Disclaimer: I do not own Mortal Instruments, Infernal Devices, or any of Cassandra Clare's characters. There are some Terminator, Star Wars references in here; also not mine.

A Matter of Time

Clary watched Jace out of the corner of her eye. He was still in his gear, hair messy and sporting a faded black eye. She sighed and grimaced as he rolled over in his sleep again and bandaged right shoulder gently pushed against Alec's propped up foot. They were in Magnus's living room, though Clary wasn't exactly sure why at the moment.

Jace and Isabelle had taken Clary on what they called "Field Training" earlier that day, and it didn't end well. If someone had told her that this morning, she would have assumed it was entirely her fault. Surprisingly, it was something else completely. Something wrong.

They'd been taking on two Ravenger demons, dumb and slow as they were, that had been terrorizing an alleyway a few blocks west from the Pandemonium Club that Clary had had her first experience in the Shadowworld almost a year ago.

Clary had just finished off the second Ravenger under the watchful gaze of her boyfriend, Jace, when the things came through. At first glance they appeared human, but humans weren't so strong, or jerky, and did not enter alleys through portals.

They were mostly faceless creatures; some had eyes or a nose, but their putty-like skin lacked human animation, and when Clary sliced through the sword-wielding arm of an attacking enemy, it's arm fell away with a metal shriek and a clang.

Terminators. Simon had declared later. Now, at Magnus's assurance, automations. Robotic creatures with limited free will and dangerous features.

Magnus walked briskly through the foyer that attached to the main living areas. Red sparkles flew out of his black hair are he pushed towards the small group of Shadowhunters. Alec set down the magazine he had been through. "Magnus, what the Hell going on?"

"Well put." Jace, apparently awake, mumbled. Clary blushed and made a point of avoiding his face when her ducked head came up again.

The Warlock sat down on a purple ottoman across the couch Jace and Alec were lazing on, folding his long fingers into neat rows as if in prayer. "We have a problem, and I won't be able to get anyone else's help. No one trust worthy or capable of productive action,anyway.'

Isabelle drummed her fingers on the arm chair, "Okay, then. So why did you call them over too?" A slight tilt of the head indicated Simon and Maia, who awkwardly sat side by side to the left of Isabelle. "No offense."

Maia rolled her eyes and looked away, but Simon shrugged thoughtfully, "Maybe he wants to feed us to the Terminators.

Now it was Magnus's turn to roll his eyes. He stopped the motion when they reached the peak of his lids and fluttered his eyes close, as if he lacked the will to continue the action. "I assume you wonder-brains realize that those things that came through the portal weren't your run-on-the-mill robot assassins, yes?"

Jace snorted, "No, obviously they're the new and improved version. They can clean, spice up your love life, and come with their own weapons, too."

Magnus ignored the last comments, but corrected, "Actually, they're an old model. Over one-hundred and fifty years old, in fact. And they really, really shouldn't be here."

The six teens occupying the room stared blankly at the cat-eyes High-Warlock. Magnus looked impatient, "I need you to go and make sure that doesn't happen again. I can't trust anyone else to do this right." Simon raised his hand timidly. Magnus buried his face his forearms, 'Sheba help us all for that." He looked back up. "Yes, Simon?"

"How exactly did that happen? The robo-killer deal, not the "You're my last hope, Obi-wan" part. That detail is my next question."

Magnus looked a little pained, ". It was 1878, London, England, and absolutely unheard of. There was a man, a once-mortal, who managed to bind demon energies to machines-automations, as you saw. The Shadowhunters were nearly destroyed by the creatures, but a small group or warriors and Downworlders managed to destroy them. I was among their numbers."

"Congratulations, " Jace quipped, "but you clearly failed."

Magnus scowled, "No, we didn't. That's the thing. We killed the Magistrate and set off a device that deactivated the automations. We won. But now they're here, which means someone is screwing with the time line."

Alec raised one long brow. "Is that possible."

Magnus inclined his head, jaw set. "In theory. I've never met a Warlock powerful enough to actually make a time-portal. But then, before last year, I'd never met a Shadowhunter capable of creating a portal at all."

All eyes turned to Clary. "What? You don't think I had anything to do with this, do you?"

"No." Magnus breathed, but I can think of a few determined greater demons who could, with the right resource, attempt something like this."

"You're talking about Sebastian." Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "He's dead. I checked his pulse myself."

Magnus locked eyes with her, "Don't be foolish Isabelle; his body was gone. Someone, or something, as the case may be, took it. Never assume you're enemy is truly dead until the body is burned infront of your own eyes." He gave a little shiver, 'And even then…"

Jace rose to his feet, Alec by his side, "Alright, so what do we have to do?"

Magnus almost smiled, the first time since he stalked into the room. "I need to send you back in time to ensure history goes as intended." He cracked his knuckles anticipatingly. .

When he finished, Simon raised his hand again. "So, you're going to send us back in time?"

"Well, yes. Clary, her fancy runes, and I are going to send you back in time."

Maia spoke up, "Why are you sending me and Simon?"

"Good question." Jace mused, "Are we really going to feed them to those things? Because I find myself oddly against that action. Bad mental picture."

"No." Magnus allowed a bright grin, "It's all much more dangerous than that. You see, it's all about politics. We managed to get Shadowhunters, Warlocks, Vampires, and Werewolves to work together. Even now, that is quite a task, but then… Nearly impossible. In fact, it almost didn't happen. We nearly all died. Very dramatic, very unnecessary."

"Politics." Simon repeated.

Magnus nodded, "Now, I've thought this through. First you must locate the head of the London Institute. Her name was-is- Charlotte Brandwell. She is to be convinced first, then trusted. She'll do right by you if you prove your case-.

"And how, exactly, do we do that?" Jace cut him off, "Power Point presentations?"

"Good reference." Simon commended.

Jace nodded in appreciation, and continued, "This is ridiculous-even within our world."

Magnus bit his bottom lip. "I know. Believe me, I do. Which is why I was thinking about sending you when they would need you most. You help them out; give them a reason to trust you…and they might hear you out."

"A set up." Clary scrunched her nose, "That sounds wrong."

"Not if it truly helps them. And I think I can work this out, so hurry up and decide because you have about seven minutes and twenty-four seconds before I ship your butts out of here." He rose to his feet and motioned for Clary to follow him. "Let's set this thing up. Now."

Clary stood, but didn't move towards the Warlock, "It doesn't work that way. I can't just magically conjure up a time-travel rune and say 'Let's be at it then'."

Magnus held out a hand, "I know, Angel-girl, but we've got to try."

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-Kyd Chyme