A/N: This story is the sequel to Indulge which is a sequel to Need. So…the one shot has turned into a three shot. Which now, has turned into a four shot bit. Part four to come very soon! As this is a chronicle of sequential stories rather than a chaptered fic, adding me to your author updates is the easiest way to make sure you don't miss out on part four.

Twinkle twinkle little star, who has the world's bestest beta by far? I do. MarcyJ is awesome and extremely modest. I mentioned the modesty, right?

As always, I don't own these characters, though I still wish I did.

Tease

Consciousness came to Clary slowly, creeping across her sweet dream like a leaf across a still lake, leaving ripples and blurring the images she so desperately longed to cling to. It had been the most vivid of her dreams yet, so wonderfully real. She replayed it over and over in her sleep fogged mind, hoping to permanently burn it there. The smell of his skin—dampened with sweat—as he moved against her. The taste of his lips, so forceful in the beginning and so gentle at the end. The sensation of his fingertips as they ghosted across her body.

She sighed as she remembered the dream. Trails of fire seemed to flair, around the curve of her shoulder and down her arm. It was a delicious reminder of how real that dream had felt, and she squeezed her eyes shut grasping blindly for more sleep to come. His fingertips traveled across the back of her hand, barely touching and still the most potent sensation she'd felt in all her life. Sparks of pleasure reverberated up her arm as he lingered so carefully on the backs of her still fingers. She could feel those fingertips in every pulse point of her body; hot and electric.

It occurred to her suddenly that she was having coherent and purposeful thoughts. I should not be able to feel that, she thought. She took in a deep breath, and the fingers left her hand. When she let it out slowly, she felt the bed shift slightly under her. Without opening her eyes, she took in what she could of the situation. Something was off. This didn't smell like her room, it was too heady,too musky...sweet.

Jace. She thought. This pillow smells like Jace.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the warm fingertip—which she was sure now had really just been on the back of her hand—drew a line along the edge of her bottom lip. She was definitely not alone. Her eyes begged to be opened, flicking in their attempts to blink. No, it'll go away.

Her breathing started to pick up, and then stopped altogether when she felt a blast of hot breath wash over her ear.

Oh, please! She begged, Please.

"Clary." The voice whispered.

She sighed, Yes. She felt the corner of her mouth turn up in half a grin. Not a dream.

His finger left her lip, she felt him shift beside her again, and then his finger was replaced with his warm lips. One soft kiss on the side of her mouth that wasn't currently amused, and her crooked smile evened out.

"Clary." He mumbled again against her mouth. She responded this time, catching his top lip between hers. The kiss was lazy and drawn out, but was quickly gaining the heat that was present last night. She opened her eyes long before he pulled away. His were open as well, staring back, watching her as he pressed his tongue to hers over and over. The eye contact heightened the experience; green and gold. It was like she could read his thoughts, and share hers with him just the same. She could see in his eyes what he liked and what he loved. For instance, when she used her tongue to outline his bottom lip his eyes widened just a fraction...liked; but when she pulled that bottom lip into her mouth and used her teeth on it very gently his eyes fluttered shut for a fraction of a second, almost against his will, before he opened them again...loved.

Before long Jace's hands were around her and he was rolling onto his back, pulling her with him. The skin on skin contact was beyond words, and she never wanted it to end...because, What if it never happened again?

It was that thought that pulled her back into herself. She pulled back a fraction and, breathing heavily, looked down at him. His eyes searched her face for just a second before he leaned his head up and pressed his lips under her chin, and down.

She struggled to find her voice. "J—Jace."

"Hmm?" He didn't stop his exploration of her neck and collarbone. His arms wound tighter around her and he pulled her close so he could reach her ear. He kissed just under it, and she lost ability to think for a moment.

"Jace, we have to—" He took her lips once more, winding his fingers in her hair.

"We have to what, Clary?" he asked, allowing hardly enough room between their mouths for his lips to move.

"We need to..." She trailed off again as his hand left her hair and traveled slowly down her back. He chuckled when she shivered against him.

One more kiss, "Need to what?"

"S—stop...touching. Stop touching me." She shook her head out and rolled off him, putting several inches between them. She lay on her back, breathing deep in attempt to clear her head.

