A/N

There's not enough good Malec fanfiction in the world. It is my goal to fix that. Whether or not I succeed will be entirely for you to decide.

The time of this is post-City of Heavenly Fire, but pre-CoHF epilogue. There are quite a few months there left entirely open, so I thought I'd have some fun with them. Just before the epilogue, Alec talks about going back to New York to celebrate New Year's without his parents, so I'm going with early January 2008 as my timeframe.

Warning: Parts of this refer to The Bane Chronicles. None will be essential to the plot of this fanfiction, but it does contain some minor spoilers.

Cassie

Alexander Gideon Lightwood snapped the book shut with a soft thud. It had been two weeks since Magnus had given him the book, and he'd read it more than once, eagerly absorbing the knowledge held within its pages. There was something strangely intimate about reading of Magnus' past, especially when the warlock addressed Alec throughout the stories. Each time, it made his heart stutter.

The most painful part had been reading about Camille. Somehow, reading of Etta, the kindly mundane lady whom Magnus had loved before Alec, had not been quite the same. Alec had met Camille, and he'd always found it difficult to understand how and why Magnus had loved her in the way he so clearly had. It all made sense now, of course. That didn't make his heart ache any less, nor stop him wanting to throw a few seraph blades at demons. Jace had been very helpful with that. Though the thick, black ichor that had soaked his favourite sweatshirt afterwards and refused to wash out was disappointing. Perhaps Magnus was rubbing off on him.

Camille was manipulative. Alec understood that now far more than he had when he'd first met her. She'd manipulated him to betray Magnus, and she'd manipulated Magnus himself, long ago in the Victorian smog of London. Alec wished that he'd known about Camille before he'd met her – perhaps then he wouldn't have been so foolish.

The young Shadowhunter pushed the book to the side as the Institute bell rung. Maryse and Robert were still in Idris with the Consul, and had contacted him three days earlier to say that the treaty with the fair folk was talking longer than expected to draw up. Honestly, Alec had enjoyed the responsibility of running the Institute for a couple of weeks.

Isabelle was already walking down the hallway towards Maryse's office, which Alec had been occupying over the time he'd been running the place. (Jace found this hilarious, of course.) Her high-heeled boots clopped a staccato rhythm of disapproval across the stone floors, which perfectly mirrored the expression on her face. Alec noted with a pang of alarm that her hands were coated in ichor.

"What's going on?" he asked, frowning.

"There was a demon attack on the wolf pack," Isabelle said, causing Alec's frown to deepen. Demons attacking Downworlders wasn't common - especially not the werewolves, who had a viscous bite. No pun intended.

"The young ones," clarified a familiar voice. Maia Roberts stepped out, and Alec understood where the ichor on Isabelle's hands had come from. Maia was covered with the stuff. "Jace and Clary were around. They were pissed the hell off."

Alec smiled to himself, despite the situation. He could just imagine Jace's anger at children being attacked.

"Any casualties?" he asked, not sitting down in Maryse's chair when they reached her office. That was too far even for him.

"No," Maia said, flicking her braid back from her shoulder. "We kicked some demon ass, though."

Alec hadn't had much interaction with Maia - that was more Simon's area, from what he'd heard - but something about her tended to make him wary of sounding like a complete idiot. She was flippant, and too like Isabelle for his liking. Put them both in a room together? Pff. There were other places he'd rather be.

"Demons don't technically have asses," Isabelle pointed out. "Well, not all of them."

Alec nearly rolled his eyes. "Do you want us to patrol?" He directed his question at Maia.

"We don't need Shadowhunter help. Just thought you should know."

"Right." Alec didn't have a clue what he was meant to say.

"I wanted to talk to Isabelle," Maia said, "so it seemed like a relevant thing to mention."

"Come on," Isabelle said, shooting Alec a mocking smirk. "Let's go."

The two girls left the room, leaving Alec none the wiser. Was Maia here to talk about Simon, again? He'd seen the look Clary had given Maia the other day, when she'd been at the Institute to moan about Simon and how much his lack of memory hurt her. Clary, it seemed, was bored of Maia's apparent whining, despite the friendship that had been between them for a while. Frankly, Alec wasn't particularly impressed either (didn't she have responsibilities as the head of the wolf pack?) but he didn't want to make himself unpopular with the Downworlders, so he left it be. After all, Maia was, he supposed, Isabelle's friend. And she had cared about Simon.

