Author's Note: Idea gotten from my very own prompt: Magnus is stalking a club. Okay, kidding. But that aside...

Here's where I got the idea of Magnus seeing Alec and wanting Alec even before they've been introduced.

4. Often he goes to the Pandemonium and leans against a wall, sipping a pink drink. He hasn't told the group yet, but he was there the night Clary discovered she was not just a mundane. He recognized Clary. But his eyes focused on the one dark haired boy – the same boy he'd seen from the previous nights, where he stood against the wall and sipped his pink drink. Every night. The thought has never occurred to him. And he'll never tell them, because Alec would only look at him with judging blue eyes. Because, really, if he told the Shadowhunters he hung around the Pandemonium, every single night, just so he could catch a glimpse of the blue eyed Shadowhunter, they'd think he was pathetic. And he was. Only, he didn't want to tell them. Because he was High Warlock of Brooklyn. High Warlocks weren't supposed to get weak in the knees when a cute Shadowhunter – of all kinds – passed him by.

Quoted from my own fic: 10 Things You Didn't Know About Magnus Bane.

Okay, so it started from Sunday. And let's just all assume Magnus was there for the next few days until he just gave up on Saturday because he had a rocking party. Titled 'Pandemonium' for very obvious reasons.

Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I did, though. Sigh.

Oh and I reposted this because of some few technical errors.

Pandemonium

What was a simple day off to other people was like a month off for somebody like Magnus Bane. And by 'other people', it should be implied that 'other people' equals mundane. Meaning, his level was nowhere close to theirs, and that they could only dream, and they always dreamed about magic, didn't they? But really, a day off, even a simple weekend off without any guests to entertain, no distress call to answer to, nothing to break up, it was relaxing. And all he would be doing, all he would be pleasing would be his lovely and magnificent self.

And thus he was propped against a wall, a pink drink in his hand, his dark hair – although not entirely spiked, had its tips dipped in a strange blue, giving him that electrifying look, as if he didn't give that off wherever he went. His glittery glossed lips were pursed as he watched the crowd.

Everybody seemed to come here, what was it called? Oh, yes, the Pandemonium. Mundanes, excessively sexy and fabulous warlocks – or just warlock, really, what warlock could work like him? – Like himself, and somewhere off the other side of the room, behind all the mashed up bodies, was a demon. But he didn't really care much about the demon; all he cared about right now was not minding the mess and actually screwing something up without the thought of getting in trouble after.

Unlike parties at his own house, clubbing was exciting, and in a sense, relaxing. Because who was he to take care of anyone here? There was a mix of everyone, truly no one would notice if something was amiss, yes? And Magnus Bane would not have to separate the fangs and claws from ripping each other's throats, and he would not even need to worry about guests eating themselves, because this wasn't his house, he was in a club.

One of the loudest clubs, he's heard. And now that he was actually here, he could say, with a definite nod, that it was living up to its name.

Magnus looked around once more, and this time, as he pushed off his little corner to party it up like a teenager – because he wasn't, but that didn't mean he didn't look like one, and that obviously did not mean he couldn't party it up like any of them, because Magnus Bane's parties were parties of the century, and not just the decade. And he's had a lot of centuries and a lot of parties, and all of them never disappointed. Except, of course, for the occasional lost limbs from guests, but that just fell under 'technicalities', and in a way did not really matter that much.

But he was here for a mission. And that was to pay a Kelpie to distribute flyers about his party, one that would be beyond anyone's imaginations. Of course, that was always to be expected.

He dropped his cup down, the pink, strawberry sweet taste lingering in his mouth. He could see everybody in this darkness, and over there in a corner, with a strange, wiggling friend, was a carrot top he recognized. His eyes squinted for a moment, not even minding how a woman, dressed in such tight clothes, had run her finger down his chest.

He gave her a repulsed look, but then his mouth curled and he lifted a hand up to catch her finger in his own palm. Magnus Bane was not one for women who threw themselves at him, although it was flattering that he could still attract the bunch, but really, he was not all that for women, point ended.

Instead of pushing her off though, Magnus, in his insane height, leaned down and grazed her cheek with a long fingernail. Ah, Mundanes. And the sound of her gasp. But as she raised her lips to meet his, Magnus just pulled away and ran a glittery hand through his semi-spiked, semi-down glittered hair and walked away.

