Disclaimer: I don't own the book or movie rights to The Mortal Instruments.I am merely borrowing the characters. All I own is the laptop I wrote this on. And copies of the books, of course!

A/N: My fan fiction updates have been sporadic, if anything. But occasionally the urge is too much and I can't soothe it until I've actually put it into words. This story has been on my mind for a week now and I had no other choice but to write it. It focuses on Clary and Simon's relationship, because I feel that it is an incredibly strong and complex one. Of course, there's so much more to it than I've explored in this single story. This scenario takes place right after Clary sees the Shadowhunters at the club. What if she didn't go back to her own place, but spent the night at Simon's instead? Everything could have been so different. :)

A Double Take

"I would talk to you but it's loud now, if only we could drown it all out..."

Clary pulled her jean jacket tighter around her as she climbed out of the cab, throwing the door closed just as Simon pulled his head out of the passenger's side window. He pocketed his wallet swiftly as he straightened himself, catching her eyes with his own, his hazel ones flickering guiltily as if he had been caught doing something unimaginable.

"You'll get the next one," he promised her. "You can blame my mom for raising me a gentleman." He cracked a smile, his dimples showing and making her slight annoyance vaporize into the dark night. "After you." He swung out his arm and gestured for her to go first.

Clary rolled her eyes, but it was good natured. Simon had always been too kind for his own good, overdoing the chivalry at times, but she had to admit that it was a rarity among the boys her age and part of his charm. The boyish kind she would usually deny and sometimes took for granted, until she really thought about it.

"Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?" Clary asked while Simon struggled with putting his key in the lock. "I mean, you practically spent all day with me and-"

"Clary, stop it," he told her. "You're always welcome and all the time we spend together isn't wasted." He pushed the door open for her, her arm brushing against him for the briefest of seconds although it was enough to make his mind wander to places he always regretted going. He foresaw getting his feelings deeply hurt, which is why he had settled for being her closest friend. She still loved him, it was merely a different kind. "Have you figured out what you're going to tell your mom?" he asked after relocking the door, watching her bite her lip from the corner of his eye.

Clary nodded. "Sort of. She's just been more weird about me leaving the house lately. Giving me strict curfews and asking tons of questions. It helps that she likes you."

Simon opened his mouth, but Clary silenced him with a look. "If you're about to hit on my mom, I'm here to remind you, again, that it's creepy. Like this amount," she held up her thumb and index finger to indicate the measurement, "times a zillion."

Simon shook his head, dropping his keys in a bowl on the dresser. "I wasn't going to," he reassured her with slight amusement pulling at his features. "I was merely going to remind you that your mom has always been a little on the protective side..."

"Over protective," Clary mouthed.

He tugged at her sleeve, temporarily bringing her closer to him and offering her the comfort he always did. "She cares about you. A lot. And you've always been independent, like her," he observed. "It might scare her to see you so... grown up."

Clary halted on her position halfway up the stairs to turn and face her friend. The move was without warning and Simon managed to stop just in time, one hand grabbing the banister and the other her waist without thinking. It was an innocent touch if both didn't think twice about the gesture.

"How do you always know the right things to say?" she wondered out loud. "To make me feel alright, pull me back before I spiral completely?"

"Because I'm the rational one." Simon shrugged. "I see the world differently."

Clary's frown deepened and her eyes searched Simon's, almost frantically. Like she was looking for something she knew he was purposely keeping from her for her benefit. If only she could peek into his mind and see that the things he was leaving unsaid were because of his own forebodings. "I still can't explain tonight. What I saw," she shared with him. "Are you sure you didn't see anything?"

He shook his head, his curls wild as they came spilling down his forehead, causing her eyes and thoughts to shift. "But I can see how you did. I mean, with how people were dressed, the lights..."

Clary bit her lip, slowly nodding. "That must've been it. I've just been occupied. Lately."

"Hey," he said, sending her mind into overdrive as she felt his hand leave her waist and find her hand without looking. Their fingers slid together, electricity sending a shiver down to her core. One she hadn't picked apart as much as she was doing right now. It was unnerving. "If you want to talk, take a break, I'm here."

Her worry lessened as he took some of it away. She smiled at him. "Why do you think I came home with you tonight?"

Simon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, covering up the wistfulness although the image was already imprinted in her mind. It was a blend of white sheets, her red streaks against his olive skin and her experiencing his lips in a seductive way that tensed the muscles all the way down to her toes. She stifled her gasp with laughter as she made her way up the rest of the steps and into his bedroom.

She saw down on his bed, like it was where she spent her every night. Shrugging off her jacket, she dialed her mom's number. Simon had switched on the lights in the bathroom adjacent to his room, leaning against the doorframe as he kept his eyes on her.

