You're My Father?

This is my first time so be nice...


"Mum it's my birthday and I would like to go out with Simon, it's not that big a deal, we are just going to Java Jones to listen to Eric's lousy poetry." Clary stood facing the mirror in her bedroom, practising her argument. She really needed to leave this apartment, her Mothers been particularly strict lately and Clary hasn't been allowed to go anywhere. She watched herself take a deep breath, before turning and walking calmly to the lounge room. Clary takes another deep breath as she turns the corner, she spies her Mother painting something beautiful in deep concentration.

"Mum?"

"Uh?"

"Mum it's my birthday and I would like to go out with Sim-"

"NO!" Jocelyn shouts, dropping her paintbrush to the floor. Clary jumps back in surprise, and gave her mother a dirty look, she knew there was a high chance that the answer was going to be no but she didn't even get to finish her argument.

"Come on please, it's not that big a deal, we are just going to go to Java Jones to listen to Eric's lousy poetry." Clary looks down at the paint stains on her new pants, turning her feat side to side examining the damage.

"No Clary, at that's my final answer." Jocelyn rubbed her temple in an attempt to calm down, "I'm sorry but one of the buyers of my paintings is coming by later and I really need you to be here." Clary looks up into her Mothers sympathy, pleading eyes, and loses some of her fight.

Well, at least I finished my argument…

Clary sighs and turned to leave, saying over her shoulder,

"Well, now I need a shower anyway. Maybe we can talk after." Clary turned into the bathroom, kicking the door shut before her overly strict Mother could respond. She wasn't really in any state to be seen in public anyway, she decided after looking in the mirror, noticing the mess of hair and crappy, paint covered clothing. She sighed again turn on the water and stripping down and stepping under its soothing stream, not hearing anything but the water hitting her head.


Jocelyn sigh, drumming her fingers on the ground as she cleaned up the paint, she would do whatever she could to protect her daughter even if that means making an enemy of herself. Three knocks at the door interrupted her thoughts, Jocelyn frowned as she stood, Magnus wasn't supposed to be here for another hour, and he is never early. Jocelyn silently went to the door and peered through the hole. She jumped back quickly barely avoiding contact by the flying door as a shadow hunter charges through the door wearing a long black cloak, with his hood pushed back. Jocelyn bolted to the kitchen slamming the door closed behind her and grabs the potion. She fumbled with the box, why she decided to put it in such an elegant, hard to open box, was beyond her.

"Jocelyn?" Was called out to her sweetly in a sing-song manner. Jocelyn pause, her eyes widened in horror, "Where's the cup?"

"No…" She whispers, quietly to herself as she finally pried open the box. "You are never going to get it." She screams loudly. Pieces of wood flew at her as a fist slammed through the door. She yanked out the poison after finally popping the lid.

"Come on, sweetheart, open the door."

"VALENTINE LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed, before swallowing the poison.

"MUM?"

Jocelyn froze in horror, before looking down at the bottle in her hand,

"No, no, no, no…oh no…" She could feel her heart rate accelerating, her head pounding and her vision blurring as the poison went to work. The door exploded open just as she felt herself falling to the ground,

"Run Clary, RUN!" She tried shouting, but she could barely hear it, having it been only just louder than a whisper.


Jonathan paused at the broken doorway, admiring the mess of the apartment before carefully making his way through to his Father in the kitchen, just catching the nasty back-hand he gives to Blackwell.

"YOU WEAK, WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! Look at what happened because YOU couldn't open a damn door." Valentine screamed. Jonathan smiles he's always hated that moron and his blinding loyalty to Father.

"I apologise, my lord." He whimpers from the floor, head bowed at Valentine's feet.

"Just get up and go look for the cup."

"MUM, WHAT'S GOING ON? ARE YOU OK?" A voice calls from another room, Jonathan forces a blank face, and doesn't move, like the good little soldier he is. Even though he is dying to find the source of that beautiful voice. He waits patiently as his Father to order him to do so.

"Go." He says shortly, but it's all he needs. Jonathan forces himself to slow down and not outright sprint when he hears flowing water. He reaches the door to what he assumes is the bathroom and unsurprisingly fails to turn the handle, as he reaches for his stele, as the shower turns off. As the apartment is already a mess, what's another broken door, as his shoulder smashes into the wood the door explodes, wood flying everywhere. The dull ache of his shoulder is forgotten upon sight of the beautiful girl before him. Pale skin with red almost everywhere he looks, red hair, red checks, pink nipples and beautiful short, red curls. He didn't hear the scream from her lips, but he did notice her large, pink lips part as she did so, she grabs a towel and quickly covered herself.

