Hello again! As promised, here's my new story! In this fic we'll be following Agent Alec Lightwood and conman Magnus Bane through their adventures, so I really hope you enjoy it! As per usual, the new chapters will be up every Friday around the same time. Also, for the sake of the plot and to add a bit of sweetness to the story, Max will be just a kid, even when all the other characters are grown adults (past 25), so bear with me, okay? All ages and other details will be revealed through the chapters ;)

Anyway, I hope you like it and please let me know your thoughts! This is a very long story, so buckle up because we are just starting! See you all next Friday with a new chapter!

BTW, the summary is much longer, but FF made me shorten it, so here it is in case you want to read it: Special Agent Alec Lightwood's been chasing the renowned thief and conman extraordinaire Magnus Bane for five years now. When a criminal from the past, Valentine Morgenstern, threatens their city and both their reputations, the duo will have to do the unimaginable and team up to restore the peace in the big old city. Between secrets, betrayals, heartbreaking truths, and sick games, Alec and Magnus will have to learn to play between the lines of good and evil in order to carry out their mission and make it out alive. Will they succeed?

Chapter 1

Alec slowed down and pulled over to the side of the narrow street, just a block behind the crime scene. His partner and adoptive brother, Agent Jace Lightwood, immediately got out of the car as several agents of their team and the police department rushed to give them the latest information they had on the case. Alec and Jace were two of the best agents of the Bureau, them and their team were considered the best of the best in the New York City White-Collar crime division.

"What do we have here?" Alec asked, getting out of the car too and joining them.

They were outside the New York City Museum of Modern Art commonly known as MoMA. The streets had been cleared and there were members of the FBI and the NYPD safeguarding the area. According to the first police report they had received in the morning, there had been a robbery in one of the rooms used for temporary exhibitions.

"Bane." Special Agent Isabelle Lightwood, Alec and Jace's sister, and the most valuable member of their team, said as a matter of explanation.

"Again?" Alec wondered a little confused. This was the second time this month that Magnus Bane, renowned thief and conman extraordinaire, committed one of his heists—and that was something quite unusual. His MO wasn't like that, Bane generally struck once or twice every few months to mislead the police about his whereabouts, never twice during the same month.

Alec knew this well enough because he had been chasing Bane for five years now. It had been the first case that the Bureau had assigned him when he had joined their ranks and since then, catching him and making him pay for his crimes had become Alec's sole purpose.

"Yes," Izzy, as they called her for short, said, "I found glitter all over the place."

Glitter was Bane's signature. Whenever he committed a crime, he left a trail of glitter as a way to mark his work. Before Alec knew who he was dealing with, he used to call the mysterious thief Tinkerbell—due to the similarity between glitter and fairy dust. That obviously changed when he finally learned his real name, but even to this day, Alec couldn't understand why this man loved glitter so much. It was flashy, hard to clean, and if he was completely honest, a bit childish.

"What did he take this time?" Jace asked.

"A very valuable painting...that's why they called us." Izzy informed them. "The museum doesn't want to make a big show out of this, it could ruin their reputation."

"Kind of a tall order in this city, don't you think?" Alec said sarcastically, looking around the museum.

New Yorkers and tourists alike were already gathering behind the police line, trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened inside one of the most famous museums in all New York. Alec knew that the news about the robbery would spread like wildfire in a matter of seconds.

"That's exactly what I told them." Izzy said. "But anyway, our team is already scanning the room to see if we can find something, but as per usual, the place seems clean. I don't think we can find any trace that leads us to catch him."

Alec sighed. That had always been a problem when it came to trying to catch Magnus Bane. His work was always impeccable. He never left a trace except for his idiotic glitter.

"What was the exhibition about?" Alec asked, as they crossed the police line and made their way inside the museum.

"Jackson Pollock's best work." Izzy said. "They were hosting a temporary exhibition."

Alec took a deep breath—another art robbery. He couldn't say he was surprised. Magnus Bane had a soft spot for the arts. Paintings, sculptures, bonds...you name it. If it had history behind, was pretty, and was worth a couple of million dollars, then he would try to steal it. "Well, let's get to work." He said, reaching the exhibition room and looking around.

