Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. The plotline is my idea though...

Clary only ended up staying with her mother and Luke for three weeks. Three weeks of stolen kisses, whispered promises, and late-night movies on the couch. Hers and Jace's routine had become so mundane that Clary almost forget she was anything but a normal woman—that there weren't monsters lurking in the dark alleys of the city, and the worst she had to fear were a couple of thugs possibly bullying her into giving them her purse. But that would never be the case for her. She was reminded every time Jace answered his cell phone part way through dinner, when he pulled a stele out of his pocket, or when she caught a glimpse of a seraph blade on his belt, tucked away under his jacket. Clary would never forget the blood that ran in her veins—blood strong enough to make the thugs cringe in her presence if she wanted them too.

Still, Clary enjoyed the three weeks she spent away from training, allowing her to relax for a short amount of time. She hadn't realized how tired she was after training intensively for so long. Sleeping in was a treasure, and she took full advantage of it whenever Jace was too busy at the Institute.

This was one of those mornings where she lounged in bed with her sketch pad, doodling freely and without much thought. At one point, she even drew another sketch pad on the last free page of her book. Remembering what she had done two years previously, she pushed her fingers into the willing page and withdrew her hand, a brand new sketch pad coming through the paper.

Clary smiled to herself, proud of the little accomplishment she had just made. It was inexpensive to buy such a thing, but if she was being honest with herself, she liked to be able to do something so out of the ordinary.

There was a soft knocking at the doorframe of her room and Clary looked up. Simon stood in the open space, a small smile on his face, and a parcel tucked under his arm. His shirt looked as if he had picked it up from a pile on the floor without bothering to check if there were any wrinkles. One of his shoes was untied.

"Were you in a hurry to get over here?" Clary was well aware Simon had brought back his new girlfriend from Florida. She hadn't seen much of her best friend since he'd come back to New York.

Simon didn't meet Clary's eyes and shuffled his feet. He was lucky he didn't blush, but Clary could recognize the signs. "She's a little... feisty when I leave. I had to practically run out of the apartment."

"So you still haven't brought her home to your mom."

He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a cough at her comment.

"You're terrible," Clary scolded him. "Does she even know you're a vampire yet?"

"No. I can't figure out how to tell her."

"It's been two years, Simon. She's going to notice eventually. It can't be that bad. I mean, the guys took it pretty well." Clary remembered Simon coming to visit her after he told Eric and the rest of the guys, extremely ecstatic. Their band had been named Night Crawlers for about a week before the vampire angle lost interest and the guys got over Simon being one of the undead.

"Yeah," he said, not committing to anything.

He stayed put in the doorway, still clutching the parcel under his arm.

"What have you got there?" Clary asked, putting aside their conversation about his mother. If he wanted to continue to keep her in the dark, she wasn't going to argue.

Simon walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. He pulled out the parcel and handed it to her. "It's just a small gift I forgot to give you when I got back."

Clary tore into the package, making quick work of the crisp paper. Inside the wrappings, she found a soft, black t-shirt which had the words Bad Ass and Proud written in bright gold letters on the front. She hugged Simon and tugged in on over her camisole. It fit loose, but was more comfortable than any of the clothes Isabelle kept stocked in her closet back at the Institute.

"Jace is either going to hate it or think it's perfect," Clary commented.

Simon chuckled. "He'll love it. You know he gets a kick out of things like that."

"True. So what do we have planned for the afternoon?"

"I was thinking some old cartoons, video games, and comic books. There's a box in the living room that I brought over."

Somewhere between watching Dawn of the Dead and playing Halo, Jace showed up. Clary hadn't noticed him at first, standing in the back corner of the room observing the two of them as Simon decided it was time for him to go back home. She led him out the door and when she turned around, Jace was watching her with an amused expression.

"And when exactly were you going to make yourself known?"

Jace shrugged and moved to stand in front of her. He put a tender hand on her face for a moment. "I was hoping to see your goofy hand shake before I made a sound. Besides, you should have heard me come in."

Clary looked at his arms. His sleeve was pushed up enough for her to make out a Rune on his arm. "How can I hear you come in when you cheat like that?" She pointed at his arm. "And you're quiet enough without any added help."

