Disclaimer: Jace and Clary and Simon totally belong to Cassandra Clare. And, I mean, the names of the kids are based off of her characters' names, but hey. The plot is indeed mine, though. :) Please review any comments/corrections/critiques/anything else that starts with C and fits here.

Jace kissed his little daughter's forehead and pulled her covers up to her chin. "Sleep well." He turned off the lights and walked out of the room.

Jace heard Clary call from their bedroom as he walked by to put his older son Max to bed. He saw a beautiful, stressed out, tired redhead who had given him two children and a definition for the word "happiness". She was curled up in bed, exhausted after a long day. Simon was bedridden for at least a week with a recent injury, she was getting worried with Max's schooling, and studying quite a bit on her own. She certainly had a lot on her plate; all Jace wanted to do was help her. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her, laying next to her.

"Hold me tighter."
He complied, and she snuggled into his arms. He hated the fact that he would have to get up and complete a task before she could fall asleep in his arms.

"I still have to put Max to bed. You can come with. That little boy always brings a smile to my face."

She agreed, and Jace slowly unwrapped himself from his wife. They held hands as they went downstairs, finding Max reading a picture book on the couch in the living room. Jace held a finger to his lips to Clary as he silently crept up on their firstborn. Quick as lightning, Jace scooped his son up and deposited him on his shoulder. Max erupted into a fit of laughter, resulting in a smile from his mother and a grin from his father. Clary stepped in to take his book before it fell, holding the page.

Jace gasped dramatically, "Your shirt fell."

Max's eyes widened in horror.
The horror turned to more laughter as Jace started tickling the boy's exposed sides, not phased at all by the kicking feet against his back.
Clary was laughing too, but she remembered their little girl in her bed. She hissed at Jace, "You're going to wake Jocie!"

Jace grinned playfully at her, knowing how their five-year-old slept like a rock. He was still tickling Max.
"Oh, do I need to start tickling you too?"
Max, through giggles, managed to shout out a yes.
"Well, it won't be on your tummy," he said in a low voice.
"Jace" Clary spat. There was a child right there. It was the child who replied, in a tone used by seven-year-old boys when they say something inappropriate.

"Yeah- it'll be- on your armpits." He managed through the laughter.

Jace's smile widened as he replied to Clary in the same tone. "Yeah, Mommy, your armpits."

Jace finally terminated his tormentous tickling to peck Clary on the lips.

"Ewwwwww"
Right, seven-year-old still there.

"Okay, Max, ready for bed?" Jace started back up the stairs, son still over his shoulders, Clary close behind the two of them.
"I want a story!"
"Which story do you want to hear?" Jace now spoke in a quieter tone, as the proximity to his sleeping daughter had lessened. She did have limits to how deep she could sleep.

"The one about the boy and the falcon."

Jace put Max into bed, pulled up his covers, and told him the story of a boy about his age, a bird, and the never ending adventures the two had together. Max was a Shadowhunter, and he would learn enough about death and destruction as he grew. For now, Jace was happy letting his son and daughter be happy children who lived and grew in a loving environment. Just that much made Jace and Clary happier than they could have ever imagined.

Author's note: This is a one shot, and it is the end of this fic. I hope you enjoyed it, because you probably won't see anything from me for another long gap. I am so crazy with homework this year. I'm taking AP World History, and it is craziness. The idea for this story struck when I was in the middle of homework for that class, so yeah. (Also I'm taking pre-calc and absolutely loving it! :D I love math!)