Once she had the towel secure around her small frame, Jonathan had quickly schooled his features and controlled his breathing, so no-one knew just how much he wanted to rip that towel from her grasp. As he adjusts his pants, she stares at him wide-eyed, and he stared right back. He puts every bit of power he can into his stare, pulling his shoulders back and raising his chin to let her know who is in charge. Her eyes drop in beautiful surrender before she too pulls her shoulders back. As she takes a deep breath in Jonathan can't help but notice the swell of her breast push firmly up against the towel. Clary glances to his right and attempts to run past him. But, Jonathan quickly wraps his arm her narrow waist, bringing her close to his chest, appreciating how it forces the towel to ride up revealing more of her short, pale legs. Clary fights his tight hold in a pitiful attempt to break free, but he merely picks her up and holds her across his chest.

"Be still," Jonathan whispers softly in her ear as he began carrying her to the lounge room, to his satisfaction she does, she relaxes in his hold, to which he rewards by slightly loosening his grip and appreciating the soft skin of her thighs and arm against his hands as he carries her to the destroyed lounge room.


Clary was in shock, her apartment appears to have been destroyed in the ten minutes that she was in the shower, she had been thinking about Simon, her Mum and the varies ways in which to break out. She must have been very deep in her own head to not have heard any of it. And now she was in the arms a strange boy who has seen her naked and looks scarily like her Dark Prince. In the back of her head, she knew that she should be fighting him, but she wasn't, both because she knew she could never win and because she somehow feels like she can trust him. Blaming the uncanny likeness to her Dark Prince she puts the matter aside and surveys her destroyed living room.

"MUM!" Clary gasps, covering her mouth as she sees her Mothers limb form, she once again begins fighting her Dark Princes hold, he gently put her on the opposite couch he gives her a hard look, silently telling her not to move. She swallows deeply and looks around the room avoid her Mothers still form and her Dark Princes eyes, noticing three other men in the room, two dressed in black, one of which has a nasty red mark on his face, and another man simply wearing jeans and a plain blue T-shirt. Her eyes hurt when she looked at him for too long, so she ignores him and focused her attention on the white-blond, tall, dark-eyed man who was smiling sweetly in the middle. Remember her clothing situation, Clary holds the towel to her chest tightly as she glares angrily at the man who dares hurt her mother. He takes a few steps towards her and gets down on one knee in front of her. He tilts his head slightly to one side as he studied her.

"Hello, my dear. My name is Valentine Morgenstern." He explains sweetly, extending a hand to her. Clary glanced over at her Mother, before turning back to him, her glare deepens. "And you are?" he asks single eyebrow raised in question.

Feeling slightly unnerved she glances to her Dark Prince, he has a small smile on his face as he gives her a nod of encouragement. "Clary." She utters softly, looking away from her Prince she renews her grip on her towel. He lowers his hand and smiles before asking,

"Full name, please." She was starting curious as to why he was being nice, people were so much easier to be angry at when they were being mean and nasty.

"Clarissa Adele Fray," she stated firmly, some of the shock wearing off, and curiosity and braver setting in. Valentine nods without taking his eyes off her, he notices some fire in her eyes, and his eyebrows twitch together.

"You don't look like Lucian." He states almost in a confused like manner. Clary looks up at this in equal confusion, eyes dulling slightly at the name of her mum's friend.

"Why would I look like Luke? How do you know him?" Valentine's nose scrunches in disgust he stands,

"Is he not your Father? I would have assumed Jocelyn ran off to be with that beast."

Clary stood up at this almost hitting the rock-hard muscles of the man in front of her, "LUKE IS NOT A BEAST", she exclaimed angrily, then after registering what she had done and the look outrage in the large man's eyes. She quickly sat back down and continued in a slightly softer tone, "and he's not my Father either, although he has pretty much raised me." Clary glances to the picture of her Father on the mantle above the fire, before casting her eyes down, hoping to avoid the anger in the large man's eyes through submission.

"Then who is your biological Father?" Valentine inquires, softly curious. Clary looks up and nods her head to the picture,

"His name is Jonathan, he died before I was born… Mum morns his death every year." Clary answers softly, watching Valentine walk to the picture, admiring it for a moment before returning to her, eyebrows furrowed.

"How old are you?" Valentine inquires in a soft tone.

"Sixteen" Clary replies at an almost whisper, she looks up and catches the look of shock that crosses everyone's face when she tells them how old she is, Clary signs, she really does look more like twelve. She glances up at the picture of her Father, glad it wasn't destroyed, before flicking her eyes to her mother still form.

"Impossible…" She barely heard Valentine murmur.

"No, I can assure you I am, I know I don't look it but I am." Clary response angrily, why does no-one believe her? Valentine looks at her again for a moment.

"I do not believe that the man in this picture is your Father, it is impossible." He states after a few moments. Clary's eyebrows jump at this,

"Oh, and what makes you say that?"

"Because, my sweet child, your mother was married to me sixteen years ago… Still is in fact," He states, staring at her with a small smile on his face.

