"Come on, Clary. Please, just come. I promise you'll have fun." Isabelle Lightwood said, trying to convince Clary for the hundredth time to come to this new hit club called Pandemonium wih her. Clary looked her up and down, considering it. She was dressed in a sparkly silver dress, a silvery headband draped across her dark, silky hair. Her makeup was done, her 7-inch silver stilettos glittering on her feet. She felt bad, always turning her down. Plus, one night couldn't hurt. Rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, Clary sighed deeply. "Fine." Izzy squealed, clapping her hands together as she ran to Clary's closet, throwing the doors open.

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Pandemonium was...well, pandemonium. A sticky heat settled over Clary's skin the minute she walked in. Lights swung around the room in every direction, turning people's skin different shades of neon, ranging from pink, blue, green, and even purple. Smoke drifted through the air, allowing the appearance of laser lights, obscuring Clary's vision slightly. Instead of sacrificing herself to the sweat fest that the dance floor likely promised, Clary headed to the bar. Isabelle decided the dance floor was worth the risk of injury and permanent BO smell. The tight dress Isabelle had forced Clary into wearing hugged her body tightly, eluding the appearance of curves. It showed of Clary's chest, making it appear bigger than it actually was. Isabelle had done her hair in some sort of complicated up do, and Clary was honestly glad the heavy weight of her hair was off her shoulders, particularly due to the stifling heat of the club. Isabelle had let her wear a pair of black, strappy sandals to match the dress. Clary was eternally grateful she hadn't had to wear heels. Clary sat at one of the stools at the bar, sitting down carefully so that the already-short dress didn't inch up more. She ordered a rum and coke, suddenly feeling lost in the huge club. It was a bit...overwhelming, to say the least.

She felt someone watching her. The hair n the back of her neck standing up, Clary slowly turned to her left. Her breath got stuck in her throat as she saw who was sitting there.

He had to be the holy trinity of hot men, and he stole Clary's breath away with one glance. Hair that could only be described as golden formed a perfectly chiseled face, striking golden eyes peering up at her through soft, looping curls. His shirt clung to him slightly, revealing strong, corded muscles all over his body. Tan, slender fingers drummed on the surface of the bar, momentarily distracting her from his piercing eyes. "You look like you would rather be anywhere but here." He commented, and his voice made her inhale softly, curling her fingers around the glass of her drink, which had arrived a few moments ago.

"Looks like I'm not the only one." She said back.

"You would be right." He stuck his hand out towards her. "I'm Jace."

She took his hand. It was warm, the calluses on his hand rough in an oddly pleasant way. Her hand fit perfectly in his, which seemed odd because her hand was so small, and his was large, but it did. She gave his hand a firm shake, slowly removing hers from his. "I'm Clary." She held her straw between two fingers, taking a sip of her drink. She fought the cough that always came whenever she took her first sip of any kind of alcohol, and by some miracle, won. Jace twirled the stem of his beer bottle between his fingers, appearing deep in thought.

"So, what do you do?" He asked finally.

"What?"

"What do you do?" He repeated again. "I assume you don't just sit at home all day, every day, doing nothing."

She chose to ignore his bout of assholery. "I'm an artist."

He rose his eyebrows. "Nice."

'What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you do? Or do you sit around at ome, all day, every day, and that's ust what yo assume everyone else does."

He huffed out a small laugh. "I bartend."

It was her chance to rise her eyebrows. "Interesting carrer choice."

"Yeah. I get that a lot."

They talked about anything and everything, and at some point they ended up at his apartment. She ended up pressed up against the wall closet the his bedroom, her breath rushing in an out fast as his lips peppered kisses agaisnt her neck and collarbone. Her fingers threaded throughis silky hair, tugging on the ends as he lifted her up and her legs hooked around his waist. Their lips coected again, and Clary felt a fire pulsing through her veins at his touch. They stumbled into the bedroom, and he backed her up to his bed, and they fell onto it, a tangle of arms and legs. Her dress was removed hastilly, and she waas almost certain in had been torn. All clothes were remved, and thy eded up uncer the sheet,s hands everrywhere, their lips so close their breahs mingled. And then he was inside of her, and the rest of the night was a blur of pleasure, whispered words, and shiver-worthy touches.

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Hey guys! It's Mermaid12108 AKA Megan, your author. You may know me from having read some of my other stoires, or as a reviewer, or not at all. I was just wanted to drop by & say thanks for checking out The Prospect Of Forever. I worte this story because I was talking about maybe making another Clace pregancy story, on my story Take A Chance With Me. Many reviewers said they would love one, so here it is. Would you guys like this story to be M or T rated? I haven't really decided what I would like, so I figured I would ask you guys. I kind of left this chapter in between the two. I know this chapter kind of sucked, but I promise it will get better. The first few chapters will just be setting up the story. I hope you guys stick around to see how this unfolds for our beloved Clace. :) -Megan