He raises an eyebrow at her, struggling to make his expression unimpressed. "Are you saying you don't have a plan here, Wise Girl?" Their fingers are still twined together, and he uses that connection to tug her forward, into his lap. For all of the levity in his tone, there's something heavier in his gaze as green eyes track her face, taking in all of the details, the tiny things that make up Annabeth Chase. Even a fall off the top of a giant turtle's head can't make the remnants of their conversation (and everything it had referred to) fade away.