Bonjour, peoples! I am here with a new story for Clary and Jace. I actually read City of Bones in one sitting (5 hours, I think) and absolutely fell in love with these two. I NEEDED to satiate my thirst for more of them, so decided to just write my own story.

Here are some things that are special to this story:

- Jace, Alec and Isabelle ARE all shadowhunters, but what's different is that Clary is a normal girl who doesn't know what's going on.

- Shadowhunting for them is not against demons, but evil people. Therefore they're like agents, not really monster hunters. I call them ShadowAgents. They can still do a bit of magic, but not to the extent that they do in the MI series.

- Jace, Alec and Isabelle are assigned to Clary as a job to protect her. The Clave has notified the dream team that Clary is in need of protection.

- Jace isn't the big player that he is thought to be. I've characterized him as a…douchy and cocky, yet sensitive guy. I hope you'll like him…

- Jace's parents died three months before this story takes place. They died tragically on duty and Jace is having a tough time dealing with it. (I've made his last name Herondale, because I kinda already knows what happens later on, hehe.)

- Hodge isn't actually the evil douchebag he was in COB. He's a genuine guy in my story (ALTHOUGH HE DESERVES TO ROT WITH THE DEMON OF ASSHATS)

Just a note, I have a general outline of the story in my head, but I have no idea where it's gonna go. Just gonna let my creative juices flow! (Ha, that rhymed. Maybe that's a good sign…) Anyways, I hope you like it! REVIEWS PLEASE!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Cassandra Clare is the ruler of the universe of MI. But I'm thinking about staging a military coup sometime soon...

Synopsis: When the Clave mysteriously notifies Jace, Alec, and Isabelle that a certain red-headed Mundie is in need of some anonymous protection, they are thrust into the life of Clary Fray, leading them to close calls with an unexpectedly dangerous enemy, new friends, and romance. CLACE,SIMABELLE, ALECUS


Punch, punch, kick, duck. Punch, punch, kick, duck. Punch, kick-

He smirked as his leg connected with skin. Alec fell to the ground with a thud.

"Agh, damn you," Alec groaned. Jace just laughed and offered his hand to his friend.

"You can't let familiarity get your guard down. A five-year-old could've recognized that pattern," Jace said. Alec glared at him.

"Well, sorry. I wasn't aware that my talents were reduced to less than one of a kindergartener's." Alec put his fist against his palm and bowed mockingly.

"I apologize, master." Jace just slapped his back. Training and sparring with Alec had always been a good way for him to relax. He got to spend quality time with his best friend, and plus, what better way to relieve stress than to take it out on a real, live and willing human being? Alec pushed his shoulder.

"C'mon, man, let's go again. I know I can beat you this time." Jace scoffed.

"Alec, you say that every time we spar, which is…everyday, and you have yet to even get me off my feet." Alec's eyes darkened.

"One day, I'm gonna find your weakness. I swear, Jace, I will get you." Jace laughed and Alec joined in. Honestly, only Alec could get away with threatening him like that. He was like his brother.

Three distant chimes interrupted their conversation. The two boys looked quizzically at each other. The chimes meant Hodge was calling for someone. One chime meant Alec, two meant Isabelle, and three meant Jace.

"What the hell? Why does he need me? He never calls us on Saturdays," Jace asked. Alec just shrugged.

"I don't know, man, but I guess it means it's that more important." Jace grabbed his gloves and his towel.

"Alright, then I'll see you later, Alec. Better luck next time, loser," he called behind his shoulder. He could practically hear Alec fuming. Jace chuckled. He wasn't really a genuine asshole, he just did it to annoy people. So yeah, he was a genuine asshole.

Alec walked briskly to Hodge's office, wondering why he was called. Did he do something wrong? Or maybe he did something so damn good he was getting a reward? Well, whatever it was, it was important. He knocked on the large oak door.

"Come in," a voice rang from inside. Jace pushed the giant door open and glanced inside. Hodge was sitting at his desk, scattered papers surrounding him like…well, scattered papers. He peered over his half-moon glasses at Jace and motioned for him to sit down. Jace quickly obliged, considering the fact that he had worked out for the past three hours and was in need of some rest.

Hodge gazed at him with sad eyes and set his glasses down on the table. He gave Jace a small smile.

"How are you, my boy?" Jace just shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. But I doubt you called me on a Saturday just to ask me how I was doing." Hodge chuckled.

"You're quite right, Jace, and I apologize for calling you on your weekend. I know you like to spend your time doing what you want." Jace was taken aback. Hodge was rarely this soft and…hell, he was never soft, period. He knew Hodge meant well all the time, but he tended to be more cold and punctuated than this.

