DISCLAIMER: I, unfortunately, do not own The Mortal Instruments...they still belong to Cassandra Clare. (Even though I've wished on shooting stars, eyelashes, AND 11:11)
This is just the beginning...a bit of fluff; Magnus is throwing a party (surprise, surprise.)

Putting down the dress she was holding, Clary sighed and turned to face Isabelle.

"Iz, can't I just wear that outfit I had on at Magnus's first party?" she asked somewhat desperately.

"No, Clary, and it is because I love you that I refuse to let you wear a recycled outfit," Isabelle retorted snappishly. Isabelle was ready to go to Magnus's party already, dressed in a sequined tank top and black leather skirt that Clary's mother would never have Clary wear. Then again, Clary thought, her mother hadn't even let her into the Shadowhunter world-that had been chance and insistence on Clary's part.

Isabelle rifled through her closet, frustrated.

"Clary, I don't know what to-ah, never mind. Found it!" Isabelle threw a couple of garments on hangers toward Clary. "Jace is going to love this," she said, shoving Clary towards her bathroom.

Isabelle added a final touch to her outfit (fishnet tights) and waited for Clary to finish getting dressed. It took Clary longer than it should have to get dressed, and eventually Isabelle banged on the bathroom door, impatient.

"You have to come out of the bathroom sometime, Clary," she called. "You'll thank me for this later!"

"I doubt that," said Clary acerbically, pushing open the bathroom door with unnecessary force. Isabelle smiled. "This outfit looks ridiculous on me," Clary protested, yanking down the shirt. Isabelle had dressed her in a tight, shimmery purple top that laced up the back and very flouncy, very short black tulle skirt that, in Clary's opinion, showed far too much skin. Isabelle smirked in response.

"Izzy! I can't possibly go out in this!"
"You're right," Isabelle said, "Put these on as well." She tossed a pair of artfully ripped purple

tights and heeled black boots in Clary's direction. Clary slid them on cautiously. The boots were heavy combat boots that reached mid-calf. She sighed, resigned.

"One of these days, Isabelle…" it was an empty threat, and not even that, really, but Izzy just rolled her eyes and stood Clary in front of her mirror.

"Did you want to finish that threat, or just letting it trail off menacingly?" Isabelle smirked, patting Clary on the head and then pushing her gently into the vanity chair. Clary waited patiently as Isabelle arranged her hair into a voluminous half-up style and smudged glittery black eyeliner around her green eyes. When Isabelle was done, she pulled Clary from the chair, with a "we're-going-to-be-late-can-you-please-hurry-up?" type of look.

The thing that Jace hated most about girls was the infuriatingly long amount of time that they took to get ready. It took him three minutes to throw on an outfit and fix his hair in an accidentally-on-purpose way. But that wasn't to say that a girl's effort was wasted on him; when Clary emerged from Isabelle's room for Magnus's party, she looked amazing. Jace didn't really even want to go to the party anymore; he would have been content to guard the Institute…with Clary…possibly from his bedroom…

Clary, Jace thought, probably wouldn't have minded staying home, judging solely on the way she was looking at him. He gave Clary only a brief kiss before Isabelle pulled them both into the elevator.

"Aren't we waiting for Alec?" Clary asked.
Jace smirked, and Isabelle said, "He's been at Magnus's apartment all day, helping him get

ready."

"Or something like that," Jace muttered quietly. Isabelle and Clary rolled their eyes, and Jace

took to staring at Clary again. She pulled her short skirt down uncomfortably.

The walk to Magnus's place was not a long one, but Clary's boots were already growing uncomfortable by the time they reached the doorstep.

"Why exactly is Magnus having this party?" Jace asked as the trio climbed up the narrow staircase leading to the party.

"Does Magnus ever really need an excuse to have a party?" Isabelle answered. "This one, actually, is for what happened in Idris last month."

"What, you mean him and Alec, because that's been going on for a wh-" Jace stopped as Isabelle smacked him sharply in the chest.

"No, you know what I mean, Jace," she snapped.

