Author's Note: Hey, this has been an idea I've been throwing around for a while now. It's one of those things that you make dialogue for and act out in the shower but forget about it when you get out. I personally love when Jace and Clary interact with kids, whether it is Max or anyone else, so this will be a little fluffy, sweet story about Jace and Clary with a kid. The catch is, it's a baby from one of Jace's one-night stands that ends up on his doorstep and Clary is just his artsy neighbor that is familiar with his endless stream of women.

Jace

I love my bed. It's is literally the best bed I have had the liberty to sleep on, and that number is rather high. The mattress is like a night-long hug but firm enough for my back. Then, dressed in a fresh pair of thousand count sheets, it was heavenly. That said, you can understand why I'm not all that happy when I have to leave my bed, especially at three in the morning.

The knocks were harsh at first, startling me in the sheets, but then they turned timid and frantic. Then they stopped. I contemplated just rolling over and going back to sleep when I heard the harsh knocks return. Swinging myself out the bed, I stomp through my apartment, ready to fight with whatever ass decided this would be a good idea.

I tear the door open, making them groan on their hinges as my golden eyes scan the hallway for the culprit. My eyes dance to the ground in frustration and what I see makes me jump back into my apartment, slamming the door. My heart is hammering in my throat as I lean my back against the door, the handle digging into it.

A few seconds go by and I assume my sleep deprived eyes were simple showing me rather horrifying hallucinations, I hear soft whimpers turn into full on cries. Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door, only creating a crack large enough to see with a single eye.

As I suspected, the flailing human baby was still there, very real. Just about as real as the spit dribbling down their chin and snot from their nose. I slowly inhale, trying to relax. It's not like their mine, right? I'll just call the police and they'll take him. Steeling myself, I swing the door open and bend down, my bare feet half on my wooden floors and the freezing linoleum of the hall.

The baby is wrapped in a light grey blanket and when I pick him up, he snuggles into my bare chest, his wet cheek rubbing along my skin, soothing himself. He was in a baby carrier, so I nudge it into my apartment with my foot before shutting the door.

I sit on the couch until the sniffling stops, then I grab a tissue from the side table and attempt to wipe the baby's face. Their eyes are red and when I look at the, for the first time, It's unsettling to see my own staring back. I had only seen these eyes twice in my life. When I looked at my father and when I look in the mirror, and now would be the third. I shrug this off and crumble the tissue up as the baby snuggles into me again.

I lean down and see the carrier has a bottle, a little bear and an envelope. I grab the envelope first and see it's rather unassuming. Slightly wrinkled, but pure white with elegant blue pen spelling out my name on the front. Cold sweat breaks out along my skin as I decide what to do. I carry the baby to my room and place him in the middle of the king sized mattress I love so dearly, surrounding him with pillows and the comforter so he doesn't roll off, if he can do that yet.

I tear the envelope open, fingers trembling.

Dear Jace,

I'm really sorry. I am. We were just having fun, but this isn't fun anymore. After we broke up, I found out I was pregnant. I was too scared to tell you. I had the baby three months ago and decided it was best you didn't know, until now. I tried to have a connection, but I can't. There's still so much I want to do, and see, and I can't do it with a baby. I hope you understand,

Aline Penhallow

I remember Aline. She was a tall, beauty I had dated for a very brief time a little less than a year back. It was very casual, very open, and we never thought it would lead to this. Rereading the note, I feel disgust. How could she not tell me sooner? How could she just leave the baby on some stranger's doorstep, in a lonely hall where anyone could have come along?

I look at the baby and feel pity. How can a mother not love her child? Then I realize, that's what we have in common, not just our eyes, but the absence of our mother's love. Looking at the baby, eyes dropping, small chest rising and falling with each soft breath, I realize I have to help him. Even if he's not mine, he doesn't deserve to be left on another doorstep.

It's when I wake up that I realize I was way in over my head. The baby was still sleeping in his carrier where I had placed him, which I thanked God for. At eight I had woken up on my own accord and stretched across my bed, glad that crazy dream was over, until my eyes landed on the carrier right next to my bed where the kid was still sleeping.

Now, I was just lying there, staring at the ceiling as I thought of what I was getting myself into. I couldn't tell my family, not yet, so I had to do this on my own. I didn't really have friends, so that was out of the question. Then I remembered the fiery red head that lived on the floor below me. I'll admit, I had made a few jokes about it in the elevator if you know what I mean. She had simply shaken her head and got off at her floor with a 'have a nice day, Jace'

I always see her coming in and out with two young kids whom I assume are her niece and nephew, because at the end of the day or long weekend, a happy couple comes to pick them up. She must have some idea of what to do.

Getting dressed, I look over to the baby still sleeping soundly and sigh. I hope I don't screw up too bad the next few weeks.

I use the carrier to bring the baby with me down the stairs, seeing as the elevator is conveniently out of order. I come up to a door I believe to be Clary's and knock, hoping she's awake, or here. I hear someone call through the door and then it's being swung open.