"Uh, no, it's cool, Hodge," Jace said. Damn, something must really be wrong for him to be this nice. Hodge sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"So I'll just get to the point. I know you don't like it when people dance around the subject." Jace nodded. Jace had little patience for bullshit.

"Well, you see. Umm-" Jace felt the anticipation build up.

"It's your parents. I have something for you. From them."

Jace froze.

"Jace, I know you. When you sense hurt, pain and discomfort, you shy away. You run and hide from it. You think I didn't notice that you threw yourself into nearly endless exercise and training after they-, " Hodge gulped, "died?" Jace flinched as if he had been slapped. Hodge instantly softened.

"I'm sorry, Jace. I really am." Jace looked down and only nodded.

"So about this box," Hodge continued, clearing his throat, "they left it for you." Jace's head snapped up.

"I thought everything went down in the fire." Jace's voice cracked at the last word.

Fire. Something so destructive and goddamn cruel. It was what killed his parents, his home, all his memories. So what if his parents had been seasoned agents with over 25 years of training and experience. One freaking fire was enough to take them down for good. Jace felt the familiar sting of tears nag at the back of his eyes. He couldn't even look straight at a damn candle anymore. It made him want to throw up.

"No, this wasn't in the house. They gave this to me. Just in case something," Hodge looked down, "happened to them." Hodge brought out a small wooden box from his drawer. It was slightly smaller than a shoe box, but was carved out of a smooth, light wood. Two large letters, JH, were intricately engraved on the cover.

"My initials," Jace whispered. Hodge slid the box across the desk and Jace went to reach for it. It was surprisingly heavy, which meant there was stuff inside. Jace fingered the cover, tracing the beautifully carved letters. Two drops of water fell onto it, instantly making two small stains. Jace didn't realize he had been crying. He quickly wiped his eyes, ashamed of his public display of sissyness.

Hodge just frowned.

"Jace, it's okay to cry. I keep telling you it's not good to-"

"What? Hide my feelings? Would you rather I wallow in self-pity and misery all the time? I'm not a baby, Hodge. I can handle myself," Jace snapped. But he instantly regretted it. Hodge had been nothing but nice to him and he had gone and thrown it back at his face. Hodge's eyes drooped a little with sadness.

"You're right, my boy. You're right." Hodge sighed. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Jace quickly cleared his throat.

"So, if you'll uh excuse me, I'll be going…" Jace slowly got up to leave. Hodge gave him a little smile and nodded. Damn, he looks worn out, he thought. He walked to the door and opened it, but before stepping out, he turned back to Hodge.

"Thank you, Hodge. For the box, I mean. Thanks. A lot." Hodge smiled. A real smile this time.

"Any time."


Jace made his way to his room slowly, fully aware of the new weight that was in his hands.

It was a box. From his parents.

He felt the sting of tears again. He muttered a few curses and wiped his eyes again. I'm turning into Alec with all this crying. He laughed to himself at his little joke.

He finally made it to his room and opened the door quietly. He threw everything down on the floor and sat on his bed with the box on his lap.

He wanted to open it. But he didn't think he could. Sighing, he put the box down on his nightstand and laid down with his hand under his head. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about them. How the night they died, he had received only a phone call. How he had dropped the receiver when the cold, distant voice on the other end had told him his parents had tragically passed in a fire. How they didn't know how something like that could possibly happen and that they would get to the bottom of it. How he had retreated into himself for weeks afterwards, not eating or talking to anyone.

How he missed them.

His parents had been dubbed the "Herondale Heroes." They were the most seasoned and experienced people in the field. How ironic was it that they were brought down by a stupid fire? All that training, hard work, and near-death experiences for nothing.

Jace no longer felt like crying. He felt like punching down the Empire State Building and then taking down the George Washington Bridge. He probably could if he wanted to. But all he wanted to do now was sleep.

He turned to his side,…

only to see the box sitting right in front of him.

He needed to open it. But he didn't know if he could handle what was inside. What if it was some huge, life-changing secret? Or worse: something sentimental. A.k.a. something he knew would make him bawl like a baby for sure.

He refused to open it.

But he still found himself staring at it. He found his hands reaching over and retrieving the box, fingering the soft cover with his initials engraved into it. He found himself grasping the cold, metal latch and opening it. He slowly lifted the top.

He felt his heart drop.