When she looked over at him he had propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting in his palm. He raised his eyebrows, a cocky questioning expression.

"What happened?"

His expression changed immediately from questioning to disbelieving. "You don't remember?"

Clary rolled her eyes and then closed them. His swollen lips were distracting her, she was having a hard time thinking of much else.

"That, is not what I'm talking about. I meant what changed?"

"For me?" She nodded. "I quit caring." She heard him say simply.

"About what exactly?"

"Jesus, Clary...everything!" She could hear the emotion creeping into his voice, but she didn't open her eyes to see if it was in his face yet. "Everything. What others think is right and wrong...everything, except what matters."

That caught her attention. "What matters?"

He was quiet for a long moment. She stayed on her back, eyes closed, fingers toying with the edge of the quilt. She felt him lean toward her, and even after everything that had already happened, she couldn't hold in the quiet gasp when his kiss touched her cheek. Then his lips were at her ear, "That." He whispered, breath warm and moist, "is what matters."

He kissed his way back up to her mouth. "This," he captured her lips briefly, "matters." His hand flattened on her stomach, "You feel that?" he whispered inches from her face.

She nodded.

"That tight...spark? Heavy? Demanding?"

She nodded again, and swallowed around a tight lump.

"THAT...matters."

She opened her eyes then, but said nothing. She could tell he was still organizing his thoughts, that he wasn't done. He laid back down, head on the arm that wasn't still draped over her middle. "I can't anymore, Clary."

"Can't?" The thick emotion that distorted his voice made it difficult to discern the meaning in his words.

"Can't not love you. I tried. I tried really, really hard. It's too much."

She was quiet, attempting feebly to wrap her brain around his words. She failed. Words failed.

"Say something!" He demanded.

"I—I, I'm," she stumbled. "I don't know what to say."

He started to take his hand from her, but she was quick to stop it; she held his fingers to her stomach. She reached below the blanket and grabbed his hand, bringing it up and placing it high on her chest over her pounding heart.

"You feel that?" She asked quietly.

It was his turn to nod, unsure where she was going with this.

"I gave up a long time ago, Jace. A long time ago."

"You did?"

"Yeah." She stated simply, "I did."

"So, we give up then." He laughed once at the absurdity of the situation.

"Clearly."

That cocky half smile crossed his mouth again, "Let's get back to it then." He said as he pulled her to him once more.

"Jace!" She hit him and gave a half-hearted attempt to pull away. She was content to let herself be kissed for a moment.

A loud pounding on the door caused them to pull apart abruptly, very nearly sending Clary flying over the edge of the bed. Both sets of eyes trained on the door as whomever it was knocked once more.

"Jace?" Alec's voice carried into the room with perfect clarity and Clary wondered how long he'd been there...if he'd heard any of their conversation.

"I—" His voice broke and he cleared his throat, "I'll be right there, hold on."

Clary looked at him with panic in her eyes. He pointed toward his bathroom, "Bathroom." He mouthed. She stood silently, wrapped herself in the sheet and tip-toed as fast as she could to the bathroom. Once she'd pulled the door closed silently behind her she let herself release the lungful of air she'd been holding in since the knock.

She locked the door and then walked over and sat on the closed toilet. She could mostly hear the conversation taking place at Jace's door.

"No, I'm sure I left it in here."

"Dude, your weapon isn't here. Go check the weapons room, or Izzy's room...she's always taking my crap."

"Can't I just check, Jace...what's the big deal?"

Clary hoped that Jace had had enough sense to hide her clothes, because Alec wasn't going to give up until he'd had a chance to look for himself.

"Fine," There was a pause. "See?"

Their voices were clear now that they were both inside the room.

"Yeah, you didn't see it in your bathroom did you?"

"NO!" Jace shouted.

There was a moment of silence before Alec responded to Jace's over-reaction. "You're....sure?"

"Yeah, man you do NOT want to go in there...I got sick last night and it isn't pretty."

Clary scoffed as quietly as she could.

"Dude." Alec's voice held a mild hint of disgust, but thankfully, no suspicion.

"Yeah."

"Well, whatever...If you, you know, see it anywhere just let me know."

"No problem."