"So, what you're trying to say is, you…" She says pointing at him, swirling her finger a bit, "You're my Father?" He smiles broadly, arms wide,

"Yes, Clarissa, I believe I am." He states happily, before scrunching his nose slightly and staring at the wall behind her in thought, "Clarissa's not a name I would have picked, however." He states looking back at her.

"Well, that's nice, because my name is Clary." She says calmly, hoping to get the message across, she hated being called by her full name. Valentine laughs before turning to the man in the blue shirt,

"Warlock, ready the portal." He orders returning his attention to her. She saw Warlock nod in the corner of her eye, and for a second, he appeared all blue, she blinked and looked again and he was back to normal. Then Valentine turned to her Dark Prince, who had not stopped staring at her, back to his dark 'do as you're told' look.

"Jonathan, take Clarissa to her room so she can get dressed." … Jonathan, that's her Dark Princes name, weird that it's the same as her supposed father, I guess it was fairly common… Clary thought before registering the rest of the comment.

"Clary…my name is Clary." She stated, still half in her own head, but as soon as Jonathan came closer to her and moved to pick her up again, she snapped out of it and stood up quickly. Once again almost hitting the rock-hard muscles of the man in front of her, only this time a part of her wanted to touch the muscles. Clary felt the heat of a blush spread across her face as she looked up into Jonathan's face, his lips twitched a little before he stepped back and allowed her to pass into the hall. Clary quickly walked to her room, holding her towel tightly as she walked. She made it to her room in record time and turned to close the door before her Dark Pri- Jonathan could make it in. She wasn't nearly fast enough, and Jonathan was past her in a flash, casually admiring the drawing all over her room. She turned red when she spied her Dark Prince on her wall, silently comparing their differences, there weren't many.

"You're very good." He stated, in his soft, silky voice. She noticed him staring at her Dark Prince too, hopefully, he won't think it's him, because that could be awkward.

"Thanks." She's whispers softly, looking down as he turned his hot, heavy gaze onto her. Never had someone's eyes affected her so much. She swallows, and took a deep breath in.

"I better get dressed." She stated and moving out of the doorway.

"Go ahead." Smiling he moves back to sit on her bed, still staring at her.

"So you're not going to leave, while I change?" She asks clutching her towel as she felt herself get warm all over.

"Nope." He states, leaning back a little not breaking eye contact.

"Such a gentleman." She murmurs sarcastically while shutting the door. She could do this, she got changed around Simon all the time, although at least he had the decency to turn around. She wanders over to her wardrobe, grabbing underwear, bra, a simple t-shirt, some jeans and a jacket. When she turned back Jonathan had really made himself at home on her bed, with his head perched on two pillows and his arm, his booted feet crossed at the ankles and the ever-present smirk on his face.

"Ready for the show?" She asks sarcastically while dumping her clothes on the bed next to his feet.

"Absolutely," Clary's face felt so hot from her blush, though she tried to look unaffected by his confidence. Getting dressed around the towel went well once she turned her bad to him and stopped fumbling. When she was done, she turned back around to find him looking dazed, smirks gone from his face. She blushes further when she notices the large bulge in his pants,

"You are such a pervert." A small smile once again touches his lips, but before he could reply, her phone began to ring. They both freeze for a moment and stare at the ringing phone before Clary glances at Jonathan and pounces for it. He moves lightning fast, jumping from the bed, grabbing it and holding it loosely in his hands, face blank of any emotions. Clary reaches for it, but he simply holds it up above his head. I will not jump for it, I will not jump for it, she chants in her head. The ringing stops and Clary stares at the phone, strategizing ways to get it when it starts ringing again. She immediately jumps up, arm outstretched high, fingers barely grazing his wrist. She stops and crosses her arms across her chest and give the boy in front before her, her evilest glare. Watching the smirk grow bigger on his face. She huffs out excess CO2, before turning and walking back into the lounge room.

"Portals done, my lord." Warlock exclaims happily.

"What?" Clary questions. "Portal, like portal, portal? Like teleportation?" Clary asks in slight awe, looking around for it.

"Yes, well, it's a five-dimensional door," Valentine answered, "Dimensions aren't straight lines, you know," he added, in response to Clary's blank look. "There are dips and folds and nooks and crannies all tucked away. It's a bit hard to explain when you've never studied dimensional theory, but, yes it will take you anywhere in this dimension that you want to go." Valentine explained, pointing at the wall. When Clary focused on it, she did notices it wobbled and waved slightly, and that was enough for her, she pounced through. What's the worst that could happen, she smacks a wall? She was picturing Luke's bookshop, its old wood and smell when she felt a tight grip on her ankle. In the momentary distraction she felt herself get pulled and stretched, so she doubled her efforts on picturing Luke's shop. Eye's closed in deep concentration until she hit the concrete hard.