"I don't roll that way, sweetie." Magnus said, and as always, there was an ickly sort of sweetness to his voice, one that was always alluring, and one that could send you thinking, not twice, but more like thrice.

As soon as he stepped away from the woman, though, he now found himself surrounded by a thick mob of dancing teenagers, and for a moment, he hesitated, but then he just threw his head back and laughed, his laugh mixing with the upbeat music and with the cheers from everybody else.

Magnus was just as busy doing his insane body waves – because he was a sexy warlock and he could bend and dance and move just anyway he wanted, provided it didn't require much strength, because he was a warlock, after all, and not some muscle-building Shadowhunter, or any of their likes.

When Magnus hit something though, and it stiffened, didn't really wave with him, he stopped and turned away. There, in the darkness, his own greenish-gold and beautiful cat-like eyes met with the most dazzling blues.

And without even much thought of whether this one was a Mundane or not, he grabbed the shorter boy by the collar of his shirt and gave a smile, his teeth just barely showing, and his eyes inviting.

"Dance with me?" Magnus purred, much like how a cat would, and his hold on the boy's collar loosened. The blue eyed beauty looked up at him, his cheeks a red, whether from anger or it was just a blush of embarrassment, Magnus couldn't really tell.

His hand came to encircle around Magnus's wrist, and Magnus felt electricity throughout his body – yes, it was another catch, but no. That was not the case, because the boy squeezed tightly, as if unsure at first, and Magnus's fingers dropped from his collar to his side, his eyes wide now with shock.

"That hurts, but if you're one for pain, then I can give it a go." Magnus tried to sound unconcerned, but the next red light that passed over them, from the many lights from above, was one that made him recoil, because then he saw, in that split second of full light, the boy's wrist, and the tattoo that run down his arm, the symbols so familiar to him, although not really his to familiarize.

"Shadowhunter." Magnus breathed through his teeth, and the grip on his hand loosened.

Magnus was not expecting the reaction though, he expected something snarky, something cocky and arrogant, but instead, the boy dropped his hold on Magnus's wrist, and the warlock started to rub at it, feeling the blood run through his fingers again.

"How did you-" He staggered back. Okay, so maybe he just thought Magnus was some perverse gay teenager who wanted some fun, and not somebody who actually knew of him, of what he was. But nope, he got the other end of the stick. The sexier, more incredible end of the stick.

When another light flashed above the both of them, the Shadowhunter looked up at Magnus's face and only then noticed his eyes.

"Warlock." He said, disbelief, and then with slight disgust. Okay, maybe not so much as disgust but fear. Because he was just groped – in a sense – by a warlock.

"Yes, yes. Now I take it you don't want to dance with me-?" Magnus never got an answer because the next time he blinked, the blue eyed wonder of a Shadowhunter had melted into the crowd.

And that's when it clicked.

Aside from the way he just flirted with one of the Nephilim, no, it was that there was a demon, and there was a Shadowhunter. From past experiences, he could assume he wasn't alone.

And there was Clarrisa Fray as well.

Not good, had he just gotten himself in the middle of anything serious?

"Bane, you don't care." He reminded himself and tossed his head back. "Besides, the girl doesn't remember. It's all just a coincidence." Magnus added, but even with that assurance, he stepped away from the crowd and took a deep, steadying breath.

Well, if any Downworlders were here – and they were, he could tell, though not all were demons. Or a demon, at this point. – then it wasn't very surprising to find a Shadowhunter here.

When he started down towards the exit, his eyes caught red and Clarissa was there, just outside a door.

"Does she even know what she's getting herself into?"

But Magnus knew, before everybody else, that the worst was yet to come. That it had started with this chance encounter.

And as he walked away, he saw, there, the Shadowhunter from earlier, his dark hair striking, even in their dim lighting, and his own blue eyes shining like beacons. Magnus caught his eye and winked, and the boy blushed, before hurrying into the room.

Clarissa had turned around, had talked to her Mundane friend. If she knew better, if her gut would just will her to move, tell her to stay away from business that would never be hers to deal with, then things would have been better, things would have probably changed.

But she didn't, and Magnus watched as she slipped inside.

But it was not the danger of her life his heart was racing for, rather, it was the same, Shadowhunter earlier, the one with the blue eyes.