"Thanks. Oh, hey...if you see Clary will you let her know that Luke was looking for her?"

"Um, yeah. Sure." Jace nearly choked. Great, Clary thought. Very eloquent, Jace.

Clary heard Alec leave, and then Jace's bedroom door clicking shut and being locked. She didn't move.

There was a gentle tap on the door. "Clary?" Jace questioned.

"It isn't pretty, huh?"

"It was either that or 'you can't look in the bathroom because that's where Clary is hiding.'"

She stood and went to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. He stood there on the other side, leaning against the frame; looking like some rock God with his sleep-messed blonde hair and nothing but jeans slung low on his hips.

None of this seemed real; regardless of the fact she knew she wasn't dreaming. She'd resigned herself that she wouldn't ever have this; waking up next to him...seeing him allow himself to look at her the way he was looking at her now. Like he was hungry and she was exactly what he'd been craving. Like he couldn't believe this was happening either. Like he finally had what he'd needed for so long.

"So," She started, "I guess we agree that this is something that we need to keep quiet."

He shrugged. "I panicked...I told you, I don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Well I—I think it's probably best...I mean for now, if we at least give ourselves enough time to get it figured out for us before bringing anyone else's opinion into the equation."

He nodded, "Take as long as you need."

She looked down at her hands, where her fingers picked at her short fingernails. "I mean, I just need to figure out how I feel about this before I start to worry about what anyone else thinks."

He pushed the door open and pulled her out, still wrapped in the sheet. "Clary." He spoke into her ear once she was in his arms. "As long as I get this, I honestly do not care about anything else. The rest is details. Unimportant."

She nodded against him.

Giving into this was going to be hard, perhaps even more difficult than trying to ignore it. But from where she stood in that moment, it didn't matter. He was right. When you held something as perfect as they did right then it was difficult to focus on anything else. The details. The consequences.

It started much sooner than either of them had anticipated. Clary had thought it wouldn't be that hard to keep their physical relationship from the people they spent their time around. She was wrong. There was one main reason for this: she'd underestimated how difficult it would be to actually keep her hands off Jace now that she knew how willing he was to have them there.

That first morning, Clary had to actually get up and move to the opposite end of the table. Jace had been driving her crazy with his hand—which everyone else assumed was simply resting in his lap under the table—tracing slow patterns along her thigh. When she used her hand to hold his down, he started sliding it inwards. She emptied her nearly full glass in thirty seconds so she'd have an excuse to get up. After she refilled it she sat down where he couldn't reach her.

When it wasn't his hands gently teasing her, it was his knowing eyes. It had only been two days, but she learned quickly that he had the ability to catch her gaze and hold her there forever, if he wanted to. With just a look he could remind her of that night, of all the stolen touches from the last 48 hours, of the possibility of more. She had started actively avoiding his eyes when they were around other people, because while she could get up and move away from his hands, she lacked the ability to break the hold his eyes had once he caught her with them.

To pass time until they left for Idris, Clary had been spending a great deal of time in the library at the Institute. She'd been reading about old spells and any number of other things that could prove to be helpful with her mother.

She sat at one of the few round tables. The room that had once been Hodge's study was small, but still housed a wide variety of books on an impressive shelving system. Her nose had been stuffed in a book and her headphones had been blaring one of her favorite songs in her ears, so she hadn't heard him enter or approach. His cool fingers on her shoulders startled her enough to make her jump. She whirled around, and sighed when she saw who it was.

She'd been expecting him to find her, had been looking forward to it actually, not that she'd ever let him know that.

"Jace," She feigned surprise, something she was finally getting good at. "Hi, what do you need?"

He looked up over her head at one of the visiting Shadowhunters that had shown up to investigate Valentine returning books and shuffling papers. When his eyes flicked back to hers, they were filled with arrogance and desire...a troublesome combination for Jace.

"I needed to do some research." Clary watched a slow smirk spread across his face.

She raised an eyebrow. "Research? Really? Well by all means, don't let me keep you from it." She gestured to the rows of shelves behind her and then turned back to her book; counting down from three slowly in her head.

"I can't, I need help finding a book." He said.

