fic: A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone [PJO, Annabeth and Rachel, PG-13]
Title: A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Annabeth and Rachel, with Percy/Annabeth on the side
Spoilers/Warnings: Character mentions from The Lost Hero.
Summary: “All right,” Rachel says. “So tell me. How’s Percy in the sack?”
Notes: I kind of adore the idea of Rachel having to teach Annabeth how to be a traditionally girly with sleepovers and stuff. It makes everything all sorts of hilarious.
A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone
“All right,” Rachel says, bending her head over Annabeth's feet. She lifts the nail polish brush and poises it above the other girl's toes. “So tell me. How's Percy in the sack?”
Annabeth chokes on her frozen daiquiri, and unconsciously jerks her foot away just as Rachel lowers the brush. Black polish streaks across her nail, ruining what had been Rachel’s attempt at recreating Van Gogh's Starry Night on her big toe.
“Aww, Annabeth! Now I have to start over … ”
“What did you say?” Annabeth asks as Rachel reaches for the bottle of polish remover.
“I believe I asked how your boyfriend is in bed,” Rachel says, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Isn't that what you're supposed to do at girly sleepovers? Drink illegal booze, watch crappy romance movies while we do our hair, and talk about sex and stuff?”
“I - I don't know,” Annabeth replies, and isn't that the truth. She's 18 years old, about to go to college, and this is the first normal sleepover she's ever been to in her life. “Usually at camp, we talk about new weapon plans and workout regimes and - ”
Rachel's nose scrunches in distaste, and she holds up a hand to stop Annabeth in her verbal tracks.
“Ugh, boooring. That's all we ever talk about. How about something non-camp and icky drooling monster related for once?”
“Like sex?” Annabeth whispers, as if Rachel's parents will somehow hear her over the music playing on the stereo and from two floors up. Her cheeks flush with combined heat from the alcohol and mortification. “Why would I ever want to talk about sex? Especially with you! You're the virgin Oracle, for Pete's sake! You're not supposed to even consider doing anything like that!”
Rachel rolls her eyes, and starts dabbing at Annabeth's big toe with a remover soaked cotton ball. “It's not like talking about it is going to pop my cherry, you know.”
“Well,” Annabeth huffs, gulping down her drink to cover her embarrassment. She winces as brain freeze hits her and tries to concentrate on her words. “Whatever. I don't want to talk about it. That's private between me and Percy.”
Rachel whistles lowly, and tosses the now blue-stained cotton ball away from her.
“He must be pretty bad if you don't want to talk about it.”
Annabeth's jaw drops, and the words are flying out of her mouth before she realizes this is Rachel's cheap attempt at manipulation.
“Percy's not bad! He's great, I'll have you know!”
She claps a hand over her mouth, mortified she said that, and the redheaded devil sitting at her feet smirks at her with great satisfaction.
“Score one for the Oracle,” she says, licking her finger and marking an imaginary tally in the air above her head. “So he's good in bed, huh? You gotta give me details, Annabeth. When was your first time, is giving a blow job gross, what's your favorite position, how big is his - ”
“Rachel Dare!” Annabeth squeals. “I am not telling you how big my boyfriend's … thing is!”
“I bet he's hung like a horse. I saw Jason's once, totally by accident, and damn, he ain't a son of the Big Three for nothing. It had to be like - ” Rachel holds out her hands at an outrageous length apart. “ - this big, I swear.”
“ ... there is no way it can be that big.”
Rachel nods solemnly. “I swear to Olympus, it was at least that big.”
Annabeth groans and lays back on the carpet, her face burning. She can't believe their innocent hey, what dress should I wear to graduation conversation has turned into speculating about the size of Jason Grace's penis. It has to be the alcohol - how much had Rachel put into her glass anyway? - or maybe they've gotten a contact high from the nail polish fumes. This is just ridiculous. Surely normal girls don't pry into each other's private lives like this.
Not for the first time, Annabeth reflects on how weird it is to be friends with Rachel. Annabeth's never been able to make friends with other girls outside of camp easily; she's too competitive and serious, and after everything she's gone through in her life, listening to other girls in the cafeteria whine about shoes or spread gossip during class is the last thing she wants to do. Rachel's not exactly normal either - most of her friends at school don't have a private jet at their beck and call or glowing green eyes - but she's not a demigod and spent sixteen years of her life outside of the world of Olympus. She knows how to be a mostly normal girl better than Annabeth could ever dream to.
Usually, Annabeth likes being Rachel's friend. But tonight is one of those nights that makes her contemplate why she even bothers. She’d rather slay Gorgons than tackle girl talk.
“I thought they were supposed to breed this sort of talk out of you at Clarion. Why are you even asking me about all of this?”
Rachel abandons her collection of nail polish and lays herself out next to Annabeth, propping her head up on her hand so she can maintain eye contact.
“I'm curious. Since I'm a sworn virgin, I've got to live vicariously through you and celebrate your achievements in the great wide world of copulation as if they were my own,” Rachel explains, poking Annabeth in the shoulder. “So spill, girlfriend. How big is Percy’s wang and how often does he rock your world?”
Girl talk is a far more dangerous territory than a Gorgon’s den and, as a master strategist, Annabeth knows there’s no way to escape this trap Rachel’s set. And judging by the triumphant grin on her friend’s face, the other girl knows this too.
So, blushing furiously and staring determinedly at the ceiling, Annabeth gives in and holds up her hands.
