"I wonder if they'd let us play here?" Simon swirled the bright red cherry around his virgin drink and sipped loudly through the straw. "Pretty good, even if it was 7 dollars." His eyebrows lifted and he smacked his lips together with relish.

"Let who play here?"

"My band."

"Oh yeah… what's your name again?"

"Um.. Lawn Chair Crisis. I think." He sipped loudly again, growing more interested in the strange drink.

Clary was really only half listening. Her eyes swept the club. It was dark, lit only by flashing strobe lights, glowing piercings and black light reflections. Clary was jealous of the undulating bodies of the crowd, wishing she had the guts to dive in and find a random dance partner herself. She wouldn't, though, not in a million years. She didn't have the confidence for that.

"That's probably something you should know, Simon." She sighed, returning her yearning gaze to the table at the reminder that she would always be sitting on the sidelines, cracking jokes with Simon and wishing she had stronger guts. "Besides, they're playing techno music out of loudspeakers. Why do you think they'd hire a live band to play?"

"Look, there's a stage over there." Simon gestured to a corner of the club and Clary realized why she hadn't noticed it before: the dancers had swelled onto it and overtaken it. Her eyes caught on the gleaming gold hair of a dancer. His partner was a slender brunette with a short frilly dress, and she was absolutely mesmerized with him, grinding and stroking his body without restraint. The way he moved, Clary understood her very obvious attraction. He was graceful and reserved, while still teasing and flirty. They shifted, turning on the stage, his hands on her hips, and she leaned in very close to his ear to say something over the loud music. He smiled, and Clary felt a shiver of attraction to his roguish smile. His ears were pierced, but otherwise he didn't really look like he belonged in the new age-gothic club. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, a simple outfit compared to the highly decorative getup of his dance partner. Clary couldn't keep her eyes off of the way they moved together. She wished, for the hundredth time that night, that she could dance like that, be like that girl.

"What are you staring at so hard?" Simon had noticed she wasn't paying attention to him and squinted towards the stage, following her eyes. Clary immediately tore her gaze away, embarrassed by Simon's scrutiny.

"Some of the outfits here are really cool." Clary brushed off his question, but her eyes drifted back to the couple as Simon looked away, back to the golden haired boy. She couldn't help it, something about him just-

His eyes met hers as he shifted his dance partner once more, tossing her fluidly from one hand to the other. Surprised, her mouth fell open a little, and somehow she didn't feel like he could be holding her eyes, looking at her like she was; she must be daydreaming. It wasn't until he smirked at her that she dropped her gaze, heat rushing into her face.

Oh god, he knew I was checking him out. Why didn't I look away sooner?

Stinging with embarrassment, Clary stole Simon's drink from him and sipped deeply from the straw, in need of a physical activity to distract her.

"What do you think? Even the drinks here are weird." Simon asked mildly.

"Tangy." Clary coughed. It tasted tropical, but she couldn't put her finger on the exact fruit. Avoiding the stage, Clary looked around wistfully one last time, taking in the exotic outfits and styles, somehow bright and colorful and dark and ominous all at once, before grabbing her purse. "Can we go? The music's too loud to hear you."

"Really? Already? Don't you want to dance?" Simon asked, surprised. He sounded almost hopeful.

"Naw." Dancing with Simon was kind of awkward and uncomfortable, like dancing with a brother. "I think I want to go home, if that's ok."

A little deflated, Simon nodded.

"Alright. Just let me finish this thing first. It was expensive, I might as well." Clary could tell he really liked it by the way he devoured the straw. She was too embarrassed to sit there, not after the way that guy smirked at her. She needed to move.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom, then." She jumped from the high stool, a painful reminder of her short stature, and threaded her way through the crowd. A glowing, neon sign in the shape of a punk rocker chick directed her to the ladies room. When Clary pushed the paint splattered door open, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief at escaping the claustrophobia of the crowd. Clean, cool air from outside filtered through a vent directly, washing over her as she stepped to the sink. She fussed with her hair a little, killing time. Her outfit couldn't have been plainer- just a jacket over a solid colored tank top, and black jeans. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders and back, loose and simple. She couldn't stand the upkeep of hairstyles, so most of the time she just brushed it and let it do what it wanted. She remembered the elaborate hairstyle of the flashy, beautiful girl the boy had been dancing with. She turned from the mirror and ducked out of the bathroom.