"That guy looks helpful," she whispered and pointed to the grumpy looking Nephilim. She smirked at Jace. The man looked many things, but helpful was not one of them.

She felt his hand brushing her hair to the side and he slip his fingertips along her shoulder, dipping briefly under the back of the neckline. He lingered on the bare skin of the back of her neck.

"He looks busy, I don't want to disturb him...can't you help me?" His hand slid slowly around to the front of her throat, gliding just under her jaw line. The man turned suddenly with an armful of books and strode off past them. Jace ripped his hand from her as soon as he'd begun to turn and took a deliberate step backwards.

They both waited quietly for him to pass. As soon as he was out of sight Jace leaned around her, much closer than he had been before. "You're good at finding things, Clary. Won't you help me?" he whispered in her ear.

She drew in a staggered breath.

He touched his lips to her ear then and she couldn't stop the shiver that traveled down her back. The heat coming off of him was thick with his smell; it was filling her senses and she was quickly losing the ability to think. She started to turn her head, but he was gone. When she opened her eyes and saw the grumpy man striding purposefully back into that part of the library she knew why.

"So?"

She looked back over her shoulder at Jace, and he appeared perfectly composed. She, on the other hand, could feel the heat from the flush in her cheeks; it burned like a red flag to anyone observant enough to notice it.

"Will you help me find a book, Clary?"

She simply nodded and stood. She started off in the general direction of the back of the library, assuming he was following.

She walked past the stacks of books waiting to be re-shelved and past the many shelves that were angled toward the front of the library. She slowly made her way back, until there wasn't anywhere else to go. She stopped and turned to find him waiting a few steps away. He visibly swallowed, and licked his lips.

"What kind of book did you need, Jace?"

"Um," He smiled then and it touched his eyes. "Self help."

She nodded and turned to the shelf that was behind her; feigning interest. "What exactly is the area that you need help in?"

He was behind her then, directly behind her. She felt every line of his body hot against hers. He brushed her hair out of his way again, and she felt his lips on the back of her throat.

"I thought you needed help?" she barely managed the words.

"I do."

He moved his lips then, slowly up and around to the sensitive spot just behind her ear.

"Um, I...can't help...why?" She mumbled incoherently before reaching out and pulling a random book from the shelf. She held it over her shoulder. "Here." She whimpered.

His hand traveled slowly up her waist and along her arm until he could close his hands around the book. He took her earlobe between his teeth for a brief moment before saying, "Thanks." He let the book fall to the floor and returned his hand to her waist, running it around to her stomach so he could pull her against him.

Clary felt Jace's desire for her then, pressed against her backside. She let her head fall forward against the bookshelf. Her breathing was beginning to match his, coming in quick erratic gasps. Knowing the way he responded to her and the way she knew her body would always respond for him filled a spot in her that she hadn't known to be empty.

"Turn around," he breathed. She wasn't sure if she could. "Clary, enough playing. Turn around." He said between kisses he was placing on her cheek. Slowly, she lifted her head and turned it enough to capture his mouth. He moaned into her as soon as she'd made the contact and used his hands to turn the rest of her body to face him.

He kissed her in earnest then, and her knees immediately threatened to give out on her. She reached out for something to hold onto. Her grasping hands knocked several books off the shelves in her attempts to stay standing. They tumbled to the floor with more noise than she would have thought possible.

Finally, she realized the safest thing to hold on to was right in front of her. She grasped at him, and an embarrassing sound very similar to a squeak left her.

"You guys alright back here, do you need some help?" The voice carried over the stacks. Jace jumped back from her and to the side, pretending to be interested in a random book as Clary fell to her knees on the floor. She couldn't hold herself up without Jace's help, so she busied her hands with the books she'd knocked over just as the man came around the corner.

"Nope, no problem." Jace said without looking away from the book he now held open to a random page in his hands.

The man paused at the end of the isle, taking in the pair of them. Then he frowned, turned on his heels, and left.

Clary started giggling as soon as he was out of sight, but Jace didn't really see the humor in the situation. He groaned and fell in a heap to sit on the floor next to her.