"Hey Jace," she smiles. When her eyes dance to the carrier in my hand, she cocks and eyebrow and looks at me in slight surprise, "Who's this?" she asks.

"I'm not sure," I answer truthfully. She looks confused, and I don't blame her, "apparently, I have a kid and the mom left him or her on the doorstep last night," I sigh,

"Oh," she says. What else can you say?

"I need your help, big time," I tell her. She looks up at me and nods slowly.

"I'll be ready in ten," she motions for me to come inside, so I do, relief filling me to the brim.

Clary

I leave Jace and his baby in the living room and retreat to my own to change from my pajamas. Pajamas I had hoped to stay in all weekend, but I couldn't just close the door in Jace's obviously distressed face. I met him the day he moved in and had reduced him to a shallow tool, but the more I ran into him, I had to appreciate his looks and although cocky, he is always a gentleman. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have at least the tiniest crush on him.

I threw on a black t-shirt with a pair of jeans and my jean jacket. Ever since befriending Isabelle, my shoe selection has slowly grown into a selection of heels, on pair of sneakers and a pair of old converses that I hardly ever wear anymore. I slip on a pair of black wedges before sliding out of my room just as baby whimpers fill the air.

Undoing my hair from its braid, I walk in to see Jace trying to console the squirming child with flailing limbs and toothless gums. I walk over and deftly pluck the baby from his hands, holding what I assume to be a little girl close to my chest, holding her head to my heart as I soothingly rub her back. Her cries turn to small whimpers.

When her small hands begin fisting in my shirt, intent on finding their way into my bra, I realize the problem.

"The mom didn't leave her with a bottle?" I ask, seeing how hungry the poor thing must be.

"It was bad when I checked it," Jace tells me. I nod and go to the kitchen. At least until we get her formula, warm milk will have to do. I heat some up, stirring the liquid with my finger in a pot as I bounce the baby on my hip, earning soft giggles.

"Why is your finger in her milk?" Jace asks confused.

"So I know when it gets warm without it being too hot. That way it doesn't burn," I trail off, waiting for him to fill in his baby's name, but he looks down in shame.

"Are you even sure she's a girl?" I inquire.

"No, the note didn't say and I wouldn't know," he replies. The poor guy was worse off than I thought. Noticing the milk was the perfect temp, I hand the baby to Jace, as he looks at her like a ticking bomb. I chuckle as I grab one of Max's spare sippy cups and poor the milk into it.

I grab the baby again and return to the living room, Jace trailing behind me. We sit on the couch side by side and Jace watches in fascination as I lay his baby across my arm, sitting her up just slightly as she latches onto the bottle, drinking hungrily.

She finishes it soon and I sit her up to burp her. When she lets out a small burp, giggling a little, I hand the happy baby back to Jace. Now the she is content and slightly sleepy looking, Jace looks much more comfortable holding her, even cradling her to his chest as I had done earlier. I feel my affections for the clueless, but trying, man in front of me grow.

"Well, I guess we should go shopping. Get her the essentials you know?" he suddenly says, standing and walking to the door. I nod, grabbing my bag from its respected hook and exit my apartment, locking the door.

Jace

Watching Clary care for the baby made me see her in a whole new light, a flattering one. She looked like she was made to do this, so natural and calm. We are currently in a baby store only a few blocks from our apartment.

I'm currently pushing the cart with the baby in the baby basket, securely strapped in, playing happily with a stuffed bear Clary had grabbed her. Fully trusting the ginger angel, I simply follow her around as she tosses bottles, formula, and a bunch of other items into the basket. Money was not object in my life, being the CEO of my father's company, I didn't bat an eye at the tag of the items the piled up.

We even picked out a crib, changing table and stroller that would be arriving at the building before we even got back. Just as Clary was deciding which diapers to grab, a woman approached us. She looked to be older, small blue outfits in her hand, perhaps for a grandchild.

"Oh, what a beautiful baby," she cooed, as the baby looked up at her with big golden eyes.

"Thank you," I replied, smiling.

"How old is she?" the woman asked. I suppose she is a girl, everyone seems to think so.

"Three months," I reply, thinking of a little girl name to say if she asks.

"And what's her name?" Bingo. Why are people so damn nosey?

"Ezra," I reply, thinking of my mom's middle name. A name so rarely heard or used, but so beautiful.

"That's beautiful and unique," the woman smiled just as Clary comes up and drops the diapers into the basket.

"Oh sweetie, you look wonderful! Three months and you've already lost all the baby fat, miraculous!" she smiles at a confused Clary. My own cheeks go red, throat dry as Clary realizes what she means and begins to laugh.

"Yeah, miraculous. All my friends are so jealous," she laughs, looking at me, rather amused.

"I'll bet. I hope you're little girl has your gorgeous red hair. Hair like that and those eyes, dad is going to be fighting all the boys off," she laughs, "well, have a wonderful day and God bless little Ezra," then she's gone, leaving me flushed and Clary bursting with barely held giggles.

