A.N.: So I haven't updated in awhile, I took a break from fanfiction because freshman year was so busy and I had Nutcracker and shop exploratory (I go to a technical high school) but now Nutcracker is over, and I have been placed in my shop (Culinary Arts, which was my first choice) and now I've been slowly updating my stories. It will happen, but it will be slow. I'm almost on Holiday break, so, it should pick up a little after this Friday.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or the characters, but I would like them for Christmas…

Five: Reyna PoV

I had come to the conclusion that I would most likely kill myself before I made to Manhattan within the first two hours of our trip.

It was late, granted, and I'd had a long day, but Leo was full of energy, largely thanks to a Red Bull he had drained earlier. So we'd set out shortly after he could pack his bags and I could load my luggage into Marilyn Monroe. I'd hooked my GPS up to his car and we'd hit the road.

Now I was debating strangling him. He was hollering some Prince song, Raspberry Beret, at the top of his lungs, and going at least fifteen miles over the speed limit. I'd always been a rule follower, so saying that this irritated me was a serious understatement.

"Could you please shut up?" I said, gritting my teeth. I drummed my fingers on the dashboard. Marilyn Monroe was gorgeous on the outside, but on the inside, it was still very clearly a guy's car. And not necessarily a spotless one at that. There were old cans of Red Bull and Monster and old burger wrappers in the backseat. Homemade CDs were strewn everywhere. Nothing like my tidy old Cadillac that I missed already, even if it had failed miserably.

"Sorry, no can do Miss Runaway," he teased, grinning manically. "Besides, who doesn't like some Prince every once in awhile? I mean, I have other music I can offer, but I'm determined to get you cultured. You've been brainwashed in your mecca of San Francisco, I'm afraid." He shook his head and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. I reached across and flicked him in the head, hard. He frowned theatrically and gasped.

"Oh God, that hurt! I think I might have a compound fracture!" he mocked, unable to stop himself from grinning widely at my attempt to get him to stop talking.

"Shoot me now," I muttered, glancing out the window. The highway scenery was reasonably boring, consisting of dry mountains and brown and green. We were just starting to make our way into the Rockies. And to be honest, I wasn't sure if I trusted Leo's driving.

"What was that, Reina?" he asked, reaching forward to turn up the volume. I slapped his hand away.

"No," I told him firmly.

"No appreciation for music," he told me, rolling his eyes.

"No appreciation for the ears of others," I shot back, sighing. "Can we at least stop and grab something to eat before I starve to death."

"If you insist," he sighed, pulling off the highway at the next exit. I glanced out the window, my eyes peeled for any sort of restaurant that wasn't too expensive. My stomach was growling like a monster had been cooped up inside for a century.

"Ahhhh, Wendy's," Leo grinned suddenly, jerking the car into a parking lot suddenly. So suddenly I doubted he'd turned his blinker on. But this seemed to be a lot like a second Middle-of-Nowhere, so I wasn't too worried about crashing into cars. There was only two of them parked in the lot, and the Wendy's looked like it had probably seen better days.

"Taco Bell is better, but what can you do?" he mused, continuing to talk as if I was actually listening.

"I'm just going to pretend that that's not completely stereotypical," I muttered.

"Don't tell me you're racist now," Leo joked, punching me in the arm. "Besides, if we get the chance, I can show you that Taco has nothing on my home cooking."

"Leo Valdez, resident mechanic, can cook?" I raised a skeptic eyebrow in his direction as we pulled up to the menu.

I opened my mouth to tell him what I wanted, but he held up his hand to silence me before turning to order.

"Hi, welcome to Wendy's. Your order?" a voice spoke through the microphone, sounding anything but happy and chipper. To be truthful, it sounded like the employee wanted to shoot themself instead of take our order.

Leo didn't seem to notice.

"Can I have two double bacon cheeseburgers, a large fry, and two medium chocolate frosties?" he asked loudly.

A sigh came through the mike. "That will be eleven fifty two."

"Gracias, amigo," Leo replied cheerfully, pulling up to the pick-up window. While we waited he leaned back and sorted through some more CDs, clearly in search of something.

"How do you know I like chocolate? I could be allergic, you know," I pointed out sourly. I was a little irritated because not only would I have ordered a chocolate frosty, I would've probably ordered a large.

But I wasn't going to tell him that.

