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[mentalistjane]

It had been a long time since Patrick Jane had been to the tiny hut called home. So after he had spent time with both Daniel and Cole, and found out there were no more therapists left on the island to help him with his own particular 'issues', well, there really was nothing left to do but go home, and clean up what remained of his life

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[fatalpride]

Strangely enough, visiting the rec room has become something of a habit for Annabeth. Or more specifically, visiting the bookshelf in the rec room. It signified unlimited knowledge at her fingertips - although not always the knowledge she had hoped the find.

Now if only she could read half of it.

Today is different. Today she feels as though she's intruding on a private moment, walking in during the man's solitary and impromptu recital.

The bookshelf isn't co-operating with her today (in fact, it's sprouting a lot of glossy teen magazines featuring pretty girls in party dresses and promises of the secret to beauty inside. Something Annabeth isn't particularly interested in.

"What's the name of the song?"

[mentalistjane]

"Clair de Lune. It's by Debussy." Patrick glanced over to the young woman, and one eyebrow raised in faint surprise. Young, pretty, not the kind that would usually sit and listen to a middle-aged man play. So she must have come in for the books, stayed for the music ... by God, it was hard to turn off his brain. He turned back to the keyboard and kept playing.

"Do you know any of the classics, or is this your first exposure?"

[fatalpride]

She hadn't lived in what was known as the 'outside world' since the age of seven, and so was probably more familiar with lyre tunes or whatever the Apollo kids felt like singing that particular week. Annabeth shakes her head.

"Chi- the person who raised me was more likely to listen to the Greatest Hits of Dean Martin than anything else." she almost laughs but also rolls her eyes, missing Chiron more than she would admit.

With a frustrated sigh, Annabeth puts all of the books offered by the bookshelf back.

[mentalistjane]

He spun around on his seat to look at her, blue eyes watching her quietly. "The classics are what made Deano possible - not to mention every single artist to follow him. Basic musical and mathematical patterns, copied over and over again, to create new and better music. Weeeell, sometimes. I really don't understand the appeal of Hannah Montana."

[fatalpride]

"...Hannah Who?" music isn't her forte and never was, but she appreciates her mention of math and the patterns found within it. Of course, there was emotion that went into it too, but emotion couldn't be properly quantified anyways.

But now she's simply confused. Is that a name that she's supposed to recognize?

[mentalistjane]

"She's a popular teen artist. Which you didn't know about. You must have led a very sheltered life." Patrick said, and he paused. No, he was not going to start this again. At least, at this time anyways. "Nevermind about that - what sort of book are you looking for?"