"I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall;
I really don't know love at all."
~Both sides now, Joni Mitchell

Liper is my BroTP. That is all.

Soooo… this is the first time I've so much as touched the Romantic genre with a barge pole. XD

I had the lyrics stuck in my head all the while during the creation of this. Basically, take the "both sides" of love as the sibling-y/platonic side and the romantic side. Other than that, I hope it's fairly self-explanatory. From Leo's perspective (later), but it's Piper's PoV at the start.

I dedicate this to the wonderful Daizels (Admin Piper on Percy Jackson Fanclub on Facebook, where I'm Arrow). My epic Liper friend. :)

Piper's kind of based on me – hence the fussiness; that's just how she's developed in my head. I hope she's still in-character.

There are shed-loads of fandom references in here; have fun.

Edit: I finally fixed the spacing (it was annoying me). I hope it's better now. :)

"Bienvenida, Beauty Queen." Leo called, without turning around from the in-progress Argo II's control panel, "¿Cómo te va?" Piper blinked,

"Say what?" He laughed,

"Lower School Spanish wasn't wasted on you, was it? '¿Cómo te va?' is like 'what's happening?', or 'how's it going?'"

"Ah…" She nodded, "one of these days I'm going to start carrying a Spanish phrase book around with me. In answer to the original question, I'm good. Miniature dramas in Cabin 10, but nobody died."

"Yet," he said darkly, then turned. "Jeez, Beauty Queen, you were saying about nobody dying?"

"Hey!" she protested, putting whatever she was carrying down, sitting herself on one of the work benches and throwing at him the first thing that came to hand – a paint tin lid. He ducked and narrowly avoided a beheading.

"Well," he said reasonably, "we are very sorry to report the tragic passing of Piper's straight hair. Any details as to the cause of death?"

"Lacy. Mitchell. Drew. Red hot irons – sorry, hair curlers. Time of death approximately 6:30am."

"Harsh. Team Barbie not too big on the whole beauty sleep concept?"

"No comment." She thought for a minute, "actually, scrap that. A) Make another reference to the B word, and I will find something far more deadly to throw at you, and B) apparently early mornings are good for the complexion." He bowed,

"And you look positively radiant, dear." She resisted the urge to throw something else at him. Instead, she jumped down from the worktable and went to see what he was doing.

"You missed lunch."

"And?"

"Good time for a lunch break?"

"Meh. This dubstep soundboard isn't going to rewire itself." She raised an eyebrow,

"Dubstep soundb-? You know what? I'm not even going to ask."

"Probably wise."

"However, back to the point. You are, in fact, half an hour ahead of schedule." He looked confused,

"How did you..?" She grinned.

"Psychic. Do you like my oracle?" She tapped the timetable taped to the wall. He cursed in Spanish. "I knew having that taped up was a bad idea."

"Don't argue with a Charmspeaker, Leo. Lost cause." He muttered assent, and she smiled sweetly at him. "Does this mean I win?"

He gave her a look, "You never win."

"Lies."

"I know," he explained, "but I'm not going to admit that, am I?" They looked at each other, then cracked up laughing. It wasn't all that funny, but they were both over-tired. She looped her arm through his and led him over to a corner that looked relatively clear of deadly weaponry – not easy to find at Camp, never mind in Bunker Nine – ignoring his half-hearted protests. She pushed him against the wall and put her weight on his shoulder, forcing him to the ground.

"Sit," she told him with mock-severity, "Stay. Good Leo." He glanced up at her, sitting cross-legged with his back to the wall.

"Well, I'm not even sure how to reply to that. You're quite cruel when you're that way inclined, Beauty Queen. All the pretty girls turn out to be psychos – it's one of life's great tragedies." She ignored him and sprinted back to the bench where she'd left her things, returning a few seconds later with a box of sandwiches and two cardboard cups balanced on a bottle of diet coke. She sat down next to him and offered him some of the scratch lunch.

"You're not going to win this argument. The sooner you eat, the sooner you get to go back to your… whatever you do to entertain yourself every hour of the day and night."
He bit into his sandwich without complaint; most days, he refused to leave the Bunker to dine with the other campers, but he was obviously starving. It worried her. He seemed to catch her train of thought.

"I've got a job to do, Pipes. You know that."

"You've got a quest to complete, too. You're no good to us dead."

"Cheery soul today, aren't you?" Seeing the look on her face, he raised his hands slightly in surrender. "Okay, okay. Enough of that." He poured some coke into each of the two glasses and drank from one of them gratefully. Piper took hers and they ate in silence. When they'd finished, she put the box on the floor a couple of feet away. "Has Jason gotten around to asking you out yet?"

"Wait- what?" She stared at him like he'd sprouted Midas-style donkey ears.

"You heard."

"I- um… no. Not yet. I mean, er, no. No." She put a hand over her eyes and peered through her fingers at him, hoping she wasn't blushing. "Why are we having this conversation?" He laughed at how flustered she'd become.

"Well, he'd better step in quick – as Aphrodite head councillor and almost certainly the most gorgeous girl at camp, I daresay you're in high demand. Your old plans to die an old cat lady? Pretty much out of the window." She shoved his arm, almost sending him sprawling.

