Hello everyone! I would profusely apologize that I haven't updated this story in so long, but I have to do what's good for me, and I have been busy and just didn't feel like writing this for a while. I'm currently rereading all of TMI so thats probably why I decided to continue. Also, someone dropped me a review (you know who you are :)) and I honestly didn't think anyone read this anymore, so I mainly updated because if you're still reading, I'm still writing!

Disclaimer: Cassie's basically a god. I'm insanely excited for TDA next year! (Oh, also I'm not a god. Or, you know, her.)

Jace

Jace was running through the trees so fast that it wouldn't have taken much to convince him that he was flying. The sky was a deep shade of indigo, the stars blindingly white in comparison.

It was nearly dawn, and Jace had been practicing at the park since Clary had left the Institute. He wanted to prove that he was faster than her, so he would do whatever it took to make sure she lost.

He wanted to – no, needed to prove that he was the best shadowhunter their age, not that stupid girl who couldn't possibly be nearly as good as him. Nobody was a better, or faster, shadowhunter than Jace Wayland. He had trained vigorously throughout his entire life, beginning when he could walk, and his training had been done by the only shadowhunter that Jace didn't think he could ever beat – his own father. Not that he was around anymore to beat.

Michael Wayland – recently revealed as Valentine Morgenstern – was a psychotic lunatic with a desire to rule the world and be praised for his demon-slaying abilities, but he was also the most amazing father a son could have asked for. He was strict and occasionally violent, but his training and belief in academic achievement was probably the only reason that Jace held the title of the 'best shadowhunter of his generation'. Sure, his father had been a little cruel and sadistic at times, and even lied about their true identities, but he loved Jace in his own, occasionally harsh way, and that was all Jace had needed growing up.

After the Clave had discovered his whereabouts, Valentine had sent Jace through the portal to New York with a letter to Maryse and Robert, explaining his predicament. Surprisingly enough, they had taken Jace in as their own when he was eleven years old and raised him ever since. They were fantastic parents and Jace was grateful to have them, but they weren't, and never would be his dad. And even though his father had been captured by the Clave and executed for his dwellings, Jace still loved him more than anyone or anything in the world, and he would've done anything to stop his death if he could have.

That all happened when he was about twelve anyway, so Jace was long past his feelings of sorrow and anger. At first, however, he had lashed out and wanted to kill those who murdered his father, but Alec had stopped him from ever trying. He was the only person who could ever really get to Jace like that, because he always seemed so wise and cautious, that Jace trusted Alec's judgment over anyone else's, including his father's.

Now, as Jace sat against a tree in the park, still breathing heavily from his run, with cold sweat dripping down his face, he watched the sun rise over the water, with cars already in heavy traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. And as he sat there watching the sun shimmer and dance on the water, he felt so at peace that he drifted off into his own world. He was so far away, that he almost didn't hear the distinct sound of someone trying to walk quietly – presumably to sneak up on him.

As soon as he could tell they were nearly directly behind him, he jumped up from his comfortable position on the ground, and forced the intruder against the tree that was previously behind him, with his knife against their throat.

"Anything I can help you with?" Jace asked as he looked the intruder up and down.

"Well son, I can see that my teachings have done you well," a voice said from beneath a dark hood. The face was so hidden in shadow that had Jace not recognized the voice, he wouldn't have known who it was.

"Father?" he asked, releasing his death grip and stepping backwards.

His dad removed his hood and grinned widely at his son. "Jonathan, look how amazing you've turned out," Valentine exclaimed in a very enthusiastic voice. "The Lightwoods have taken adequate care of you then?"

"Of course, father. They have been very generous to take me in and treat me as their own," Jace replied, all thoughts of being the best shadowhunter and beating Clary gone from his head in an instant.

"Well, don't just stand there, boy. Embrace me," his father demanded. "I haven't seen you in six years, one would think you'd be happy to see me."

"Of course I'm happy, father," Jace said as he moved forward to hug Valentine.

Just as he was about to wrap his arms around his dad's broad shoulders, though, something dropped out of the tree and landed on Valentine. Jace, though thoroughly confused, knelt beside his father right as the thing, or person rather, that fell from the tree slit his throat.

"No!" Jace screamed, wrenching Clary off of her dad's dying body. "That's my dad!" He picked Clary up and ungraciously dropped her as he knelt next to his father once again, and drew an iratze next to the wound. As opposed to sealing the cut, though, the iratze sizzled and his father made an inhuman screeching sound.

"No, no, no, no, no," Jace cried as he buried his face in his dad's chest and watched the life bleed out of him. When Jace assumed he was dead, he spun on Clary, who was watching this situation with mild interest.

