So.. hi.
This is my first fanfic and it's a oneshot set after CoHF. It contains a bit of fluff(as much as I'm embarrassed to admit it). It's based on 'Best Friends' by the Janoskians. Listen to it if you haven't. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer : I don't own The Mortal Instruments nor do I own 'Best Friends'. Though if I had a choice I'd love to own the Janoskians. Hot, goofy teens - yes please.
Jace's muscles were screaming in protest. Sweat dripped off his exposed neck, staining the rafters upon which he was precariously balanced. He jumped, hurtling through the fifteen feet of air that separated him from the hard, wooden floor. He came to a stop, floating mid air, his nose almost brushing the floor, his heart beating at an unnaturally rapid pace from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He slowly began to unhook the safety harness and lowered himself to the floor with the grace of an angel.
Jace decided that he had had enough training for the day. But that was an understatement. For a normal shadowhunter the hours of rigorous training that Jace had done would be enough to last a week if not a month. But for Jace Herondale it was all in a day's work. After all, he didn't have abs of steel and a notorious reputation as a shadowhunter without reason.
He walked over to the bottle of water and poured it over his head. The water doused his already wet mop of golden hair and followed the planes and contours of the face that was envied by men and women alike. He grabbed a towel and dried the water,sweat and tiny bit of blood oozing from a nick to his forearm. He applied an iratze on the wound deftly with the stele in his left hand. He pulled off the heavy shadowhunter gear he usually trained in, opting instead for a black cotton t-shirt.
He walked out of the training room towards his bedroom in that eerily silent gait that all good shadowhunters seemed to be capable of. His mind wandered, thinking of how ordinary his life seemed nowadays. It all seemed - dare he say it? - mundane.
And quite frankly he rather enjoyed the peace. Ever since Clary's psychopath of a brother had stopped creating chaos, life had suddenly taken a turn for the peaceful. Sure there were the occasional encounters with demons. What would the Jace Herondale be if not for demons? But otherwise he was content with life, a phenomenon that had never happened before, mind you. He had a girlfriend that words couldn't possibly describe, he accepted the Lightwoods as his real family,everyone he cared about was safe and happy and did he mention his too-good-to-be-true girlfriend?
These days Clary was always on his mind regardless of time, place or occasion. The short redhead with green eyes and a just as short temper had permanently taken residence in every crevice of his was all really annoying to be honest. Especially when he was in the shower.
Speaking of showers... Jace reached his immaculate room or as Clary called it-Monk's haven. Not really her best work but Jace didn't say anything. He turned on the shower and flopped down on his bed, removing his shoes and sweat-drenched t-shirt and putting it in their assigned places. He grabbed his battered copy of 'A Tale of Two Cities' and resumed reading from where he stopped,seating himself comfortably at his desk.
It was only when the steam from the shower reached Jace's comfy spot that he stopped reading and fulfilled the real purpose of him coming to his room - to shower.
Jace came out fifteen minutes later. His hair was a shining halo of freshly washed golden hair and he had on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, just like the ensemble he had on no too long ago.
He resumed reading, planning on finishing the story of Charles Darnay soon. That plan was soon foiled when his stomach reminded him of another pressing matter that needed to be attended.
Jace made his way to the kitchen,wishing and hoping on everything holy that Izzy would not be there. He had never wished for Izzy to be making out with Simon more than he did at that moment. No such fortune. There stood Izzy at the counter,peering over the rim of a huge pot and mixing what would be to her the latest masterpiece in the culinary world and to others the latest way the black-haired beauty tried to get them killed.
"Jace, there you are. You're just the person I'm looking for."
Jace rolled his eyes to the ceiling and grumbled"I asked for one thing, just one thing."
"I found a recipe for southern gumbo online. Simon has been teaching me how to use the internet."
"Izzy, as interesting as that was, what does it have to do with me? I'm kind of starving at the moment."
"Did you not here the words 'southern gumbo' come out of my mouth?"
"A lot of things come out of your mouth,Iz. That doesn't mean I pay attention to it all. Honestly it's just too much work trying to sort the nonsensical crap from those actually worth hearing."
A wooden spoon whizzed through the air, aimed straight for Jace's head. If it hadn't been for his quick reflexes and timely ducking of head,his face would be sporting a rather unappealing blue-black welt the size of a tennis ball.
"Watch it woman. You could have damaged my money-maker and have had to answer to the angry mob of women demanding to spill your blood."
"If I can deal with a horde of raveners, I'm pretty sure I can deal with your pathetic fan club."
"Hey!"Jace protested. "My fan club deserves the utmost respect. They are my fan club after all."
"Yeah a bowl and spoon and pull up a seat."
"Like that's going to happen."Jace retorted. "Contrary to popular belief I don't have a death wish the size of Brooklyn."
Isabelle looked absolutely livid. Too bad she was out of cutlery. However at that minute Izzy looked ready to unleash her electrum whip. Jace looked pleased with himself. Piss off Izzy - check. Now he can go to bed with no regrets.
"Jonathan Christopher Herondale. You are exceeding your limit."
Jace sighed. Someone calling him by his full name was never a good sign. Especially if that someone was Isabelle Lightwood.
"Look Iz", Jace started tiredly "Simon's the one who's teaching you how to use the internet. He's the one who helped you find the recipe for whatever it is that you made. It's only fair that he be the first one to try your toxic - I mean,tasty new creation."