Even from the entrance, the crime scene had Bane's name written all over it. Not because you could guess what had happened there, but exactly because you couldn't. That was how impeccable Magnus's work was. If you didn't know something was missing, you wouldn't even notice its absence, and sometimes, just sometimes, Alec considered that a form of art in itself.

"What's the painting that he took?" Alec asked.

"It's called Lucifer. It's an oil, enamel and aluminum paint on canvas from 1947." Izzy said.

"Wait." Jace said. "You said Jackson Pollock, right? Aren't his paintings like super big?"

"How do you know that?" Alec inquired. It was not as if his brother were very interested in art. It was pretty safe to say that he had...other interests.

"Clary." Jace said as a matter of explanation. Clary Fray was Jace's girlfriend, and as far as Alec knew she was some kind of artist. He didn't know her that well, but he remembered his brother saying something about an art exhibition once.

"I thought that you ignored her every time she talked about art." Izzy said, mocking their brother.

"Well, believe it or not, when she's talking her art gibberish sometimes I do pay attention. Not all the time, but I'm not a shitty boyfriend. In fact, I'm almost certain that if you asked her, she would say that I'm the best boyfriend in the whole world."

Alec ignored his siblings' conversation. "How big is the painting?" He asked instead.

"Hmmm," Izzy flipped through her papers, "according to what the museum gave us 41" x 8' 9 1/2", so it's around 104.1 x 267.9 centimeters."

"How did he take it without anyone noticing?" Alec questioned. The painting was way too big not to be noticed. He couldn't picture a man carrying a frame of half his size walking around the streets of New York without raising any suspicion.

"He didn't take the frame if that's what you're implying." Izzy said, and Alec frowned. "He left a forgery," Izzy continued, "it's over here...come."

Alec and Jace followed Izzy to the far end of the exhibition room where some agents were looking for fingerprints on a frame that had the alleged forged painting. Alec couldn't tell if it was the original or not, but he didn't doubt that Magnus had left an exact replica. The man, despite how twisted that might sound, was very talented. He had managed to fool them more than once.

"How did they know this wasn't the real painting but a forgery?" Alec asked.

"They have a scan that helps them authenticate the age of the oils—they run it every morning as part of their security protocols. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that this painting has at most three days old." Izzy said.

Alec looked at the painting. He liked art, he wasn't an expert at any level, but he recognized a good work when he saw one. He wasn't very familiar with Pollock's work, but at first glance, this painting looked like nothing but a chaotic mess of blacks, grays, greens, and oranges all mixed together. But when he looked closely he could see how each new layer of dripped color seemed to begin by following the pattern of the previous layer, how the trails of silver and creamy white created a sense of open space, traversed by denser black filaments that established a subliminal but insistent rhythm that stood out by those strands of yellow, orange and green that seemed to come alive across the surface of the canvas. It was a brilliant composition.

"And he just took this one?" Jace asked, making Alec to focus his attention back on the case and away from the painting.

"Yes." Izzy confirmed.

"Well, if he wanted to go big, he should have taken those." Jace pointed to the three monumental paintings that covered the remaining walls of the adjoining room. "Why did he leave those? They are, by far, the most impressive pieces on display, this painting isn't as good as those."

"Maybe they aren't as valuable as they look." Alec suggested, taking a look at the other paintings. They were impressive, yes, but Alec felt his eyes pulled back to the Lucifer one—it was far more interesting, forgery or not. "Izzy, has the museum given you a list of everything on display?"

Izzy shook her head.

"Jace," Alec said, "ask them if they can give you a list with the value of each of the pieces on display, maybe that will help us figure out why he took this particular painting."

"Sure." Jace said, immediately walking away to fetch the list.

"I'll go with you." Izzy said, leaving Alec alone.

