Summary: She gives him that sideways smile and this time, not even he can pretend that he doesn’t know what’s coming around.

Author’s Note: Okay, so this is remaining a possible WIP. I really like how this turned out and it fits into what I already have down for Deus Ex so I figured “Hey, why not?”. So this is the prologue. As for how DE is chugging along, I’m currently in the stages of planning and have run into a plot snag on the menchanics of locking Runes. It’s going to take *cue scary music* research. It’s the prologue but it takes place during the story, if that makes any sense. Updates will come at the pace of molasses in January due to HS entrance exams and Confirmation stuff. But they will come. I hope.

Also: If you guys reading this story haven't already, pleasepleaseplease go check out the MI fanfiction awards forum. We need noms. And a few more judges, I believe.

“Push it, baby, push it baby, out of control, this is the same old dance that you already know.”-“Starstrukk”: 3OH!3

She gripes the arms of the chair and inhales deeply. It’s been a long time since she’s done something like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen, this…thing that she and Alec have. She’d say it was Dad’s fault but that would be denying the small part of her that has been sitting in her head all these years, the part of her that’s been making her stomach clench every time he tells her “Good Night”, the part of her that told her to kiss him and the part of her that had no regrets about what she did, what she was going to do.

Isabelle can twist and wriggle all she’d like, but she can’t turn him away, can’t turn herself away. Her heart thuds in her chest and she prays to God that she remembered to lock the door, on the off chance that Robert returns home early, because she leans forward and his hands are on her waist and her fingers are in his hair and oh god oh god oh god this can’t end well. It’s never ended well the other times, what’s so special about now?

It’s been building up for years, she tells herself- to stop the painful cling of guilt in her chest. She saw this coming. They both saw it coming. She remembers Alec and Jace and the way she loved them, sometimes more intensely than others. It’s a good memory, she recalls, though is hurts a bit, like soap in the corner of her eye.

But she’s here and he’s there and she might as well just go with it because there’s blood rushing in her ears and his skin is cool against her lips and there’s something in his eyes, something untouched and feral and she’s pretty sure that the expression is mirrored in her own. She hopes, she prays, she wishes.

He tastes like mint, probably from that gum he’s always chewing and he smells like notebook pages and familiarity. His hands are up her skirt and his fingers touch in places they apparently aren’t supposed to and there’s something welling up inside her chest. It feels a little bit like lust and a little bit like pain and a little bit like doubt but she’s ignores it because it’s been there for a while now and what’s the hope of trying to get rid of something you brought upon yourself?

The ticking of the grandfather clock chimes in her ear and in the back of her mind; she wonders what her mother would think of them now.