Name: Waking up with you
Author: MeryKey
Raiting: PG13 (pretty much, I think)
Genre: Romance
Summary: A thought's been circling Jace's mind for a while...
Author's Note: This is a very fluffy story. I think fluff is what I need now, after reading City of Fallen Angels. It's set after all 6 books, so since we don't really know what'll happen on Book 5 and 6, I've vaguely mentioned certain things that may happen, but it's not really the point of the story. Just FYI.


The room was dark to his groggy eyes. He wasn't sure at first where he was or how he'd gotten there, until he spotted a small figured curled up on itself in a big chair near his bed. Right, he was lying on a bed. He adjusted his blurry eyes, which seemed almost impossible; his head was spinning and he could barely stay up as he tried to bust himself with his elbows.

The figure moved, just a tiny bit, and curls, messy red curls gave way to a smooth, young pale face. He would recognize those features anywhere.

Clary.

He tried to move up, but he still couldn't. He wasn't sure if it was because the room would not stop spinning around or because his body ached all over, specially his chest. His right hand moved on its own accord to his chest and lay just over his heart.

He was confused. Thoughts, memories rushing in, in no particular order.

He was in the Institute. He knew that much. The bed, the white walls and ceiling. He was in his room. He looked back at Clary, remembering she was there, and suddenly his chest hurt, just beneath his hand.

He remembered. Sebastian. The Seelie Queen. Lilith. The rune.

There was a bandage where his hand lay, and he suddenly remembered. Clary. She'd disfigured the Rune. Not like the first time she'd done it, with a dagger and a cut. She'd done it properly. She'd ripped his skin, and probably more in the process, and had drawn a protection rune in its place. A protection rune he'd never seen before. One of the runes she'd been able to see ever since they've met. A special rune, just for him.

He moved. He cared not about the pain or the constant spinning of everything. He had to go to her; he had to touch her, make sure she was real. After all he'd done, after all that went down… he couldn't believe she was still there, by his side, looking after him.

He realized he was only wearing his pajama bottoms, probably to cure the injuries in his chest better. How long had it been since all that happened? How long had he been in that bed?

He reached her and touched her face very softly, though not softly enough. Her eyes were wide opened and alert. He'd trained her well.

"Jace," was all she said, her voice dripping with relief and concern and exhaustion.

All he could do was smile at her. Her eyes… those eyes left him speechless every time.

She slowly stood up, a blanket falling to the floor. She was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. They both looked too big for her small frame. They both belonged to him.

Clary stared at him, expectantly. She probably wasn't sure if what she'd done had worked at all. He had fainted as soon as the acid hit his chest, the rune, not because of the pain caused by the contact with the acid, but because the connection with Sebastian's consciousness was dead, and it hurt. It hurt as if she'd cut off his arm.

He wanted to cry. And he did. For his father, who wasn't really his father. For Stephen Herondale, who was his father. For a brother that wasn't his, and a sister that wasn't his, and a mother that wasn't his. He cried for all he'd been through and everything he had put Clary through; everything he had put all his family through.

He held her, a surprised Clary, as if his life depended on it, and Clary held him back with all she had. She loved him. He knew that. And he loved her. And even though he should stay away from her, he couldn't. He just couldn't.

He released her softly once he quieted down, and looked at her eyes. She'd been crying with him. He brushed the tears away from her face with his thumbs and kissed her, softly yet passionately.

"Come," he finally said. "Let's go to bed."

He held her hand and led her to his bed, not caring if Maryse, Jocelyn or anyone found them. They hadn't slept together ever since they'd been in Idris, and it was something he'd always wanted to do again, except this time, he'd be there when she opened her eyes in the morning.

He held her tightly as they settled in the bed. Not apart, barely brushing their fingers, like in Amatis' home, but tightly close; their legs intertwining, her right arm tucked between them, while the other caressed his back. Her head laid just under his chin. He kissed her hair, and told her in a whisper: "I love you, Clary Fray."

"Same here," she said as she nuzzled into his bare chest, careful not to tug at his bandages.

He would always want to lay down with her and wake up with her. Forever.


Jace opened his eyes slowly, the sunshine blasting from the windows doing wonders to his headache.