Alec seized the moment he had to himself to examine the crime scene with more detail. There were markers above several paintings indicating probable fingerprints or DNA samples, but Alec doubted that these were Magnus's. First, because the man knew how to do his job, not in vain he had been avoiding them for five years now, and second, because this was a very public space and, although it was assumed that people shouldn't touch the exhibits, there was no security whatsoever that prevented them from doing so if they wanted to.

"Did you take a sample of the glitter?" Alec asked a passing-by agent. The Bureau had a collection of Magnus's colorful glitters. This time, they would be adding indigo to their stock.

"Yes, boss. The new CSI girl gave your sister all the details. As far as I know, nothing was found in the preliminary results."

Alec sighed. Of course nothing had been found. "Do we know anything about the security footage?"

"The IT team is currently checking it, boss, but apparently the footage was tampered."

"This guy is getting on my nerves." Alec said more to himself. With every crime Magnus committed, Alec felt more and more frustrated. No matter what he did, he just couldn't catch him. However, he didn't lose hope, he knew that one day in the future his day would come and when that happened, he would be more than happy to escort Magnus to his new home: the supermax prison.

"Take down the frame." Alec ordered his team. "But be careful, we don't want to tamper with the evidence." He said, although he knew that the chances of finding any prints or clues on that frame or on the forged painting were of 1 to 1000, but it was better to be safe than sorry, right? He knew that when he caught Magnus, it would be because of a mistake on his part. Alec just needed to find it.

The agents started to remove the frame from the wall and place it on the floor.

"Boss, there's something in here." Raj, one of the agents, said, grabbing with a pair of tweezers a sealed envelope that appeared to be attached to the back of the frame.

Alec sighed. He already knew what it was. It was another of Magnus's silly postcards. He had been leaving them for Alec since they had met face to face for the first time almost two years ago, when Alec had almost caught him.

That day everything had been pretty normal back in the office. Alec had been sorting through his cases to choose the one they would try to solve next when they had received a tip that Magnus Bane was targeting some new jewelry on the Upper East Side. Alec and his team had immediately made a plan and surrounded the perimeter to catch him red handed, but unfortunately for them, their plan had failed and they had arrived too late. When Alec and his team had rushed into the building, Magnus had already cleared the displays and was on his way to the stairs. In a desperate attempt to fix his mistake, Alec had chased him all the way up to the roof and there had been where they had come face to face for the very first time.

Alec still remembered it as if it had happened just yesterday.

"I've finally caught you." Alec had said, pointing his gun against the criminal to make his point clear. "The building is surrounded."

"No, Alexander, you haven't." Magnus had replied with a smile.

"Agent Lightwood for you."

"That sounds a bit formal, don't you think, dear? It doesn't suit you. What about Agent Pretty Boy, huh? That's better. I have to admit it, it's nice to finally put a face to the name that's been causing me all this headache for three years now. If I'd known a pretty face like yours was the one behind all this mess, I would have considered surrendering myself to the authorities just to get a better look at those eyes. You have pretty eyes, did you know that?"

"Stop talking nonsense and turn around." Alec had instructed him, but to his surprise Magnus had just laughed.

"What makes you think I'm going to do that? You haven't caught me, Alexander, not now, not ever. I'm unstoppable, you won't be able to catch me unless I want you to, which I don't think will happen any time soon—or ever for that matter."

"You're surrounded, Bane. There's no place for you to run. I have agents positioned in the building and around the perimeter, you won't be able to escape this time. This is the end."

"My dear Alexander," Magnus had said with a smile, "you see? That's the problem with your people. You think you can beat someone like me, but that's not possible. You wanna know why? Because for that to happen you'd have to start thinking outside the box and that's not exactly what you all are taught in Quantico, is it?"

"I could shoot you and kill you." Alec had said, putting his finger firmly on the trigger.

"You could, but you won't. That's another feature of your kind: you don't kill innocent people. You better than anyone know that I don't like guns, so naturally, I'm unarmed. You would never shoot a man that can't defend himself, would you?"

"There's no escape."

"Is there not?" Magnus had said, just when a helicopter had approached the building.

