Let the Jason/Reyna spree before Mark of Athena BEGIN!

Disclaimer: Me now own

Defying Perfect

Jason was so glad when the camp fire was over. His brain hurt, and he'd had enough of avoiding people for the day. He dropped by bunker nine to say goodnight to Leo and perform his daily attempt to extract the son of Hephaestus from his work. Leo put up his daily protests and won as per usual. Jason didn't even argue as hard tonight. He didn't even threaten to go get Piper and her charmspeak. As mentioned; his brain hurt.

So when he curled up in Thalia's old alcove and fell asleep immediately (in a strange new place. That was simply not something that happened to him), he should have known his night wasn't going to be smooth sailing either.

He was in the throne room of the gods. Mismatched 6-feet-tall thrones forming a rectangle like the Camp cabins on a white marble floor and a rooftop supported by long and elegant columns was open overtop to show Jason a night sky dotted with stars.

"You've never seen this before, have you?" Someone asked.

Jason turned around and saw a woman with curly black hair packed up behind her head. She wasn't wearing any makeup which suited her, and she wore a simple white dress. She looked so natural at that moment; it made Jason think of what he'd imagine a mother to be like.

She was his step-mother.

"You," Jason said.

"Me," Hera said. "You should have seen the throne room before the war. You'd have been impressed by how much it grew in so little-"

"I'm Roman," Jason said. "Why in the world would I care about what the throne room of the gods looks like? Don't confuse me with Percy Jackson again."

Hera swallowed back the end of her sentence.

"Did you have a bad day?" She asked. "Because it looks like it."

"Why?" Jason asked. "Why did you do that? Why did you hook me up? You're my patron; you should've known I had other stuff going on."

"Stuff?" Hera said looking amused. Jason tried not to blush too fiercely. He chose to affirm himself.

"Yes, stuff." Jason said.

"You keep your romantic life very well hidden, praetor."

"Don't humour me," Jason said. "You knew it. You knew I was finally getting somewhere, and you knew that doing this would end poorly for someone."

"Not nece-"

"You knew. You admit it. So why did Piper wake up with those mist memories?"

"You fit together well," Hera shrugged. "A perfect match. I had to prompt it. You're both overall perfect by society's standards but you eye each other's insides and flaws enough to grow."

"What if I don't want a perfect match?" Jason asked.

"Don't be silly."

"What if I am silly?"

The goddess sighed. "Millions of people search for a perfect match their whole lives. I gave you one right away."

"That was your initiative, not mine." Jason said.

"Yes, it was." Hera said. "You should be thankful."

"You're so obsessed with the concept of perfect- perfect family, perfect match… What if I liked someone who wasn't perfect? What if I loved trying to make two puzzle pieces that don't match together fit? What if… what if I loved her?"

"Jason," Hera started.

"What if I liked how aggressive she was? What if I liked forcing the truth out of her because I liked knowing that deep down she was relieved? What if I liked carrying her secrets and playing with fire and getting anger taken out on me since it made her feel better? When things aren't perfect often, the little moments that are pop up and shine even more, and I'd kill to have more of those pop-up shiny moments again. I don't want perfect. I want Reyna if she'll want me." He said, finally bringing her name out.

"You two are too dedicated to Rome to be dedicated to each other. Your duties are always placed before your relationship and it will get old and you will get tired of it. Things that don't work cannot be used. She is too scarred inside to give her heart just yet. To top it off, you two always skirt away from each other in an exhausting dance every time one of you tries to open up, especially her, but you aren't guilt-free. You always have and you always will."

"What if that's perfect to me?" Jason asked.

"Stop being insolent child of Rome," Hera said. "I needed Piper to care for you and trust you during the quest- an instant tie. The fact it was her was a bonus."

"So what you're saying is that if we do work out in twenty years I'll be telling mini-Pipers that 'your mother and I met because someone had to be there to take care of my amnesiac behind'?" Jason asked. "How is that 'perfect'?"

Maybe he shouldn't have imitated her voice right there.

Too late now. Carpe diem.

"Jason," Hera threatened. She'd gone through an immediate switch from scary-patron-goddess-that-must-be-respected to stepmother-fight-now-right-now-super-hard-let's-do-this.

"You're so superficial."

"Jason if you settle for anything less than perfect, you're going to end up ten years later regretting it," she said.

"That's not a problem for me," Jason said. "I mean, what are the odds I both a) keep a girl for ten years and b) stay alive for ten years? I'm not… I'm not you, okay? My decisions don't work the same way yours do. Yours last forever, mine lasts until the next monster shows up."

"Jason Grace don't you dare suggest that there is anything I regret."

Your marriage by the sounds of it. I think everyone regrets that one. "Look, that's your philosophy, okay? Guess what Hera; I believe in imperfect and awkward matches and opposites attracting and that the blessings you work for are the best and breaking her shell because she's a beautiful person that the world just needs to see. I believe in Reyna and I, and you either go dream-break it to Piper right now, or I will."

He starred the goddess down for a while.

"You can't say that I never gave you anything, son of Jupiter."

Yeah, a migraine, Jason thought. "You gave me Piper and Leo as friends," he said. "I'll always be grateful. Just not about this."

Hera frowned and observed him.

"You're changing." She said. "The Greek camp is influencing you."

"No," Jason said. "Having something to fight for is influencing me. And it always has. And it's always been about Reyna. Guess you should have known that to be the perfect patron."

Reyna's eyes shot open and focused on the ceiling of her room.

She bolted up, unsure whether or not she'd just dreamed or witnessed something.

She turned on the lamp at her bedside and her eyes surveyed her room. No, it was impossible. She'd had too much work and too much loneliness today and her brain was wishfully thinking.

But… she had to check.

She slipped her feet out of bed and pulled on a hoodie and wrestling shoes, not bothering to change out of her baggy shirt and sweatpants. She made her way to the other praetor villa with a flashlight, using her own set of camp keys to unlock his door. She couldn't count the times she'd done that lately on both hands.

The place felt dead after two months of vacancy. She didn't have nearly enough time to keep it clean and brightened up; a thin sheet of dust coated everything and tickled her nose.

The Vestibule was the first room in a roman villa, and she flickered on the lights and examined it. Jason had left his helmet, his basketball and his hoody either hanging on a hook or on the overhead shelf. Shoes were thrown across. Most were old inheritances from New Rome or camp that were too small for him now. The one pair that was missing were his white, well technically dusty grey and white, basketball shoes.

The pair he'd been wearing in that dream.

The pair in which he'd basically promised her everything in.