A/N: Dedicated to my friend Sabrina, mostly because I'm chatting with her as I'm writing this. o.o okay, so here we go. I don't think I've written a fic in quite some time, so excuse any signs of poor grammer, cliche moments, and Mary Sues.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiled cockily, waiting for an answer. Not that he didn't know her name, of course. Being the Percy Jackson, he knew just about everything and everyone in the City, and he made it his business to get into all sorts of happenings. Hot, famous, and loaded with cash, he was the kind of person that popped up in the Celebrities section of the New York Times on a weekly basis. He was a businessman, sure. But he was also the kind of guy to hit the clubs after eleven o'clock and lasted till 2 am before taking some chick home for the night.

The girl pushed her strawberry blonde strands from her face. "Annabeth Chase, sir."

"Mm. And why are you applying for this position?"

He made the word position sound dirty, Annabeth thought. And to think she was applying to be his assistant.

Shit.

"To be honest, my family's in a crisis. My father just died, and I have to support my family, seeing as my mother's gone crazy..." Annabeth gave a polite smile. She never did like the whole pity thing, but she needed this job. Badly. If she didn't get this job, they might even have to live off on food stamps. Her father never did quite save up money.

Percy had seen lots of these kinds of girls. Well, the applicants were usually separated into three times - number one being the fangirl groups who were quite happy enough to just meet him in person and get to have a whole conversation, number two being the geeky ones who actually wanted the job not because of him, and number three being...the Annabeths.

She was quite pretty too, in the non-leggy blonde way. There was no way Percy Jackson would ever take in someone ugly as his assistant. At least she passed the test.

He grinned mockingly. "Okay, Ms. Chase, you get the job."

"No shit."

"Yes shit." He could get used to this. "Report in for work on Monday morning. I'll assign you your desk and get someone to show you around."

Annabeth smiled at him, really smiled, maybe for the first time in weeks. "Thanks, Mr. Jackson. I'm sure I'll live up to your expectations."

"I'm sure you will," he replied, and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, detecting the innuendo.

Annabeth, he thought.

"Don't leave me. God. Please." Her eyes were searching for any signs of life, but they were slipping away, just like the sunshine from the sky. "You promised, Percy. Please." Her voice was in pain now. "Hades! Shit."

He could only look at her to see her broken face, her broken soul, and his heart shattered into a million pieces. He was falling, the pieces were falling, and they glittered like diamonds for a millisecond to only shatter once more to the beat of her pulse.

"Try three times," he managed to croak. "I love you, Anne."

and those eyes just became black whirlpools, reflecting Annabeth's tearful face

and

she mouthed three words back

every teardrop was

a waterfall.

Percy was totally pissed off when it turned out that the 'special place' Rachel was taking him was Grover's house. Well, more like Grover's house in full partay mood. He really wasn't in the mood, truth be told. Like, seriously, a few shots and tequila isn't the answer to everything, but his friends seemed to believe that such a myth was true. Well, fuck them. He's consumed way too much alcohol in his life to even qualify to say this, but alcohol sucks.

(Only at the moment, anyways. um, lol.)

Annabeth Chase was driving him absolutely fucking crazy.

He wasn't only being driven by the know-it-all things she did all the time - the annoying grammer checks over every damn thing, random facts about architecture, and enough criteria to even make a rabbi feel depressed...those were only on the top of the list. She was so much smarter and sharper than he was that sometimes, he thought that he should be the assistant instead and appear at press conferences, or something. Hot guys always succeeded in business. (Not really, but you know what I mean.)

No, it was the way her strawberry blonde hair swept over her shoulders, the way her stormy eyes looked so persistently at him, matching the sprinkle of freckles across her nose - she was beautiful, and not in the blonde slut way. And sometimes he could just barely - just barely - see down her shirt. He was still a guy, after all. You know. You can't really blame him.

And she didn't know she had such an effect on him. She probably just thought of herself as the intimidating smart ass, the girl to slap him out of his daydreams.

But he also had the feeling that he had met her before.

Those grey eyes would be pretty hard to forget.

A/N: Okay, my mind is totally dead. Got to pass out. Yep, multi-chapter story it is. I never can continue on with these things but hey, you never know.

I know this was really short. Like I said, I can never get my mind to work past 10pm. Don't blame me.

kisses xoxo

probably going to do first person povs from next time, so...review? Reviews are like the fuel to my writing soul. xD

you can even just say something like FUCK YEAH HI THERE YOU.

bye.