"Don't you dare!"

"Now, tell me, Alexander. Am I still surrounded? Do you happen to have agents positioned in the sky as well?"

Alec had cursed in silence because of course he hadn't had agents in the sky, and whether he liked it or not, Magnus was going to escape...again. He could shoot him and put an end to this, but he would never dare to do it when the other man was clearly unarmed. Magnus had been right about that.

"See? Outside the box, Alexander, outside the box." Magnus had said, running to the parapet of the building.

"Why do you do it?" Alec had asked on an impulse. After all, God knew when he would have the chance to cross words with this man again. It could be years before that.

"You want to know why I'm a thief?"

Alec had just nodded.

"Why are you an FBI agent?"

"Because my father is an agent."

"Well, there you go. We already have so much in common."

Alec had frowned with the answer. He hadn't understood if Magnus had tried to say that he was a thief because his father was a thief too, or because he was a federal agent. That last part had been a bit disturbing to think about.

"It was a real pleasure talking to you, but I have to go." Magnus had said. Someone had just dropped a rope from the helicopter. "But don't be so sad, I'll send you a postcard!" He had said and with that had disappeared into thin air.

After that Alec hadn't seen him again.

"Boss." Raj said, snapping Alec out of his thoughts. "I think this is for you again, sir."

Alec sighed because he already knew it was for him. Magnus enjoyed this little postcard game as much as he enjoyed stealing valuable items from museums, if not more.

Alec took a deep breath, put on some gloves and grabbed the envelope. This one, like all the others, was also addressed to Agent Pretty Boy. Alec couldn't properly express how much he hated that nickname, so he just rolled his eyes, opened it and took out the postcard. It was a very pretty picture of the Louvre museum in Paris.

"Dear, Alexander." Alec started to read to himself. "Guess what? You were late again...boomer! I really want to see that lovely face of yours again, but you don't seem to want the same. What a shame! I guess I'll have to wait and see if you have better luck next time. By the way, nice jacket, is it new? Never mind, leather suits you. XOXO M.B. P.S: This is my 13th postcard, did you know that the meaning of the number thirteen is the bonding of many into one? How awesome is that?"

Alec frowned, feeling paranoid for a second. Not because of the 13th postcard thing, but because Magnus somehow knew that he was wearing a leather jacket. Alec usually wore sweaters, black sweaters, but this week he had been wearing a leather jacket that Izzy had given him as a birthday gift.

"He left you another postcard?" Jace asked, making Alec to jump scared.

"Yeah, and I think he's been following me, although I'm not sure when." Alec said, handing over the postcard to Jace so he could read it.

"Well, we already know he fancies you."

"No, he doesn't. He's just playing with me, but it's not going to work. I know better than to fall for this bullshit." Alec said, taking the postcard from Jace's hands and giving it to the nearest agent. "Take this to the labs and see if you can get something, anything from it. I need to catch this guy."

"You know they won't find prints, don't you?"

"I know, but at least I have to try."

Jace nodded. "And now what?"

"Now, we try to see how he managed to pull this off. I swear, Jace, this man is becoming more and more of a headache."

o-o-o-o-o

Magnus took a deep breath and entered his loft. It had been a very long day of hard work—as he called what he did for a living—and he was glad to be back home. His best friend and partner in crime, Ragnor Fell, was already waiting for him there, watching the news and drinking some wine from what Magnus assumed was his very private collection.

"How did it go?" Ragnor asked with a smile. "You made the local news again, my friend. 'Magnus Bane did it again, this time he went against one of the most famous museums in the entire world, the MoMA. The police and the museum have refused to comment on the matter, but we'll keep you updated as new information emerges."

Magnus smiled happy to hear that his feat hadn't gone unnoticed. He couldn't deny that he loved the attention. He was proud of his work, sue him.

"So, where is it?" Ragnor asked.

Magnus took the storage tube where he had hidden the painting and threw it to his friend. Ragnor caught it in the air and opened it, eager to see with his own eyes one of Pollock's best works.