"You monster!" Jace screamed. "How dare you touch him! You– you– you don't have any right! I– I'm going to–". Jace couldn't form a complete sentence, a complete thought. His head dropped into his hands as he fell to his knees, his body shaking violently.

As Clary watched him shatter in front of her, she realized that he wasn't trembling as sobs wracked his body and tears streamed down his face – no, he was trembling with anger, hands curling to fists as his expression morphed into one of complete rage. "Jace! Calm down," Clary said, annoyed. "He's not your father."

"Don't speak about what you don't know, Fairchild! He's the only father I ever knew and you just slit his throat!" Jace growled, pain and anger etched into every line of his body.

"No, you idiot. That was a demon disguised as your father! Look yourself," Clary said, only mildly exasperated.

Jace turned right then and saw that what once had been his father's body was now a filthy, disgusting demon that was slowly shrinking into a pool of black ichor. He was dumbfounded.

"B-but…" Jace trailed off, confusion being added to the emotions still boiling inside of him.

"I followed it when I was on my way to meet you, and I watched it transform into that despicable man before finding you. While you were busy with your little family reunion, I climbed the tree and watched from up there. You were about to hug it and it had a knife behind its back, so I figured I should probably intervene," Clary said simply.

Jace still seemed to be at a loss for words, now frustrated with himself for being so emotional and weak in front of a girl who already thought she was better than him.

Without warning, Clary let out a small giggle. When Jace glared at her, she apologized profusely. "It's just, I didn't think I would ever see the amazing Jace Wayland practically in tears," she said.

Jace, not having the courage to face her, just turned and walked away. He only got about two steps before Clary was grabbing onto his arm. "Oh, come on, I was kidding," she said. "I'm sorry that I laughed and I'm sorry about your dad."

Jace made sure his face was blank by the time he faced her again, his eyes were probably deep pits hiding all of his secrets that he pushed far inside of himself, so that nobody else could find them. "There's nothing to be sorry about," he said in a too-calm voice. He continued walking away, and Clary followed him. He couldn't hear her or see her – he could smell her on the wind. She must have been wearing strong perfume or something, as the smell filled Jace's nose and surrounded him even as he kept walking away.

"Jace," Clary said from behind him. "You can't just do that. You can't just experience something traumatic that makes you upset, and then pretend like it didn't even happen."

He didn't want to answer her anymore, so he just kept walking. "Jace." She said his name over and over again. He finally got so fed up that he turned around and said in a quiet but angry voice, "What?"

"Stop pretending that it didn't happen!" Clary yelled angrily.

Jace was menacing now, and he could imagine that all of his emotions of hurt and sadness turned to anger and frustration on his face. "I'm not pretending," he said, his voice quiet but explosive. "You think that I just forget about stuff like that? You think that I pretend my father never existed or left me for some other family? No, I never forget, and I never pretend it didn't happen. I just choose not to burden other people with my problems, so I'm not pretending, I'm just not sharing."

"Well maybe you should start sharing," Clary said, not deterred in the least. "Maybe if you actually talked to someone about everything that happened, you wouldn't be hoping so bad that you'll get to see your dad again!"

Clary

Jace laughed mirthlessly and rolled his eyes. He turned away again, and muttered something about Clary not understanding under his breath.

"You think I wouldn't understand?" she asked. "My dad left when I was three and he took my brother Jonathan with him. Of course I understand! You think I've never wished that he would come back and we could be a happy family again, the four of us? Of course I did! I spent years wallowing in self-pity because I didn't have a whole family, so don't even talk to me about not understanding what it's like to want to see your dad again!"

Jace had turned to face Clary about halfway through her rant, and he was looking at her incredulously now. "I didn't know," he said simply. Shadowhunters weren't big on apologizing for things that couldn't have been their fault, so he didn't say 'sorry' like a typical mundane would have.

"You're not the only person who's good at keeping secrets," Clary replied, trying to think of a way to subtly bring up a new topic. She wasn't a fan of talking about her dad much either. "The only difference, is that I've told someone about how I feel, and I've gotten over it. I have no desire to see my dad ever again. My brother, now that's a different story. I don't really remember him, but he was four when they left, and I think about what my life would be like with him in it every day."

"I've never met my mother," Jace said quietly. "And I have no other siblings. My dad is the only real family I've ever had, and even though he's sadistic and insane, I still love him more than anything. When I was eleven, he told me that I had to go stay with his friends, the Lightwoods, for a while, because bad people were looking for him. He said that he wanted to keep me safe until he could make sure that nobody was still after him, and then he shipped me off here with merely a letter explaining the situation to the Lightwoods. I haven't seen him since that day, but I've kept the letter since – after Maryse and Robert read it, of course. It explained how the Clave wanted Valentine, and how he wanted a better life for me. He told them to give me an alias so nobody would know that they were caring for a fugitive's son, and that he was sorry for the burden. He also said that he would never come back for me, even if the Clave never found him. He said that he didn't want a life of running for me, because I was the only person in the world he still loved, since my mother died and all. He signed it Valentine Morgenstern, and I've known ever since then that my real father was never Michael Wayland. But the scariest part for me, is that I don't care how much trouble he's in with the Clave; I'd still welcome him back into my life in a heartbeat. I love the Lightwoods, but I will never love them as much as my dad."