He pushed open his bedroom door, and picked up his phone. A new one, after Jace had decided to smash the old one when he'd been moping over Magnus and the break-up.

Although Magnus had given Alec the book, they'd barely spoken since returning from Idris. Alec supposed that Magnus had been giving him some space to read and get his thoughts in order after their chat on the roof had been rudely and embarrassingly interrupted by the return of a heartbroken Isabelle.

He felt a distinct sense of déjà vu as he scrolled through his contacts for Magnus' number. He'd read the book as much as he wanted to, but he really wanted to talk to Magnus himself now. It was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation bubbling in his stomach that he called Magnus' cell, and waited for him to pick up.

Alec only hoped he did pick up, after all the times he hadn't.

Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, had been busy. While the Shadowhunters could relax, comparatively, and go out to slay a few demons for fun after the devastation of the Dark War, he had more important matters to attend to.

For example, that day, he'd overcharged a werewolf to unenchant a retriever who had got the idea into its head that said werewolf was its mother.

Oh, the joys.

His second, incredibly important task, had been to decide which shade of shocking lime green to paint his living room walls. He'd been partial to the firetruck red, but he'd used dark orange in the bathroom, and his waistcoat was red. It wouldn't do to have one's outfit clash with one's walls.

The third item on his agenda had taken place every afternoon (and the majority of the rest of his time besides). Sitting on his sofa, Chairman Meow curled up on his shoulder, glancing nervously at his phone every two minutes.

Alright. He'd lasted eighty-three seconds once. Two minutes was stretching it.

He hadn't heard so much as a peep from Alec since they'd returned to New York, and he was worried. Worried that: a) something in there had put Alec off, b) he'd changed his mind for some other inexplicable reason, c) Alec was avoiding him, or d) he was dead. The last one didn't worry him quite so much. He was sure that if Alec was dead, someone (probably Isabelle) would have called him by now to demand that he bring him back.

Magnus' phone rang.

Just like always, Magnus lunged towards it. Sadly, this time, The Chairman was asleep. His cat screeched, leaping sideways, causing Magnus to sprawl sideways and land with one leg at an odd angle, foot jabbed under the sofa, and his arms sideways, cheek squished gorgeously into the arm.

Magnus decided that this was probably his most ungraceful movement since the oh-so-wonderful year of 1923, in which he'd got himself a tad tipsy (Catarina said he was drunk, but he wasn't convinced), and had ended up in a fight with a vampire. He didn't remember much of it, except getting a brand new, glittery t-shirt ruined with a glass of brandy thrown at it.

Some people had no respect for good fashion tastes.

Magnus let out an audible growl of annoyance when the words 'unknown number' flashed on his screen. All that lack of grace, and for nothing. The only person he cared about speaking to was Alec. God, he was getting soppy. Raphael had been right.

Raphael was also dead.

Magnus pushed the thoughts away, and instead reached for his phone, ready to give whoever had dared to interrupt his Lightwood musing an earful. One specific Lightwood, obviously. He hadn't been comparing Alec's sweet-as-sin blue eyes to the dodgy green ones of a certain Gabriel Lightwood.

Although the contrast was startling.

"What?" Magnus snapped, maybe just a little petulantly. "What do you want?"

"Oh." The voice on the end of the phone crackled, and Magnus cursed the bad reception. He couldn't tell whose voice it was. "I—"

"Hurry up about it. I'm not in the mood for sorting out petty feuds."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "Magnus, are you drunk?"

Magnus jerked upright, causing Chairman Meow to fly off in terror. "Alexa— Alec?"

The voice at the other end of the line laughed, sounding bewildered. "Who else— Oh. I never gave you my new phone number."

Magnus pulled a face. "Why did you get a new phone?"

"Because Jace broke it."

"Jace broke your phone?"

"I was calling and texting you too much."

Oh. That made sense.

"But anyway," Alec continued, "that's not why I called."

"No?" A flicker of hope lit in Magnus' heart. He'd been beginning to truly doubt Alec's return. It had been so many days since they'd spoken, even longer since they'd seen each other, and neither of them had mentioned getting back together or the book Magnus had written. There was so much more Magnus wanted to say. Once he'd started writing, the words had poured out. And he found himself wanting to tell Alec more and more. About some of his other adventures in Peru, about Marie Anoinette, about the party in 1923...

"No," Alec confirmed, snapping Magnus from his thoughts. "I read the book."

