A/N: Hey, guys. I'm writing this lovely Mortal Instruments story mostly for my friend Hannah, and I. Which is why our names are the same. I needed a place to post it, and I could also always use constructive criticism anyhow. So, if you don't mind the blatant self-insertion, feel free to read. Thanks!
Any of you who also read my Marauders Fic, please vote in the poll on my page!
xoxo
-Katy
The lights in the training room were dim. Soft music played from the stereo, sounding very alike to something found on a Fung-Shui CD. The girl sat on the yoga mat, slowly inhaling and exhaling, her eyes lidded. She carefully leaned forward, placing her arms out in front of her, transferring her weight onto them. She lifted one leg in the air, and began to raise the other. She exhaled, breathing somewhat shallowly, her medium caramel-brown hair falling from behind her shoulders.
The lights suddenly turned on full brightness, and the music changed. It blasted heavy metal music, scaring the daylights out of the girl. With a shriek, she tumbled awkwardly from her handstand. She fell into a pale lump of arms and legs on the red yoga mat. She lifted her head, hair in her eyes to see who she was about to mercilessly kill.
"JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER WAYLAND!" she shrieked at the intruder. Jace leaned against the table where the stereo sat casually as ever, as though he was born to do it.
"Did I ever mention how much I love how excited you get when you greet me?" he asked, his voice drawling with sarcasm. The girl stood up, snatching her water bottle and lobbing it at his head. Jace caught it with ease, uncapped it, and took a swig, "Thanks, Katy. I was thirsty anyhow." The short girl, now known as Katy, rolled her eyes. She turned away from him, nursing her shoulder.
"Dick."
"Well done! You know the name of male genitalia. I'm proud of you." Jace applauded lazily. Katy didn't have the energy for his sarcasm at the moment.
"Did you actually need something, or did you just want to get your daily requirements of schadenfreude out of me?" she asked him. Jace smirked,
"Well, I mostly came to tell you that Isabelle's trying to cook again, and the rest of the New York Institute would appreciate it if you actually made edible food for us to consume. But, now that you mention the latter, I suppose it's killing two birds with one stone." Katy nodded, not bothering to throw a sweatshirt on over her sports bra. She just didn't care.
"Where's Hana?" she asked Jace, putting her hair up in a ponytail. He shrugged.
"Last time I checked, she was working on archery with Alec."
Katy pulled her pink fuzzy socks on, while Jace gave a skeptical look at the socks. She quirked her eyebrow at him.
"What?"
"They're pink and fuzzy. You hate pink and fuzzy. You are the anti-pink-and-fuzzy," he reminded her. She stood up, her full height just barely reaching his shoulder.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. I am the anti-pink, you dolt. Get it right."
"My deepest apologies for not memorizing your likes and dislikes." Jace snorted.
"What, like you make everyone else do?" Katy countered. He held up his hand,
"That's different. I'm devilishly handsome, therefore people are more willing to memorize my likes and dislikes."
If it were anybody else, Katy would have sarcastically noted how modest he was, and told him to go screw himself. However, she'd known Jace for a good ten years now. She remembered Hodge introducing her to the three toddlers staying at the Institute already when she left Idris.
"Isabelle, Jonathan, Alexander, this is Kathryn Archallow. She's going to be staying with us for a while. Her cousin, Hana, will be here next week."
"No!" Katy had snapped, "It's not Kathryn, it's Katy. No one calls me Kathryn!"
"Kathryn," Jace said, a smug grin on his face, "I'll call you Kathryn."
"No!" She stomped over to Jace, and pointed her finger in his face, attempting to seem threatening. Jace only laughed derisively.
"You can't scare me, shrimp."
"I'm not a shrimp!"
Wow, I was a brat back then, Katy thought to herself. Jace snapped his fingers in front of Katy's face. She shook herself out of her reverie.
"Look, I know my abs are fabulous and day-dreaming about them is flattering, but after a while it just gets annoying when you're trying to have a decent conversation," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes once more and pushed open the doors to the kitchen,
"Do you want dinner, or not?" Jace decided it was better to have edible food for tonight than continue to pester her like he enjoys doing.
"Call me when it's ready." he told her.
The arrow struck straight into the center of the paper bulls-eye nailed to the tree a hundred feet away. Hana applauded Alec, who only offered a small smile.
"Thanks," he said quietly, "your turn." Hana nodded, and picked up her bow. She knocked the arrow, staring at the target on the tree fifty feet away.
"Back straight," Alec reminded her. Hana straightened her back and Alec neared her. He continued quietly, "Focus. Exhale slowly, and fire." Hana released the arrow, and it shot through the air, hitting slightly off in the bulls-eye, but still very good. Alec applauded, and Hana curtsied.
"Not as good as you are, but I'm getting there."
"You're also three years younger than me, Hana. You have more time to improve. However, that time isn't now. It's time to eat, and I am pretty hungry."
Hana's face fell, her hazel eyes filling with horror.
"Izzy isn't cooking, is she?"
Alec snorted, "No. I texted her and told her I wanted to cook tonight, but we both know Katy is going to end up doing it anyway." Hana blew out a breath of relief. She did actually want to eat something she wouldn't have trouble keeping down later on. She fitted her bow over her shoulder and followed Alec out of the shooting range, trudging to the street to hail a cab. "Scarf, Hana," he pointed at the undone scarf that hung openly, revealing more of her rune. Hana quickly crossed one section of the dark material over the other, effectively hiding the rune from sight.
"Thanks."
Alec said nothing as the cab pulled up to the two Shadowhunters.
Isabelle entered the kitchen a smile on her face.
"I smell garlic bread," she announced in sing-song.
"I'm glad your nose works," Katy mused as she stirred the tomato sauce that simmered in the pot on the stove. Isabelle reached for a piece of garlic bread. "Careful, it's hot," Katy warned. Isabelle dismissed her with a wave of her hand and bit into the bread. She made muffled noises of shock, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Mmph!"
"What?"
"'Ot!"
"What?"
"Iz hot!"
"Thought so," Katy said smugly. Isabelle swallowed the hot piece, and went to get a glass of cold water to nurse her sore throat.
A few minutes later Katy had taken the sauce off the stove and poured it over the finished pasta. Before she could even consider complimenting her dish, Jace entered the kitchen. He was fully-armed, and that only meant one thing. What was odd was that Jace wasn't wearing his usual gear. He looked like he was ready to go clubbing
"Dinner is going to have to hold off for an hour or so, kiddies. We have a demon to hunt." Without a word of complaint or annoyance, Isabelle already reached to tie up her hair. Jace held his hand up. "Wait. No gear tonight. We need to blend in with the crowd, and dress like hooligans."
Isabelle released her wave of trailing black hair and quirked her eyebrow.
"So, where are we going, exactly?" Jace reached out to the cooling garlic bread slices, snatched one, and took a bite.
"Pandemonium Night Club. Ow—hot!"