"So I'm assuming that there were no incidents?"

"None whatsoever." Magnus happily informed him. "It was like stealing candy from a baby."

"Curious coming from you, my friend. You would never steal from a baby, not even candy."

"True." Magnus admitted with a smile while he poured himself a glass of wine. After all, it was «his» bottle. "Anyway, what are you doing here drinking my wine? I thought I'd see you until tomorrow."

Ragnor was contemplating the painting, looking at it with awe. "I was worried about you. It's not like this score was easy, it was the MoMA after all—top security museum and all that. But I'm glad that everything went well. You didn't leave the postcard, did you?"

"Of course I did, my dear friend. That's the exciting part about this whole thing."

"I thought it was getting the painting, not wooing the FBI agent."

"That too, but you know I can't help it, this Agent Pretty Boy-"

"-captivated you." Ragnor interrupted him, rolling his eyes. "I know."

"Anyway, have you eaten already? I'm starving, you want me to order something?"

"Don't try to change the subject. You do know that if you keep doing this he's going to realize sooner or later that you're closer than he thinks, don't you?"

"I do, but I don't care...that's what makes this game exciting."

Ragnor just rolled his eyes again.

Magnus knew that his friend was worried about him, and about them by extension. Since Magnus had started this little game with the FBI agent, Ragnor had been warning him about the risks, but Magnus thought his friend worried too much. It had been two years since then, and nothing bad had happened, they were still free and doing whatever the hell they wanted, well, figuratively at least.

"Anyway," Ragnor said, "I guess you know what you're doing. I'm going to call Raphe and see if we can sell this thing quickly."

"Raphe?" Magnus inquired in a mocking tone. "Since when do you call Santiago, Raphe, huh?"

Ragnor just blushed. Raphael Santiago was a mutual friend of them. He was their most valued contact on the black market. The man was the reason why they could sell whatever they stole and the one who helped them obtain illegal stuff for their heists.

"Oh dear God, did you...?" Magnus asked surprised. He knew that his friends were friendly with each other, but he didn't know how much.

"No! Of course not! We're just friends!"

"We're just friends too and you've never given me a cute nickname." Magnus smirked.

"Of course I have...asshole, idiot, dickhead, jerk, you want me to continue?"

Magnus laughed and picked up his cat, Chairman Meow, who had just awakened from his nap. "Don't listen to what your uncle is saying, he's just being mean to daddy, but he loves him even when he doesn't call him cute nicknames." He said, covering the cat's ears.

"It's a cat, Magnus, he doesn't understand a word of what we're saying."

"He's not just a cat, he's my child and you should be more careful with what you say in front of him. I don't want him to grow up traumatized because his uncle can't be careful with his language."

Ragnor just laughed and drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. Magnus sat beside him and they stayed in silence for some time. That was one of the things that Magnus loved about his friendship with Ragnor, they didn't have to be talking to feel comfortable next to one another. Even in silence, they understood each other perfectly.

"With this sale we'll be closer to paying your debt, like for real." Ragnor said, breaking the silence.

Magnus nodded because he knew. He had been trying to pay off that debt since he could remember.

"What are we going to do after that?" Ragnor asked. "I never thought about it before because let's be honest, this day seemed unlikely to ever happen, but now that we're finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I think we should really start to think about our future."

"You're right." Magnus agreed. He hadn't given it much of a thought either for the exact same reasons, but he was getting closer and freedom, that freedom that he had longed for so long, was so close that he could almost taste it.

"What would you like do?"

"I don't know." Magnus confessed because it was the truth—he didn't know.

Although it sounded like some big irony, freedom was a concept completely foreign to him. He had never truly been free, so what would happen later in his life was a mystery to him. When he was younger he had dreamed of a lot of things he would like to do, but now that he was older, none of those dreams sounded appealing. Now, he just wanted to settle down and find his happiness—that promised happily ever after that all those fairy tales talked about.

"Maybe retirement." He said.

"So young?"