Again, he shrugged. This time Clary noticed how wet his hair looked in the light of the living room. She reached up a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

"Isn't it a bit cold out to be walking around with wet hair?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied with a sly grin.

"What is it?"

"It's snowing," Jace answered nonchalantly. He kept his hands behind his back.

"What are you hiding?"

"Do you want to know? Or would you rather I showed you?"

Clary sensed he was playing a game with her. "Both."

She regretted her words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Fast as lighting, a large, cold wad of snow broke in the crown of her hair, freezing the skin it melted into. "Jace!" she shrieked.

He was already running out the back door into the yard. His laugher rang out, loud and clear through the open door.

Clary only had a second to pull on her mother's boots over her bare toes and run after him. She looked around carefully, but Jace still managed to throw another snowball at her. The second one landed in the square of her back and she turned around quickly to see him duck behind an overturned table.

Quickly, she bundled up a snowball of her own and held it in one hand. Then she picked up the lid of a garbage can to use as a shield. It went to good use as she made her way over to Jace's hide-out. She managed to block another flying snowball and hurled her own at his blonde hair. He made a disgruntled sound as it hit him in the face.

"Ha!" Clary cried out. "Not so fast there Lightwood!"

She threw the garbage can aside and lunged on top of Jace, still wiping snow out of his eyes. He fell to his back as she landed on top of his chest, keeping him pinned down with her hands and knees. Her breathing was laboured from the cool air, coming out in white puffs, but Clary didn't care. All she could think about was running her hands through Jace's hair and kissing his lips.

As she bent her head down slowly, her hair fell around her shoulders, blocking out everything but Jace's face. A goofy grin stretched across his lips and Clary could see his crooked tooth. His hands came up to her hips, chilled from the snow. His touch sent a wave off gooseflesh up her spine, reminding her of the extreme cold of the winter.

Clary moved her face even closer to his. His scent was all around her, intensified by the melted snow on his face. She realized this was the first time in weeks that they were truly alone together.

Jace must have realized the same thing and reached up to give her a long kiss. He kissed her slowly and deeply, keeping his hands on her hips. When Clary tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away.

"Clary," his voice shook as he spoke. "If you want to continue this, I suggest we take it inside. I won't be of much use if my back is frostbitten."

She hadn't noticed the slight tremor in his body. He was probably just as cold as she was; only her thoughts of the cold had been distracted by his lips. Clary was tempted to kiss him again, disregarding his suggestion. Jace just looked too sexy lying underneath her. When she had tackled him down his shirt had ridden up, exposing his golden stomach, giving her a glimpse of the flat and scarred skin she loved.

"I might take my chances," Clary teased before she stood up.

Jace was at her side moments later and took her hand in his as they walked back into the house. It wasn't until they reached the door that Clary realized why he had taken her hand. Jace pulled her flush against his chest and just as he bent down and kissed her once, a snowball smashed into her hair.

Jace jumped back as she shrieked at the cold of the snow, quickly melting in her hair. He laughed as she danced around the room hopelessly brushing what remaining snow had yet to melt onto the floor.

"JACE!" she yelled, "That was so not funny."

After a long, hot shower, Clary stepped back into her bedroom, wrapped only in a towel. She shut her door and locked it for good measure. Her mother may have been gone for the week, but the simplicity of a locked door made her feel like she was completely secluded from the world.

Jace waited on her bed, lounging on it with her sketchpad. She wouldn't let Jace in the shower with her after his snowball stunt. As much as the possibility of sharing a shower tempted her, Clary was going to make him sit this one out as punishment.

He stared intently at a page, and didn't notice her come in. She sat beside him and looked at the picture. It was the one she was working on earlier in her new sketch book. Clary had the urge to snatch it out of his fingers like she had done so many times before, but the look on his face stopped her. He looked serious, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"You really are talented," he told her quietly.

Clary had thought she was being silent.

"The Clave doesn't know you can pull objects out of paper, do they?"

Clary shook her head. "I'd never tell them that. Who knows what kind of trouble I could get into if they knew?"

Jace nodded. He put the sketch book back on the table and held his arms out to her.

She gladly let him embrace her. Being wrapped up in his arms was the most comfortable and natural thing to her. His scent was stronger, with his damp clothes and Clary loved how it filled the room. The only problem was that he was still trembling from the cold.

