Fic [Percy Jackson & The Olympians]: Purple Things - Thalia/Luke drabble
Title: Purple Things
Fandom:: Percy Jackson & The Olympians
Rating: PG
Word Count: 718
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Pre-series, Thalia and Luke snark, roughhouse, and reminisce while trying not to wake a sleeping Annabeth.
"Why so much purple?"
Thalia slaps his shoulder, before quickly drawing the backpack closed. It's her bag, so he shouldn't be looking over her shoulder. Especially since it's the pocket on the left side. The underwear pocket.
She doesn't know why, but she answers his question anyway. Probably because it's late and she's tried, and doesn't want to sleep.
"Because I am a girl, occasionally like to be somewhat girly-ish-kinda-sorta, and I hate pink."
Luke quickly puts his hand over her mouth, as if to silence her.
"Shh! Don't let Annabeth hear you. She found a crayon recently, and has been secretly drawing us pictures of bridges and lamp posts as unbirthday presents. She's been folding them up and keeping them in her pocket. You can use your brain and guess the color of the crayon."
Thalia frowns and glares. Only because it is less awkward than closing her eyes and concentrating on the feel of the warm hand that is leaving her lips.
"I'm not so stupid as to tell a seven year old that I don't like the color of a present she gave me. Sheesh."
Luke sits back for a moment, and glances over at the mini-pile of blankets where Annabeth is sleeping. He does that sometimes, just randomly looking out for them, making sure nothing's coming. Thalia does it too, but two pairs of eyes are better than one, and there's something about the cozy feeling in her stomach when Luke does it...
"And I kind of like purple."
Luke's attention is back, and his finger pokes her shoulder.
"Kind of?"
"Yeah, it reminds me of... good things."
It reminds her of Jason. Jason loved purple. He always pointed at the purple stuffed animals in the toy store, and really loved that purple spoon in the kitchenware drawer that came from box of sugary cereal with than annoyingly purple bird on the front.
Luke gives a little cough to draw her back to the present, before letting a far-too-smug smirk curl over his mouth.
"And these good things are so good that they must be associated with your underwear?"
She's not letting that one go, so she pounces on him, rolling him onto his back and punching his chest while he tries to kick out and throw her off. They do it half-heartedly, trying to be kind-of quiet, but mostly just lucking out that Annabeth is a heavy sleeper.
"I have a knife. You have a gut. I can totally introduce them to each other."
He leans forward to tease her, "You'd miss me, if I were dead."
"Yeah, but then I'd get to have your bag and mess with your stuff."
"Like my underwear? Oh wait--no. You wouldn't be interested in that, because it's blue. Pretty sure that's not purple enough for you."
She has at him again. Not only because he's pushing it, but also because now he has her thinking about the fact that his underwear's blue, and it's just too weird of a thought to be thinking in the middle of the night when she's such an odd combination of wired and tired.
They roll around till they almost bump into Annabeth's gently rising and falling blanket-pile-nest thing. It's then that his movements change, and his arms wrap around her in a hold. It's not so much to get leverage as to keep her still, and as she pushes at him, she realizes that he isn't going to let go. She feels warmth radiating again, as he mumbles into her hair.
"No more fighting for you. Annabeth's asleep and you should be too. It's my turn to keep watch."
She almost tells him that he can't tell her what to do, but she knows that if it were her turn to watch, she'd say the same thing to him. She's been trying to work on her hypocrisy. If anything, so he won't be able to tease her about it anymore. But it seems like he'll always find something else anyway.
"Go to sleep, you crazy punk chick. Dream of purple things."
She realizes she's too tired to punch, so she pinches through his shirt; it makes his body jerk, which only ends up making his hug tighter.
It's exactly what she needs to send her off to sleep.
f.i.n.
Fandom:: Percy Jackson & The Olympians
Rating: PG
Word Count: 718
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Pre-series, Thalia and Luke snark, roughhouse, and reminisce while trying not to wake a sleeping Annabeth.
"Why so much purple?"
Thalia slaps his shoulder, before quickly drawing the backpack closed. It's her bag, so he shouldn't be looking over her shoulder. Especially since it's the pocket on the left side. The underwear pocket.
She doesn't know why, but she answers his question anyway. Probably because it's late and she's tried, and doesn't want to sleep.
"Because I am a girl, occasionally like to be somewhat girly-ish-kinda-sorta, and I hate pink."
Luke quickly puts his hand over her mouth, as if to silence her.
"Shh! Don't let Annabeth hear you. She found a crayon recently, and has been secretly drawing us pictures of bridges and lamp posts as unbirthday presents. She's been folding them up and keeping them in her pocket. You can use your brain and guess the color of the crayon."
Thalia frowns and glares. Only because it is less awkward than closing her eyes and concentrating on the feel of the warm hand that is leaving her lips.
"I'm not so stupid as to tell a seven year old that I don't like the color of a present she gave me. Sheesh."
Luke sits back for a moment, and glances over at the mini-pile of blankets where Annabeth is sleeping. He does that sometimes, just randomly looking out for them, making sure nothing's coming. Thalia does it too, but two pairs of eyes are better than one, and there's something about the cozy feeling in her stomach when Luke does it...
"And I kind of like purple."
Luke's attention is back, and his finger pokes her shoulder.
"Kind of?"
"Yeah, it reminds me of... good things."
It reminds her of Jason. Jason loved purple. He always pointed at the purple stuffed animals in the toy store, and really loved that purple spoon in the kitchenware drawer that came from box of sugary cereal with than annoyingly purple bird on the front.
Luke gives a little cough to draw her back to the present, before letting a far-too-smug smirk curl over his mouth.
"And these good things are so good that they must be associated with your underwear?"
She's not letting that one go, so she pounces on him, rolling him onto his back and punching his chest while he tries to kick out and throw her off. They do it half-heartedly, trying to be kind-of quiet, but mostly just lucking out that Annabeth is a heavy sleeper.
"I have a knife. You have a gut. I can totally introduce them to each other."
He leans forward to tease her, "You'd miss me, if I were dead."
"Yeah, but then I'd get to have your bag and mess with your stuff."
"Like my underwear? Oh wait--no. You wouldn't be interested in that, because it's blue. Pretty sure that's not purple enough for you."
She has at him again. Not only because he's pushing it, but also because now he has her thinking about the fact that his underwear's blue, and it's just too weird of a thought to be thinking in the middle of the night when she's such an odd combination of wired and tired.
They roll around till they almost bump into Annabeth's gently rising and falling blanket-pile-nest thing. It's then that his movements change, and his arms wrap around her in a hold. It's not so much to get leverage as to keep her still, and as she pushes at him, she realizes that he isn't going to let go. She feels warmth radiating again, as he mumbles into her hair.
"No more fighting for you. Annabeth's asleep and you should be too. It's my turn to keep watch."
She almost tells him that he can't tell her what to do, but she knows that if it were her turn to watch, she'd say the same thing to him. She's been trying to work on her hypocrisy. If anything, so he won't be able to tease her about it anymore. But it seems like he'll always find something else anyway.
"Go to sleep, you crazy punk chick. Dream of purple things."
She realizes she's too tired to punch, so she pinches through his shirt; it makes his body jerk, which only ends up making his hug tighter.
It's exactly what she needs to send her off to sleep.
f.i.n.