Izzy narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips firmly in a thin line as if trying to find fault with Jace's reasoning. Jace put on an innocent expression as if to say 'What did I do wrong? I was simply stating facts.'.
After a few tense moments had passed, Izzy gave her verdict.
"Fine, go find Simon."
"Your wish is my command, milady."
Jace grabbed a fresh,juicy red apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen table. He threw it and caught it midair as if to check its weight. He bit into the crunchy apple, its juice dribbling down his chin as he made his around the Institute to find Simon. He hummed softly to himself as he tried to hunt down Simon.
Jace had never thought even in his wildest dreams (the wildest dream he'd ever seen was of him bungee jumping from the top of the Eiffel tower,wearing nothing but a pair of dog antlers) that Simon Lewis, the geeky, unsuspecting mundane, would ever be who he was now - a shadowhunter.
After the big showdown with Sebastian when they couldn't get out of hell,Simon volunteered to give up his vampire immortality and his memories to Magnus's demon father in exchange for the safe transport for the rest of them.
The few months that followed hurt Jace the most. Seeing Clary so upset to lose her best friend of eleven years(now best friend of fifteen years), seeing Izzy so heartbroken and devoid of life... Jace would be lying if he said he hadn't missed the mousy brown haired teen. Jace Herondale may be many things but a liar was not one of them. Maybe omitter of truth but most certainly not a liar.
Then Magnus found Simon and helped him get back his memories. The Clave agreed to let Simon drink from the Mortal Cup. Clary and Simon became Parabatai. In the beginning Jace was jealous, extremely jealous. But then he remembered what a goofball Simon was.
Jace was walking past the many rooms in the Institute when he heard the creaking of a bed. He turned towards the noise. He could vaguely make out muffled noises behind the wooden door.
He recognized Clary's voice. "...the fucking best night ever."Most men might have been alarmed. Finding their girlfriend in a room, the bed creaking, very suggestive phrases being heard. But not Jace. The complete and utter faith he had in Clary was astounding. It almost made you believe that true love does exist.
All the same Jace was curious. What could Clary possibly be doing? The only place Jace had heard Clary use such 'filthy language' -her words, not his- was the one place that warranted it.
He turned the door knob. The sight before him was one for a Kodak moment. At least that's what Jace thought it was called.
There were two figures - one lean and tall and the other lean and short. Clary and Simon were jumping around the bed in what might be cheesy dance moves. Either that or they were having an actual case of ants-in-the-pants. An iPod was swinging wildly between the pair,an ear bud lodged so deep inside their ears that Jace thought it was playing directly into their brains.
"I can't remember all the shit that we said last night, last night.
We probably won't remember what we did, last night, last night.
I'd rather be right here, tonight with you, than with anybody else in the world.
I'd rather be right here, tonight with you, than with anybody else in the world."
Jace leaned against the door frame. He crossed his arms across his chest. He tilted his head and observed the amusing scene before him. They were belting out the lyrics. They were lost in their worlds,living in their own personal bubble.
"Best friends, you are my fucking best friends.
Yo honestly, this is the best night ever."
"I believe that's what Clary said last night, "he remarked loudly
At that point Jace couldn't stop himself. All the witty remarks that he'd been holding back for the past thirty seconds were eating him alive.
Clary and Simon turned towards the interruption,startled.
"Oomph", came Simon's voice. Clary's feet caught at Simon's ankle bringing them both down in an ungraceful heap. They groaned. They extricated themselves from the pile of their flailing limbs. They were rubbing their throbbing injuries.
'Babies. They fell on a damn mattress. What sort of pain are they in?'Jace mused.
"Jace,what are you doing here?"asked Clary.
"The missus is looking for Simon. She demands a lab rat to test her new gumbo on. Who better than idiotic rat face who taught her how to find recipes on the internet?"
Simon groaned yet again. Jace was enjoying his sticky predicament.
"Shouldn't have done that. It just might be the worst mistake I ever made."
"No mistake's worse than your decision to name your band 'Ding-a-lings'."said Clary.
Jace chuckled.
Simon made his way to the door,albeit reluctantly. As Simon passed Jace he patted Simon on the shoulder as if encouraging him.
"I wish I could say it's been nice knowing you but you've just been a big pain in my ass."
Simon just walked on,sans retort. It was unusual. He must have been really worried for his life.
Clary walked up to Jace and smacked him upside the head.
"Ow."For someone so tiny, she sure packed a punch, or rather smack."What the hell was that for?"
"Can't you ever be nice to him? He's your girlfriend's best friend and will be your brother-in-law soon enough."
"I thought Alec was dating Magnus."
Clary walked out with an indignant huff. Jace followed her.
"Clary,can I ask you something?"
Clary didn't reply.
"Do you prefer Simon or me?"
"Simon,of course. You know it's best friend before boyfriend. It goes father,husband,best friend and lastly boyfriend. Always has been, always will be"
"Then let me be your husband."With that Jace walked off. He could hear Clary stammering and spluttering behind him. A few seconds later heard the patter of feet. Thin,elegant arms wrapped around his neck from behind and he heard a single word.
"Yes."
There you have it folks. Review and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism -not only do I accept it but I expect it.
Ciao.