Okay, apparently when I said that I would update soon, I only meant sooner than last time, because it's been like four days since I updated. Oops. Sorry. Anyway, this chapter is longer, as BookWormS28 requested, if only by 700-ish words.

Thanks to bookwormium13, BookWormS28, hawiiangrl, Allie Rayie, SweetDreamzz3116, and another person who shall go nameless for reviewing! You guys rock! Everyone else sucks. Unless, of course, you reviewed another chapter, favorited, or added me to story/author alert. In which case, you would rock as well. In order to not suck, please do one of the aforementioned things. As well as making you awesome, it will earn you my undying gratitude.

"Clary, just let me explain." Looking deep into her eyes, he seemed to plead with her, begging her to let him have this chance.

Reluctantly, Clary gave a slow nod.

"Okay, it all started twenty years ago…"

"Twenty years ago, my mom got pregnant," Jace explained. "Everyone called it a miracle, because the doctors told her she would never be able to have children. She and my dad were ecstatic." An absent smile spread over his face as if he were recalling a fond memory, but it disappeared so quickly that Clary wondered if she had even seen it. "That's what my dad used to say when he would tell the story. When she was seven months pregnant, though, there were complications. The doctors said that they had to operate or she would die of blood loss. Basically, it was me or her." He shifted uncomfortably.

"She died on April fifth, a few hours after I was born. I was told that she was an amazing person. Sweet, angelic, pretty… but I never got to meet her. I never got to have a mom who loved me unconditionally, kissed my scrapes better when I fell, or tucked me into bed. I'll never even know what she was like, and she'll never know what I'm like. Sometimes, I wish she could see me. But then, I realize that even if she could, I'm not sure she'd like what she saw."

From the way the words came out all in a rush, Clary could tell that this was information Jace had never shared with anyone before. The look on his face as he told of his mother's death was a heartbreaking one, full of angst that he rarely let anyone see. Through his strong, unflinching façade, Clary could see the small, scared young boy he used to be. She had a sudden urge to take him into her arms and hug him tightly, but she knew that he wouldn't appreciate it.

"All I have left of her are pictures. That's how I figured out that she had blonde hair and golden eyes… just like mine. You know, I look into the mirror every morning and I see my features. Only they're not mine, they're hers. Without those pictures, I wouldn't even know what she looked like. My father refused to talk about her. This whole house used to be filled with her things, but he redecorated the place when I was eight as an attempt to move on. He never really managed, though. He died too… a few months after my eleventh birthday."

He looked up and met her eyes for the first time since his story had begun. "My mother died so that I could live," Jace continued earnestly. "And it tore my father up inside. He wasn't the same after that, or so I've been told. He was harsher, never quite cruel but always on the edge. He raised me to be exactly like him."

In a gesture of solace, Clary slid closer to Jace. She covered his hand with one of her own. "Oh, Jace." She comforted him. "I'm so sorry."

"I wasn't asking for your sympathy, Clary, and I don't want it." He pulled his hand away from hers. "I only wanted you to know that he raised me to be exactly like him." This last statement left Clary suitably confused.

"I'm doing this wrong," A little of Jace's blonde hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head uncomfortably. "Let me try this again: Clary, do you know what I do for a living?"

Clary's eyebrows knit as she tried to remember the answer. She attended an art school on the east side of the city, but she remembered that Jace told her he never planned on going to any sort of school again. Not even college. He worked part-time at as a mechanic, but she knew he didn't spend a lot of time at the shop.

"You work at the auto shop down the block from your apartment." She offered up after a moment's contemplation.

Guiltily, he shook his head. "I couldn't work as a mechanic even if I wanted to, Clare. I doubt I could tell the difference between a carburetor and brake pad if someone held a gun to my head." Jace pursed his lips uncomfortably. "No, I'm in the family business."

Clary had a feeling she wasn't going to like where this was going, but she couldn't resist asking, "And that would be…?"

"Well…" Jace said reluctantly, "I think the most common term for what I am would be an… assssmhhhm." He mumbled the word so that Clary couldn't hear it.

"What was that again?" Clary inquired. "I didn't quite catch it."

"Assassin." Jace muttered.

Clary stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. When the words finally sank in, she wished they hadn't. She rubbed a hand tiredly across her forehead and muttered, "Please tell me you're not serious."

"Clary, you saw that weapons room." He looked almost apologetic. "My father called it the Armory. It's where he kept all of the equipment for his missions. Now, like this house, it belongs to me."

"No. No." Clary shook her head adamantly. "You're crazy. This is impossible." He had to be joking. What kind of person in their right mind thought they were an assassin? He had to be insane. It was official, she decided, her boyfriend was crazy.

"Improbable, maybe." Jace pointed out. "Impossible, no."

