Clary had never known she could be in so much shit. Deep, deep shit. She stood frozen on the dance floor, oblivious to the jostling bodies. Her mouth opened and closed, like a gasping fish, forming perfect 'O's, but her voice was lodged in her throat. The murderous, challenging stare coming from her dance partner didn't mollify her mortification.

When she finally found her voice, she placed her hands flat out against his chest and pushed, hard, yelling, "Get away from me, you bastard!" Turning on her heel, Clary sped toward the door, which suddenly seemed like a million miles away. Added with her six-inch high heels, it didn't help.

Jace's hand closed down on her arm like a vice, holding her while she kicked and screamed, punched and clawed. Nothing happened as Jace looked down at her with bemusement.

"Going somewhere, precious?" He taunted in her ear, and nipped it slightly – something she would have thought was extremely sexy if only they were dancing on the dance floor.

For the second time that night, Clary kneed another guy between his pants. The confident, arrogant smirk died off Jace's face in a second, morphing into a mask of rage and pain as he clamped down on his bottom lip to refrain from screaming.

Clary: one. Jace: zip zero.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Clary sprinted away once more, with Jace yelling insults at her retreating back.

"God," she heard one guy say to his friend as they sipped beer. "Tonight must be the Penis Night. Everyone's getting bombed down there."

"Better protect yourself then," his friend replied, sticking a hand in front of his pants, like an armor.

Jesus, Clary thought, shaking her head as she pushed by them. Boys these days.

She had just made it out into the living room of the Institute when a hand slithered around her waist, locking her to him again. She tried her best to kick him downstairs once more, but he shifted. He had learned his lesson well.

"You will tell me what the hell is wrong with you before you leave this room!" Jace thundered, throwing her on the couch and strapping her there with black ropes. He tied her ankles together, and her hands behind her back.

Clary choked back tears, tipping her head back to spit in his face. It caught him in surprise, and his mouth opened, allowing the spit to land perfectly into his mouth. He gagged.

"What the hell, Clary? That is so gross!"

"Yeah?" She countered, narrowing her green eyes. "Well, you didn't seem to mind last time we shared spit. Or the last time you shared spit with some other blonde!"

Jace wiped his mouth on his sleeve, a very manly move. "What is this other woman you've always been talking about?"

"Don't play me, Jace Wayland," Clary glared at him. "Untie me and I'll show you."

He untied her hands, but left her feet together and her body still tied to the couch.

Clary dug the phone out of her pocket and flipped to the picture Aline had sent her. She shoved it viciously under his nose. "Explain this!"

Jace's eyes widened until they looked like they were going to pop out of her head. "I've never seen this in my life," he muttered as he scrutinized it. After a tense silence, he burst out laughing. The laughter bounced off the ceiling and echoed through the room.

Clary felt her cheeks turning red as Jace continued laughing, sinking to his knees, clutching his stomach. He laughed so hard tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes.

"This got you all riled up?" He grinned.

"Tell me what's so funny, damn you!"

"This picture," Jace said, coming over to sit next to her strapped body. "This picture is of me. That's true. However, I have never seen any girl with hair that ridiculous in my life. It looks like a freaking afro, and worse, it's on a blonde. This hand here is definitely not her hand."

Clary peered at the hand on Jace's leg. It was hairy and chubby. A male's hand. How had she not noticed it before? "Oh, my God…"

Jace grinned. "It's called Photoshop, Clary." He stood up, towering over her, smiling uncontrollably. "I can't believe you fell for that."

She lunged for him, angry and relieved at the same time. She was so glad Jace wasn't cheating on her. The ropes pulled her back, knocking her to the couch. "Now that we know what's happened," Clary said, "can you untie me so we can make up?"

"Nope," Jace said, popping the "p". "This leaves you to my mercy." He grinned darkly.

He leaned over her, reaching out a hand to tickle her, when the doors of the living room flew open. Isabelle stood at the doorway in a loose, hot pink robe. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were sleepy, but she was giggling like a drunkard. She didn't seem to notice Jace and Clary, frozen in their positions, staring at Isabelle.

Isabelle swayed through the door, into the room, staring over her shoulder at something beyond the room.

A few seconds later, Simon came barging into the room, without a shirt, his eyes bright and his hair tangled. Isabelle shrieked with delight and spun around, ready to sprint.

Her mouth fell to the ground, and a hand flew up to cover the gaping jaw. Her eyes bugged, the sleepy mist suddenly washed away. Simon skidded to a stop behind her, looking just as horrified.

"Clary….Jace…" She stuttered, eyes wide.

"Hi Isabelle," Clary croaked.

"I have been blinded for life," Jace groaned. "Izzy and Simon?"

Sheepishly, Simon fumbled for something to cover his naked upper body, his face bright red. He found nothing.

"You have sex hair, Izzy," Clary deadpanned.

"And you," Isabelle pointed at Jace, murderously, "are raping Clary."

"Look at her," Simon said, relieved for the spotlight to shine away from him. "She's strapped to the couch, and you're towering over her." It was true. Jace hadn't moved and was still looming ominously over Clary.

"You have some explaining to do," Isabelle demanded, crossing her arms over her hot pink bathrobe.

"Oh Izzy," Clary said breezily. "It was only a photoshopped picture."

"And you fell for that?"

"You did too!"

Isabelle opened her mouth to retaliate, but they all froze as something creaked and footsteps echoed throughout the house. A minute later, a horrified Alec stood staring at them, looking ready to throw up.

"A FOURSOME?" He screamed, tripping backwards and falling on his butt. "I AM SO TELLING MOM AND DAD THIS TIME!"

THE END. Poor Alec, he always finds them at very awkward situations. :)

Thank you for reading and reviewing for this short fic!

Check out my new one called The Truth About Forever. It's written in a different style than this one, and it's about Jace and Clary as they reincarnate through different periods of time.

Review…pretty please…with a cherry on top?