Magnus shrugged. He couldn't share with his friend why the word retirement had crossed his mind when thinking about his happily ever after, first, because there were things Ragnor simply couldn't understand; Magnus loved him, but the man had a thick skull; and second, because once he explained himself he would never hear the end of it, so he just went with a neutral response. "I'm getting tired, my friend. One day I won't be able to pull off the stunts I do in order to get what we want." He admitted.

"You're thirty years old, Magnus, what are you talking about? You have at least another twenty or thirty years of activity."

Magnus chuckled and shook his head. "Don't mind me, okay? We'll burn that bridge when we have to cross it, now, why don't you call Raphe and see if he can move the painting? But tell him to be careful, the FBI is on high alert, so I'm sure they'll be checking the black market. Before you offer him the painting, make sure he can assure us a clean sale. I don't want to leave this city yet."

"Don't worry, I will." Ragnor said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately calling their other friend.

Magnus put the cat on the floor and went to the balcony of his loft. From there, he could get the most beautiful view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the skyline of Manhattan. Magnus loved New York City. He had been all over the world, but nothing screamed home like the city that never slept. Its streets, its people, its lights, everything felt like home to him.

Magnus once had read that there were three types of New York. There was the New York of the man or woman who had been born there, the New York of the people who took the city for granted and accepted its size, its turbulence, and its chaos as natural and inevitable. Then there was the New York of the commuter—the city that was devoured by thousands of people each day and spat out each night. And last but not least, there was the New York of the people who had been born somewhere else and had come to the city in quest of something. Commuters gave the city its tidal restlessness, natives gave it solidity and continuity, but the settlers, the settlers gave it passion. Of the three, Magnus belonged to the latter.

He had arrived to the city when he was barely a teen and since then, he had come and gone more times than he could remember, but never truly left. He had always found his way back here. That was what New York did to you. It caught you under its spell, it made you part of it. You became one with the city, and the lights—those lights that blinded most people—gave you energy, enthusiasm, and conviction that anything was possible.

Magnus's phone rang, startling him and waking him from his reverie. The screen read Catarina Loss. She was Magnus's second best friend and if he was completely honest, the voice of his conscience. He had met her at a hospital almost fifteen years ago and since then, she had been of great support for him. She was a bit older than him, around Ragnor's age, but that didn't bother him; when Magnus had needed her the most, she had always been there, and because of that she was part of Magnus's list of selected friends.

"You did it again." She said as soon as Magnus answered the call. "I saw the news."

"I'm sorry, Cat." Magnus said, though he knew that he was going to hear a very long lecture on the matter regardless of what he said. She was always like that with him. She tried to convince him to change his life and find a new path—a better path, she said.

"No, you're not. You enjoy doing this, I know you too well to buy your sorry-ass apologies, but we agreed that you would stop." She told him. "You promised."

"Yes, I promised I would try to stop, but I also told you that I would do it when I had managed to pay my debt, and that hasn't happened, so don't be so hard on me."

"And when is this debt going to be paid?"

"Soon."

There was silence on the other side of the line. Magnus could almost hear the gears in Catarina's head turning at the speed of light. She knew everything about him, but even to this day, she didn't know how he had managed to ruin himself the way he had done it. Magnus was just waiting to hear what she was going to say to him this time.

"There are always different alternatives." She said.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "No, there aren't."

"You could get a job."

"This is my job."

"Stealing isn't a job, Magnus, it's just a lifestyle. You do all these things because it's easy money, but you're-"

"Cat, please...not today." Magnus interrupted her, already tired of the conversation. "I didn't sleep last night. I had to pull an all-nighter to finish the Pollock."

"You stole one of Pollock's paintings!?"

Magnus sighed. He had forgotten for a moment that the authorities hadn't shared what had happened at the museum yet. Catarina must have known that he had stolen something, but she had no way of knowing what, until now, of course. "Yes."

"And you made a forgery."

"Yes, you know I do that all the time to keep my instrument sharp."

"See, Magnus? Do you see all that potential thrown into the trash? If instead of doing replicas of other people's paintings you did your own, you wouldn't have to be stealing to get money. You could sell them and have the same life you have now, but without the part where you have to run and hide all the time. That's not a life."