"You're joking." Clary repeated staunchly. She searched his face for any sign that this whole thing was a joke. With one look into those golden eyes, Clary knew: Jace was completely serious. "…You're not joking?" She squeaked. "God, the guys I go out with."

"It's actually not a bad gig." He told her seriously. "The pay is great, but that's mostly because there are so few people in the business."

Clary let out a muffled squeak. "How can you be so callous, Jace?" She demanded. "How could you possibly talk about murdering people as if it's completely normal? These are people's lives you're talking about!"

"Whoa, Clary." Jace put up his hands in a universal gesture of surrender. "Calm down. It's not like that."

"Really?" Clary demanded. "What is it like then?"

"First of all, I don't go around murdering innocent people. Do you really think I'd do something like that?"

Clary glared at him darkly. "Right now, I have no idea what you're capable of."

Jace had the grace to look sheepish. "I probably deserved that one, but what was I supposed to say, Clary? For some reason I don't think, 'Hello, my name is Jace and I kill people for a living,' would go over very well."

Clary looked slightly less upset. "Still," she muttered. "Some warning would have been nice."

"I've never told this to anyone in my entire life, Clary." Jace confessed. He looked so darn adorable that she couldn't find it in herself to be mad at him. "I'm only telling you because I love you, and I want ours to be the forever kind of love."

Clary's eyebrows went up and she barely kept her mouth from dropping open. In all their time together, Jace had never said anything about their future. He had made no mention of staying together for another month, much less forever. The impact of his words finally sank in as she realized just how much this meant to him.

"Okay," she said swallowing nervously. "For a minute, let's pretend that you're not crazy. Let's say that you really are an… an as…"

"Assassin?"

"Yeah, that." She agreed, glad that she hadn't had to say the actual word. "Let's say you do that for a living. How do you pick your… targets?"

"I told you, Clary. I'm not a murderer." Jace insisted. "I work for the United States Government. I'm one of about seven fully trained operatives. We were all given special training and special orders. Sometimes, there are situations where the government can't send out different teams or troops. Situations where stealth and secrecy are highly valued and too many people would alert the bad guys that something is wrong. Who better to send on such missions that a highly trained, lethal, government-sanctioned assassin? We don't kill innocent people. We hunt down terrorists, murderers, and other evil people." He emphasized the word in an effort to help Clary understand. "We stop them from killing innocent people, people like you and your family."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh' is right." Jace grinned. "I, myself, have killed two known members of Al Qaeda, and baby, I'm just getting started."

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way," Clary said after a minute, "but why you?"

Jace looked positively affronted. "What do you mean, why me? I'm excellent at what I do. One of the best in the field."

"You said yourself that there are only seven." Clary pointed out dryly.

Jace frowned. "I'm sure there are more, but either way, I am great at it. It's one of the many skills I possess."

Clary rolled her eyes. "That's not even what I meant, Jace. What I meant was; why did the government hire you? You must have been a kid when all of this started. And you said your dad died when you were eleven, right? So how did he train you?"

"My father began my training when I was just a little kid. At first it was conditioning things, not actual techniques, just getting me adjusted to the way of life. After a while, he increased my training, and it got more intense. We even covered quite a few different styles of fighting before he died." Jace explained. Clary couldn't help but notice that when he spoke of his dad, something in Jace's voice was a little disjointed. Almost as if he wasn't quite sure how he felt about the man. "He wasn't my only instructor, though. The family I was placed with after his death was also in the business."

The pieces began to click together in Clary's head. "It was Alec's family, wasn't it?" She exclaimed.

Jace nodded. "The Lightwoods took me in. Maryse and Robert, Alec's parents, were good to me. They were family friends, and both of them were retired by the time I moved in with them. It's the only way to survive in this business, retiring early. But once you're a part of it, it's hard to ever quit completely. Alec and Isabelle still take the occasional job from time to time, as did Maryse and Robert."

"Wow." Clary murmured. Her mind was working overtime, analyzing everything Jace had ever said to her about his family and his job. Slowly, the puzzle began to fit together in her head.

"That's why most women don't make it in my profession," Jace said, as if he could that she was analyzing their entire relationship in her mind.

"Why?" Clary snapped. "Because we think with the head on our shoulders?"

"As opposed to the other one…?" Jace trailed off suggestively.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," said Clary.

"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it." Jace admitted. He thought maybe if he could subtly distract her, he could put off the moment he was sure was about to come. He was fairly positive that she was going to be freaked out by all of this and never want anything to do with him. It was why he never told anyone what he did for a living.

"Jace." Clary said sweetly, as if she hadn't heard what he just said.

"Yeah?"

"Your fly's unzipped."

Jace ducked his head down to check and found that exactly what she said was true."Mmhmm." A cocky grin covered his face. "And why were you looking?"

