Chapter Text
Annabeth takes a deep breath before opening her email inbox. There’s only one unread email waiting for her.
“No more stalling, Annabeth, open the email!”
She obeys the command of the ever-impatient Piper, sitting next to her on the couch, and opens it with a laugh.
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Application
Congratulations Dr. Chase,
You are one of a select few candidates who have been chosen to move forward in the hiring process for the position of Assistant Professor — Classics. This will involve an interview with Dr. Brunner, the Dean of the College of Liberal Arts & Sciences. Please let us know your availability for this approximately one hour interview as soon as you are able. We will contact you to schedule the interview within a week of your notice of availability.
Sincerely,
Lacy Amas (she/her)
Hiring Team Manager @ NRU
Piper reacts first, squealing and wrapping Annabeth in a constricting hug as she works on processing the words laid out on her laptop screen. Congratulations Dr. Chase. Rereading that phrase alone shocks her back into the present.
“Holy shit! I landed the interview!”
It wasn’t that she was worried that her resume wouldn’t hold up or that there were better candidates. Annabeth’s worries were more that she’d be turned down considering her notoriety in… another field. Her M.Ed and PhD in classical architecture made her perfect for the position, but with a work history only including TA positions and penning four novels, she hadn’t been sure she’d even be a top candidate.
But here she was, sitting in the spacious, pristine living room of Piper and Jason’s house, opening up the email that could launch the next phase of her career. Annabeth knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up; she knows that it’s just an interview and she hasn’t gotten an official offer. But she’s always loved teaching, and to get the chance to do so at a prestigious institution close to all of her friends? That would be an absolute dream come true.
“Of course you landed the interview, Chase, you’re a genius.” Piper ruffles her hair with a grin as she frees Annabeth from her bone-crushing hug. “And after you kill that interview, you’re going to land the job.”
“Don’t jinx it,” she whines, already starting to overthink the rest of the process.
“I’m just putting some positive energy out into the universe on your behalf.”
“Fine. But don’t act so sure.”
“Why not?” Piper frowns at her, eyes soft. “Annabeth, you are the single smartest person I know. You have professional degrees in education and architecture, and you have a supernatural talent for creative writing because the rest just wasn’t enough. You’re more than qualified for this job, and if they don’t see that during the interview, then New Rome University isn’t half the institution they claim to be.”
Okay, so she’s got a point. Annabeth will concede that much. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high and then get crushed if things don’t go my way.”
“You never have done well with rejection.”
“ Hey! ”
Choosing her outfit for the interview totally hadn’t stressed Annabeth out to the point that she was almost late (almost showed up exactly on time instead of ten minutes early). Luckily, she had Piper on speed dial.
“Annabeth, you know I’ve basically only modeled couture for the past five years. I don’t know how helpful I’m going to be picking interview clothes.”
“Well, you know more than me about what things look nice together, and I can’t even settle on what blazer I want!”
“Show me your options.”
She complies, propping her phone up on top of her dresser and quickly showing off her options one by one until Piper’s picked out a reasonable outfit for an interview. After a quick thanks, she hangs up and tugs on the navy blue blazer and slacks with a light grey blouse that had been chosen for her.
It only takes a little bit of speeding for her to get to campus on time, and she settles in the chair outside the Dean’s office at 9:50. Perfect.
At 9:58 the door opens, and a voice beckons her inside. When she enters the office, she’s greeted by the warm smile of the man situating himself and his wheelchair back behind the tall, mahogany desk. “Good morning, Dr. Chase. It’s nice to meet you in person. As I’m sure you know, I’m Dr. Brunner, and I’ll be the one with the pleasure of interviewing you today.”
Despite the fact that Annabeth feels like her entire future is riding on this single hour of time, Dr. Brunner’s presence puts her immediately at ease. His office is appropriately cluttered, she notes, for an academic. Books and papers are scattered across most flat surfaces she can see, but there’s a cleared out space around his laptop, incredibly reminiscent of her own desk back at her apartment. Pictures and trinkets are also scattered about the walls and shelves, and it somehow all feels intentional.
“Thank you, Dr. Brunner. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“As you know, we’re looking to fill the assistant professor position for our classical architecture courses, as well as the introductory course for our students with a concentration in architecture. I’ve read your resume, but what I really want to know, Dr. Chase, is why you want this specific job.”