She checked her phone as she walked down the dark hallway from the bathroom, back to the crowd of dancers; 6 new texts, all from her mom. Great.

She swerved to avoid another person she noticed out of the corner of her eye, too distracted with opening her mother's texts to look up fully. It's not past curfew, why does she have to freak out? She wondered, irritated. She bumped into a chest, and looked up in surprise, about to apologize. The person she'd idly been trying to avoid was the boy who'd caught her staring.

He was looking down at her, square in front of her, with mild amusement. His tawny eyes sparkled in the glow of the black light of the hall. That can't be his natural color was the last thought to drift through her mind before it went blank and her former embarrassment returned, his smirk from earlier flashing through her head.

"Sorry." She mumbled, looking anywhere but at his smug expression. She ducked to the side again, but he moved to block her. She froze in confusion.

"I bumped into you, actually. My bad." He smirked again. He was even more attractive up close. Clary could barely look at him.

"Oh?" Her voice was almost a squeak. "Don't worry about it." She flashed him a small smile before trying to edge around him again. He blocked her once more.

"Want to dance?" He asked.

Clary was literally frozen in surprise. She realized she was gaping at him again and quickly closed her mouth.

"Um-" She mumbled. Not really, I've only ever danced with Simon, and not well at that.

He grew bored with waiting and boldly took her hand in his, drawing her the rest of the way down the corridor, slipping easily into the crowd. Clary was faint with surprise, still trying to process the situation, when he found a slight opening in the crowd and pulled her into the pocket, right up against his chest. The music was pulsing, but it was slower, thank god- she didn't know what she would have done if it was a fast song. He started to move, the way he'd moved with that other girl, graceful and flirtatious. His hand drifted from her shoulder to her waist, gently guiding her against him, prompting her to move to keep up with him. She'd never danced like this before, and at first she was timid, afraid. He leaned in close to her ear so she could hear him over the music,

"Relax. I'm not going to eat you." Well, he didn't have to point out how tense I am. Anger replaced nerves and she wrapped her arms boldly around his shoulders, pulling him closer, moving her hips to the beat with energy. He was almost surprised by the sudden move, but then his smirk returned and he leaned into her again. She was shocked when his hands drifted lower, resting on her hips briefly before curling around to caress her lower back. No one had ever touched her there before, not like that. Electricity sparked up her spine from the feel of him.

He'd bent his head close to her, and she was again mesmerized by the golden color of his eyes. The beat in the air, pulsing through the ground, the sweaty bodies around them, Clary was losing her sense of self and falling into it, and, in the center of it all, his gold eyes she couldn't break away from.

His hands were gentle on her back, urging her ever closer, and suddenly their hips were touching, her chest inches from his. The feel of his hips against hers was definitely a new experience; she was nearly dizzy with nerves. Every time he moved against her, her heart jumped, her palms grew sweatier, and she lost track of what was in front of her, too intent on his body's movements. She knew what they must look like, she'd seen people dance like this before and it made her blush to even watch, and suddenly she was very aware of how many people might be watching them at that moment.

Then, without warning, at a time when she couldn't register what was in front of her she was concentrating so hard on what his hips and hands were doing, he bent to kiss her. His lips were sweet like honey, and the musky smell of him hit her like a wave.

