Title: Esprit d'Escalier
By: KayCelestine
Genre: General/ Slight Romance (I guess if you squint.)
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,073
Summary: A short little fic about how Sally always managed to catch Poseidon off guard, told from Poseidon's POV. Slight AU

.x Esprit d'Escalier x.

If there was one thing that he loved about her, it was how she always knew exactly what to say. There was no hesitation, stumbling, nor stuttering; simply a fluid response, as natural as life itself. It was the first thing that attracted him to her; the first thing he noticed. He never regarded it as a talent, but instead a gift from the gods. Her wit was something that was to be feared, and at the same time, it was something utterly lovely to behold.

He wouldn't argue when people scoffed and turned their noses at it; it was natural he supposed. One of his most loyal servants had once said to him that her sarcasm was nothing to admire. He had argued that it just showed how bitter and ill-educated she was. Of course he had just laughed, much to his servant's chagrin. He was a bit disappointed that his servant had said that though, after all, he was Poseidon, the notoriously rebellious god.

He didn't go for the flashy girls, or the ones that seemed to be on top of the world. That was Zeus' preference, the "it" girls. His, on the other hand, were much more down to earth... some even rebellious like himself. He was no Ares, but every once in a while he did like to dabble in danger. Throughout history his women often had a temper to rival his, and the attitude to match... but she was different.

At first glance she looked timid; the look of a small town girl lost in the big city. He wouldn't lie, the thought of causing a little trouble by teasing her was very appealing. He had watched her from the corner of his eye for quite some time, the debate of whether or not he should leave her alone raging in his mind. He felt guilty knowing how much he could potentially scare her, but the idea of her blushing and stuttering eventually won the battle in his head.

He debated calling her over, all the while thinking of what he should say to her. Pick up lines seemed a bit too cheesy, and insults were not his style. He wasn't going to flash her a smile, or flash her money, for that matter. After that, what was there left to do? Nothing, he decided. So he simple sat there at his table, discreetly observing her from the corner of his eye.

He turned his head from her at some point, and began to stare out the window and onto the beach. It was a vain thing, but he loved to watch the ocean. Its strong, majestic beauty reminded him once more how grateful he was that he had picked the straw he had. He couldn't imagine ruling over anything else.

It was then that she had made her way over to him. She spoke softly, clearly embarrassed that she had to interrupt him, but in a way, it was her job. 'Would you like something else? Something to drink perhaps,' she had asked. His mind, ever mischievous, decided then would be the perfect time to strike. He didn't remember what he said, but he never forget what she said. It was so stark and unexpected that it had rendered him speechless. It wasn't terribly in-your-face, or even remotely; it had simply caught him off guard. But that's what piqued his interest and eventually made him fall for her.

Countless times after they had begun dating, she had done the same thing -- rendering him speechless. It always embarrassed him a bit; the way he never bit back, how he always knew just what to say, after the moment had passed. He would have been on his way home, and after thoroughly realizing what she had said, he would then say the perfect thing. Except it was to himself, and she was miles away. He cursed, vowing each time that that time would be the last. But it never was. Eventually, he had gotten used to it; but it still bit some times.

Just a bit.

He watched as she drifted to him, her soft brown hair flowing in the wind. Her eyes still held their vigor, and her cheeks still flushed their light rose buds. So many years had passed and she still had the same regal beauty and youth to her. He wouldn't lie; she could make any immortal jealous. But the one thing he knew was that as she had retained so many things from her youth, she still had her dagger of a tongue.

But this time it was different; this wasn't 24 years ago when they had first begun dating. This was the present where he knew exactly what she was going to say and how she was going to say. Countless shocks had eventually left him immune. He smirked softly to himself, knowing that as the gods bear him witness, he was going to catch her off guard.

That's it. It short I know, and it ends on a hanging note. I didn't mean for that to happen, it's just that I honestly didn't know how to continue. Also, something about how it ended just felt right. It's probably boring, I think, but just let me know and from there I'll just edit and revise.

Esprit d'Escalier is a French expression meaning "staircase wit". It's used to describe when you come up with the perfect comeback to anything (insults, jabs, etc) after leaving the scene. So that's how it plays into the whole Sally/Poseidon thing.

But anyway, R&R, s'il vous plait! ^_^