Hello pretties! So this started as a non fanfic idea, then turned into an AU Malec. Don't you just hate it when that happens? Well, I've never done an AU before, and until recently I didn't even like them. However, I like what I've got so far and I hope you all do too. There should be PLENTY of recognizable names, and I tried to keep most of the relationships similar, but you will notice some slight differences. Bare with me. It had to make sense within the story. It's rated T for language and likely steamy situations in the future. The story will be entirely from Magnus's point of view, I think. At least for now. I'll let you know if that changes though.

Please review and let me know if you want me to keep going. Encouraging words give me motivation.

Also, if there are any errors let me know so I can fix them.


Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the Mortal Instruments characters, or any of the movies I mention in italics. Don't sue me!

Wednesday Sept 20 Chapter 1: How to Make the First Move

Yesterday I met the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Or at the very least a few hot nights and lazy mornings...

I was sitting in my usual place in class, towards to back, close to the door. Usually I make it a habit to sit in the front of classes, in an attempt to make the teachers like me as much as possible (I may need their references later..) or so that I could pay my utmost attention and not be tempted to take out my phone and play on it for the duration, but this particular class was an intro level: anthropology 101, and the teacher was particularly dry and dull. Besides, I knew the subject well enough that I probably could've taught the class myself.

Anthropology was a side passion of mine. One of those things I found incredibly interesting, but not enough so to devote endless years of my life to in order to get a PhD and work in a museum until I was as ancient as the artifacts I looked after.

No, that is not a life for Magnus Bane.

My future requires more excitement; more thrill. So here I am, a second year art student majoring in photography and minoring in journalism with the hopes and prayers that one day I'll get to travel the world and become a famous photojournalist.

That's the plan at least.

So anyway, back to when I met him.

I was just settling into my seat, my notebook open in front of me in the off chance that Dr. Stevens actually said something of importance, my pen resting on top of it, my orange and yellow metal water bottle sitting on the edge of my desk, and my phone casually resting on the open pages of my notebook. I was flipping through the app store, attempting to find something worth my time in the free game section when I heard his voice.

It was melodic and strong, though I detected a slight nervous edge to it, as if he was unused to speaking in front of so many people (though, being an evening class, there were only about 60 people enrolled, half of which had bothered to show up).

"Good evening everyone. My name is Alec and I am Dr. Stevens' TA. I usually help out with his larger classes, but he's sick tonight so I'm filling in." There was a noticeable groan from many of my classmates, wishing the teacher had just cancelled class so they could have the evening free to do other things. I didn't really mind for two reasons: 1. This TA was incredibly gorgeous, like stare-opened-mouthed-and-speechless gorgeous, and 2. I had nothing better to do on a Wednesday night than stare at him and waste time in this classroom. I was caught up on all of my homework and had morning classes starting at 8am (scheduled by the devil himself) the next day. Not a great night to go out drinking or partying.

"I know, I know, I'm sure everyone would rather just have class cancelled than be stuck with the boring TA for two and a half hours watching some obscure ethnography that half of you probably don't care about because you're not even anthropology majors. Well, I'm going to give everyone a choice: option one is that you stay in class, watch some clips from my favorite sci-fi movies, discussing what Hollywood got right and what it got wrong, and earn a little bit of extra credit, option two is that you can leave right now. It won't count against you, but Stevens doesn't often offer extra credit, so if you think you'll need the help, you might want to suffer through. If not, have a good night." He spoke as if he'd practiced this speech in front of a mirror before coming in. His uneasiness at being authoritative was, I have to admit, extremely cute.

I was surprised at his deal, and the fact that over half of the class got up and left. They were already here, why give up the free extra credit? I really didn't predict needing it, especially after receiving a 100% on my first exam, but I definitely wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, especially since it meant I got to spend the next two and a half hours staring at the sexy black haired, blue eyed TA.

"Well, that was to be expected." He laughed, almost as if talking to himself. God it was a beautiful sound. Like an angel. He opened his shoulder bag and pulled out a laptop and a black spiral notebook. He ripped a page out of the notebook and wrote something at the top of it, then looked back at the class. "Now that there are so many more empty seats, everyone should move up a bit closer so I don't have to feel like I'm yelling."

