Chapter Text
Percy had come across many badass women in his life. But the woman standing in front of him right now? Yeah. She was different.
He hadn't meant to walk in on a murder.
He was just trying to find his way home. A left turn, a narrow alley, and suddenly he was staring down a scene that looked straight out of a horror movie.
A man. Tall, suited like a henchman, and very, very dead. He was collapsed face-first on the pavement. The woman unstuck one of her gold spikes from the corpse. She studied the way the blood began to flow from the open wound, pooling like ink from a broken bottle, before tilting her head back toward Percy.
She was gorgeous. Flat out. Scarlet red eyes. Jet black hair pulled back in a neat bun, not a strand out of place. A dark dress perfectly fell down her hourglass figure.
Percy felt himself redden. There was… a lot to look at.
"I didn't need your help" She said, tucking her spikes back underneath the folds of her dress. "But… I thank you."
Percy blinked. "Uh. Yeah. No problem." He slowly lowered Riptide, brushing himself off even though he hadn't done anything but gawk. "Is he…?"
"Dead?" Her voice was soft. Polite. "Yes."
"Right. Yeah. I figured."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. The kind that made Percy feel like the soundtrack to this moment should've been elevator music, or a single violin string snapping.
He coughed into his fist. "So. You kill people a lot, or was this a Tuesday-only kinda deal?"
She blinked at him, confused. "I'm sorry?"
"No—sorry. That was a weird thing to say. I'm just—" Percy scratched the back of his head. She didn't look like a bad person. Or evil. Or whatever. "Why?"
"I was defending myself," she said, almost too quickly. Her hands folded in front of her, ladylike. "He had a gun."
"Fair." Percy looked down at the pistol still clutched in the man's hand. "I see that."
He should've walked away. He really should have. But there was just something about her. It was obvious she wasn't telling the whole story. That, and the fact that she looked like she belonged on a red carpet, not a crime scene.
Also, there was the faintest flush in her cheeks now. She was nervous.
"You okay?" he asked.
She hesitated, then let out a groan, putting a hand to her forehead. "I'm late to a party."
Percy blinked. "I'll take that as a yes."
She kicked her feet in the air, blood specks flying off the bottoms of her stilettos. "It's a work party," she continued, ignoring him. "My coworkers are expecting me. So inconvenient that I need a date for their parties."
Potential serial killer and listening problems? Leo would call her a 10/10.
"So." She pointed at him, like it was a logical conclusion. "Would you be interested?"
Percy's heart skipped multiple beats as he was capping Riptide. "What?"
"In being my date." She said.
Percy blinked again. "To…?"
"To the party." She spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like she hadn't just taken a life and was now casually asking somebody out with the same tone she might use for a coffee order.
Percy's jaw hung open. His mom always told him he had good looks, but that was literally her job. Every mom did that. "You don't even know my name."
"I'm Yor," she said, curtsying.
He thought for a moment. "Like the pronoun?"
She tilted her head. "I'm sorry?"
"Nothing. I'm Percy."
Yor smiled at that. An awkward, shy kind of smile. It was cute. She really did look like somebody from those Japanese cartoons he watched.
"So?" she asked. "Would you like to be my date?"
Percy stared at the dead body again, then back at Yor. A part of him wondered if the dead man had previously been her date.
Annabeth? Reyna? Artemis? Grover was right. He really did have a thing for dangerous girls.