"Ok."

Alec sounded suddenly uncertain. "And, I, uh, well, I—"

While it was endearing, Magnus wanted to know what Alec had to say. Although, it did remind him adorably of when they'd first started dating, and Alec had dropped a drink everywhere – over himself and Magnus' floor. That had been the first time Magnus had seen Alec without a shirt on. The Angel had graced his warriors with some damn good abs.

"What?" Magnus asked softly.

"I was wondering if we could...talk."

Magnus' lips twitched up. "We are talking."

"I meant in person."

"Are you inviting yourself to my glamorous apartment?"

Alec immediately attempted to backpedal. "I don't— I mean, if you don't want me to, then we could go to Taki's or something, I just thought that the risk of being overheard in private is lower."

"Have you got any demon-slaying activities this afternoon?"

"No, but Jace—"

"Can spend a few extra hours snogging his girlfriend. He'll be grateful, really."

Alec snorted. "All Jace has been doing for the last two weeks is snogging his girlfriend, making eyes at his girlfriend, having sex with his girlfriend, then training with his girlfriend immediately followed by sex with his girlfriend."

"Has Clary been complaining?"

"Have yourself a wild guess."

"Do you still have the keys?"

"What, to your apartment? No. You took them back, remember?"

Magnus did not remember. He'd probably used magic to steal them back while he was drinking himself out of his misery soon after the break-up, but he decided not to tell Alec that.

"Then buzz. I'm at home."

"Thanks," Alec murmured, before the line went dead.

Magnus sat back and exhaled. He still wasn't entirely sure whether or not Alec was about to say that they couldn't be together or whether he was going to beg Magnus to take him back. The warlock had already assured Alec of his feelings while they'd sat on the roof, and their kiss had sealed all those unspoken maybes, but Shadowhunters were so unpredictable.

Magnus jumped up when the buzz sounded through the apartment. Just a single syllable spoken in Alec's voice, and Magnus was telling the young Lightwood to come up.

Magnus was strangely nervous when he opened the door and Alec walked in. But, apparently, not as nervous as Alec, who tugged at the collar of his tasteless sweater as he walked in. Alec proceeded to shift from one foot to the other, awkwardly, while Magnus just watched him.

"Alec, whatever you've come to say, just say it."

Alec stilled, and sighed. "Did you mean what you said on the roof?"

"I meant all of it. Which particular snippet are you referring to?"

"The bit where you said we could get back together, if I- if I wanted to."

Magnus had to consciously stop himself walking forwards and kissing Alec. He was too damn adorable. How could the boy - the man, even - be so insecure, even after the book and the kiss?

"I meant that too." Magnus nodded to the book Alec was holding in his left hand. "That was proof. I have never given anyone what I gave you."

"Not Camille?"

"No." Magnus took a step towards Alec, all uncertainty fading from him. Frankly, it had gone the moment Alec had walked into his apartment. If the Shadowhunter had decided that his future didn't lie with a warlock, he'd have said so pretty quickly. "I didn't love Camille like I love you. She certainly didn't love me."

Magnus moved forwards again, and circled Alec's wrist with his fingers. Alec looked unsure, still. It had been a while since Alec had looked at him in that way, and for some reason, it stung. While it was irrational, Magnus got the feeling that Alec didn't trust him.

The moment evaporated, and Magnus moved back slightly. He looked into Alec's deep blue eyes, which had always reminded him of Will Herondale.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking down the couple of inches into Alec's open face. Alec wasn't being his usual, blunt self. He was being careful. And care scared Magnus.

"Nothing." Alec looked away from Magnus' eyes for a split second, but that tiny fraction of time was enough to heighten the warlock's suspicions.

Magnus folded his arms. "Who's the one hiding things now?"

Alec looked instantly panicked. "No, no! Honestly, it's nothing. I'm just worried."

Magnus softened his gaze and uncrossed his arms. "What about?"

"This." Alec gestured between the two of them. "By the Angel, I don't even know why I'm worried, I just am."

"Now, how do I stop you being worried?" Magnus mused, tapping his chin lightly.

Magnus reached towards Alec, grasped his elbows, and pulled him forwards. Their lips came together harshly, and Alec's hands moved to the warlock's neck, holding him there. Magnus was aware of how much Alec was dominating their kiss, but, somehow, he didn't care. Alec bit down on Magnus' lower lip. the warlock let out a gasp, but it was swallowed by their heated kisses. The kiss was wildfire, consuming them.