I looked down at my perfectly arranged desk, and sighed, taking about two seconds to make my choice between sitting behind everyone else or up in one of the newly emptied seats at the front of the class so I could get a better view of Mr. Blue Eyes.

It was not a difficult decision.

I was the only person to choose a front seat. The third and fourth rows filled up and a few people moved to the second.

Well, I feel like a prat. I thought, though I didn't regret my choice. From here I could really take in the view. Alec was tall, though probably a few inches shorter than me, with short black hair that fell messily into his eyes every time he looked down at his computer screen. His skin was pale and I could see the outline of a muscular (and begging to be touched) chest underneath his black t-shirt. He had a slender frame, but was chiseled nonetheless. He biceps were deliciously well defined and his hands looked strong and soft; long, delicate fingers fiddled with some cables, trying to hook it up so that we could watch the aforementioned sci-fi flicks. My heart literally skipped a beat when I saw him bite his lower lip in concentration.

He was too sexy for his own good. Or mine.

"There we go." He mumbled to himself in triumph as a DVD title screen popped up on the projector screen. He looked back at the class and laughed again. "I don't bite." He said, referencing the fact that there was an almost entirely empty row of seats between him and the students. He handed the piece of paper he'd ripped out of his notebook earlier to me saying, "since you're so brave you can start this off," then louder he added "everyone make sure your name is on the role, otherwise I won't be able to give you the extra credit points."

Was it just me or did I notice those pale cheeks turn decidedly pinker when our fingers brushed as he handed it over?

I scrawled my name as neatly and beautifully as I could then passed it behind me. I got a whiff of his cologne when he'd handed it to me. God he smelled delicious! Like he'd just stepped out of a steamy shower.

My mind had immediately started to wander into a naughty realm thinking about our sexy TA in the shower when the lights turned off and someone sat down next to me.

Oh God. He was sitting next to me. So close! I could smell his amazing scent and our arms were nearly touching because of how close the desks were arranged. My heart started to beat faster and I was suddenly acutely aware of every move he made.

What the hell Magnus?! I mentally scolded myself. You don't get butterflies over people, people get butterflies over you. This was the first time I had been so affected by another human's presence since I'd first hit puberty and discovered that my friend Camille had developed these things called boobs while she was away at summer camp. That had been a fleeting affair lasting three weeks, involving many "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" scenarios and my discovery that "mine" was a lot more interesting than "yours", if you catch my drift. Camille was pretty offended at first, until she realized that my opinion was the minority and there were plenty of boys in our class that would be more than willing to carry around her books and give her their desserts in exchange for a quick fondle behind the bleachers.

"Ok, so I want everyone to pay attention to how anthropology and/or its sub-fields are described and used. After about twenty minutes I'm going to stop the film and we'll spend some time talking about it, then move on to the next one. I'll start with everyone's favorite archaeologist and adventurer." Alec clicked a few buttons on his laptop and our movie began. It was Raiders of the Lost Ark. That happened to be one of my favorite movies growing up. So much adventure and witty dialogue.

We watched about five minutes of a scene then switched to another, basically condensing a 115 minute masterpiece into a 20 minute montage.

When it was over Alec got up from his seat, clicked on the light, and leaned up against the front of the desk.

Right in front of me.

I gazed into those baby blues, trying to look like an attentive student and not love-struck puppy. (Not sure if I succeeded or not, because he held my stare for a moment then looked away quickly, clearing his throat, and I noticed that telltale flush was back).

"So, anyone in here not familiar with this movie before tonight?" He asked the class. Everyone shook their head so he continued, "ok, well in the past four weeks what have you learned in this class that either agrees with or contradicts something in that cinematic masterpiece?"

He thinks it's a masterpiece too. We have something in common. I smiled inwardly.

A few students raised their hands and blathered on about tomb raiding and cataloging. He asked everyone's names, trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable, like we were all a bunch of friends sitting around chatting anthropology. You know, the usual.

After a few minutes he turned the lights back out and sat back down, starting a new movie. The Mummy. Once we'd seen all the parts he found most relevant, he repeated the drill from before. This time asking for different people to talk.