"But you're not allergic," he said, straightening back out with three homemade tracks in his hands. "So there's not a problem. And if you had been, I would've just drank your frosty too."

I glared at him as he shrugged.

"You are one of a kind, Valdez," I sighed, kicking off my sandals and putting my bare feet on the dashboard.

"I know," he looked up and smirked again, his orange-brown eyes alight with mischief. "Now what's it gonna be, Reina? Some oldies? Alternative? Disco? Actually don't answer that. I know what you need."

He tossed two CDs in the back again and dropped the other in his lap as the doors to the pick-up window clicked open. Leo rummaged through his creased, ancient looking wallet for the cash and exchanged it for the large brown bag of greasy fast food. Despite the fact that it came from a building that looked like it hadn't seen good business in the last twenty years, it smelled like heaven.

I could use some heaven in my life, let me tell you. It was more than overdue.

A light, bouncy song came through the speakers, and I recognized it once the voice started singing. Reggae. Bob Marley, to be exact.

"Every little thing, is gonna be alright," Leo sang loudly, swaying from side to side as he parked across three spots. In San Francisco, you probably wouldn't be allowed to get away with doing that, but I doubted anyone else would be coming through anytime soon. He rolled the bag open and handed me a box containing a burger, and set the fries and frosties in the cup holder console.

"Don't worry, about a thing," he continued melodramatically. "Come on, loosen up! Have a good time, that's what reggae is for!" He took a big bite out of his burger but continued to hum.

"No mustard?" I asked incredulously, sorting through the contents of the bag. "What the hell do you expect me to put on my fries? Ketchup?" I wrinkled my nose and shivered in disgust at the thought of ketchup. It was the grossest thing in existence in my opinion.

"No, Miss Runaway. Let me introduce you to the art of French fries and frosty," he announced, snatching the plain fry from my hand and smothering it in chocolate frosty before shoving it into my mouth promptly. At first I gagged a little at something being shoved down my throat. But then the salty sweet mixture hit my tastebuds, and I stopped struggling. Okay, I had to admit, Leo was on to something here. Frosty covered French fries? Definitely one of the best things I'd ever tasted.

"Give me some of that," I demanded, snatching more fries and dunking them in the chocolate shake at my disposal.

"Wow, slow down, Miss Runaway. Don't forget your burger, because I paid for that too," Leo reminded me, grinning. "But see, you should trust me a little more. I mean; I have excellent taste, which you can tell by looking at my car. Have a little more faith."

I rolled out my eyes and stuck out my tongue at him. "Please, Repair Boy. Let me eat. I'm not berating you for the mess back there, so shut up." I nodded towards the stacks of CDS and trash in the backseat. Marilyn Monroe's interior was not as cared for as the exterior, for sure.

"Whatever you say, Reina," he told me, turning his attention to his burger.

I popped another fry in my mouth. "Why were you so eager to get out of that small town of yours, exactly?"

"Well, I haven't seen Percy and Annabeth in ages," he started, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "And you know. The atmosphere is too much in a small town. Always expecting you to do this and be that. They never think that maybe I want more than just to run the family business, you know? It sucks. And you seemed interesting." He shrugged a little. "I don't know, really. All in all it was a gut feeling."

"Good or bad?" I inquired.

"Not bad," he assured me, grinning. "Definitely good. I mean, I can go to sleep at night after this trip is over knowing that I exposed another California girl to the art of the frosty covered French fry. It's going to be quite comforting, I imagine."

I laughed. "I'm sure it's a worthy investment for your conscience."

"Everything will be all right, Reyna Vivaldi," he told me nodding to the last notes of the Bob Marley song. "Trust me."

I watched as he took another huge bite of his burger and proceeded to hum along to the next song on the CD. I smiled, and it felt like it had been forever since I had really smiled, even if it had been only three days.

"I hope so, Valdez," I replied, and promptly dug in to our fast food feast.

So that was sort of a filler chapter, and I apologize. But I'm going to start building their characters up more and exposing them to each other gradually. Obviously, Leo's going to discover why she ran away at some point, and that's going to be very emotional and what not. But for now, that was a cutesy little roadtrip scene, and although it might not have been wholly satisfying, it was an update nonetheless. Thank you so much for reading, and please review, follow, or favorite. Love you all!

Xoxo- NotsoSugarQueen