Clary blushed. "I wasn't."

"Sure you weren't." He made a show of zipping his pants back up. "Now, if only I had to zip them back up for a different reason."

Clary looked up with the intention of scolding Jace for his innuendo. But when their eyes met, Clary felt the breath being knocked out of her. It was strange that one look could be so powerful. Jace knew right then that he wouldn't regret his decision. Clary was the only girl in his life he'd ever been serious about. Whenever she wasn't around, he thought about her. And when she was, he was happy.

Their previous conversation was completely forgotten as Jace rose to his feet. "Clary, you're the first person besides Alec and Isabelle that knows about any of this. And considering the fact that you haven't freaked out and run away yet, I'm hoping that means you're here to stay."

Gathering all the courage that he could muster—which in Jace's own opinion was quite a lot, because he did kill terrorists for a living— Jace prepared himself to do the scariest thing he had ever done. Give him a gun and tell him to point it at a target, and he could do it without a thought. Pulling a trigger came easy to him; it was in his blood. Opening up like this, however, was decidedly different. And infinitely more scary.

Clary's jaw dropped open as Jace lowered himself down one knee and reached into his pocket. "Clarissa Fray, I love you." his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. "You make me nervous and breathless and sometimes even scared. What I feel for you is crazy, because I'm not the type of person to commit to anything. Much less a girl. …But you're the one person I want to be with every day, the one person I can tell my deepest, darkest secrets to and not have you think any less of me." He withdrew his hand from his pocket, and held up a black box. Flicking open the lid, he held the box up for his dumbstruck girlfriend to see.

"I want to grow old with you, Clary." Jace told her earnestly. "I want to live in this very house and watch you have my children. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I couldn't give you up if I tried. Clarissa Fray, will you—?"

He was cut off by Clary throwing herself into his arms and kissing him full on the lips.

They fell backwards onto the floor in a heap. Their bodies intertwined as their lips met fiercely. Clary swore she heard Jace let out a whimper, and she responded with everything she had. Oh, yes. This was how it should be. When they finally, broke apart for air, she let out a happy sigh.

"I'm going to take that as yes," Jace said once he got his breath back.

"Of course it's a yes, you idiot!" Clary shouted. "I love you!"

A sound of exaltation tumbled out of Jace as he wrapped his arms around her in an embrace that made it clear he was never going to let her go. He pulled her down for another kiss and grinned up at her. "So you want to marry me even after I took you on a date where I lost the key to my own house, dropped you in a puddle, burnt our food, and told you that I kill people for a living?" He wasn't even going to let her know that he originally forgotten that he was even planning on proposing.

"Well, now that you mention it I think I might change my mind." Clary joked.

Jace scowled. "That's not even funny."

"Just put the ring on my finger already!" The redhead ordered. Grinning, Jace did just that. He gave her one more kiss for good measure.

With a loving smile, Clary pushed herself off of him and got to her feet. She tugged at her hair to get it to lie down, fully intending to let Jace mess it up again later."Did you really have to go through all this trouble?" She asked as Jace got to his feet. "Haven't you ever heard of dinner at a restaurant? It's a lot easier."

"Overrated," he told her.

"You're unbelievable." She responded. Despite her attempts to frown, Clary felt a reluctant smile making its way across her face as Jace pulled her into the warm circle of his arms.

"Really?" He smirked. "I thought the word was awe-inspiring."

"You know there's still time for me to change my mind, right?"

"Mhmm." Jace whispered softly in her ear, "But you'd never do that."

"Really?" Clary asked skeptically. "And why not?"

"Because without you," Jace grinned, "I'd be heartbroken, and you love me too much to leave me like that." She was silent for a moment, and Jace whispered, "Clary?"

"Yes?"

"If you could have anything in the entire world, what would it be?"

"Nothing. I'm happy with what I have, Jace." Clary said sweetly. "Especially you." She looked up at him and Jace felt his heart do something similar to a back flip.

"Come on, Clary!" He implored. Despite their epic fail of an afternoon, the girl of his dreams had agreed to marry him. So now, he was going to give her everything she ever dreamed of. Money, after all, wasn't an issue. He was freaking rich.

"I don't need anything." Clary insisted, pulling him down for another kiss. "I've already got you."

He placed a few gentle kisses on her face before tugging her up the stairs after him. They managed to make it to one of the spare bedrooms and landed in a tangle on the bed, kissing all the while. After a moment, Clary pulled up for air. "All I really need is you, Jace." She said with a grin. "…But there was this really nice sketch set I saw the other day."

That's the end! What'd you think of Jace's history? I, myself, thought it was quite ingenious, but I've been known to be incorrect about these things. So, I need your input. Please, don't suck!