A girl in the fourth row raised her hand and he called on her. "My name is Jenna." Jenna spoke with a lot of um's, well's and like's, making me want to stab her with my glittery blue pen, but I refrained. Settling instead for rolling my eyes at her assertion that "um well it's just like totally unrealistic the way that they just like dig stuff up and move it without recording it or anything. Don't real archaeologists have to like do those grid things and make maps and well all that stuff?"

Alec massaged his temples and took a deep breath. "Would anyone like to comment on that before I answer her question?" He looked straight at me. He'd caught me rolling my eyes. "How about you," he looked at the role, "Magnus is it?"

Mmmmm the way my name sounded on his lips... I could get used to hearing that.

I snapped out of my little fantasy and shrugged; here it was, my chance to impress him with my vast intellect.

"I think she's wrong about the movie."

"And why is that?" He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging me.

"Because she's not taking the time frame or location into consideration. Systematic archaeological digs with grids didn't become widespread until the time of the Great Depression when the New Deal archaeology took hold in America. Even afterwards, it took a while before the Brits caught on. There were a few Englishmen who tried to emphasize cataloging and the like, such as Sir Flinders Petrie, but that was just starting to come into play during the very late 1800's, thus most of the techniques we observed, crude as they may seem, would not have been that far from reality."

He looked impressed. Good.

"Magnus is correct. You all will learn a lot more about New Deal archaeology if you end up going on to take archaeology 103, which is a requirement if you're majoring in anthropology. Now, are there any other comments before we move on?" No hands rose up, so we moved on.

The next film he'd picked was Stargate, another of my guilty pleasures, though the series was much better than the film in my opinion. Looks like we have the same taste in movies, that's promising. I still couldn't stop thinking about how all I wanted to do was throw him on the desk and have my wicked way with him; it was a really good thing this was an extra credit class and I didn't need to be learning anything. I'm pretty sure my mind was becoming increasingly incapable of thinking of anything but risqué scenarios between myself and Mr. Blue Eyes as the evening progressed.

I must've made an impression on him though because at the end of Stargate, and the next two films, he called on me to speak, (breaking his own rule of having a different person pipe up each time might I add). When he looked at me to ask me about something it was as if we were the only two people in the room. I wished we were.

At the end of our Q & A for the fifth film, Avatar, Alec thanked everybody for staying and participating and said they could go, even though there was still about thirty minutes left of our allotted class time.

I gathered up my things, sad to have to leave the presence of the gorgeous creature standing behind the desk, packing his laptop away.

Magnus Bane! You are a sexy devil and never one to be shy around guy, especially one who looks younger, and shorter, than you. The worst he can say is no, and if so, so what. You'll probably never see him again after Stevens gets better so man up and go get that boy's phone number! I scolded myself mentally as I slowly finished putting my things in my bag. It was just me and him in the room now, me standing there like an idiot and him making sure he hadn't forgotten to turn anything off.

Ok, it's now or never.

"Hey Alec," I started, giving him a smile that could melt the glaciers (or so I've been told). Alec turned around quickly, apparently just now aware that there was someone else still in the room with him.

There was that blush. A little deeper this time.

"Magnus, what can I help you with?"

I could tell he was still trying to sound teacher-ish. It was adorable.

"I was wondering if you were free to hang out sometime outside of class." I walked closer to him and leaned against the desk in front of him. He looked, was that nervous or something else? I couldn't tell.

"You don't seem like you need any outside help with this class." He laughed slightly, smiling warmly up at me. "Hell you probably would've done a better job than me up here tonight."

"I doubt that," I flattered, "I thought the class was really interesting. Much better than the last four have been. No offense to your boss." I added hastily; the last thing I needed was a teacher with a grudge.

"Ha, none taken. His classes can really be a drag sometimes. Especially if the information isn't something new, which I'm guessing it's not to you. Are you majoring in anthropology?" He had slyly changed the subject without answering my question, but that was ok. I'd let it slide for a few minutes, as long as I got my answer in the end.

"No. I'm a photography major with a journalism minor. Anthropology is just a hobby. And it was an elective option for my minor, so I figured 'hey, why not'."