The days that followed were filled with moments like that; Jace had put everything he had into avoiding time alone with Clary, and now they couldn't seem to find two seconds. Rather than quenching the desire, the stolen glances and hidden touches only fanned the flames. Clary crawled into bed each night, her head swimming with memories of his lips and hands...of never ever getting enough before they were abruptly cut off by one interruption or another.

She groaned and let her head fall back onto the pillow, pulling her quilt up over her face. "What is wrong with me?" She asked herself right out loud, and then she giggled and remembered something he'd said earlier that afternoon.

It had been well over 24 hours since she'd had the chance to taste him, which in her opinion was far too long. They sat around Luke's small kitchen table at his house, finalizing plans to leave for Idris in two days. He kept throwing her glances and when he was sure no one was looking he'd touch her casually on her neck or leg, sending her mind whirling and her setting her cheeks aflame. Eventually Luke noticed.

"Clary," he questioned, "are you okay? You look a little flushed."

She glared at Jace who threw on a concerned look as well, "Yeah, you're all red. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She ground out. "I'm fine."

The conversation continued as did the teasing. Eventually she'd gotten tired of it and started fighting back. She pulled her foot out of her shoe and ran her toe up his leg under the table. His attention snapped up to her immediately. She simply smiled and turned her attention back to Luke who had been speaking. When she got to his knee she worked her way inward. She could see the internal battle he was fighting, could feel the tension in his legs against her foot.

He swallowed hard, and attempted to clear his throat.

"Are you okay, Jace?" She questioned innocently when Luke had finished explaining something. "What's wrong with you?" She threw his previous words back at him as she let just the tips of her toes brush him.

He jerked his chair backwards hard, sliding himself several inches away from the table. "I'm fine, I just need a drink." He stood abruptly and went to the sink, taking his time filling a glass with water. Clary put her shoe back on and stood up.

"Are we all done here then, Luke?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess we are." He looked a little confused.

"Great. I'm going to go get some more things packed. See you later, Jace." Clary said as she headed out of the small kitchen and down the hall. She hadn't made it very far before she was shoved from behind rather hard into the coat closet.

Her breath caught in her throat and she made to scream, but the warm hand over her mouth kept her from it. Her breath came heavy through her nose as her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden dark. Warm breath caressed her ear and she calmed down enough then to realize who was holding her. His smell filled her senses and the heat from his body blanketed her back.

"Shhh." He whispered against her neck as he pushed her hair over her shoulder. She reached up and pushed the coats as far to one side of the closet as she could and spun in his arms. The darkness and smallness of the closet was disorienting.

"Why are we in a closet?" She asked a little breathlessly as he continued to give her neck careful attention.

"Because I needed to do this." He said, and he kissed her soft lips briefly. "And this." His mouth moved along her jaw, back to her ear.

"In a closet?" She clutched him to her.

He put as many inches between them as he could, which wasn't many. "Would you rather I did it in the kitchen?" He motioned with his head, "Becasuse we can..." He trailed off as he let go of her and reached behind him.

"No!" She stage whispered, "No. Closet's fine." She grabbed his face and turned it back to face hers.

Even in the dim light that was seeping through the crack under the door she saw the smirk form on his face as his eyes danced with whatever sarcastic remark was about to leave his lips. "Good. I wasn't sure how I would feel if you were asking me to come out of the closet with you."

She raised her eyebrows at that, "You're the one that pushed me in here...I'm not sure how I feel about you pushing me INTO the closet with you." Her hands fell from him.

He took a deliberate step forward, pushing her against the back wall, her attention snapped to him and her hands flattened on the wall as she attempted to catch herself. His nose drew a line from her collar bone, up her throat, over her jaw to her ear once again. He inhaled deeply and let it out long and slow.

"No?" He breathed. "Maybe I can help you figure out how you feel about it." His fingers combed through her hair on the opposite side of her head and he claimed her lips then. His kiss was slow and languid. It made her knees go weak and she grabbed onto his shoulders in attempt to hold herself up.

It took her a minute after he'd turned his attention to the sensitive skin in the hollow at the base of her throat to regain her voice. "Jace." She managed. "Luke."

"I said, Shh." He said before moving up to take her earlobe between his teeth lightly. That forced a small whimper from her and she felt him grin against her jaw before he did it again. She'd had enough teasing, again, and pulled his mouth back to hers.