"Of course it is and I love it, thank you very much."

"Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, but you and I both know that's not true. What you-"

"Cat…"

"Okay, okay, I won't say anything, but promise me that you'll be careful, please."

"I promise."

"Say it like you mean it, you fool."

"I mean it, Cat. I'll be careful."

"Seriously, Magnus, I don't want to see you behind bars."

"I don't want to see myself behind bars either, orange isn't my color." Magnus joked.

"I'm serious, Magnus."

"I'm serious too, I don't like that color." Magnus said, but Catarina stayed silent. It was clear that she wasn't in the mood for jokes. "I'm sorry, Cat, I know you're worried. I'll be careful, I promise."

"You're a good man, Magnus, despite everything you've done, you're a good man."

"You seem to be the only one who thinks that."

"I'm not…"

"Yes, you are, and that's why I love you."

In the distance, Magnus heard the unmistakable sounds of the hospital's speakers, which only indicated that the call would probably end soon. Catarina was a very busy woman. She was a nurse at the Belleveu Hospital Center and one of the best ones too, so she never really rested. She spent her life helping others. If Magnus didn't know better, he would think she was some sort of angel sent from heaven.

"I have to go, but...will you visit me soon?" Catarina asked.

"Yes, I'll just let the waters calm down a bit, but I'll try to visit, okay?"

"Okay, then I'll see you soon."

"See you."

Magnus ended the call and took a deep breath. The day had slipped away like water through fingers and he could feel the weariness of the past few days finally taking a toll on him, so he took a look at his beloved city one last time and went back inside.

It was still early to go to bed, but he really needed a rest, so after sorting a few more things with Ragnor, ordering something to eat, and making sure that the Chairman had some food too, he went to his room and fell into a deep, deep sleep.

o-o-o-o-o

Alec and Jace stepped off the elevator and walked into the FBI Headquarters. Alec could see out of the corner of his eye Jace talking nonsense next to him, but he wasn't paying him any attention. His mind was still on the case. They hadn't found anything useful to get closer to capture Magnus and he was frustrated. Frustrated, as every time this particular criminal decided to attack his city. Because New York was Alec's city—you could fight him on that.

"So, what do you think?" Jace asked.

"About what?"

"You weren't paying attention?"

"No, I'm sorry...what were you saying?"

"Nothing important, I was asking for your opinion about this thing with Clary, but I see you're not in the mood."

"Sorry, Jace, I'm a bit exhausted. You mind if we talk about it later? I need some minutes to myself to think and clear my head."

"Yeah, sure, no problem...I understand. I'll see you for lunch, okay? I'll write the reports and send them to the captain, is that okay?"

"Yes, thank you...oh, and tell Izzy to send me the results of the lab reports as soon as she has them, okay?"

"Sure."

Alec headed to his office hoping to have a little break, but as soon as he opened the door, he found his mother waiting for him inside.

"Mother! I didn't know you were in town. I wasn't expecting you." He said, trying to hide the weariness in his voice. His mother wasn't the one to blame for the day he'd had.

"Now I have to make an appointment to see my own son?"

"No, of course not. You know you're always welcome here." He said.

His parents, Robert and Maryse Lightwood, had moved from the city when the Bureau had promoted and reassigned Alec's father to the Washington D.C. division. "How have you been? How's Max? When did you arrive?"

"We're fine, thank you, son. And we arrived this morning. Your father has some business to attend here. By the way, I saw the news."

Alec sighed. If his mother had seen the news, he already knew what was coming. He could hear his mother's voice in his head. 'Alec, if you don't catch that criminal soon you could ruin your career!'

"Alec, if you don't catch that criminal soon you could ruin your career! You could lose everything you've worked so hard for! When your father was captain of this division-"

"When dad was captain things were different, okay?" Alec interrupted her before she could continue with her rehearsed lecture about Alec's incompetence. "I know what I have to do."

