Annabeth was honestly very surprised when Percy proved to be an excellent battle strategist. Then again, he had just spent some time as praetor of the crazed war machine that was the Twelfth Legion, so she figured she had to give him some credit.

Right now he was up on the table in the lounge, each slash of Riptide just barely missing the ceiling as he sparred with Piper. He'd wanted to demonstrate a move for Hazel and Frank that could disarm an enemy and have them pinned to the ground in three seconds flat, but so far Piper was putting up a pretty good fight. Percy had had no room to get in under her guard after several minutes of continuous blows—of course, she wasn't having much luck either.

"Gods, woman, just give up already!" Percy growled, eyes narrowed.

Piper's only reply was a grin as she parried away his overhead cut.

Laughing to herself at her boyfriend's frustration, Annabeth turned back to her sketchbook, where she'd been staring at a blank page for the last two hours. It was late and her brain was fried, but she didn't think she could go to bed yet—not without Percy, anyway. She couldn't fall asleep without knowing her was right there next to her, alive and okay. (It was because of this that Leo had started calling Annabeth "Mrs. Jackson" behind Coach Hedge's back.)

Speaking of Leo, the son of Hephaestus was (of course) hogging the shower again, though it had gotten surprisingly easy to tune his horrible singing out altogether. The seven had started tossing around things with which to compare Leo's voice earlier; the issue was still being hotly debated twenty minutes later.

"WE ARE NEVER EVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHERRRR—"

"It sounds like a pack of Laistrygonians going Christmas caroling," said Hazel from the opposite corner, flinching slightly as Percy and Piper jumped off the table and practically sat on each other as they made for the best chair—Piper won, leaving Percy to admit defeat and come sit beside Annabeth. He wrapped one arm around her, dropped his head onto her shoulder, and promptly dozed off. She had to laugh. Seaweed Brain.

MAMA, OOH—DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRYYYYYY, IF I'M NOT BACK AGAIN THIS TIME TOMORROOOOOOOW—"

"No, Hazel, I think you're wrong," said Jason. "It sounds like Octavian trying to give orders during the war games—he's either ordering the First Cohort to hold the line or he's trying to achieve his lifelong dream of becoming Beyonce."

"ALL THE SINGLE LADIES!"

Jason buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Jupiter, he heard me."

"I GOT THE MOOooOoOooOVES LIKE JAGGER!"

"You're both wrong," said Percy, his head still resting against Annabeth's shoulder. "It sounds like a harpy having sex with Rebecca Black while simultaneously playing the bagpipes very out-of-tune."

"Aren't bagpipes always out of tune?" asked Annabeth rhetorically.

Piper stared at Percy. "That," she said slowly, "may be the single greatest description of Leo's singing that I've ever heard."

Annabeth flung her pencil across the room in exasperation with her drawing, which was mediocre at best. Unfazed, Piper tilted her head to the side just enough that the pencil went whistling past her ear and stuck, quivering, in the wall.

"Can't settle on something you like, Wise Girl?" asked Percy.

She shook her head frustratedly. "I just can't draw anything right now!"

From the bathroom came Leo's voice: "ANNIE CAN'T DRAW, ANNIE CAN'T DRAW, ANNIE CAN NOT DRAW!"

"SHE ONLY READS BOOKS AND SHE CAN NOT DRAW, EVEN IF SHE'S READING A HOW TO DRAW BOOK!" yelled Percy and Jason, both of them grinning.

"Hey!" Frank shouted over the singing, which was getting progressively more out of control. "Leo can't sing, either!

Everyone joined in with the round of "LEO CAN'T SING, LEO CAN'T SING, LEO CAN NOT SING—HE ONLY READS BOOKS AND HE CANNOT SING—"

Leo himself came running into the room, wearing nothing but a towel, still with shampoo in his hair. "I am Leo freaking Valdez—hey, hey, hey, guys, remember how Annabeth can't draw? She can't draw!"

And he went skipping out of the room—slipping only about five hundred times on the trail of water he'd left on the floor—waving his hands on high like a conductor to the tune of "ANNIE CAN'T DRAW, ANNIE CAN'T DRAW, ANNIE CAN NOT DRAW—"

A/N: SWEET POSEIDON I DID NOT EXPECT THIS STORY TO BECOME SO POPULAR.

As of now, we stand at 139 reviews. I'm hoping we can maybepossiblyhopefully get that number to 200? Pretty please with extra blue cement on top? :)

I love getting all of your input on this story because all your reviews make me crack up so hard. I know I can't really take the time to reply to them individually, but I swear I read and appreciate every single one! Thanks again, guys.

(Also, for those who haven't seen it, the last song is a parody version of Starkid's "Hermione Can't Draw" from A Very Potter Sequel.)

EPC