"You know what they say about blue eyes…" Magnus muttered slowly to himself, turning around.

It was a different day now, and Magnus Bane was back at the Pandemonium. What, of course he was here to party! Well, okay, quite truthfully, he had just been here yesterday, and the place wasn't as packed as it was the day before. But he stuck around, danced a little bit, circled the room, even had some few drinks. And in that time he chatted up a vampire, a conversation he soon got bored with after five minutes.

The Pandemonium attracts everyone.

"Not everyone, well, not a second time, anyway." Magnus said under his breath, and the drink in his hand, half empty, was thrown to the floor.

And with that he made his most graceful exit.

Friday, and Magnus was back at the Pandemonium. Once or twice, he swore he saw the familiar blue eyes, but they did not connect to the same face, to the same person. He sighed, and ran a glittery hand through his hair. It was down today, much like his mood.

But why would he care in the first place, anyway?

"What the hell, Magnus Bane." Magnus hissed, almost close to being frustrated. What was he doing, anyway?

He was stalking in a club!

Hoping for the Shadowhunter – who probably hated all Downworlders and him the most because he actually made to flirt with the guy, but still! No, that was rejection.

And Magnus never got rejected.

Never.

Except, maybe, by Chairman Meow, but cats don't count. Not most of the time, anyway.

That Shadowhunter would never come back. Had they not learned from their nature? Had he not watched, for centuries on end, how their kind were? Obviously, he didn't know enough, because he was attracted to a Shadowhunter who probably would wring his neck the next time they crossed paths.

Although that blush sort of said otherwise…

There was no hope, no hope whatsoever about stalking a club. He probably looked like some sort of hooker of sorts, waiting, waiting for somebody to pick him up. And no, that was not the case. Though his mind did wonder what would happen if he was picked up, not just by anyone, too. But by that blue eyed-

No. Magnus, shut up, do not go along those lines. Shadowhunters are not your kind.

Even if he had beautiful blue eyes and the cutest blush – even in the darkness – and made you just want to melt if he looked at you again…No, Magnus, you are never going back there.

And besides, his party was up and running.

Well, almost.

He cast a glance around his flat and then nodded.

Everything was where it should be. Meaning: Gone. Out of sight. Except for a few tables, that was all. No chairs, nothing.

"Ah, Chairman Meow…Have I neglected you for too long?" He purred, rubbing the small cat behind the ears. He purred and licked Magnus's cheek affectionately before the warlock placed him down, a smile brightening his face, for the first time that day.

When somebody rang for him, Magnus just tilted his head back and ushered a few Kelpies away. When the buzzer rang like mad, Magnus just wanted to snap his fingers and burn the one idiot who couldn't wait.

Flinging the door open, Magnus glared down at the kids – Nephilim, he thought, and there was a string that pulled his heart at that point. What if it's-

"Magnus? Magnus Bane?" A slender, tall girl said, her smile as bright as diamonds. Magnus looked past her, and his eyes landed on Clary. There was only a second of recognition that passed through them, before he averted his eyes back at the others.

"That would be me."

Waving the invitation in the air, she gestured to everyone around. "I have an invitation. These are my friends."

Magnus didn't need to look twice, or need her to repeat, because just then, his eyes connected with those familiar blue eyes, the same blue eyes he'd seen in his dreams the past few days.

And a blush crept up the boy's face, and Magnus's lips curled into a barely noticeable smile.

Be my guests, children.

It was them, he knew. It was him.

Obviously, he noticed Magnus as the same collar-grabbing warlock who'd asked him to dance, and Magnus just noticed him as the beautiful Shadowhunter with the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen in his eight hundred years, and not the disgusted and probably shocked Shadowhunter who almost cut off his blood circulation. That was saying something.

"Come in and try not to murder my guests."

Oh yes, please come in.

Author's Note: I'm sorry that Magnus Bane is such a stalker in this fic and that he's probably hovering on obsessing over a certain blue eyed beauty named Alec Lightwood even before he got his name but seriously. What Magnus wants, Magnus gets. Well, Magnus SHOULD get. And he got it, anyway. It came to him. Hehhh. Oh well.

Reviews are much appreciated! It's been a while since I've written a fanfic. And I'm not sure how this came out...