of the innate strength found in children of the Big Three. Demigods feel the power in their blood and fall in line subconsciously. They seem uneasy. Chiron is the first to reply. He remarks that Percy is unusual. He is unique. His authority over others transcends the normal borders. Annabeth is unnerved. Chiron was alive when Children of the Big Three nearly destroyed the world. Percy was…worse? No, just potentially.

They track the demigods for seven miles, through dense foliage and rough terrain. Travis, with his rogue abilities, is vital to the task. Battle plans, troop coordination, and supply line documents being transported across state lines. It is an opportunity to disrupt Kronos in a massive way.

Seven demigods, the youngest about fifteen, pass time fidgeting and scanning the area cautiously. Annabeth awaits Percy's word. She knows she can sneak around them, and with the ocean so close, Percy can easily use the surf to hide himself. Travis is one of the best rogues in the camp. She only worries about Beckendorf. Percy, Annabeth, Beckendorf, and Travis remain hidden in the undergrowth of the area nearby, surveying the nervous group.

Game time.

"Annabeth, get to the other side. Keep to the shadows. On my signal, flank them. Beckendorf, rear distraction. The two near the fire seem dangerous. Focus on them. I'll take point. On my charge. Trav, get the case, get out. Back to the rendezvous and if we're not back in twenty, retreat straight to camp. These plans are important."

Attack?!

No argument, no discussion, no time for mistakes. Rumors of a large encampment nearby but unsubstantiated as of yet. Best to err on the side of caution and do nothing than to alert any possible scouting groups lest they be overwhelmed. Small skirmish, get the plans, and get away before any retrieval teams have a chance to catch up.

Everyone gets in position.

Just as one demigod scrapes his stave against a stone, Percy charges. The first demigod is disarmed and on the ground sporting the mark of Percy's fist on his face. Beckendorf clotheslines two charging boys as a girl attempts to edge on Percy. Annabeth tears out, seeing Travis grab a large silver container before sinking back into the forest from the corner of her eyes.

Annabeth uses the pommel of her dagger to destabilize the girl's position. Percy turns, agile as a tiger, and Riptide meets flesh. For a moment, the world freezes. The girl's body, stained deep red, falls to the ground. Percy never pauses. In the same movement, he pivots and hamstrings another.

He is smiling.

Two attack her. Percy is there in a second. One falls to him, the other he slams with the flat of his blade. "He's yours!"

He is so damn excited.

She doesn't think. She's an amazing knife fighter. One of the best in the camp.

Training kicks in.

One demigod lies on the ground, her dagger perfectly situated at in the center of his chest.

Beckendorf, emotionless, glassy eyed, distracted examines the two, unmoving by his hand.

Percy has killed three.

Five. Five out of seven. Two more lay on the ground. One, dagger embedded in flesh. Two, slashes across the torso, deep wound to the throat. Too thin for Beckendorf's camp issue blade or Riptide.

That was…me?

Travis approaches looking visibly shaken.

Percy laughs. He congratulates them. For a moment, his approval fills them with elation. Beckendorf's muscles relax from their tense state, and Travis cracks a small smile.

Annabeth smiles, then anger erupts inside her. She killed. He made her kill. Disgust, Shame, and Hatred well up inside of her. She hates him. She hates him for being so inspiring. She hates him for being so motivating. She hates him for taking her will away. She hates his charisma. She hates his strength. She hates him for making the battle seem so right, for making the murder feel so honorable. No one else can. No one else arouses passion in battle like Percy. He's still speaking.

Congratulating everyone on specific parts. Blood spatters across his breast plate.

None of it is his.

She hates how much she loves him.

She hates herself for hating him.

Later, she speaks to Charles.

"I didn't want to. When he fought, it seemed…so natural. As if we were his soldiers. I needed to fight with him. Percy's a warrior. When we fought, I felt powerful, joined. It was so compulsive. One minutes, I'm disarming, the next…they're gone."

His easy smile and warm eyes are gone.

"It's always like that. In the Games, his side always seems more cohesive. No matter what the situation, he inspires confidence. We do it…because we believe in Percy."

She speaks to Percy

He sees her and his lips curve upward. He leans forward for a kiss, but she pulls away.

"Why did you do it?"

"Because…you're attractive and I-"

"Why did they have to die!?"

"They were in our way. They were enemies. Now they're not."

She screams. She rages. She argues.

He remains irritatingly calm.

Eventually, she stalks off.

Later, she stands on the banks of the river, contemplating everything that has happened. A small wave forms, white sea foam spinning rapidly and depositing a water lily at her feet.

She feels his arms wrap around her, his voice whispers, "I'm sorry."

She leans into his embrace, and tells herself it will be all right.

She knows she is lying.