She was overwhelmed with sensation. His fingers were too hot on the skin of her stomach under her shirt, his scent was too potent clouding her head, his lips too insistent against hers, and the little sound he made in the back of his throat when she ran her fingernails lightly down the smooth skin of his back was too much for her ears to handle. Her eyes had long since fallen closed, and she squeezed them tighter when his hands settled on her hips and he used the leverage to press himself tighter against her.

"Clary?" Luke's voice carried through the closet door without a trace of distortion. They froze, eyes wide at the thought of getting caught. "Clary, was this something that you—" They heard him walk past the door towards her room she assumed. "You're not in here." He went from one sentence right into the next without a break.

She shoved him down to the closed floor, pushing on his shoulders. He crouched on the floor and scooted back into the corner under the cover of the coats.

"Clary?" He tried again. "Jace?" Luke questioned louder.

Clary smoothed her shirt and hair before opening the closet door. Luke was standing just to the left of it. He turned abruptly when she opened it.

"What in God's name are you doing in the closet?"

She attempted a small smile as she shut the door behind her. "I was looking for my coat, what else would I be doing in a coat closet?" She tried to put an edge in her voice that questioned his sanity for asking such a ridiculous question.

"With the door closed? Wasn't it dark?"

"Um, yeah. I couldn't find the one I was looking for...I was looking in the back and the door shut on me." She turned and made to head for her room.

"Where is the coat?"

She stopped. "I didn't find it." She shrugged and started off again.

"Oh." He seemed perplexed but not suspicious. He held a bracelet out to her, "I just wanted to see if this was something that you wanted to pack? And also, did you see Jace leave?"

She stopped once more and reached back taking the bracelet from his outstretched hand. "Um, yeah, thanks. And yep. He left."

Luke rolled his eyes and started for the kitchen again. "Figures, he was supposed to take some stuff back for me."

Clary tried to hold in her amusement when she slowly cracked the closet door open and found him still on the floor of the closet. She attempted to hold in the remark, but she was unsuccessful—he deserved it anyhow after his comment earlier. "You ready to come out of the closet, Jace?" She whispered.

He stood, glaring at her the whole way. "You're gonna pay for that, Fray." He said as he passed her and headed quietly and quickly for the front door.

"Am I?" She countered as she followed him out the door, closing it behind her. They stood on the stoop outside Luke's house now. He stopped and turned to press his lips to hers one last time, just long enough for her to start to respond, before pulling away and jumping down the steps.

"Yep." He threw over his shoulder. He was out of sight before she'd had a chance to recover.

Clary rolled over in her bed, banishing the memory from her head. She wasn't helping the situation at all by lingering on things like that. A soft buzzing on her nightstand pulled her from her tortured thoughts. She looked over at her vibrating cell phone, grabbed it and looked at the caller ID. It was Jace. How ironic, she rolled her eyes as she flipped it open.

"Yes?"

"Clary?"

"Who else is going to answer my cell phone at 2 am, Jace?"

"Oh, right."

"What?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"No." She whispered into the receiver.

"Me either."

"Clearly." She was getting annoyed now.

"I was thinking."

"About?"

"That rune."

She sighed, not in the mood for guessing games. "Get to the point, Jace. Or I'm hanging up."

"I am! I was thinking about that rune that you created."

"Which one?"

"That day—" He paused, "in the training room, you know?"

She swallowed. "Mmhmm."

"I think we should figure out exactly what that rune did—does." He paused again and when she said nothing, continued, "It might prove helpful, you know?"

She nodded, her head full of the memories of that evening, and then realized that he couldn't see her. "Yeah, sure."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Of course. When?"

"Tomorrow?"

"I guess it would have to be wouldn't it." She mused, remembering they were leaving the following morning.

"I'll see you in the morning then?" He asked, his voice softer now...lacking the tension it held before.

"Yeah."

"Clary?"

"Yeah?"

"Sleep well." He said.

She smiled then, "You too." She whispered and closed the phone, laying back against her pillow and clutching her phone to her chest. She knew that it was probably a bad idea to experiment with new runes. She knew deep down that particular rune had the potential to create some...complications for them. But at the moment, she didn't really care.