Now with the Percy and Nico counterpart, The Talk
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Annabeth and Rachel, with Percy/Annabeth on the side
Spoilers/Warnings: Character mentions from The Lost Hero.
Summary: “All right,” Rachel says. “So tell me. How’s Percy in the sack?”
Notes: I kind of adore the idea of Rachel having to teach Annabeth how to be a traditionally girly with sleepovers and stuff. It makes everything all sorts of hilarious.
A Little Girl Talk Never Hurt Anyone
“All right,” Rachel says, bending her head over Annabeth's feet. She lifts the nail polish brush and poises it above the other girl's toes. “So tell me. How's Percy in the sack?”
Annabeth chokes on her frozen daiquiri, and unconsciously jerks her foot away just as Rachel lowers the brush. Black polish streaks across her nail, ruining what had been Rachel’s attempt at recreating Van Gogh's Starry Night on her big toe.
“Aww, Annabeth! Now I have to start over … ”
“What did you say?” Annabeth asks as Rachel reaches for the bottle of polish remover.
“I believe I asked how your boyfriend is in bed,” Rachel says, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Isn't that what you're supposed to do at girly sleepovers? Drink illegal booze, watch crappy romance movies while we do our hair, and talk about sex and stuff?”
“I - I don't know,” Annabeth replies, and isn't that the truth. She's 18 years old, about to go to college, and this is the first normal sleepover she's ever been to in her life. “Usually at camp, we talk about new weapon plans and workout regimes and - ”
Rachel's nose scrunches in distaste, and she holds up a hand to stop Annabeth in her verbal tracks.
“Ugh, boooring. That's all we ever talk about. How about something non-camp and icky drooling monster related for once?”
“Like sex?” Annabeth whispers, as if Rachel's parents will somehow hear her over the music playing on the stereo and from two floors up. Her cheeks flush with combined heat from the alcohol and mortification. “Why would I ever want to talk about sex? Especially with you! You're the virgin Oracle, for Pete's sake! You're not supposed to even consider doing anything like that!”
Rachel rolls her eyes, and starts dabbing at Annabeth's big toe with a remover soaked cotton ball. “It's not like talking about it is going to pop my cherry, you know.”
“Well,” Annabeth huffs, gulping down her drink to cover her embarrassment. She winces as brain freeze hits her and tries to concentrate on her words. “Whatever. I don't want to talk about it. That's private between me and Percy.”
Rachel whistles lowly, and tosses the now blue-stained cotton ball away from her.
“He must be pretty bad if you don't want to talk about it.”
Annabeth's jaw drops, and the words are flying out of her mouth before she realizes this is Rachel's cheap attempt at manipulation.
“Percy's not bad! He's great, I'll have you know!”
She claps a hand over her mouth, mortified she said that, and the redheaded devil sitting at her feet smirks at her with great satisfaction.
“Score one for the Oracle,” she says, licking her finger and marking an imaginary tally in the air above her head. “So he's good in bed, huh? You gotta give me details, Annabeth. When was your first time, is giving a blow job gross, what's your favorite position, how big is his - ”
“Rachel Dare!” Annabeth squeals. “I am not telling you how big my boyfriend's … thing is!”
“I bet he's hung like a horse. I saw Jason's once, totally by accident, and damn, he ain't a son of the Big Three for nothing. It had to be like - ” Rachel holds out her hands at an outrageous length apart. “ - this big, I swear.”
“ ... there is no way it can be that big.”
Rachel nods solemnly. “I swear to Olympus, it was at least that big.”
Annabeth groans and lays back on the carpet, her face burning. She can't believe their innocent hey, what dress should I wear to graduation conversation has turned into speculating about the size of Jason Grace's penis. It has to be the alcohol - how much had Rachel put into her glass anyway? - or maybe they've gotten a contact high from the nail polish fumes. This is just ridiculous. Surely normal girls don't pry into each other's private lives like this.
Not for the first time, Annabeth reflects on how weird it is to be friends with Rachel. Annabeth's never been able to make friends with other girls outside of camp easily; she's too competitive and serious, and after everything she's gone through in her life, listening to other girls in the cafeteria whine about shoes or spread gossip during class is the last thing she wants to do. Rachel's not exactly normal either - most of her friends at school don't have a private jet at their beck and call or glowing green eyes - but she's not a demigod and spent sixteen years of her life outside of the world of Olympus. She knows how to be a mostly normal girl better than Annabeth could ever dream to.
Usually, Annabeth likes being Rachel's friend. But tonight is one of those nights that makes her contemplate why she even bothers. She’d rather slay Gorgons than tackle girl talk.
“I thought they were supposed to breed this sort of talk out of you at Clarion. Why are you even asking me about all of this?”
Rachel abandons her collection of nail polish and lays herself out next to Annabeth, propping her head up on her hand so she can maintain eye contact.
“I'm curious. Since I'm a sworn virgin, I've got to live vicariously through you and celebrate your achievements in the great wide world of copulation as if they were my own,” Rachel explains, poking Annabeth in the shoulder. “So spill, girlfriend. How big is Percy’s wang and how often does he rock your world?”
Girl talk is a far more dangerous territory than a Gorgon’s den and, as a master strategist, Annabeth knows there’s no way to escape this trap Rachel’s set. And judging by the triumphant grin on her friend’s face, the other girl knows this too.
So, blushing furiously and staring determinedly at the ceiling, Annabeth gives in and holds up her hands.
Now with the Percy and Nico counterpart, The Talk