Clary, too lost in it all, didn't realize she was kissing him back. She'd kissed before, not a lot, not nearly enough to be called 'a lot', but enough that she knew how. Her brain was lagging behind her body, it couldn't tell her whether she should or not, so her body took charge. Her brain seemed to have completely shut off, all this new information and experience overloading it to the point of a major crash.

He pulled her even closer, and her chest was pressed against his now, her hips melding with his, his thighs parting her legs, and they were dancing the way she'd never imagined she would dance with anyone.

And she didn't mind it, not one bit.

His tongue pressed gently against her lips, entering her mouth. She thought she might faint from the rush of adrenaline in her body, especially when his hands drifted up into her hair, holding her lips close to his.

"You should put your purse away." He whispered against her mouth, in between kisses, "It's annoying."

"Oh." Was all she could manage. It had been bumping against them and slipping off her shoulder from time to time. She vaguely wondered whether she should leave it with Simon.

Simon.

Then reality came crashing back, and she realized she was dancing with and kissing a person she'd never met before in plain view of her best friend, to whom she would have a hard time explaining the disconnect between her brain and her body.

"Um." Clary bit her lip and shook her head a bit to clear some of the fuzzy, non-thinking from it. "I should get back." He was too close. His smell was overwhelming her, making her dizzy. She even didn't know smells could do that.

"Why? Is someone waiting for you?" Her dance partner asked, his gold eyes dazzling her, "Is it that guy you came with? Didn't look like you were very interested in him."

"Yes." She said simply, "I mean, we're not like that. He's my friend. I should go." She was having a hard time removing herself from the warm, hard, feeling of this stranger against her body. She didn't want these feelings to stop.

"If he's just your friend," The stranger said, "why don't you tell him you're going to spend the night with me."

"What?" Clary blinked, stunned.

"You don't want to?" He grinned, confident of her response.

"Um." There was a strange buzzing sound in her ears. Dancing with him felt so amazing, and now he wanted to spend the night with her? Had she entered into a magical fairyland of unicorns and dragons?

"I don't even know your name." She realized.

"Jace." He smirked. She had a feeling he knew what she was thinking.

"Well, you don't know my name." She frowned.

"What's your name?" He asked with a laugh.

"Clary."

"Now I know your name. So? What will it be?" He asked.

"You don't mess around with small talk, do you?" She breathed, irked.

"Not when I know what I want." He winked. Clary looked away abruptly. She wasn't used to being told she was wanted.

"Is that a no?" He asked. They were still moving against each other, their bodies pressed tightly together, but now he started to pull back.

"Have you just been asking girls that all night?" She wondered aloud, bitter at the sudden distance between them.

"You're the first, actually. You might not believe me, but it's true." Jace shrugged. "I've had a couple offers, but nothing too tempting to resist." The way he said it made her think he wasn't just bragging to impress her- he was sincerely nonchalant about the whole idea.

I wouldn't believe him, but he's attractive, so I'm sure it's true. Clary swallowed, remembering how that girl was dancing with him. She still couldn't bring herself to say no, to tell him to go to hell because she wasn't that kind of girl. She didn't want these amazing feelings to stop.

It wasn't like she had this romantic notion of losing her virginity, and to whom she would lose it. She wasn't waiting for her soul mate, exactly, she wasn't really waiting for anyone. She'd just never wanted to, not like she did now. He'd somehow coaxed her body into thrumming with want.

"Ok." She agreed, her hands shaking at the idea. Jace's eyebrows jumped up before he pulled her close again, leaning down to kiss her deeply. French kissing, dirty dancing, and sex all for the first time in one night? Am I still Clary Fray?

"Um, I'll be right back. I've got to go tell him."

"I'll come with you."

"No, that's ok!" If she had to explain to Simon why she was leaving, she might just die of embarrassment. It was so out of character for her, she was sure Simon wouldn't understand.

His eyebrows leapt up again, this time for a different reason.

"Are you worried I won't play nice?" He drawled, sarcastic.

"He's kind of protective of me; he'll probably try to stop me from going with you."