"Alec, I'm just telling you this because-" she was saying when the door of Alec's office swung open, and Robert along with Alec's nine year old little brother, walked in.

"Alec! Alec!" Max, his little brother, exclaimed excitedly, rushing into his brother's open arms.

Alec picked him up and kissed him on the cheeks. "How are you, little one?"

"I'm okay, but I miss you." Max said. "Tell mom I can stay with you, Izzy, and Jace to live, pretty please? I don't like D.C. everything is very...boring, I miss New York."

"You know you can stay with us on vacations, but you live there now and you have to go to school. Speaking of which, why aren't you there? Why did you bring him too?" He asked the last question to his parents.

"We thought it was safer." Robert said, looking at Alec cautiously. "We got a tip."

Alec frowned concerned.

"Come on, Max." Maryse said, clearly understanding their cue to leave. "Let's leave your father and brother to talk. Let's go find Izzy and Jace."

Max nodded and jumped from Alec's arms. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Alec smiled at his brother and took a seat next to his father. "What happened?"

"Valentine Morgenstern is on the move."

"What?" Alec asked puzzled. "I-I...I thought he was dead."

"That was the official statement, yes, but we always suspected that he had faked his own death, now, well...it's been confirmed. Last week we got a tip that he was recruiting his old gang again."

Alec sank into his chair. Those weren't good news. Valentine had been, or was, the most wanted criminal of all time. Alec had grown up hearing stories about him and his wave of death and destruction. For decades the FBI had chased him, but the man had managed to deceive the authorities and do whatever the hell he pleased. Alec still remembered the day his father had come home almost twenty two years ago just to inform them that Valentine had died during a confrontation with the FBI and the Interpol. Alec had only been five, but it was still fresh in his mind. That day, he had decided he wanted to be like his dad and catch the bad guys.

"Did you-did you come here for back up?"

"Something like that, I came here to coordinate with Hodge. The D.C. office has reasons to believe he's in New York."

"Why?"

"His family."

"Weren't they part of the witness protection security program? He can't know who they are or where they were placed. Do you know if they are here?"

"That's classified information, Alec, you know that. But if the Bureau is concerned, then we should be too."

"Well, we haven't heard anything about him. I mean, I didn't even know he was alive until now, have you talked to Hodge?" Alec asked. After all, Hodge was the captain of the New York City division, promoted when Alec's father had been sent to D.C.

"Yes, we're going to coordinate to put a surveillance team and try to find him soon."

"I could put some of my agents at your service if you want, Jace, Izzy..."

"There's no need, we can handle this on our own. You better focus on catching Bane. He's not making you look good, son."

Alec refrained himself from rolling his eyes. "I know, dad. I know."

"Do you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Alec asked offended.

"You know what it means, Alec. How long have you been chasing him? How many times have you been close to catch him in all these years, huh? One, Alec, one time in five years! That's not a good record for an alleged top agent like yourself."

"And what about you, huh?" Alec exploded, standing up and heading to his desk. Every conversation with his dad usually ended up with them fighting. Alec hated that his father always found the opportunity to drill into him that he wasn't good enough. "You can't come here and imply that I'm not a good agent after the news you just dropped about Valentine. For years you threw into my face how you had helped capture one of the most wanted criminals of all time and look what happened! The man is free and has been all this time. Valentine has not only made a fool of all of you, but of the justice system of this country too. So the next time you want to imply that I don't know how to do my job, make sure you have something to back yourself up. Until then, goodbye, dad."

"Alexander…"

"Don't call me like that...and please just go!" Alec said, letting all the anger and frustration of the day to speak for him. "As you well said, I have a criminal to catch."

"Will we see you for dinner?"

"Yes, now, please?" Alec pointed to the door.

His dad didn't say a word and just left, closing the door behind him. Alec sank into his chair again and took a deep breath. Now with Valentine on the loose things had just complicated even more. He knew he had to find and catch Magnus Bane sooner rather than later, or else, he could start saying goodbye to his beloved career in the FBI.

"Where are you, Bane? Where?"