"Easy A huh?"

God that smile was beautiful. Those lips looked so pink and soft...

"Yeah I guess. So what about you? Obviously you're pretty into this."

"That's one way to put it. I've wanted to be an anthropologist since I was 12. A linguistic anthropologist to be precise. I'm in my third year here, working on my double major in anthro and French."

"Oh parlez-vous le français?" I asked, trying my best to make my four week old knowledge of the French language sound sexy.

Alec raised an eyebrow and replied. "Oui, je parle un peu le français. Où avez-vous appris à le parler?"

Hmm... perhaps I should have thought that one through a bit more.

"Eh, je m'appelle Magnus, je suis de New York." I said with mock confidence. We both laughed when I'd finished reciting my name and where I was from. I was pretty positive that's not what he's asked, but it was just about all I knew how to say, unless he asked me to conjugate the verb to be.

"101?" He asked, smiling that warm smile at me again. We were standing very close now. When did that happen?

"Yeah," I replied sheepishly. He seemed to be going for this cute, slightly embarrassed thing so I figured I'd play it up a bit. Why not?

"Maybe you should wait a little while before you start trying to strike up anymore conversations in French," he joked. It didn't sound at all mean or condescending coming from him, as it probably would have coming from anyone else.


I was staring into those gorgeous blue depths when the magical moment was interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet and unzipping backpacks. Alec looked down at his watch and made a face. "Whoops, its ten to seven, we should get out of here, unless you want to stay for..." he looked around at the filling classroom and stopped a girl who was walking past. "Which class is this?" He asked. She looked at him like he was an idiot, which I suppose was valid since we just looked like two students standing in the middle of an unknown class. "Sexuality is power: the female struggle for power through the ages."

"Uh yeah, not staying for that. Come on." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along out of the classroom, not letting go until we were halfway down the hall.

"That girl looked like she wanted to punch you when you said that." Alec laughed as we walked along together, putting his hands in the pockets of his faded dark blue jeans.

"She probably just wanted to punch me for being male." Alec laughed again then stopped abruptly and put on a more serious face.

It was so adorable.

"That's not very nice." He chastised. How p.c. of him.

"Doesn't make it any less true." I nudged his shoulder with mine. That got a smile back on those lips. And on mine; touching him felt electric, even though the layers of our clothing.

We walked slowly down the bright hallway, standing comfortably close together, like old friends, even though we'd only just met. The hall was quiet except for the slight echo of our feet meeting with the off-white linoleum; my bright green converse padding rhythmically with his faded black combat boots. We exited through the large double doors, the cool October air hitting us with a blast. Alec hugged his arms around himself tightly, his this cotton t-shirt not providing much resistance to the chill. I wished I had brought a jacket I could offer him. I usually ran hot, thus my jackets usually didn't get pulled out of their place in the back of my closet until mid-December, unless it was strictly a fashion choice. I was in a t-shirt as well, though mine was V-necked and deep emerald to bring out my eyes.

"I'm parked right over there," he said, pointing at a building a block from where we were standing, and in the opposite direction of where I was parked. "I should, eh, get going, I have a stack of papers to grade, this extra credit to input, and a medical anthropology paper due at 4pm tomorrow." He ran a hand through his hair, giving it a sexy tousled look that I imagined was similar to how he looked waking up in the morning.

"Geez that sucks. Well, it was great talking with you." I wanted to hug him, but he didn't seem the type to be cool with that after only having known me for three hours so I settled for a handshake.

"Yeah you too. Good luck with your French," he winked at me then turned away quickly, though not before I noticed his face turning bright crimson.

It was only after I had watched him walk to his parking deck and was halfway back to mine that I realized I'd never gotten his number.


There was only one thing to do.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, hitting the #1 speed dial. The phone rang twice and I heard the voice on the other end say hello.

"Will, I need your excellent stalking skills. I'll be home with a bottle of rum and carton of butterscotch ice cream in twenty minutes. Sound good?"

"Sounds like a party." The voice replied.

If anyone could help me find the best place to accidentally on purpose bump into my gorgeous blue eyed TA again, it was Will.