He shrugged and caught at Clary's hand as Isabelle pushed aside the door beads that separated the stairway from the party. When they entered the room, it was mostly occupied by Downworlders. This had been expected, because Magnus was a Downworlder, but Clary, Jace, Isabelle, and Alec, wherever he was, were the only Shadowhunters in the room. They knew that it was only because of Alec that they had been invited. The three made their way across the crowded living-room-slash-dance-floor to find their host. Magnus, as usual, was standing in the middle of the floor. He was wearing what appeared to be a tank top covered in dark blue sequins (somewhat similar to the one Iz was wearing, Clary noted) with a studded, metallic silver leather vest and tight, ripped electric blue jeans. His catlike eyes were coated in their normal amount of glitter and his fingernails and fingers were also covered in glitter. Magnus stopped his conversation with a tall, thin blond man-probably a warlock (and a good looking one at that, thought Isabelle) judging by his catlike eyes (not unlike Magnus's) and the copious amount of glitter that he had on. Jace, Clary, and Isabelle greeted Magnus, who greeted them briefly and turned back to the warlock he had been talking to.

Isabelle soon located Simon in a throng of vampires and they were lost on the dance floor within minutes. Clary sat down at Magnus's makeshift bar and waited for Jace, who said he needed to use the bathroom. She found herself next to Alec, who was dressed in what appeared to be a new outfit. The dark blue V-neck shirt that he was wearing hugged his lean frame in a much more flattering way than his usual ancient sweater did and set off his deep blue eyes. Even Alec's jeans appeared new, hanging on him in a way that made Clary think that he had bothered to try the jeans on before buying them.

"Hi, Clary," he said, sounding rather sullen.

"Hi Alec," Clary greeted him back. The bartender, who Clary thought might be a Fey, set a drink down in front of her. "What's wrong?" Alec shook his head, not really wanting to discuss whatever it was.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Alec suddenly asked, "Are there no straight warlocks anywhere?" The sudden outburst surprised Clary, who did not know what to say.

"Well, they all seem to like glitter quite a bit," she answered finally.

Alec grinned apologetically, something of a rare gesture. "Yeah, and the glitter gets everywhere. It sticks to everything, too. I've found it in my-" he said absently. "Um, never mind. That's beside the point. I'm sorry, Clary," he said sheepishly. "I'm not usually like this…" he trailed off, sitting up in his seat to look for what Clary could only imagine to be Magnus.

"Relationship trouble?" Clary guessed.

"Something like that. It's just…Magnus's friend came in today. He's a warlock. That blond one he's talking to-his name is Farek Meld, I think. Anyways, since he got here, Magnus hasn't left his side, and he's all over Magnus." Alec pouted a little. Clary felt bad, understanding Alec's jealousy. Farek Meld had probably known Magnus a lot longer than Alec had, and his return couldn't have been easy for Alec. "I even dressed up," Alec added, blushing faintly.

"It suits you," Clary said honestly. "You should try it more often." This made Alec blush even more. "Now come dance with me." Clary pulled Alec up from his seat at the bar (where she suspected he had been sitting for a little too long, anyways) and dragged him, protesting, onto the dance floor. Clary danced (mostly jumping up and down to the beat of the techno-pop dance mix playing) and Alec sort of bobbed up and down. Jace was nowhere to be found, making Clary suspicious that he was vandalizing vampire motorcycles again, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Alec was just being taught how to properly dance (or jump up and down) by Clary when a slow song came on. After the collective groan from the crowd, there was a mass shuffle to find a partner.

"Alec, go," whispered Clary. She pushed him toward the center of the dance floor, where Magnus had been earlier. Alec froze, but Clary walked behind him, keeping her small hand on his back and steering him toward his boyfriend. She was surprisingly forceful for such a little thing, Alec thought. When they got to the middle, Magnus was absolutely there. He was there with Farek. They weren't dancing, but it was evident that Magnus was very worked up about something. Whenever Magnus was agitated, little blue sparks would fly from his fingertips, and the sparks were going in full force at the moment.

Just as Alec was about to cross the last five steps to Magnus, Farek Meld bowed his head and kissed Magnus. Alec stopped abruptly and turned back to Clary, his heart thrumming out wild rhythms in his chest. What Alec didn't see was Magnus pushing Farek away. He didn't see Magnus patiently explain that he already had a boyfriend.

He didn't see Magnus looking for him. But Clary did.