Annabeth blinks. She’d expected the question, it’s a rote one for most interviews, but pulling it out first thing definitely caught her by surprise. “Well, I’ve always loved teaching and instilling a passion for architecture, a passion for learning , in students. I know that New Rome is a very high-ranking and prestigious university, but there are others that outweigh it specifically in my field. I feel as if I can do what I love here while also serving the needs of your student body to get the caliber of education that NRU advertises to extend to this specialty.”
Dr. Brunner seems mildly surprised by her answer.
Okay, so maybe that was too bold for a job interview. But neither of them can argue that it’s not true. There was a reason that Annabeth didn’t attend NRU herself, and a reason that less than 100 students in each class of 5,000 in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences had concentrations in architecture.
The rest of the interview goes as well as Annabeth could have hoped, especially given her potential blunder at the very beginning. Though perhaps, she learns just before she exits the office, it wasn’t a blunder after all.
“We’ll let you know our decision within a week, Dr. Chase,” Dr. Brunner had told her simply, before leaning over the desk separating them and whispering conspiratorially, “But between you and me, you’re our top choice.”
She gets the acceptance email just two days later, once again sitting on Piper’s couch. This time she’s sandwiched between Piper and Hazel, not expecting an email notification to chime on her phone in the middle of their movie night.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Assistant Professor — Classics
Good evening Dr. Chase,
Apologies for the late hour of this email, but we wanted to let you know the news as soon as possible. Our hiring committee has just finished convening and has come to a decision.
You are our top candidate, and we are officially extending the job offer to you. If you choose to accept, we would love to have you join our team here at NRU. Just reply to this email with your decision and/or any questions you may have for us here in the College. Lacy Amas, who was contacting you during the preliminary hiring process, will be reaching out again with paperwork and the like.
Congratulations! (And hopefully welcome aboard.)
Sincerely,
Dr. C. Brunner (he/him)
Dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences
New Rome University
Holy shit. She actually got the job.
Annabeth gasps, and Piper immediately pauses the movie. “What? Did another famous person die? Please say it’s not Jason Momoa.”
“What? No, nobody died, Piper,” she laughs out, handing her phone over. “Just look at this email.”
She watches the elated expression on Piper’s face grow. “You got the job! I knew you had this in the bag, babes. I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, Piper,” she mumbles, unable to help the way she blushes under the praise. She’s still getting used to the way Piper throws compliments at her so easily after years of praise being withheld from her, or being given only to manipulate her later.
Both Luke and her father had been masters at that game. Nothing she did was worth much acknowledgement unless they wanted something from her. You’re such a talented writer, Annie, Luke would soothe, pressuring her to churn her novel out faster so that he’d look good. You think faster than anyone else I know.
Hazel wrapping her arms around Annabeth shakes her out of her thoughts. She just grins and thanks both of them again, basking in the warmth of their love that she’s still not entirely sure she deserves.
It doesn’t do well to dwell on the past anyway.
That night with Piper and Hazel marks the beginning of the next few whirlwind weeks of Annabeth’s life. She’s busy running between campus and her apartment, signing paperwork and completing orientations and trainings, combing through her closet to figure out how much shopping she needs to do before classes start.
Unfortunately, on the shopping front, she figures she could use a few more business casual outfits, and Piper, her resident fashion guru, is out of town. Without her, the mall is hell.
Well, if she’s being honest, the mall with Piper is still hell, but only because they either have to be escorted by a security detail or deal with being surrounded by a bunch of girls wanting Piper’s autograph or a selfie together.
Annabeth manages, somehow, but not without a few frantic texts to Jason, who’s less busy at the runway in Paris than Piper, and still very fashionable. He helps her select a handful of new blouses and slacks, as well as some more dressed-down shirts and dresses. Her wardrobe probably isn’t as important as her anxiety seems to think it is, but it is nice to have some new clothes, and she knows how important first impressions are.
First impressions.
The reason why she’s in a dark grey blazer over her new peach colored sundress on an eighty-five degree day.
She’s led to her office by the head of the classics department, Dr. Malcolm Pace. “Just call me Malcolm, please. Dr. Pace is so formal.”
“In that case, you can call me Annabeth.”
“Alright, then, Annabeth. I’m gonna run off for a minute and see if I can’t track down the chair of the architecture concentration to introduce you. She should be around here somewhere.”