There, right in front of his eyes, was a picture of him and his parents. Smiling, hugging, and just being happy. It had been two years ago on Christmas. There was snow on the ground and everyone was wrapped up in giant coats and scarves. Realizing that his eyes were tearing, he cleared his throat and furiously wiped his eyes. No crying. What are you, two? He looked back down at the picture. His father's arm was around his shoulders, their matching blonde hair matted with ice and snow. Jace was holding his mom with his other arm, her head resting on his shoulder. They looked like a family.

But now they were broken. Taken away from him. He was the lone piece in a lost puzzle.

He set the photo down on his nightstand, leaning it against the small lamp. Right where he could see it every morning when he woke up and every night before he could go to sleep. Because honestly? He had no pictures of them. They were agents. No traces, no bread crumbs, no nothing. This was the only link he had to them.

He looked back into the box. In it was a small sketchbook the size of his forearm. Taped on the cover was a small note. He recognized the handwriting. It was his mom's.

Jace, it read,

If you're reading this, it means that we have left you. I'm sorry, darling, that it had to be like this. Always remember that your father and I love you. That you were what we did everything for. You were the light of our lives. But don't worry about us. Take care of yourself and move on, because we know you'll do great things.

We left you a few things. Presents, if you may. The sketchbook you see in front of you is actually an enchanted one. If you use the stylata, or enchanted pen, that it's paired with, you'll find you can do some interesting things with it. Also, we gave you a ring. It's a protection ring. As long as you're wearing it, no magic can harm you. But be careful, it's extremely valuable so guard it wisely. And I'm sure you've seen the picture I left. I've carried around this photo with me for the past year on my missions. It's been a good luck charm, but after your 16th birthday, I retired it and kept it so I could give it to you.

We love you, Jace. We always will.

Love, Mom and Pop

P.S. Son, it's Pops. Your mother is right. We will always love you. And remember that we will always be proud of you no matter what. Trust your heart and use it wisely. Pops, out.

Jace couldn't help but laugh a little. Even through this little note he could hear their voices. He let out a choked sob that he didn't know he was holding back. He recomposed himself and looked back into the box. In it was the special pad and pen they mentioned, which he left on his night table. He found the ring, too. It was of medium-width and neutral. It wasn't feminine, but it wasn't masculine either. He slipped it onto his finger. He would wear it as a memory of them.

He sighed. As he went to close the lid on the box, something caught his eye. Another engraving on the back cover of the lid. He turned the box to read it.

The key is in your heart.

Jace chuckled. Leave it to his parents to be corny and cheesy even after they died.

Jace cringed. He hated that word.

He decided to hide the box under his bed. He didn't want just anyone to see it. He lied back down in bed and decided to check out the special sketchbook. He took the pen and examined it. It looked like one of those old-fashioned fountain pens. He gripped it in his hand and began to doodle absentmindedly. He found himself drawing food. A huge hamburger with fries. He was a teenage guy and he was hungry, can you blame him?

It looks pretty good, he admitted to himself, nodding in approval. He began to dot the sesame seeds into the bun when he caught a whiff of something in the air. Was it...

Hamburgers? He was taken aback. No way Isabelle could pull off a delicious scent like that for dinner. He whiffed the air, ultimately look down.

Right at a steaming plate filled with fries and a huge hamburger.

Jace almost leapt out of the bed, but the keyword is almost. That would've sacrificed the beautiful dinner he had in front of him. Where the hell did this come from? He though explosively. He looked down at the pad and pen that was now lying on the floor.

The page was blank.

His drawing of a hamburger and fries hadmaterialized in front of him. "You'll find you can do some interesting things with it." He remember his mom's note. Wow, no shit, mom.

He looked at the hamburger again and shrugged. Eh, what the hell.

He had just discovered the magical powers of an incredible sketchbook and magic pen, but first, he wanted to eat the hamburger in front of him. He sat on the ground and devoured it within ten minutes, fries and all. He lied flat afterwards and burped deeply. That was a damn good hamburger.

There was a sudden knock on his door. He instantly sat up. He pushed the empty plate and the sketchbook under his bed.

"Come in," he said. Isabelle poked her head in. She must've caught a whiff of the burger because her nose crinkled up.

"Ew, gross, your room smells like grease and fat," she said. He rolled his eyes.

"Which is the definition of every teenage boy's diet. Whaddya want, Izzy?" he said, picking lint off his shirt. She just shook her head.

"Hodge called an emergency meeting. Something about a new assignment," she said, with an excited sparkle in her eye. He shot up and discreetly brushed the crumbs off his shirt.

"Alright, let's go then." He walked past her, out the door and made his way to Hodge's office again. She caught the scent of his secret dinner as he walked out.

"Ugh, once again, you smell like McDonald's threw up on you."


Reviews are better than watching a half-naked Jace working out.

But just barely.