"Oh." Jace grinned, continuing to follow her.

"Hey, can you go wait somewhere else?" She said, more direct.

"So he will think someone's abducted you? Naw, I'll introduce myself, then he won't worry."

I'll introduce myself, then he won't worry. Let me tell you how flawed that plan is.

"Will you just chill over there so I can talk to my friend?" She snapped, pointing at a corner without people and out of Simon's sight.

"Why are you so touchy about him? You aren't dating, right?" Jace frowned.

"We aren't. Don't worry, he won't be coming after you with a weapon in your sleep." Clary said. Something glittered in his eyes, almost as though the thought of Simon attacking him was very amusing.

"Oh, I won't worry." Clary glanced back at him, his tone giving her pause. He had stopped following her and instead was watching her with that same arrogant smile. He melted back into the crowd, and Clary pushed down the lump in her throat as he disappeared.

Am I really going to do this? Am I going to go with him?

She thought back to the electricity sparking through her body as he touched her, the dizzying desire and adrenaline that flooded her, making her hands shake with the pure alertness that came with being so close to him. Yes. Tonight, I take a chance.

"Hey Simon."

"Clary! I'm done with my drink. You want to head out?" Simon stood from the stool, picking up his school bag from the ground.

"I ran into another friend here, so I think I'm going to stick around for a while."

"Really? Who?"

"You don't know him."

"Him?" Simon's eyes narrowed. "Why don't I know him? I know everyone you know. I know your childhood babysitter, for christ's sake."

"I met him in my art classes at Tisch, so… yeah, I think I'm going to hang around for a while. But you should go home, it's getting late and your mom will worry." Clary smiled brightly.

"What do you mean my mom will worry? Your mom is the strictest parent I know when it comes to staying out late!" Simon's frown deepened. "Maybe you shouldn't trust this guy if you just met him."

Clary had to resist groaning out loud. Why were these two boys making it so difficult for her? He has a good point- maybe I shouldn't trust Jace, I just met him.

There was something about him though, something Clary couldn't put her finger on, that she knew she could trust. It was that same something that attracted her eyes to him in the first place, that kept her eyes glued to him even when he noticed her staring at him. He seemed indescribably familiar.

"I can trust him." She found herself saying, and she felt it in her heart. "He's a good guy."

Simon still wasn't convinced.

"Introduce me to him. He better walk you home, New York is dangerous at night." Clary rolled her eyes at him, but at the same time she wouldn't want to walk home alone at night either.

"Alright, but don't ask him a bunch of weird questions."

"Weird questions? I'm offended, Clarissa Fray."

"Yeah, like what's your license plate and social security." Clary said pointedly.

"Well those aren't 'weird questions', those are just common practice if you leave your female friend alone with a strange guy."

"I told you he's not strange, I know him." Clary felt a twinge of guilt insisting on her lie. She led him to the corner she'd pointed Jace to, and sure enough he was leaning coolly against the wall, watching them approach with those lion's eyes of his.

"Hey." Simon nodded. Jace didn't nod back. "I'm Simon, Clary's friend."

"Jace." He said, his eyes on Clary.

"So you met Clary in art class?" Simon asked. Clary narrowed her eyes at him, unsure where he was going with this. "Was it the one where they draw pots or naked people?"

Jace's lips twitched in amusement.

"Naked people."

"Oh? How was that?" Simon asked, actually interested. He was continually bothering her about her figure drawing class, convinced that it must be far more awkward than she insisted it was.

"A little cold at times, but mostly fine." Simon's eyes flicked over Jace, taking in how attractive he was and seeming to accept the information at once. Simon looked at Clary accusingly.

"You've seen him naked? Aren't there, like, rules about fraternizing with the models?"

"He's kidding. He wasn't modeling." Clary said quickly. "He was drawing with the rest of us. We set our easels up next to each other and started talking."

Simon still looked a bit green as his eyes swept over Jace again.