For a moment, they both just stood there, Jace staring at the sun still rising higher in the sky, and Clary watching Jace's expressions, which were no longer hidden beneath a mask. For some unknown reason, Clary walked the few steps to Jace and hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and after a second, felt his wrap around her shoulders, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

They stayed like that for a while, Clary matching her breathing to Jace's as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. When she pulled back from the hug, Jace had tears dripping down his cheeks, his lips pressed so tightly together that they were a white slash on his face. The worst, Clary thought, the worst was his eyes. Normally deep pools of secrets, his golden eyes were now darkened with despair and sorrow and longing. Oh, how she understood that. Clary wiped away his tears with the pads of her thumbs, staring into his captivating golden eyes.

"Let's go race, shall we?" Clary asked, her hands never leaving his face and her gaze locked with his. After another minute of twirling the end of her braid around his finger, Jace let go of Clary and smiled at her, turning and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Clary inquired.

"To win," Jace said as he turned around and cast a mischievous grin at Clary before taking off into a sprint, laughing like a lunatic as he did so.

"Ughh!" Clary, though frustrated, hurried to catch up while yelling profanities at Jace.

Jace

Jace could hear Clary running behind him, gaining speed. He laughed as he pushed harder and sprinted faster, still able to hear Clary screaming at him the whole time. He should have been sprinting towards the East end of the park, where Alec was waiting for the winner under a giant oak tree, but instead, he decided to go someplace else.

He ran until he was positive there weren't any people around, and then he slowed just enough that Clary would catch up and be right behind him, but not enough for her to notice he did it purposely. Once he could hear her footsteps directly behind him, he whirled and stopped. When Clary ran into him, Jace grabbed her face and pulled it to his own, kissing her. When she didn't try to stop him, he opened her mouth with his and let his tongue explore a little. As soon as he deepened the kiss, Clary put her hands on his chest and pushed away from him, wiping her mouth and breathing heavily.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Clary asked, although her anger wasn't quite resolute. Jace could almost see another emotion under her furiousness, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Jace said, stepping further away from Clary. "And also, that I win." As he said that, Jace stepped through a thicket of trees beside them, and ran, not waiting for Clary to catch up.

When Clary finally reached the spot where Alec and Jace were waiting, she was fuming. It had taken her three minutes longer than Jace to get there, probably because she didn't know the park as well as he did. Jace didn't know the details of her excursion, but he was betting by the look on her face that they were not pleasant.

"Have a nice run, did we?" Jace asked, smirking as he stood up from his spot on the ground.

"It was lovely, actually," Clary said enthusiastically. "I took a little detour to hell on my way!"

Jace grimaced as Clary furiously ran at him and began punching, kicking and clawing at Jace in her rage. Though not opposed to fighting girls, Jace decided it was best to let Clary release all of her anger. Needless to say, it was a bad decision. She had him on the ground in seconds, fists continuously connecting with his face.

"Alec! Help me!" Jace yelled as he managed to hold Clary's fists back momentarily. Annoyed at this disturbance, she straddled his chest and pinned his arms down at the elbows with her knees. For a little girl, was she ever strong.

"You think I'd make an attempt at subduing her while she's in a state like this? She's gone mental!" Alec said, cautiously staying a few feet away.

As soon as Alec called her mental, Clary stopped punching Jace and glared at Alec. During this quick lapse, Jace had the opportunity to gain the upper hand, and Clary was under him instead within an instant.

He sat with his knees on either side of her hips, holding her arms above her head with both of his hands, just for good measure. Blood from Jace's nose was dripping onto Clary's face, and she did nothing but glare at him, moving her head so that it wouldn't drip into her eyes.

Jace leaned in towards her, and she screamed. Letting go of her arms with one hand, Jace clamped the other over her mouth. "Don't scream," he whispered. He moved his hand so that it was aiding the other in holding down her arms again, and looked at Clary sternly. "I'm going to let you up, and I want you to calm down and stop attacking me, okay?"

After a moment, Clary nodded her assent. Jace released his hold on her and slowly stood up, offering a hand to Clary. She didn't take his hand and got up on her own, still angry, but her temper had cooled a little bit. Taking her stele out of her pocket, she moved towards Jace. Wary, Jace held up his hands.