"So, you named our baby without my permission," she teases, poking me in the chest.

"She needed a name sometime, if she's even a girl," I whisper the last part. Clary rolls her eyes and unstraps Ezra.

"Well, let's go find out," she announces, opening the diaper pack and grabbing the wipes before disappearing into the ladies room. I drag the cart over and wait patiently outside the door for Clary. When she finally does come out, she looks surprised.

"Well, your little boy, is going to need a new name," she tells him as she walks off, the little boy giggling in her arms and Jace smirks. He could handle a boy, his boy better than a little girl. Than he just about had a meltdown in the middle of the store. He had a son, his son. He was a father to a little boy that irrefutably looked just as he had as a baby. Angelic in a way he looked feminine until he grew into himself and became a very handsome boy.

He raced off after Clary who he found picking our boy clothes now, not even sparing a glance at the dresses and pink bows. She grabs a few items before declaring we are ready and walking with me to the checkout lane.

Clary

The little boy fell asleep on me, and it was the best thing in the world. I had gone with Jace to his apartment so we could drop off all the stuff and get his baby boy washed up and fed again. Bath time had been quite entertaining, with Jace attempting it on his own, placing his son in the kitchen sink. He eventually let me take over and simply attempted to style the wisps of already golden hair his son had as the baby in question splashed about, excited to be surrounded by bubbles.

After, I had dressed him up in one of the soft blue onesies I had bought earlier today while Jace made his very first bottle after I told him the directions which he listened to intently. After the little boy had drunk himself into sleep, on my lap, Jace had showed me the letter his son had been delivered with. I don't understand how a woman could leave her baby out in the hall, claiming she hadn't connected with him. How could anyone not love this little bundle of giggles and big, beautiful eyes? He was the happiest baby she'd ever seen.

Now, she and Jace were sitting on his couch, thinking of baby names.

"He needs a name that will catch the ladies," Jace persisted, rubbing his son's back tenderly, opposite of his devilish smile and blazing eyes. I rolled my own, smiling.

"Okay, how about Ace?"

"Clary, he's not a card," Jace frowned.

"Jake," I suggested.

"That the name of an ass. It needs to be cool but not classic bad boy," he says, thinking really hard about this.

"Don't hurt yourself," I mutter. He turns and looks at me slowly.

"Was that a blond joke?" he asks, thoroughly offended.

"Maybe," I smirk cheekily.

"You're lucky you're holding a baby, or else you'd get it," he replies, wiggling his fingers near my sides, as if he's about to tickle me.

"Yeah, sure," I scoff, "anyways. What about Leo? It's mysterious, but has a sweet side," I tell him, thinking dreamily of my favorite name of all time.

"Hmm, I like it," he admits, "but what embarrassing nicknames can we give him from that? You know, the one we use when his friends are around when he's being a douche to embarrass him?" Jace asks innocently. I just blink at him in disbelief.

"Leo it is," I shake my head, "We can just do the usual for embarrassing nicknames. Pumpkin, cupcake, sweetie, whatever," I reply.

"Those are nicknames the mom uses. The only embarrassed one would be me if I said any of those," Jace replied.

"Fine, how about Will? We could call him Willy-boy or something?" I offer.

"PERFECT!" Jace exclaims, rubbing his hands together diabolically, laughing to himself.

"Good, case settled, Jace, meet your son William," I say tiredly.

"Nice to meet such a dashing baby," he replies coyly. I simply laugh at how goofy Jace is.

Jace

Clary fell asleep. It was midnight and we had been talking about everything and anything. The truth was, before today, I didn't even know her favorite color, which is green. Not the neon green, but a rich emerald. I realized that she wasn't just beautiful, but smart and ambitious and pretty damn funny. And she already loved Will. She didn't put him down all day, even when he woke up in a rather sour mood. That didn't faze her though. Within minutes, she had him giggling heavily and snuggling deeper into her neck. It made her all the more beautiful in my eyes.

Currently, she was lying on my couch, Will already in the crib that had been delivered earlier today and we had assembled in my room, right next to my bed.

"Clary," I whispered, rubbing down her arm. She stirred lightly and sighed softly, "do you want to just stay the night and go home in the morning?"

"How about I go home and come back in the morning. I'll show you how to change Will," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

"Okay," I whispered back. She stood, collecting her jacket and shoes.

"I have a spare key under the mat," I tell her as we walk to the front door.

"How original," she teased, laughing. I laughed back. I choked on my laughter as she wraps me in her arms, hugging me close, "see you tomorrow,' she says sleepily, and then she's gone, walking barefoot across the hall into the waiting elevator, waving a little before he doors closed.

I go back into my apartment and head to my room, taking a moment to look at Will. I was scared as hell. I was under the delusion that Clary would be here every day to help me survive this when even Aline wasn't. But I did know that I wouldn't abandon Will. As abrupt as he came into my life, it was clear to see he was my son, and if there was one thing a Wayland didn't do, it was abandon their own. I supposed that's why my mother wasn't a Wayland.