'Of Stupidity and a Curious Demigod'

— murasaki no chou

Summary: Percy Jackson was a curious child; he wanted to learn anything he comes across with. Needless to say, this was one of the days where his inquisitive side would surface.

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and I never will.

Percy Jackson was a curious child. He wanted to learn anything he comes across with: be it other people's problems, a way to save an important person to him and, surprisingly, things that didn't really matter. He blamed ADHD for this, but what did that particular disorder have to do with his curiosity? He was in denial most of the time, and it annoyed him whenever someone he consults would say, 'You just like prying into others' businesses.'

Needless to say, this was one of the days where his inquisitive side would surface. Percy always had this sort of "tingle" whenever he thought of Hermes, the God of Thieves and Messengers. He wasn't entirely sure when it all began, perhaps a little while after their encounter, but one thing was for sure: Percy wanted his questions answered. He sought for elucidation because gods know what would happen if he didn't. Endless query might drive him insane, and he clearly didn't want that to happen.

Percy thought that by taking a stroll to Camp Half-Blood's very own beach would clear up his mind but, rather unfortunately for him, even the sound of the sea washing against the shore didn't keep his mind astray from a certain God. And Heavens, no, he wasn't infatuated with Hermes like a lovesick fool. He would either have the head of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, for altering with his sexual orientation, or he'd pretty much drown himself in his father's territory, which was quite absurd considering that it was near impossible.

Still, it would seem that by wandering around the beauteous shore only reminded him of the salt-and-pepper haired god. This was where they first met, after all, so Percy found it hard to forget. Encounters with the Olympians were memorable—if meeting Athena, Hades, Ares and several others that were not too fond of him were included—and Percy was glad to have done so. The son of Poseidon would have been even happier if not his agitating troubles and perturbed mind.

Annabeth Chase, his wonderful girl friend, had already given him advice earlier that day, but it still didn't help Percy. All Annabeth had told him was, 'Try not to reckon too much and, eventually, you'd forget. That's all there is to it, Seaweed Brain.' Percy had noticed that it was rather odd that Annabeth wouldn't look at him straight in the eyes as she said so. There had been a strange flicker of emotions that danced in her stormy grey eyes; Percy just couldn't put a finger on what it was.

Running a shaky hand through his messy black hair, Percy sighed in an attempt to calm his fretting mind. The sooner he consulted Hermes, the better it would be for his aching brain. Percy wasn't sure, on how long he would be able to keep his sanity. He knew he was being stupid, getting worked up on an idiotic question that just so happened to cross his mind, but he couldn't help it; he was either born with it, or he picked it up somewhere in his childhood. Percy didn't want to choose the first one for fear he might be labelled as crazy. Oh gods, this particular dilemma was screwing him—this couldn't be good.

Stopping on his tracks, Percy had failed to realise how long he had been deep in thought. The sun was already setting, sparkling the crystal clear water and land below it with its orange rays. The sky above him was slowly beginning to darken as the sun faded from view and the moon appearing on its stead with Lady Artemis taking Lord Apollo's place. The wind was getting cold, but Percy didn't mind; in fact, he almost didn't feel the slight drop in temperature. He wasn't normally a nature lover or an environmentalist but, somehow, being in its presence was comforting. And, maybe, he could start forgetting about what had been occupying his mind for the past few days...

Suddenly, Percy heard a twig snap not far from behind him. Alarmed, he took out the pen from the pocket of his trousers and uncapped it, revealing Anaklusmos in its full glory. The sword shimmered with what was left of the sun's wondrous light, and Percy pointed its blade point to the direction where the sound came from. Camp Half-Blood had been attacked numerous times before, so it was okay to be precautious for his safety. He couldn't risk himself being wounded after a monster lung at him; Percy didn't want to get hurt and experience more pain. He had faced a lot of enemies, had almost been acquainted with death and loss of blood, before—that was enough to last him for a lifetime.

A shadowy figure swiftly sprinted to Percy's direction as though attacking him. With his fast reflexes, Percy raised Anaklusmos in the air and was about to strike the intruder down when he noticed something vaguely familiar about him or her that halted him halfway. Anaklusmos' blade point was aimed at the stranger's delicate neck that made them freeze on their ground. Percy saw him—he was convinced that the intruder was a male from his build—and nearly dropped his treasured sword to the soft sand underneath him in shock.

There stood Hermes, wearing the same clothing he had when they first met: nylon running shorts and a New York City Marathon T-shirt. The God of Messengers had an evident look of bewilderment plastered on his face as he stared at the sharp blade close to his throat. Hermes gulped, completely caught off-guard by the warm "welcome" of Perseus Jackson. He wasn't really expecting something like this to happen, then again, he should have had been more careful as not to scare the young demigod to prevent something like this from occurring.

Hermes forced a smile, chuckling nervously as he instructed Percy to put Anaklusmos away. That blade was dangerous enough as it was, and together with the son of the God of the Sea, Hermes didn't think what the outcome would be if young Percy Jackson had sliced him there and then when he wasn't completely ready. I'd bleed, of course, Hermes thought, inwardly wincing when he visualised himself getting diced; then heal and have to deliver more packages.

'Um... I'm sorry about that,' Percy apologised, blushing in humiliation as he silently cursed himself for showing disrespect to a god. He could've hurt him, and that alone might start a war—Percy didn't want that as much as he didn't want to be in front of him now due to this circumstance. Percy was tempted to hit his head on the tree bark, but thought better of it as it would only put him to more shame. He flashed Hermes a timid smile, 'So... Uh... What are you doing here?'

Hermes examined the young demigod in front of him with criticising eyes before giving him a bright smile; Percy had grown quite a lot from the last time he was him. He was more muscular, which Hermes deduced was because of all the training he was undergoing in camp, and had developed sharper features. He looked different from the confused, little child, he once saw roaming the seashore full of doubt and indecision. Hermes felt proud even though he wasn't his father. 'I came to give you a package from your father,' he said, prompting George and Martha, his caduceus phone, to take on their original form as Martha belched a rectangular package. Hermes handed it over to Percy, a smile on his face.

Percy took it awkwardly, mumbling an uncertain "thanks" in return. He laid the package down on the sand carefully, noting how heavy it was for such a small thing. 'So...?' Percy knew this was his only chance—he had been waiting, and perhaps searching, for the God of Thieves to have a certain question answered. Oh, but he also knew that he would mess up in the end; he always did—Percy tsked at that.

'Yes, Percy?' Hermes asked, encouraging him with a nod. He was about to leave when he felt Percy shifting his weight restlessly, his sea-green eyes pleading him to wait for a moment. Of course, Hermes was interested as to what the young man before him had to say. He was confident that Percy wasn't anxious because of his presence, rather by what was bugging him.

Percy inhaled deeply to clear his mind and let out a shaky breath he had been holding. Now was his chance. 'Lord Hermes, I've been wondering...' he paused, unsure on whether or not he should continue his question. However, seeing Hermes indicate him to go on, Percy obliged. 'I—I've been wondering, since you're the God of Messengers and all that, if you're Santa Claus.'

Hermes didn't know if he should either laugh at the stupidity of the question or cry in frustration at the obvious insult Percy had just asked, so he only stared blankly at him. Hermes, apparently, wasn't expecting that.

A/N: Yes, yes; I know it's pretty... moronic, but this idea just came to mind. My friend and I were talking, and joking, about the Olympians, and since curiosity (Or was it the sudden idea that popped out of nowhere?) got the best of me, I asked, 'Do you think Hermes is befitting to be Santa Claus?'

Thank you for reading my first PJO fan fiction. Please review. ConCrits are welcome. :)