"Oh, relax, Jace," Clary said, her usual sarcastic and superior tone restored. "I'm going to heal you, not hurt you."

After deliberating for a second, Jace allowed her to draw an iratze next to his probably broken nose, and near some of his worse bruises.

"Sorry that I…went off like that," Clary said, looking a little embarrassed.

"Sorry that I cheated," Jace said, his eyes alight with amusement.

"No, you're not," Clary replied, though she looked amused, as well.

Jace just shrugged in reply, not wanting to admit that Clary was right. "So…Taki's?" Jace asked cautiously.

Clary bit her lip, making her look incredibly adorable, while deliberating. "Okay," she said finally, still biting her lip. The more Jace watched her do it, the more he realized that it wasn't really adorable – no, it was pretty damn sexy, to be honest.

They made their way to Taki's, and as they sat in the booth across from each other, Jace began noticing every time Clary bit her lip. As soon as he noticed, his thoughts began to get…a little bit more disturbing, detailed and guyish than that. He couldn't help but picture her naked, biting her lip; on his bed, biting her lip; on top of him, biting her lip; on her knees, looking up at him with those big, green, amused eyes, biting her lip and naked, which would lead to her being on top of him–

Jace's thoughts were interrupted – quite rudely, he thought – by Clary, who was staring at him and calling his name as if he were a lunatic.

"What?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"Kaelie wants to know what you want to order," Clary was equally as, if not more annoyed. Jace understood why, though, as Kaelie stared at her venomously, while not even becoming impatient at Jace's lack of response.

"Just fries," Jace said as he looked apologetically at Kaelie. "And sorry for making you wait." He winked at her as she turned to place their order.

When he turned back to Clary, she looked appalled at Jace's behaviour. "Really, Jace?"

"Hey, if acting like you want a girl gets you free food, who am I to object?" Jace pointed out while Clary grumbled under her breath.

"Are you sure that was only an iratze that you drew on my face?" Jace asked, as he noticed a couple of people from different tables eyeing him strangely. "People are giving me weird looks."

"Actually, I drew a penis on there too. Figured it might go well with the look you're going for," Clary smiled wickedly.

"And what look is that?" Jace inquired.

"Oh, you know. One that's a little ballsy," she said it nonchalantly, but Jace could see the amusement flickering in her eyes as thick as a forest.

Against his better judgment, Jace laughed. Still smiling, he said, "So you really didn't draw anything?"

"I swear," she promised. Although it wasn't on the Angel, Jace figured she was telling the truth.

"So, you're a Fairchild?" Jace asked.

Clary's expression was stoic. "And you're a Herondale. Now that we have the low down on which family everyone's from, we can share stories from our past!"

Ignoring her sarcasm, Jace questioned her. "How do you know I'm a Herondale?"

"I read minds, actually."

"Believe me, if you were reading my mind right now, the look on your face wouldn't be quite so pleasant."

Clary made an 'ick' sound in the back of her throat, rolling her eyes simultaneously. "Your scar," she said. "The star on your shoulder. It means you've had an encounter with angels, and only the Herondale line ever has. William, I believe it was. That, or his wife Theresa. Maybe both, I can't remember."

"How do you know so much about my family's history?" Jace asked, though he gave no indication that any of this information was new to him. Maybe it wasn't.

Clary pursed her lips, seeming to debate on her answer. "I know the history of every family, as far back as Jonathan Shadowhunter. My mom made me learn it."

"Which person brought black hair and blue eyes into the Lightwood family?" Jace asked quizzically.

"Cecily Herondale."

"Which bloodline gave the Fairchild's their red hair but ended in name?"

"Branwell. Henry let Charlotte keep her name and give it to their children. Which reminds me, I would like my picture back."

"What picture?" Jace asked, though he didn't appear confused at all.

"You know the one," was all Clary said.

"Fine," he replied. Clary held out her hand expectantly. "Well, I don't have it with me. That would just be creepy."

"So it's not weird and creepy to take the photo in the first place, but it is to keep it on you?"

Jace was saved from answering, as Kaelie brought their food over. "I like the no-shave look," Kaelie whispered as she served him a plate of fries, her mouth dangerously close to Jace's ear.

When Jace looked at Clary to see how Kaelie's attention affected her, she was covering her mouth and attempting not to laugh. "What?" he asked.

Clary just shook her head, a few giggles escaping beneath her hands.

Grabbing a spoon from the table to see his reflection, Jace gasped at his own face. Just above his lip, a thick, curling mustache was drawn on in black ink.

I hope you enjoyed, lovelies. Perhaps more to come :)

As always, give me some feedback! Was it terrible, mediocre, heart-wrenchingly beautiful!? I want to know!

Peace, love and sparkles,

SLS