He stretched his body and realized he was lying in his bed. He had no idea how he had gotten there; as a matter of fact, he had little recollection of what had happened the night before.

He reached for Clary but she wasn't there. And suddenly it all came back. Well, not all, just that one moment where Clary was taking off his clothes, yet refused to let him kiss her. What was it she had said?

Oh, yeah. "You're drunk."

And he had been. He smiled to himself. Whatever the guys had put him up to last night, it seemed like it had been fun and it had involved a LOT of alcohol.

He stood up from the bed and put on his pajama pants, since apparently Clary's patience went so far as to taking off his clothes but not putting on his pajama. He walked to the door and smelled the fresh coffee Clary was making in their kitchen. He heard laughter, and winced at the pain in his head.

As he made his way through the narrow corridor, he saw through the kitchen door two tall, slim figures with the same shade of red in their head, talking in hush voices. Clary was uncannily similar to her mother, Jocelyn, although Clary had her own mannerisms, her own tone of voice, even her own freckles. Yes, he'd been paying attention.

Suddenly, both mother and daughter turned to look at him, and Jocelyn laughed hard, followed by Clary.

"Oh, you look just like Luke last night," Jocelyn said, her arms lazily crossed over her chest, and her hip leaning over the kitchen counter, as Clary poured herself a big cup of coffee. She poured another one, and handed it to Jace, who leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. She dodged him with a chuckle and grabbed her coffee, although she couldn't escape from his grasp.

He curled his arm around her waist so she wouldn't escape and leaned down to her ear. As her back pressed against his chest, he said:

"You know you can't resist me. So why are you stubbornly avoiding to kiss me?"

She laughed, and replied: "Cause it seems like you drowned in Vodka, and your mouth tastes like ass."

Jocelyn laughed even harder and Jace couldn't help laughing as well. She was right. Letting go of Clary, he drank a mouth full of coffee and went to kiss Jocelyn's cheek.

She caressed his cheek in return, very affectionately, and smiled at him, like all mothers do. "Morning, big fella."

"Seems like you guys had a lot of fun last night, 'cause Luke got home in a similar state as yours," Clary told him as he moved to sit down in the kitchen table to enjoy his coffee.

"He almost broke his neck. For some reason, he through entering through the bookstore was the right way to go," mentioned Jocelyn.

He smiled as a flash of a memory hit him and he could actually picture the older man in that kind of state.

"What did you guys do to get this drunk? Robbed a liquor store?" Clary joked as she put down the rag she'd used to clean the coffee stains over the counter and sat down across from him.

"I'm not entirely sure. I remember we went to Taki's for something to eat, then to a pub Jordan really likes and then Alec took us to this club he went once with Magnus. But… it is all pretty much a blur. What did you guys do?"

"Pretty much that, except we didn't get trashed," she said with a wicked grin in her face, which she covered with her big coffee mug. And it was her mug, not theirs, because he'd hated it the moment he'd seen it, while she thought it was perfect for morning coffee. "You'll drown in it," he'd told her as she picked up the monstrosity. It was as big as her face. Yet, she loved that wretched thing.

"Hey, it was Jordan's bachelor party, we did as he requested," he argued, with a fake hurt-brow.

"Well," Jocelyn interrupted. "I better go check on my saliva boy. I'll see you both tomorrow." She kissed Jace in the head, and kissed her daughter in the cheek before leaving.

Clary was reading the news paper, something she did every morning, as she drank her coffee. And Jace felt he couldn't take his eyes off her.

There'd been a thought circling his mind ever since Maia and Jordan had announced they would be getting married.

He loved Clary. He loved her with all his soul, body and mind, and even beyond that. He would give his life for her, and he nearly did several times. He would do that all over again if it meant she would keep living even after the end of the world.

He smiled to himself. Here you go, getting all cheesy again.

It wouldn't be so ridiculous. They've been living together for almost four years. It was only logical. Although, when were Clary and him logical?

So, he simply blurted it out. It was a Saturday morning when he proposed. They were quietly drinking coffee, and it was like any other morning, except for when he asked: "So, if I were to ask you to marry me, would you say yes?"


Hope you enjoyed it!