"Alright. Well." Simon seemed to recover his train of thought, "I just wanted to check that you can walk Clary home, it's getting dark out."

"Sure, I can do that." Jace nodded. Simon looked between them again, still unsure and almost irritated, but then Clary nudged him towards the door with a look.

"I'll be fine. Go, I'll head home soon." She smiled affectionately at him and Simon took a few steps towards the door, casting a look at Jace one last time before turning fully and walking towards the exit.

When he left, Jace wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Clary gasped a little at the sudden show of affection, his lips right at eye-level and only inches from her as he said,

"So… how about we get out of here?"

Now that she was close to him again, that same electricity was running through her, warming her body and chasing coherent thoughts from her head. She put her hands on his chest, almost experimentally, surprised at the firmness beneath her fingertips. He glanced down at her fingers, lightly tracing his chest, and seemed pleased by it.

"Where to? My house is out."

Jace started walking, taking her hand in his at once and leading her through the throng of colorful goths.

Clary felt a tingle of excitement when he tucked their hands into his pocket as they left the club and cool near-night air hit them. Oh, I guess he's going to hold my hand even when we aren't trying to stick together in a crowd of people. The sun was setting over the tall buildings, streaking the sky with reds and purples.

"Well, I can't take you back to where I live. Let's find a hotel."

"Why's that?"

Jace smiled to himself as though at some private joke.

"Girls aren't allowed."

"Oh really?"

"You pick. I'll pay." Jace offered.

"I don't know many hotels." Clary responded, nervous. She wanted to be alone with him, but if they were going to a hotel, she didn't want to pick something outlandishly expensive, or incredibly cheap.

"Alright, I'll pick." He continued walking.

They arrived at an old fashioned looking building a subway ride later. It was ancient but clean, and Clary felt when she entered the revolving doors that it had probably been a hotel for at least eighty years by the look of it. The person behind the counter looked suspiciously like they had just left the same club they had- her hair was shot through with purple and pink highlights, and she had added trinkets and bobbles to create a steam-punk version of what Clary figured must be the uniform. Clary could have sworn she saw the shimmer of dragonfly wings at her back, but then she blinked at they were gone.

The girl looked Clary over with interest and asked abruptly,

"A mundane, Jace?"

"Just shut up and give me a room key." Jace rolled his eyes. The girl huffed and turned to look through the large wall of cubbies at the back of the room. Clary wondered if 'mundane' was some kind of racist comment she'd never heard before and whether she should be offended by it. Jace didn't seem offended for her, so Clary figured she'd let it go. She was struck by the old-fashioned system of maintaining the rooms. Aren't these things usually computerized…?

"Room 105 is free."

Jace caught the key she tossed at him and swiftly continued on his way. They walked down a deep velvet blue and red hallway, the walls a composition of wood and embroidered silk screens, and Clary wondered how many times he had to have brought girls here that the concierge knew him by name. Suddenly she didn't feel special at all; she felt cheap.

Why am I doing this? I should leave.

Jace fit the old, elegant key into the door lock and twisted, pulling her into the room by the hand. Clary was stunned at how beautiful the room was, like something out of a fairytale. The four post bed covered in a lacey bedspread, the furniture looked like it had been transported directly out of the Victorian age, and most of it was a rich, dark color that complimented the deep blues and reds of the floor and walls. Clary wished she had her sketchbook on hand.

"Wow, this is really pretty." She whispered to herself. Jace shrugged off his jacket and hung it up in the small closet by the bathroom.

"Glad you like it." He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door to the bathroom. Without his jacket, Clary could see the defined muscles of his arms and the way his thin white t-shirt fell around his body. He was really fit.

Clary's heart pounded in her chest as the silence stretched on, incredibly aware of the small distance between them. She examined a small lampstand just to have an excuse to move and look away, completely unsure what to do in this sort of situation.

"All the furniture in here is so nice."

