Clary's hair shone brightly in the sun, bathing her face in a rosy glow.
"Come on, tell me. Would you rather be stuck with Magnus in Demure Downworlders or kiss Chairman Meow?"
Jace laughed, a light tinkly sound.
"Easy, kiss Chairman Meow. He may hate me, but at least he won't ramble on for hours about how drab shadowhunter gear is and how much better we'd look with "some blue here" and "some body sparkle there" - it's simply tires-"
"Actually, it's body glitter."
"Who cares? I mean, who even invented that stuff? Anyway, besides the point." Jace grinned wickedly. "I believe that's eight kisses you owe me so far, Miss Fray, and I have received not one."
Clary tutted.
"You'd think you were a hormonal twelve year old waiting for their first kiss, Jace, honestly. And it's five, I managed to answer your one about Isabelle in drag. That's four, plus the dare to tell that hobo pervert staring at us about my "too hot to function" boyfriend, thanks. Not that any of that's exactly rele-"
Clary broke off as Jace's mouth met hers, swallowing her words in a rush of warm breath and the smell of the cologne Jace wore. She still couldn't believe he was hers. Her Jace. She had spent many nights rolling the words about in her mouth and decided she liked it.
When they broke apart, it was for Jace to half-heartedly remark, "Now I owe you none, and you really should give me those kisses."
She laughed and shook her head.
"Perhaps you're the hobo pervert here."
"You see that, Watson? Such childish behaviour. The phenomenon that is "young love" I believe."
A tall shadow towered over Jace's windswept hair. Beside him, a shorter figure with an exasperated look upon his face tugged at his sleeve.
Squinting against the sunlight, Jace smoothly asked, "Sorry, may I help you?"
The taller one shifted out of the sunlight, revealing prominent cheekbones and locks of tousled black hair.
The other figure hurriedly replied, "Oh, we're just waiting for a friend. Told us to wait here. Seems you're in our spot. I'm John and this is Sherlock-" he broke off as the man known as Sherlock nudged him. "Nevermind, terribly sorry."
He gave an uncomfortable grimace and half-led, half-dragged the other man away. Jace raised his eyebrows at Clary. Weird mundanes, huh? A rustling wind forced him to tear his eyes away from Clary. A blue box was shimmering in the air nearby. Jace yelped and tried to pull Clary away.
"Stop Jace! It's him, Simon's friend. It's who we've been waiting for."
All around, people were gaping slightly at the box which has just appeared from nowhere, but the two figures they had encountered before came hurrying over.
"He couldn't be a bit more subtle, this friend of his, could he? Use a glamour perhaps? All the mundies are staring." Jace hissed.
"Urgh, move. It's the Doctor. He forgot to turn the cloaking device on again. Typical."
The man known as Sherlock shoved Clary and Jace aside, rapping on the blue door of the box. Clary moved closer to Jace, giving a cautious look to John.
"Shush, Jace. You know he's not a shadowhunter. Bit rude, isn't he though, that man?"
"A mundie with a blue box? Useless. And that's an understatement. Belligerent bastard, more like." he muttered under his breath.
Police Telephone / FREE / For use of PUBLIC / Advice and assistance obtainable immediately / Officers & cars respond to all calls / Pull to open
Just then, a man stepped out, coughing, clutching a girl's hand.
"Is that him then? The Doctor?" the man – they presumed his name was John Watson – whispered.
He stopped and stared when another man pushed the two who had emerged from the curious box away, spluttering and muttering, "Swimming pool messed with the circuits again. I should really get rid of that. But where else would I practise my starfish stroke? The frozen ponds of Oorn? No...oh Amy, good thing you got Rory out befo-"
Startled by the sight of the four clustered around his machine, the girl and boy had edged back towards the man. Suddenly, he caught sight of them.