"Get lost, Valdez. Gods of Olympus, who's cruel now? Anyway," she dusted off her tattered jeans, "my old cat lady plan is doing just fine, thank you, mister." He sat up.

"Mister? Exactly how old am I, Pipes? More to the point, what year is this?"

"I think my housekeeper is immortal. She's a bad influence."

"I will never, ever get over the fact that you have a housekeeper. BBC Sherlock, much?" Piper looked up at him teasingly through her eyelashes.

"You said I'm a psychopath. I'm not a psychopath, I'm a highly functioning sociopath. Honestly, you should know the difference."

"You're evil, whatever you are. Begone, temptress!" He pushed her away, so that she was the one sprawled across the floor. She didn't even bother to get up, but lay there and stared at the rafters and supports so high above. After a couple of minutes, evidently bored, Leo stretched out and prodded her with his foot. She didn't respond, so he went quiet for a second. She listened, but couldn't hear anything. Then he lunged and tickled the sides of her ribs; a trick he had, to her dismay, learned in the Wilderness School. She shrieked and rolled away.

"Oh, no," she yelped, "don't you dare." As expected, he ignored her.

"Highly functioning sociopath, hey? We'll see how long that lasts..." The resulting chase might've lasted ten or fifteen minutes; she wasn't really counting. Being careful not to knock anything too deadly – hey, they were demigods; it was an occupational hazard – she ran for it.

Piper was a better runner than Leo, but he knew the terrain better, so she figured they were roughly evenly matched. Eventually, she made a beeline for the centre of the bunker and hid behind Festus, muttering, "sorry, boy," as she vaulted over the bronze head. She put her hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay, I yield – you win! Please don't tickle me again. Anyway," she continued in a reasonable tone, "maybe 'barely functioning' would be more appropriate; let's leave the clever stuff to you, mhmm?" He grinned breathlessly, sitting on the edge of Festus' stand.

"You ever plan to go into the evil mastermind business, Beauty Queen, you let me know."

"Together, we'd be unstoppable," she agreed. He smiled at that, and Piper took a seat beside him. "Speaking of which," she continued, "you got anything planned for tonight?"

"Errr, control panel mostly."

"This being the dubstep soundboard?"

"Partially."

"Well, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off, "oh, shush, Leo, let me finish." Obediently, he shushed. "It's Capture-The-Flag tonight and you've got a choice, Mister Cabin-Nine-Head-Councillor."

"I have?"

"Mmm-hmm. There's two teams, right? Red and blue. Jason's thrown his lot in with the blues and so, incidentally, have the Ares kids – we're doomed – and your crew are allied with the reds. The Aphrodite Cabin haven't picked a side yet; so what's it to be? You and me against Jason, or Jason and I ganging up on you?"

"I noticed the word choice there, Pipes. I guess you and Team Barbie are a package deal, hmm?" She shrugged,

"Yeah, but they're getting quite dangerous now; I've been busy, you know. Lacy – the little girl with blonde pigtails and braces – she may look innocent, but the girl's a mini psychopath. She's addicted to crime drama and always guesses who the murderer is within, like, ten minutes of them finding the body. Yeah, before you ask, we like our crime drama in Cabin Ten. Some free advice: never bet against Lacy. Also, Mitchell's only thirteen, but he's a dab hand with that rapier of his. And the others aren't all bad; we just need to keep them away from the nymphs and any reflective surfaces. Don't worry; I'll threaten to ban make-up and cut bathroom time. They're easily manipulated." He shook his head.

"Poor child. Okay, it's a deal, McLean. Let's go beat up your boyfriend." She didn't deign that one with a reply, but they shook hands on the agreement. After a second, she folded her arms and shook her head, then stood up and dusted herself off. He did likewise.

"Anyway, I guess I'm going to have to love you and leave you; I left Mitchell in charge, but Drew might go into savage-Bratz mode – not a pretty sight – and eat him if I leave them for too long. We wouldn't want that; I'm quite fond of the boy, really. So... the game starts at seven. I'll come and find you at half six, okay? Then we'll go and try not to die, and afterwards you are not coming back to the bunker – no, Leo, don't argue – you will go back to your cabin with the kids you are supposed to be leading – and yes, I know that they're actual people and actual people really aren't your thing, but they're all as crazy you as it's possible to be, so that's okay – and sleep in an actual, real bunk rather than some corner in here and then only come back here at a sensible time tomorrow; that means after breakfast with the rest of the camp. Deal?"

"This is feeling rather one-sided, Pipes."

"Deal?" He sighed.

"You got it."

She grinned. "Excellent." She tackle-hugged him, completely without warning, and nearly knocked him over. He steadied himself, and then hugged her back. Then he held her out at arm's length.

"Now, what? No-one's dying (last I checked, anyway), and we've still got a few months until the end of the world." She laughed,

"You're my best friend, idiot. Can't I just be pleased to see you?"

"You're a fussy little critter, really, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little." She shrugged, "Anyway, I'll see you at half six, yeah?" She waited for his reply to the affirmative, then sprinted out of the door, pausing only to grab her bag and the lunch stuff.

Meh, not sure about that ending... Ah, well.

It's exam season at the minute, so part two might take a while. :(

When it does come, there'll be make-up, giant ants and Jason (a little bit, at least).

If you enjoyed this, let me know in the reviews. :)