"Is your mom okay with this?" Clary asked quickly.

He shrugged, running a hand through his curls as he answered, "As long as I sleep on the couch downstairs or in a sleeping bag on the floor."

Their eyes locked knowingly. Simon's mom never actually checked, resulting in them having slept in the same bed for years now. It was how they preferred it.

"Hi mom," Clary started the phone conversation. "... No, I'm fine. That's why I'm calling. Simon and I only had money left for one cab ride. We spent too much on coffee. Yeah, it is overpriced. The poetry was... one of a kind. Anyway, I'm sleeping over here tonight. ... Yes, mom. His mom is home, as always. You know, it could've been a random guy, but... It's a joke! You trust Simon and more importantly, you trust me. ... Okay. Goodnight, mom. I love you too."

Simon chuckled at her once she hung up the phone. "I'm going to get ready for bed," he let her know.

Clary nodded, watching him retreat into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked so the steam wouldn't fog up the entire space. She knew his routine by heart and how he liked to brush his teeth before he would get into the shower (not liking how the water would mix with his toothpaste) and with his shirt off (not wanting to get any toothpaste or water on it). It were thing she teased him about because she didn't need things to be a certain way for it to feel comfortable. She wouldn't even take a shower or brush her teeth, even though she kept an extra toothbrush in Simon's bathroom just in case.

She got up from the bed, spotting a stack of folded sweatshirt on the desk. She carefully took the one she wanted from the pile, a red one that didn't do anything for her hair color or her figure but she didn´t care about. It promoted some obscure game company on the front and reminded her of how she and Simon used to spend their days before she urged him to get out of his comfort zone and be more adventurous. She had just said that because she was afraid to be adventurous on her own. If only he knew that their favorite time together was the time she spent with him at night, both doing their own thing until they came together on his bed and just lay there, side by side, as they talked through their day.

"Simon, can I borrow a sweatshirt!" she called out, even though she had already started shedding her jeans.

"What's mine is yours," was the slightly muffled response.

Clary undressed down to her underwear, throwing her clothes over a chair and pulling on the sweatshirt. It reached to just above her knees and the sleeves were too long. It was big on Simon as well. Now that she thought about it, most things were. He didn't have a very muscular body type, but with his lean frame he still had no reason to feel self-conscious about anything. When they went swimming, he would have enough girls glance in his direction and Clary had always been jealous of his tanned skin. An image of Simon getting out of the pool, water glistening, hair wet and his swimming trunks hung low on his hips, entered her mind. Her mom's earlier words rang in her ears and she wondered if she really never noticed how Simon's eyes and touches would linger, or if she simply took his interest for granted? Compared to the other boys whose attention she sometimes attracted, Simon's was unwavering.

Without thinking twice about it she made her way over to the bathroom, pushing the door open just far enough for her to slide in. She didn't make her presence known immediately, standing by the door as she shyly looked on. Simon put away his toothbrush and turned off the faucet, the steam from the running shower already beginning to fog up the bottom of the mirror. He was dressed in just his boxers and all the bare skin made Clary think of her own uncovered legs and their skin rubbing together. It made her blush, although she feigned the confidence she could so easily exude as she cleared her throat, Simon's eyes catching hers in the mirror before he spun around.

"Clary," he said her name, visibly surprised. "What are you doing in here? I could've been naked," he pointed out, allowing his gaze to briefly slip down to her legs, the fair skin a beautiful contrast to his own.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"What, now? Can't it wait 5 minutes. I'm about to get in the shower."

"I'll chicken out otherwise," she admitted, clasping her hands together in a nervous manner.

"Chicken out? What... I don't understand what you're talking about."

"I know." She nodded. "I didn't even understand it. Until today. I've been thinking about what my mom said and ..."

"What did your mom say?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clary sighed, unclasping her hands and running one through her long strands instead. "She said something about our relationship."

"What?" Simon asked, her use of the word 'relationship' having sparked his interest and it brought his focus back to what she was saying. Although having her standing there in a state this vulnerable with just one of his sweatshirts on made it incredibly difficult for him.

"That I might not be aware of the fact that... This is so hard!"

"I'm sorry. But I really don't know what you're-"

"Do you like me?" Clary finally asked him, not having done a good enough job of giving him a fair warning that this was the direction she had been going in.

"Of course I do," he confirmed. "You're my best friend," he continued, still not fully understanding what she was getting at.

His adoring smile made her shake her head in frustration. At herself for stumbling through this conversation when she had thought about it all day. " No. I mean, do you like me as more than a friend?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"Don't avoid the question. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm just trying to..."

"What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to decide whether we should kiss or not," she blurted out.