"Oh hello, Clary is it? Simon told me all about you. Wonderful, he said. Never mentioned the hair though! Love the hair. Wish I had hair like that. And Jace? "The idiot who's ridiculously full of himself?" Though I don't think Simon wanted me to mention that, come to think of it…And Sherlock! Pleasure, again. Ever solve that case? What was it, the Hounds of Baskerville? I've been having trouble accessing John's blog here, not great signal in Krogos – it is brilliant though! Oh, but I'm talking too much again, this is Amy and Rory - he's the one with the funny nose - this is the Tardis, she's a beauty – Time And Relative Dimension In Space, and of course, I'm the Doctor!"
He held his hand out, grinning childishly. Nobody quite knew who he expected to shake his hand, so after a while, he withdrew it.
"Anyway, Tardis engines are phasing again. Lucky thing we managed to get here really. Well, you can all introduce yourselves!"
This was met with another silence.
The girl – Amy – stepped forward.
"So...loving the red hair...Clary. Nice red hair."
"No need to rub it in, Amy." The Doctor readjusted his faded red bow tie.
Clary stared back blankly, while Jace snaked his arm protectively round her shoulders, staring at them contemptuously. Sherlock stepped forward, turning his collar up against the lazy summer breeze.
"You didn't turn your cloaking device on. Again. You need to be more careful, Doctor."
The Doctor stared incredulously at Sherlock.
"Of course I did! I distinctly remember pulling the blue lever after we took off from the Moon of Lorx – didn't I pull the lever Amy? I did! Probably. I think. Perhaps. Not important."
Jace was dumbfounded.
"You might want to close that jaw before some cheeky demons fly in and decide and destroy your beautiful face from the inside out." Clary remarked.
He gave her a small shove and stepped forward.
"What is that? It's just a box. And who are all of you? If this is another of that mundane's jokes again, I swear I'll incinerate his tiny little rat's-"
"Jace!"
"Now, now, let's not be too rash here. Let's go through it again. Sherlock says there's been some strange signals reaching London due to some cosmic radiation, he suspects. Of course, that's all wrong, but-!"
"My deductions are never wrong, Doctor."
John stepped forward and hissed, "You don't know anything about space, Sherlock. He's travelled in space. Let the man speak, for heaven's sake."
"Yes, well...now, Amy and Rory here say they both saw the Tenebris planet emitting some sort of light, now, I told them it was just because the planet's covered in naturally grown glitter, but Amy insisted – as she does – that I was wrong."
Jace laughed, loud and mocking.
"Maybe it was Magnus, trying to get more glitter, seeing as he's already depleted half of Brooklyn's supply."
"Jace!"
"Now, Clary, I know my name has been known to cause earthquakes and make even the best men shudder and reach for their girlfriends – hopeless, obviously – but there's really no need to say my name in such a desperate manner, as much as I know what you're thinking."
Clary ground her teeth and gave him a warning stare.
"Me and Jace were investigating a certain pack of werewolves – they broke off from the main gang, we think – and we saw them meeting some faeries. We couldn't be sure, but I think – " she exchanged a glance with Jace – "they said something about that planet you just mentioned – Tenebris? Yeah."
She fidgeted nervously as they all stared at her incredulously. The man next to the other redhead, Amy, was the first to speak.
"Don't get me wrong, but, faeries? Like, the tiny sort with fluttery wings and wands which make you fly and shimmer?"
"Mundanes," Jace muttered disgustedly under his breath.
"The Fair Folk, Lilith's Children, Downworlders, call then what you will, but they all have demon's blood. There are Nympths, Pixies, Kelpies, Pucas, Elves-"
"Eight inches and pure evil," Jace grinned. "Sounds exactly like Izzy's type."
The Doctor shrugged uncomfortably, clearly not understanding the innuendo.
"I'm given to understand that the Fair Folk cannot lie," Sherlock input.
"So, can't you just ask them what they're doing?" Watson inquired.
"I wasn't finished, and no, Watson, faeries are devious creatures. They cannot lie, but they can deceive you by simply saying things you want to hear, and not mentioning the things you need to hear."
"Sounds like Magnus and Alec," Clary mumbled miserably.
