Wanted (A Percy Jackson/Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. crossover)

Leo

Leo grabbed the rag- once white but now stained black with grease and dirt- off the workbench behind him, wiping it once over his brow to mop up the sweat that had formed there. He cursed when he realized it had only made a bigger mess, staining his skin with inky oil. That sure wouldn't help his current acne problem. The demigod sighed, frowning at his distorted reflection in the chrome plate of the engine he had been slaving over for the past few days.

It'd only exploded twice so far. In theory, the next test had about a 30% chance of not blowing up in his face.

Literally.

Forgetting his messy face, he scrambled across the bunker towards a spare worktable, filing through spare sheets of metal and plywood to find the small black screwdriver hiding underneath. He grinned, twisting it in his fingers. "Just where I left it," he murmured to himself, praising his organization skills, before slinking back over to his project.

(A/N haha I guess you could call Festus Leo's... pet project ;P)

He began humming to the tune of a song he had heard blasting from the volleyball courts in passing an hour prior as he continued his work. His hands moved smoothly; it was second nature to him. Everything was going well until the door of Bunker 9 slammed open, plowing through the pile of scraps Leo had created.

He pursed his lips at the loud ringing of metal hitting the floor.

"Sorry," a timid voice called out. Leo shrugged without turning around, narrowing his eyes at his work as he wedged the screwdriver through a small crack in an attempt to break a segment free. "Don't worry about it," he said passively, "I was a bit too generous with the grease on the hinges, anyhow."

The force of the screwdriver caused a small section of metal to fly across the room. It clanked noisily against the wall.

He grinned in triumph. He wiped his hands down the front of his jeans, smearing them with grease but caring very little- it wasn't like they weren't stained already. He turned to face his visitor, who happened to be a camper who he was pretty sure was named Natalia.

Although, her name could also be Amy... or Jaime? Felicia?

"Are you here to witness one of the greatest inventions of all times?" he bolstered, rounding the table with the intent to delay trying to use her name at all costs.

The short blonde blinked in confusion. The new camper wasn't quite yet used to Valdez's antics. "Um, no," she stuttered. "Chiron said he wanted to talk to you."

Leo frowned. That was never good. The last time Chiron wanted to talk to him ended with an hour-long lecture on why he shouldn't try to see how large the bonfire could get at night. As though he didn't realize that screaming campers and scorched benches were not necessarily ideal.

Then again, he had done it twice and was planning on trying for a third... that was the saying though, right? Third times a charm?

The curly haired Latino suddenly realized he hadn't ever answered the girl standing in front of him.

"Lo siento... Do you know why? Where am I supposed to go?"

She shifted her weight between her feet awkwardly, seeming antsy. "The Big House, I think. And he didn't really say...um, I'm gonna be late for climbing wall-"

Natalia/Amy/Jaime/ Maybe Felicia gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and skirted out before Leo had a chance to respond, leaving him alone with his work in progress. He slumped his shoulders forward, muttering to himself as he prepared to leave. Was it a coincidence that big house was slang for prison?