He hurries off in search of her mystery coworker, leaving Annabeth alone in her new office. The room is small, just big enough to fit the desk and bookcase that were provided for her, as well as a small table and chair for any students who drop by. It’s bare, but the whole wall opposite the door is taken up by a window that overlooks one of many courtyards on the NRU campus. She can’t help but grin at the view: green grass and palm trees silhouette the ornate Corinthian columns of Severus Hall, pristine blue sky in the background.
She tears her eyes from the view out the window to assess her more immediate workspace. It’s set up nicely already so she won’t have to move any furniture, which means she can bring in and unpack her office supplies and books as soon as she’s able.
A knock on the door startles her out of her analysis of the space, and she whips around to see Dr. P— Malcolm standing beside an incredibly regal looking woman with dark hair and deep brown eyes. “Annabeth, as promised, I rounded up the head of the architecture concentration, Dr. Larisa Caelia.”
“So formal, Malcolm,” Dr. Caelia admonishes lightly. “Just Larisa is fine, Annabeth. Your resume was incredibly impressive, and Dr. Brunner gave you a positively glowing review. I look forward to working with you. Are you available after the department meeting at 1 today? I’m sure you’d appreciate a review of the curricula and past syllabi for the classes you’re taking over.”
“I’d love that, Larisa, thank you.” Annabeth is relieved by Larisa’s friendly demeanor. She knows all too well how some women have to act to be perceived as knowledgeable in the professional world — especially academia — but to know that the head of the concentration is comfortable enough to joke around with the head of the department and the new hire comforts her. It means she won’t have to posture much.
After the department meeting, Larisa insists on buying Annabeth lunch, and they sit in the air-conditioned atrium of Trajan Hall. She still can’t get over how all the buildings are named after leaders of ancient Rome and she gets to work in Trajan. The namesake of the Coliseum, a marvel of architecture.
Their “meeting” is more of a thorough rundown of the entire department, including Larisa’s opinions of the staff and the ones Annabeth should steer clear from if she doesn’t want to get into an argument about modern academia.
Of course, they do also review what the last professor had for syllabi and curricula for Annabeth’s classes, and if she’s being honest… it’s like they were written by a dinosaur. She tells Larisa as much. Even only having known her for a few hours, Annabeth gets the sense that Larisa is going to be a great coworker and an even better friend.
“Close, Annabeth, they were written by a ninety year old white man who was two decades past the point at which he should have retired. Frankly, he was two decades past his expiration date, but the devil didn’t want to claim him.”
The first day of classes sneaks up on Annabeth. It feels like just yesterday that she had unloaded her boxes of books onto the shelves in her office and arranged various trinkets and photographs of her with her friends around them. It had been just yesterday that she’d added some translucent blue curtains to the window and a few paintings to the walls. Her office finally felt like a space that she’d want to spend an entire workday in.
Lucky, considering now she would be spending entire workdays in it.
She was anxiously reviewing the syllabus for her first class (CLA310 — Classical Architecture) when Larisa poked her head in the doorway with an iced double-shot vanilla latte and some words of encouragement. “You’re gonna kill it, Annabeth. If any of the old men give you shit about your syllabus or teaching style, tell them to fuck off because I approved it. Also, and probably most importantly, I brought caffeine.”
“You’re a godsend, Larisa,” she sighs, eagerly taking the coffee from her hands. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I’ve given talks to entire auditoriums before.”
“Oh, you put too much pressure on yourself. These kids are, technically, adults. Just talk to them like people and make sure you get them the information they need, and most of them will love you. I promise.”
Annabeth can feel the slightest fraction of the tension release from her shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously. It means a lot that you’ve been helping me out so much and being friendly.”
“ Friendly? ” Larisa teases, grinning. “Come on, Annabeth, I brought you coffee, I’m pretty sure that makes us friends.”
“Okay, right,” she laughs, sipping her latte. Truly, thank fuck for Larisa. “If we’re friends, you won’t mind if I kick you out of my office to quietly scream for a moment before I head to my class, right?”
“As long as you scream quietly enough that no one else on this floor will call campus police.”
“Trust me, ‘Ris, I want to deal with university wannabe cops even less than you do.”
“Scream away then. I’d wish you good luck for your first class, but you won’t need it.”
As it turns out, Larisa is right.
The first two sections of her CLA course that she meets that day are more than welcoming, excited to have a professor that isn’t “as old as the buildings we’re studying”. As a bonus, they’re small sections, with no more than twenty students each, so she’s got a good chance to make connections with each of them.
Her prepared introductory spiel goes over well both times, too.
