Nebula Oneshots

O1. - Nice to Meet You, Mr. Brown.

In which Dale and Charlie met on the first day of Camp Jupiter.

pairing: Dale Alcander and Charlie Bowman
warning/s: n/a as far as I know.
word count: 1.6k

—•—

               The familiar scent of the water hit Dale like a tidal wave (ha, ha).

               She used to come out to the beach with Tessa whenever they needed to talk, or if they just wanted to spend time together. But that was usually with Mark, and sometimes a select few other people, so that ended as soon as he was gone. Nevertheless, Dale needed this time alone. She needed a somewhat familiar place to clear her head. And although the Little Tiber was barely an ocean, it was the closest thing she had to home. The familiarity of the gentle waves nearly splashing her feet (though Dale made sure to stay a distance away from it), the warm breeze that settled inside the camp, the rustling of moving campers behind her. All of it was almost like Camp Half Blood, and she would've enjoyed it if her best friend were here.

               Dale let out a long sigh. Mark, she thought to herself. You idiot. Why did you have to get yourself killed?

               But as she thought that, her doubt grew even more. The idea of Mark's death was so foreign to her, it was like it never even happened. She might not have watched him escape the cave before, but she didn't see him die, either. The police had cleared the destruction. Surely they would've found his body if he really was dead.

               So, with just that thought alone, her hope grew. Although she knew it would diminish as soon as she found out the truth.

               The rustling of footsteps grew louder, as if somebody was walking towards her. When she turned around, a boy with dark brown hair and piercing eyes faced her.

               Her instinct was to grab her lipstick tube immediately, attacking as soon as she could to escape from being cornered. But as soon as she locked gazes with soft, green eyes, she knew there was no reason for any attack.

               He gave Dale a light smile, his head tilted slightly to the side. He's cute, Dale thought, before mentally slapping herself. Was this really a time for those thoughts?

               "Are you lost, or did you intend to stay at the one place that could strip you from your powers?" The boy asked, a questioning glance in his eyes. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smirk, as if he thought he was funny. Dale scoffed at that.

               "I was just looking for my friend," she said airily, her statement not a complete lie. "He went to the bathroom, but I think he got lost."

               The taller boy smirked again, as if he knew something she didn't. She didn't like that. Or him, for that matter.

               "I'm sure your friend is evolved enough to not pee in a river, so why are you out here?"

               "Who are you?" Dale asked, completely avoiding his question.

               "Charlie," he responded just as quickly as she had.

               "Charlie ... Brown?"

               "Ha, ha," The boy—Charlie—said, not looking amused at all. "You're very funny."

               "I know," Dale heaved a dramatic sigh, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "It's quite tragic, really. It's a curse."

               His eyebrows shot up at that, his own grin coming back. "And how is that?"