Alec pulled away after a moment, but didn't move his hands from Magnus' body. "That worked," he said, apparently nonchalant and unaffected. Magnus knew better by the telltale signs of his rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Good." He touched Alec's cheek, running his thumb over the cheekbone. He pressed his lips against Alec's again, gently and slowly, with less urgency than their last kiss.

"Does this mean we're together again?" Alec asked, back to his normal, blunt self. Magnus was relieved.

"It does on my end," Magnus mumbled, pressing kisses down Alec's neck.

"Mine too."

"Alexan— Alec—"

"You know," Alec said, smiling, "I never really minded you calling me that."

"Alexander?"

Alec nodded. "But at the time, I was slightly bitter."

"Have you gotten over that?" Magnus asked. "Because while my talents are many, I can't change the past, or who I have or have not been in a relationship with."

"I think I'll survive."

"I've no doubt you will. You're a Lightwood. They tend to stick around. Unless they get Demon Pox," he added, thinking back to Victorian London.

Alec was staring at him as though he were crazy. Magnus wasn't surprised. He probably seemed it. Then, Alec wrinkled his nose as though experiencing some unpleasant stench.

"What have you been eating?" he demanded, coughing.

"Take-outs."

"What, blood and raw meat?"

"Don't insult the Downworlders."

Alec huffed. "You are not a vampire or a werewolf, and it stinks in here."

"And it took you this long to notice?" Magnus raised his eyebrows.

"I was preoccupied."

Magnus shot him an amused look. "By?"

"Shut up," Alec mumbled, looking away and flushing.

"You should blush more often," Magnus commented. "It's cute."

"That was nearly as terrible as when you called me sweet pea."

Magnus smirked. His fingertips crackled with blue sparks, and his apartment began to right itself and clear away. Alec had been right. Magnus couldn't remember the last time he'd cleared up, and it did smell, though not of blood and raw meat. He hadn't been that desperate.

"Does that suit your delicate nose?" Magnus asked over his shoulder as he moved to the coffee machine. Alec liked coffee. He figured that coffee would be a good way forward.

Alec gave him a look. "I am a demon hunter. I spend my days covered in ichor and runes and general crap. I do not have a delicate nose."

"How do you feel about a new scarf?" Magnus changed the subject, hiding his grin.

"What?"

"I said—"

"We're indoors, and it's not cold enough to warrant a scarf."

Magnus shrugged. "That wasn't why I asked. Last time I suggested a scarf you got upset about being the newest thing in the apartment. I never got a response about the scarf itself."

The dark look on Alec's face told Magnus that he remembered this incident. That had not been the first thing which had suggested that something wasn't right in their relationship. Magnus hoped that now he wasn't hiding his past, they'd get past it.

But all Alec said in response was, "You kept that scarf?"

"Of course. I might have worn it a few times, but—"

"I don't want a scarf."

"Glittery cardigan?"

Alec spluttered, and Magnus laughed, thrusting the coffee into his hands instead.

"I hate you," Alec said, scowling.

"Don't you think it's a little early in our rescued relationship to be expressing our hatred? I was thinking more of a romantic date and maybe some making-out."

Alec groaned. "Don't take me on the subway. Please."

Magnus blinked, perplexed.

"Don't you remember what happened on our first date?" Alec prompted.

"Oh, that." The warlock chuckled. "That mugger won't be stealing wallets again."

"That's not the point."

"We can go out some other time. We'll avoid the subway. But I was more thinking a romantic date in."

"Oh. I think I can accommodate that."

"Somewhere you need to be?"

"Mom and Dad are still in Idris. I'm running the Institute. I probably shouldn't stay here overnight."

"I'm sure the Herondale will be happy to cover you for a night. He likes being rude to people."

"What if he stays at Clary's?"

"I doubt he will. One, he'll run away the moment they start talking about weddings, and two, Jocelyn won't condone making-out in her house."

Alec bit his lip. Magnus noticed this.

"But if you want to go home, that's fine."

"We've only just started dating again," Alec said. "I'm not sure we should jump right back in."

"Fair enough." Magnus could understand this. "Do you want to go out somewhere tomorrow?"

"Ok," Alec replied, "but I wasn't planning on going now."

"Excellent." Magnus clapped his hands together. "Now, about that scarf..."

"Magnus," Alec said warningly.

"You're no fun, Alexander."