Simon's eyes turned big. "What did your mom say?" he wanted to know. "You know what, never mind. Let's get back to this decision."

Clary smiled at him, the affection he had for her evident. "Simon..." she said his name, trying to see if it held a different weight now that they were so close to crossing a line. "You want to kiss me then?"

"Isn't that obvious?" He threw his arms to the side for emphasis. "Hasn't it been?" Everything was out in the open now.

Clary bit her lip. "I think I was taking your affection and attention for granted," she softly confessed to him, feeling ashamed. "Like, if you're around something everyday then you don't notice it as much as when you distance yourself a little bit and really look at it."

"Or you just don't feel the same, which I always expected."

"Don't tell me how to feel!" she raised her voice a little, more angry at herself than at him for not having paid attention to him in this way before. "I don't know! Apparently. I've been thinking of you all day and seeing you-"

"You have?"

She nodded. "So, I thought we should kiss and see if you take my breath away and make my knees quiver and stuff."

"Clary," he said, sounding as if he was holding back laughter.

"Don't laugh at me. This is serious." She moved closer, brushing her hair away from her face, looking up at him. His glasses were off, but it didn't matter. It only gave her a better view of his eyes. "Well?"

"I have to make the first move? I thought you-"

"Simon."

He looked into her eyes, his sparkling with hope and hers gleaming with new feelings and expectations. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

Simon carefully reached out and placed a hand on her hips, moving her a little closer as he leaned in, aligning his lips perfectly with hers. She closed her eyes and he was in awe as her mouth parted. He breached the gap quickly, his lips landing on hers softly. The kiss was sweet and innocent enough if they had to backtrack from here. He pulled back, breaking their contact, looking down at her nervously.

"Did you-"

He was cut off, his thought process interrupted as Clary took a step closer, one hand on his shirt as she held on while she pushed herself up onto her toes. Her eyes meeting his before pressing her lips against his. It took him off guard and he wasn't ready to catch her weight with his own. He stumbled backward a step or two, tripping over his own feet. He pulled her with him into the shower, stopping only when his back found the wall. Water streamed over them both, but neither Clary or Simon dared to stop. Clary's other hand had disappeared into his curls while his held onto her for dear life. His fingers kneaded her skin, content with what he could feel through the fabric of the sweatshirt, although he quickly wandered, testing the waters. His hands went under her sweatshirt and dug into her bare hips, his eyes open all this time to keep track of her reaction. She was beautiful with water dripping off her everywhere. He pulled his lips from hers, tracing them to her neck and then to her earlobe.

"You're beautiful, Clary." The emotion and sincerity behind it made her push her body against him even more and her mouth found his chest, leaving a trail of kisses before finding his mouth once more. He took the lead by parting her lips with his tongue and he then allowed his eyes to shut. He grabbed her tighter, pushing her backwards a little so he could maneuver them both so that he had taken her place and she was the one with her back against the wall. Clary's feet moved as they were guided, though she didn't see the bottles of shampoo and body wash until she swiped her feet right through. Everything tumbled downwards, making a noise that disrupted the quietness of the night. Clary yelped in surprise and Simon's eyes shot open, looking from the bottles to her.

He pressed his finger to his mouth as they heard a door open somewhere down the hall. Footsteps hurried to the other door in the bathroom, this one leading directly into the hall. There was a single knock. "Simon. Simon!" the voice on the other side repeated louder.

Simon kept quiet and it was Clary who answered instead, earning herself a look from the boy holding her. "It's me, Mrs. Lewis!" she yelled over the running water. "Simon is downstairs. I think he's already asleep," she lied. "I just wanted to take a shower before bed."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah! I just had soap in my eyes. I didn't mean to wake you!"

"It's fine. I'll fall right back asleep. But Simon's a lighter sleeper, so..."

"I'll be done in a minute!"

"See you in the morning, Clary!"

"Goodnight, Mrs. Lewis!"

Simon let out the breath he had been holding. "That was close."

"I don't think she would've minded..."

"Us in the shower together? She would've freaked out, Clary! Have you met my mom?"

"No, I mean the bigger picture. Us being together. As more than friends." She whispered the last sentence, but he still caught it. It didn't sound as unbelievable as the both of them would have imagined, him not having had the courage to come clean and her not letting the thought cross her mind because she didn't see him that way. Or that was what she had been telling herself and convincingly so, because she had been blind to what had been right in front of her all these years. If anything, the kiss had opened her eyes and had confirmed her mother's suspicions.

"Oh," was Simon's only reply, their current situation sinking in once more. He could feel her against him everywhere.

