The Infirmary of the Institute looked no different than it had the first time Clary had seen in only four months ago. Strange to think that so little time had passed, but then, time, she supposed, flew when you were having "fun".

If the whirlwind of the last four months could be called "fun".

Jace was leaning his head on her shoulder, quietly humming something, tracing out patterns on her arms. Runes, probably. Jace never really was much of an artist beyond that.

"What are you humming?" She asked him drowsily. They had been sitting together for a long time, and his lullaby was making her sleepy.

"A favorite of mine," His smile, for once, wasn't wolfish, but nostalgic. "I was playing it the first day we really met. Do you remember?"

She curled into his side a little farther and chuckled. "I was just thinking about it actually." She frowned suddenly as another stray memory floated into her head. "You burned my clothes."

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of her head. "It was for the best. And you just looked So. Good. In Isabella's."

She turned her head to glare at him. "I still don't believe it was really necessary."

His eyes flashed with a familiar superiority. "I regret nothing."

"Of course you don't," she muttered. Her gaze had unabashedly fallen on his lips and he smiled as he leaned into kiss her.

She almost scalded herself on the heat that came off of him in that moment. She pulled away just in time. "You need to work on that," she scolded.

He pouted, looking for all the world like a toddler who's favorite toy had been taken away. "It's not like it's something I'm trying to do."

Clary shook her head, partly bemused, partly annoyed. The universe, it seemed, was constantly scheming to keep them apart. "Yes, well—"

"Clary? Jace?" Isabelle's voice was followed by her sticking her head through the infirmary door. "Oh good you're not…indisposed."

Behind her, Jace laughed. For her own part, Clary struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. Isabelle's directness would never cease to disarm her. She settled for smiling, if a little cynically.

"No," Clary replied. "Quite the opposite. What's up?"

"We finally got that new trainer in—you know, to replace Hodge? Well she's here and she want's to meet both of you."

"She?" Clary asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't hate on girl-power," Isabelle teased. "But yes, 'She', and she's super nice too, so come on."

Isabelle disappeared back through the doorway and Clary and Jace rose slowly to follow, carefully working out the krinks in their joints from sitting still so long. In the hallway, Isabelle was waiting for them and together they started walking towards the training room.

"So Iz," jace started up, "What's the new lady's name?"

Isabelle's brow furrowed in concentration for a minute. "It was weird—gaelic or Irish I think. Started with an 'A'… Aingealceol? I think?"

Clary step falter for a minute. "Aingealceol? Really? Are you sure?"

Isabelle looked between she and Jace, confused. "Yeah…that sounds about right. Why?"

Clary shook her head. "It's…It's nothing" she said lamely. "Just sounds familiar."

"You probably heard about them somewhere in Idris," Jace supplied.

Isabelle looked back at the pair of them over her shoulder. "Jace is right, Clary. I think my mom said something about the Aingaelceol's running the Institute in Dublin—they're an old family."

"Right," Clary said quietly, wrapped up in her onw thoughts already.

When they reached the doors of the training room, Isabelle pushed them open, peering her head around the corner.

"Mom?" She asked. "I brought them up. They were in the Infirmary still."

The first thing Clary registered as she stepped into the room, as always, was the size of it, with the wooden beams rising high above her head for them to practice jumps and agility on. The entire place was study of worn our browns and it was something she had, on more than one occasion, had attempted to draw. Something had always stopped her from catching the true feel of the place though.

Standing on the floor in the middle of the room was Maryse, looking as coldly beautiful as ever. She was deeply engaged in conversation with a woman whose long tawny hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that fell about midway down her back—the new trainer. Both women looked up as the trio entered the room, the later smiling warmly at Clary.

"Clary," She breathed fondly, the one word tainted with the faintest for Irish accents. She held out her arms and Clary rushed to embrace her.

"It's good to see you," She mumbled into the older woman's shoulder.

"And you as well," replied Aingaelceol.

"How…?" Izzy asked Jace from a few paces away, bewilderment coloring her features.

Jace, however, was equally dumbfounded. "I have no idea."

Maryse smiled warmly. "So you too have met then? Carolyn, this is my son, Jace. Jace, this is Carlyn, the newest member of our little family."

Jace stepped forward to shake the proffered hand, but after he glanced between Clary's petit form and Carolyn's willowy one. "I'm sorry," he started, "But…how do you two know each other."

Carolyn's responding laugh was hearty. "Clary and my son have known each other for years. I wanted a little peace and quiet from the Clave and the politics of the Glass City after the Circle uprising and some other…tumultuous events in my life, and Jocelyn and I became fast friends once she realized I wasn't about to reveal her secret to anyone."

Clary smiled up at Carolyn. "Mrs. Aingaelceol is like a second mom to me, I guess. Speaking of Will though…does this mean he's home?"

Carolyn smiled. "He's downstairs waiting for me to finish up here. He's been eager to go meet up with you and Simon since we got home."

"That bastard," Clary muttered. "He never gave me the slightest notification that he was back, only that he wouldn't be home for school."

Carolyn frowned. "When things started heating up here with Valentine, I figured he was better off with Celia and Ky, away from all the drama."

Clary looked at her pointedly. "He still should have told me."

Carolyn chuckled. "Perhaps. I'm sure there's time to seek retribution though."

"Indeed," Clary said as she headed towards the door. "Oh, is he about to learn a lesson."

"Don't kill him," Carolyn called after Clary's retreating form. At notice of the Lightwood's bewildered looks, she smiled coquettishly. "I'd explain, but it's a long history."

"No," Jace said, stunned, "I think we get the jist of it."