“Welcome to classical architecture, you guys, I’m Dr. Annabeth Chase. You can call me Dr. Chase, Professor Chase, even Annabeth. Whatever makes you comfortable. I’m new at NRU this year and I will be altering the way this class runs from the past format. This is no longer a lecture . I know as a student, I never did well in classes where I was just talked at for an hour or more.”
The smiles on her students' faces at just that admittance is wonderful encouragement.
“I’ll be doing my best to get all the necessary information to you in a variety of formats. I’ll talk for a little bit each class, you guys will talk to each other, there’ll be readings or videos — let me know how you learn best and I’ll do my best to work with you. My expectations of you are just that you do your best to be prepared and take in the information. Most importantly, I’m not here to fail you. I’m not your enemy. I want to help you learn, and I will work with you to meet that goal.”
After her second section, one student, Liam, comes up to her. “Hey, Dr. Chase? I’m sure you got the email from the accessibility office, but I have some accommodations in place, and I just wanted to talk with you about those?”
He’s sweet, if a little nervous, and she happily chats with him about how she can best accommodate him for the few minutes he has before rushing off to his next class.
All in all, she feels good about her first day.
By the second week of classes, Annabeth has hit her stride. She’s figured out how to balance her class time, office hours, grading time, and free time.
And it’s enjoyable for her, getting to interact with her students. Larisa even commends her on it.
“Three times now I’ve tried to bother you during your office hours only to see you already working with a student or two. What the fuck are you doing, Chase? It’s been… what, three or four classes with you and they’re already obsessed.”
She bites her tongue on the automatic deflection of the compliment in favor of a smile and a thank you . As much as she wants to brush it off, tell Larisa she’s just “doing her job”, Annabeth knows that she’s found her niche as a professor, and there’s no reason to try and convince her superior (she often forgets Larisa is technically her boss because she so rarely acts the part) otherwise.
Take that, Frederick, she thinks for a moment. I’m doing what you couldn't, which is being happy teaching.
It gives her a petty sense of pride that she’s found her footing so quickly in a field that her impossible-to-please critic of a father never managed to settle in. But that’s the least important reason she’s here.
What she had said to Dr. Brunner in her interview was the truth. Annabeth wanted to improve the architecture concentration at NRU with her knowledge and enthusiasm for both the subject itself and the art of teaching. This was evidently apparent to both Larisa and her students by only the second week, so. She’s happy with herself.
Already, picking up her and Larisa’s coffees at the campus Starbucks had become a Monday/Wednesday habit for Annabeth. She puts in the mobile order, takes a leisurely walk over to the cafe to pick up the cups from the counter, and bustles back to Trajan to hand off Larisa’s drink before settling in for her 2pm class.
Three weeks in and it’s automatic, so much so that Annabeth barely spares a glance for the people in line or sitting in the cafe area.
She does, however, have to look up and around to avoid bowling over people to get to her afternoon caffeine fix. This Wednesday, she’s particularly tired, and the line is almost to the door, so she’s readying herself to carefully pick her way through the crowd when she sees him.
It has to be her brain playing tricks on her — she’s just imagining the similarities between this tall, dark-haired man and her middle school best friend.
But he really does bear a striking resemblance. The longer she looks, the less sure she is that it’s just her brain playing tricks.
Despite the fact that she hadn’t seen him in almost two decades, Annabeth remembers Percy Jackson vividly. He was her best friend all the way up through middle school. Not just her best friend, but her saving grace. Her reprieve from the reality of her family. Her first kiss.
The man standing in the Starbucks certainly looks to be a mature, grown-up version of the boy she had once known. His eyes are the same color, a startlingly bright shade of green that always reminded her of the sea — a color that she hasn’t seen in anyone else’s eyes. His dark hair is the same mess of curls, but it looks more purposeful now, just a tad bit more controlled.
If it is Percy, he’s certainly aged well. The angle of his jaw is sharper, more severe. His shoulders have broadened in an incredibly attractive way, and he’s much taller. She swallows, still eyeing him intently. He’s hot.
And then his eyes meet hers, a look of surprise spreading across his face. She watches his pretty green eyes widen, watches the way his lips part slightly with the shock. Annabeth is staring at him, and he’s caught sight of her. He did a full double-take upon seeing her and she’s still…
She’s just staring.
Before she can reign in control of her mouth or the rest of her body, she’s taken a step towards him. “Percy? Percy Jackson?”
“Annabeth Chase? ”