"I never really noticed. I guess to an artist." Jace said.

A light touch on her arm sent a shock through her skin and Clary turned to see that Jace was right behind her, his hand trailing down her arm.

"You've never done this before, have you?" He asked quietly.

"Not really, no." Clary swallowed hard, looking away nervously as his hand shifted seamlessly from her wrist to her waist.

"Why now?"

"I don't know." Clary mumbled, too distracted by his hand slipping under her shirt, his fingers grazing her stomach.

"Well, I'm very flattered that you picked me to break your one-night-stand cherry." His breath was on her neck now, and she drew a sharp breath as he kissed the sensitive skin there. He ran his hand up her shirt, and Clary gasped as he came to her breast. She'd never been touched there; it was strange and pleasant and terrifying all at once. His hand dipped inside her bra, massaging her and pinching her nipple lightly.

A moan lept from Clary's throat and she almost covered her mouth in surprise. She didn't know she could make that sound.

Jace smiled against her skin at the sound and gently turned her around. He lifted her shirt over her head with both hands, his eyes falling on her exposed chest and lighting up at what he saw.

"You're beautiful…" He murmured against her lips, stroking her sides before peeling down the pads of her bra. Clary's head was pounding and the strange buzzing sound was back. She was just trying to keep standing through all these new sensations.

"Thank you." She muttered awkwardly, unsure what else to say or even if she should say anything at all. Jace's eyes were intense as he leaned back to look at her. Clary sighed at the rush of adrenaline that surged through her as he pressed his chest against her bare chest, his shirt soft against her skin. She realized she should probably undress him too if she wanted to get anywhere.

She slipped her hands hesitantly under his shirt, and his eyes flared with desire as she brushed the skin just above his pants. She seized the light material in her hands and he raised his arms so she could pull it off his head, revealing an incredibly toned chest. She gulped at the sight of it and her hands began to shake.

Jace kissed her slowly, trailing kisses from her mouth to her neck as he backed her towards the bed. Clary jumped a little as they hit the edge of the bed. Jace lowered her down, and as she laid back she had no choice but to part her legs for him, an intimate position that caused her stomach to roll over in her body. He started to undo her jean button, and her heart really kicked up it's pace then. The buzzing in her ears intensified as he pulled her jeans down, revealing her underwear and upper thighs, bare to his gaze. He tugged them down off her legs before falling over her and back to her lips, his hands growing rougher and more urgent in their treatment of her. She cried out against his lips as he squeezed her breast particularly hard, and he immediately drew back.

"You all right?"

"You just surprised me." Clary panted. His whole attitude surprised her, the urgency with which he kissed her and touched her. She couldn't believe someone would want her with such passion.

He kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as their bare chests rubbed together, and Clary couldn't think, could barely breathe she was so lost in the feeling.

Clary realized eventually she should finish undressing him, as he was letting her go at her own pace with his clothes rather than undressing himself. She guessed he could tell how nervous she was. Her hands were shaking so badly she wasn't sure she could do it. Jace noticed her trembling, and he took her hand in his, directing her between their bodies to the opening of his jeans.

"You ok?" He asked again, his breath harsh and ragged, his eyes a little out of focus.

"I-" Clary couldn't form words. She focused on undoing his jeans, her fingers trembling so badly she could barely pull the zipper down. She started to slide his pants down his hips and Jace moaned lightly against her neck, helping her once she had passed the point that she could reach.

Then they were nearly naked and pressed against each other. Time lost meaning to Clary, all she knew were his hot kisses on her body and the fact that she felt like she was floating. When did I lose my underwear? She wondered absently as she saw her underwear next to her on the bed. Jace urged her farther up, away from the edge, and positioned himself above her, pressing her hands to the bed with his. She interlaced her fingers with his and was struck by how reverently he touched her, as though she were something fragile he was trying not to break.