"We'd better get out," Clary said, waiting a beat as she searched his eyes. "I need another sweater. I'm wet," she said, turning her body slightly so she could reach to turn the water off. She was referencing to the sweater that was hanging from her body completely soaked, but Simon couldn't help but notice the double entendre. His breathing was heavy as he stopped her, pushing himself into a standing position where he was no longer leaning on her. "Don't. Just turn off the hot water."

"But then you'll be taking a cold... shower," she finished, already realizing why he would want that. "Oh. Simon..."

"Don't. Speaking is proving to be extremely difficult at this point. I just need a minute."

He turned a bright shade of red and as she nodded, not knowing where to look, so did she. She got out of the shower quickly and tugged the shower curtain closed to give him more privacy. Looking down at her dripping clothes, she only hesitated a second before shedding down to her bare skin. "I'm borrowing another sweater, and boxers," she added as an afterthought, peeking into his bedroom to make sure it was empty.

She closed the door behind her, trying to keep her mind occupied with anything she could think of to keep it from picturing him in the shower. Clary found another sweatshirt, a white one with faded lettering on the front and put it on before opening his closet. She grabbed a black pair of boxers and slipped into them. They were a little big, good to sleep in. She shut off the lights and crawled into Simon's bed, turning her back to the bathroom door.

Simon didn't take long to come out. She heard him approach and move around the bed, cursing when he tripped over something. "You couldn't have waited a few minutes before shrouding this place in darkness?" he asked, sitting down on the bed and reaching over to rub his foot. He placed his glasses on the nightstand with his other hand.

"I'm embarrassed," she whispered softly. "I just made out with my best friend and I dread it possibly changing things between us to the point where it's only going to be awkward. I can't stand the thought."

"Neither can I," Simon agreed, shifting so his arms were resting on his legs. "We won't let it go there. No matter what..." He cleared his throat. "Even if you tell me this was a big mistake and you want me to forget it."

Clary snorted. "Is that what you expect of me?"

"I don't know what to expect, Clary. This did come out of the blue. I'm used to being the one in this... relationship who cares more."

"That's not fair. I've always cared."

Simon nodded. "You're right. You care, but I never thought you cared up to this level."

"Well, what do you want me to tell you, Simon?" She shot up in bed. "My mom's words really got to me this time, for some unexplainable reason." She waved her hand at the space around her. "And I've been thinking about those words all day. I've been thinking about you all day," she rephrased herself. "It's like I'm Sleeping Beauty and I've been asleep all this time while the... the prince took care of me and made sure I would be okay when I woke up again. And then my eyes suddenly opened again and I saw the world differently. I saw you differently."

Simon smiled at her fairytale reference.

"Look, I'm sorry if it has felt like I've been leading you on all this time. If it helps I feel guilty." She laid back down. Simon did as well, slipping under the covers while Clary unconsciously turned her body towards him underneath. For a while it was just the two of them breathing and getting acclimated to the change.

"You're a good kisser," she said. "It's your mouth. It's the shape and the way you... kiss."

Simon couldn't help but blush at the compliment. "I don't know what to... I know I'm not-"

"Don't you dare put yourself down." She told him, her fingers pressing into his arm. "You're incredibly attractive." She placed her other hand on his arm, rubbing his skin with her thumb.

Simon, still on his back, turned his head to look at her. "I find that hard to believe."

"Hush," she scolded him.

But he didn't listen. "I mean, you know I think you're beautiful. In an iridescent fairy princess kind of way."

"Simon, no" she whispered his name against his shoulder. "You're beautiful. Your eyes, dimples, hair..." She moved her hand to touch his curls. "Your skin... But those are not even the things that made us so close." She shifted closer. "I think I like your heart the best. The kindness, loyalty..." She let out a breath. "I feel stupid for not having given in to it sooner."

"It gave us time to get to know each other, build this bond."

Clary nodded, snuggling against him and she felt Simon touch his lips to her hair. "We need to take our time. With this."

She nodded.

"I want to savor every moment," he reasoned, taking her doubt away before it could manifest itself.

She smiled, reaching out and placing her hand on his face. "I'm not going to wake up and regret any of this, Simon. I'm not going to change my mind," she offered him the same assurance.

"Okay," she felt him speak against her fingers.

Her eyes dropped closed. "Do you think your mom would still be okay with us sleeping in the same bed if she knew we were now more than friends?"

Simon chuckled. "How would your mother feel?"

Clary smiled. "Maybe you can talk to her, since you're the rational one."

Simon touched his fingers to her face, leaning in to kiss her goodnight before closing his own eyes.

Please review? Like always, I write each story for myself and as a way of tracking my development as a writer, but reviews are extremely welcome and a big help. I would love to hear your thoughts on this piece? And also about how unbelievably gorgeous Robert Sheehan is! I went to see the movie a few times just because of that. :)