A/N: Just a short little one shot I've been meaning to write. I had plans on making it longer, but I'm leaving in about five minutes so I just decided to end it there. I hope you guys enjoy it!

"Annabe-WHOA-Slo-" Percy could barely get a word in edgewise as Annabeth made her way down the mostly empty road in Percy's truck, which was given to him a couple days after the war by Paul and Sally. He was teaching (More like attempting) Annabeth how to drive, but as soon as she put the truck in reverse instead of drive and hit the gas, he knew he was in trouble. His seat belt was buckled sercurely, his knuckles white from gripping the handle on the door.

"I'm sorry!" She yells, her knuckles also white from gripping the steering wheel. With all her battle training, living at camp almost all year again, and once again, fights with her father and step mother, she hadn't found the time to take regular drivers training. Luckily, the minute she bats her big, storm gray eyes, Percy gives in easily.

She knew this truck was his baby. It was old, maybe a '76. It was rusted by the tires and definitely needed some interior work, but Annabeth had never seen him go a day without talking about it. His deep, sea green eyes would light up, and Annabeth always wondered if that's what her's looked like when she saw a structure that she liked.

That being said, her nerves were also accompanied by the fear of putting so much of a scratch on the less than perfect exterior.

"It's..." Percy trailed off as Annabeth narrowly missed a light pole. "Okay. Just take it easy a bit. You don't have to move the wheel so much." She responds by nodding, taking a deep breath. Her eyes never leave the road, but it's as if she doesn't see it at all. They had only been practicing for a half an hour, but he was sure that he was going to need new tires by the end of the day. Annabeth seemed to favor the big rocks on the other side of the white line.

Coming closer was a sign in the middle of the road with a rather large corn field behind it. The sign was an arrow pointing to both the left and the right. Percy curses under his breath. "Do you think you can manage to turn, uhhh, left?"

"Turn," Annabeth repeats softly. "As in, not going straight." Percy bites back the comment, 'It's not like you're going straight anyways' and nods.

With a wave of courage, she says, "I'll try not to get us killed," which earns a nervous chuckle from Percy. Annabeth comes to a stop as the road ends and turns on the turn signal, readjusting her grip on the wheel. "Let's do this."

There's a rush of thoughts for Percy as Annabeth's foot feels like five pounds of lead on the gas pedal. The first being, 'I've fought a minotaur, a titan, and a million telekhines, and this is how I'm going to go out.' The second was a small prayer to Poseidon not to turn him into kelp by taking pity on him. The third thought was what his shroud would look like and what the person who burned it would say. Perhaps, 'Here lies Percy Jackson, who could fight a minotaur single handedly, but couldn't teach his girlfriend to drive his truck properly. That poor, poor truck."

"Er, Percy? You're supposed to be telling me what to do, not closing your eyes," Annabeth said, tearing her eyes from the road momentarily to glance in the passenger seat.

The boy blinks, his eyes fluttering open. She's already turned safely. "Oh, right. Um, good job," he says, running his hand through his hair. A small sigh of relief escapes his lips. "Pull over up there," he tells her, pointing. "I'll take over and we can go get some lunch."

Managing to take out a few corn stalks as she does it, Annabeth pulls over, puts it in park, and hops out. He strides confidently to the front seat, a lop sided grin on his face. Annabeth scrunches her nose as she buckles her seat belt. "What are you so happy about?" She asks.

Percy smiles. "Because," he says. "I've finally found something I'm better at than you."