She could feel him at the entrance to her, and suddenly she realized that this was it. This was the moment she had wondered about. Is it going to hurt? What will it feel like? What if I can't do it? What if he doesn't like it?

What am I doing here, why did I agree to this?

Jace held her eyes as he slowly pushed into her, and to Clary it was the most erotic thing in the world, the way he was looking at her with pure lust. Then a shock of pain shot through her, Clary cried out, and Jace's eyes widened with surprise. He stilled immediately, frozen as he watched her recover from the stinging aftermath. The pain died away quickly when he stopped.

"Oh my god." He whispered. He sat up, anger and fear flashing through his expression. He moved back, withdrawing from her, and stared at her for several moments in stunned silence. Clary was suddenly embarrassed to be lying in such an exposed position, so she sat up too, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"You didn't tell me I was popping your actual cherry." Jace's eyes narrowed, his voice a strange calm as he referred back to his earlier comment. She had no idea what he was feeling, his face was a mask to her.

"You didn't ask." Clary replied, nervous.

Jace's mouth fell slightly open at that and an eyebrow shot up. He closed his mouth with a snap and his eyes narrowed into an openly angry expression. He tugged the condom off- when did he put that on? Or did I do it?- found his underwear next to them- did I take those off?- and started to pull them on. He balled up the condom and threw it in the waist basket on the side of the bed.

"Well, gee, I'll put that on my list of things I ask a girl before I bed her from now on."

Clary clutched the sheets around her, incredibly confused by his sudden change in attitude. She wanted his skin back on hers, his kisses on her neck, his touch on her thigh, his chuckle in her ear- but his expression was closed off now, cold and irritated.

"Why are you so angry?" She wondered aloud, trying to keep the hurt from her voice, pulling the sheet tighter around her.

"You didn't tell me you were a virgin." Jace repeated as he slid his jeans back on.

"Sorry I'm not usually so slutty and I made an exception for you." Clary's voice was louder and more sarcastic than she wanted it to be.

Jace paused, looking back at her.

"What, you really want to lose your virginity this way?" He asked, his expression hostile. Now you're judging me? Now? After all that I've let you do tonight, having only just met you, you judge me for being a virgin? Isn't it supposed to be the opposite reaction?

"It's none of your business how I choose to lose my virginity!" Clary's temper flared and she found herself actually yelling at him.

"It is if I'm the one doing it!" He growled, tugging his shirt back on. "Get dressed, I'm taking you home." He turned his head as though he couldn't bear to look at her any longer, arms crossed in front of his chest. Clary was beyond furious. He thinks he can just order me around after treating me like this? She threw a pillow. He recoiled in surprise as it hit him.

"Jesus, I can't believe you're judging me!" Clary cried, bitterness dripping off her voice.

"I'm not judging you, I just don't want to be a part of it!"

"Why does it make such a big difference?" She yelled again. No matter the reason, she felt rejected, unwanted. If she didn't yell, she thought she might cry out of humiliation, and crying in front of him was absolutely not an option.

"Because, I'm not going to be a huge mistake to you!" He yelled back, losing his control. "You don't know it yet, but you will when we're done and you hate yourself and you hate me for letting it happen!"

Clary was quiet then, stunned at the passion in his words. But she was still angry.

She threw another pillow at him. Jace ducked this one easily, grabbed his jacket out of the closet, and called,

"I'll be outside. Come out when you're done." before he opened the door and retreated through it. Clary stared at the closed door, trying to process everything that had just happened.

I don't know what's up with me lately, guys, all I've been able to write is porn. I try to write something with meaningful plot and romance….. and it ends up porn XD. Whatever, I'm just going to go with it for now. I have a feeling this is going to turn into a more meaningful story, the seeds of ideas are already sprouting in my mind. I think my porn regression is because Cassandra Clare has been teasing us for, what, five books now? How many 'almost' moments have Clace had? I guess I needed to play it out in my brain to get some closure on their romance.

Please review!