"Do you want to take your shirt off? You must be freezing."

"Real men don't get cold," Jace answered.

"You're a real man?" Clary couldn't help but tease.

"Are you trying to bait me into something? I'm not naive."

She let out a snort at his comment. "Far from it."

Jace tapped a finger against her nose. "I think I'm rubbing off on you. It's alluring." He leaned in and kissed her nose this time.

Clary tilted her head up and caught his lips before he could pull back. It felt just as sensual as the kiss outside and as she opened up her mouth to his, she knew she wouldn't be able to slow down from here. Their tongues met and danced in their familiar way.

She moved her hands from her lap to his hair—she always loved to grab hold of his curls. No matter what he did, they were always soft.

Jace must have liked it because he growled in his throat as Clary pulled on it roughly. His hands took a firm grip on her hips, where he liked to hold her most, and squeezed. Next, he moved one of his hands slowly up the towel, still tightly wound around her body. When he got to her bare skin, he traced light patterns on her collarbone.

The slow torture began to be too much for Clary. She groaned as his lips left hers and traveled down to her chin, her neck, her collarbone, and stopped where the towel covered the rest of her over heated skin.

Clary let her hands move down onto his shoulders, dropping them further to feel the strong muscles of his back through his damp sweater. There was still a tremor coming from his body, only she suspected it was no longer because of the cold. Her skin began to feel flushed from the intensity of their closeness and the kisses they shared. She could only assume Jace felt the same.

It seemed likely as Clary moved her hands down to the hem of his shirt and played with the skin just above the his pants. She traced a long scar with her thumb, then with the pads of her fingers before she tugged at his shirt and had him out of it.

Before she could say anything, Jace pulled her towel and had it pooled at her hips. For a fleeting second she had to urge to cross her arms over her chest. Then she saw the look in Jace's eyes and knew that her brief flash of insecurity was pointless. He had seen her like this countless times and there was nothing short of awe in the way her looked at her.

For a while, they sat on her bed openly staring at each other. Clary took in his broad chest and smooth stomach, covered in the scars that were as much a part of his body as they were of his personality. She knew that it was only a matter of time before her body would resemble his in at least a small way. Perhaps she wouldn't catch up to the amount of scars that he now had, but she was already adorned with many of her own.

Much in the same way Clary had felt the scars on Jace, he did the same to her. His fingers lightly traced up and down both arms, then her chest, avoiding the places she wanted him to touch most, and stopped at her flat stomach. His fingers spread out over her pale skin and stayed there a moment longer.

He kissed her again, only it was sweet and unrushed. His lips were both soft and firm against hers, and when she ran her tongue over his bottom lip, he opened to her. They continued to kiss, only their faces touching, the rest of their bodies stilled on the bed.

Clary thought she was going to burst from anticipation when Jace put a hand on her waist and quickly snaked it up to one of her breasts. Her nipple was already painfully hard as he twisted it between his thumb and finger, and she let out a loud moan when he moved onto the other nipple.

She raked her nails over his chest and abdomen, feeling the muscles in his stomach constrict from her motions. Clary could also feel the laboured rise and fall of his chest as they both struggled for breath.

A fine sheen of sweat covered both their bodies by the time Jace had repositioned them to lying on her bed. Clary helped him take off his pants then his shiny black boxers, happy to be rid of them. She should have been surprised at how fully erect he already was, but she knew from experience that it didn't take much to get Jace in the mood.

She spread her legs, making room for Jace to fit between them. Clary was becoming uncomfortable with an ache that only he was able to satisfy.

He teased, running his fingers lightly over her still unblemished thighs. She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Jace," she could only whisper, her voice was failing as he kissed the base of her throat.

"Mmh...?" Jace responded.

"Don't make me beg," she finally got the words out of her mouth.

Jace pulled his face away from her body and looked down at her. "But I like it. I love it when you moan my name."

Clary swatted his chest in faked annoyance. "Cocky bastard."

He winked and kissed her softly. "Only for you."

Clary moved a hand to the small of his back and helped guide him into her. She could feel the large size of him filling her up, happy with how perfect they always fit together.

Jace began a slow, almost lazy rocking within her. It allowed him to kiss her again. He bit down on her lower lip, pulling it with his teeth before letting it go and moving his mouth to her temple.

