I don't own anything…

"Isabelle, where's Jace?" One simple question bubbled from Clary's lips when she arrived at the house where the Lightwoods were staying. Isabelle's shocked look was a little insulting.

"I thought you weren't coming anymore? I-" Isabelle stuttered even as Clary stepped through the threshold into the foyer. She held up one hand to silence any other questions.

"Whatever you're going to ask, it can wait. Now tell me, because I'm really not in a patient mood. Where the hell is Jace?" Clary's voice was savage and contained no trace of understanding.

Isabelle, in disbelief, silently motioned up the stairs to a door on the left. Clary marched up the stairs, her anger growing with every step she took, betrayal festering in her chest. They hadn't gotten along very well lately, this was true, but she never thought that Jace would do something like this.

No, now she was just pissed off.

One, two, three short, curt knocks on the ornate oak door. Some flapping and fluttering behind the door; the lock turned, and she heard a giggle.

Jace answered the door, shirtless, face a little flushed, hair tousled, face irritated. "Isabelle, I thought I told you not to-" As his eyes swung to meet Clary's, Jace trailed off.

Clary smile savagely, wiggled her fingers in a careless wave, then pulled back and swung her fist at Jace's face with every ounce of remaining strength she possessed. She connected, and the crunch echoed all through the hall. He cried out, whether in pain or shock, she didn't know, but Jace grabbed the place where the bridge of his nose met his eye and looked up at her in disbelief as blood trickled down over his lips.

"You hit me." Jace was incredulous. "You actually hit me." Clary looked past him into the bedroom and saw a topless girl to match; she was striking, at least half Asian, lending to her straight, dark hair, curved cheekbones and dark brown eyes. Jace was still bent over, attempting to stop the bleeding from his nose when Clary kneed him in the stomach, a loud "oof!" expelling from his lungs.

"I hope you rot in whatever hell a demon manages to send you to." Clary's voice shot venom at Jace. Then, all of a sudden, she was gone. Turned on her heel and strode purposefully back down the steps from whence she came.

Once outside the door, she motioned to Luke to follow her.

"Clary, what did you do?" Luke sounded appalled; he had just noticed the swollen and rapidly bruised knuckles.

"I knocked my brother's lights out. Stick around, cuz I might just do it again." Clary retorted. Luke was still following two steps behind her, his mouth agape, sputtering about two wrongs or something, but Clary couldn't really bring herself to care. Smiling inside, she walked with a little more pep in her step. She felt much better now.

Clearly, she needed to hit Jace much more often.

Thoughts? I was inspired when I was reading City of Glass, because I sometimes (embarrassingly enough) act out the scene in my head, and I realized that I would have done this, not the shy little Clary thing. Nope, not me. Hehehe…

Obviously, it's really short. Maybe a two shot? What do you think about that?