Clary moved one leg up and over his hip, needing a different angle. She wanted Jace in as far as possible, and hooked her other leg up, connecting her feet at her ankles. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she used her strength to pull her hips up to meet his slow thrusts. She sped her pace, forcing Jace to catch up.

"Impatient?" Jace panted out.

Clary couldn't answer. Her chest was already struggling to bring in enough oxygen for her lungs and her core burned, aching for a release.

But she didn't want to let go so fast, so she let her legs drop back down onto the mattress. She kept her knees bent, thrusting her hips up to continue to match Jace.

He didn't object to her slight change in position and grabbed the skin just below her breasts. For once, he didn't hold her in a tight grasp; instead he seemed to be massaging the skin with his calloused hands.

Clary didn't think it was possible, but her nipples felt even harder than before. She grabbed a fist full of her own hair with each hand before moving her fingers to capture her nipples. It helped, as she fondled herself.

Again, Jace kissed her on the mouth. Clary moved her hands from herself to his back, quickly moving them to his buttocks and squeezing. He moaned into her mouth and arched his back. His slight change in position drove Clary right over the edge and her release came at a surprise to her. Taking over all her senses, she rode it out, only half aware of Jace joining her in ecstasy.

She felt a bit of his release dripping down her thigh as Jace pulled out and rolled beside her. There wasn't much room on the bed for the two of them, so Clary ended up lying half on top of him as they caught their breaths.

"I had this idea," Clary ventured after a long while. She kept her face down, unable to look him in the eye.


She couldn't help the flush that stained her cheeks and chest.

"Clary, you're blushing and you haven't even told me anything."

Shaking her head, she replied, "Never mind. It was stupid."

Jace put a hand on her chin and turned her face to his. "Please?" His eyes shimmered in a way only Jace knew how to do. Clary compared it to looking into the face of an irresistible puppy. She really was putty in his hands.

Letting out a long sigh, she gave him her idea. "I was walking by this retro store yesterday and I just had this idea for us. It's . . . well, you see... I thought we could play a fun sort of game. Role play," she breathed out the last word, looking up at the ceiling. There was no way she wanted to see Jace's face as he considered what she said.

"Shall I call myself Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein? I think it's quite catchy."

Clary glanced at his face. It was straight. "I think you've exhausted that name."

"What? I haven't even been able to use it. I keep getting turned down." Jace faked a hurt look.

"There's a reason," Clary quipped back, smiling.

Jace sat up and got off the bed. She watched as he pulled on his black boxers and his sweater.

"Are you seriously insulted? I thought your ego could handle worse."

"Not that my body isn't something to gawk at, but we need to start packing up your things."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

Jace tilted his head to the side, considering her question. "Didn't I mention it?"

"Mention what?" Clary ventured.

Smiling, Jace took a step towards the bed and leaned into her. "Maryse said you could come back. Your training schedule should begin today."

"Really?" Clary couldn't keep the reservation from her voice. She had mixed emotions about getting back into training. Even though she had talked to Jace on numerous accounts about her doubts as a Shadowhunter, he always assured her that being kidnapped happened to the best of them. Not that he ever brought up being kidnapped himself. Clary figured it was a wound he was never going to fully heal from, and left him to deal with it in his own way. If he wanted to talk about it, she would wait.

"You're not excited," he said as a statement.

Clary let out a long sigh. "I'm just nervous."

"About what?"

"Getting my ass kicked, I suppose."

"You're a fire cracker. There is no way you would get your ass kicked. Besides, it's only been a few weeks, not months or years. You're in perfect shape. I think in the last half hour you made that pretty clear. "

"You're right," Clary sighed, too tired to feel embarrassed.

"Aren't I always?"

Clary couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps, but don't let that idea get to your pretty head."

"Too late!" Jace closed the small space between them and rolled back onto Clary, covering her body with his. He kept himself propped up by his arms so he could look down on her. "But I think we do have a little more time before the others start wondering why it's taken me so long to come and collect you."

"Okay," Clary agreed. "But you're going to have to take off that sweater again. And those boxers." She snuck her hands under the hem of his shirt, lifting the material up and over his shoulders. When he was bare-chested she wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him down onto her. As he kissed her, she knew they'd never make it anywhere near on time. The others were just going to have to wait.