Notes: Written by a prompt over on tumblr. This is the first time I've written Maia, as well as the first time I've written Jace with heavy influence from 2b, and I suspect that it shows. Also, for some reason I struggled with the final two sentences for about three decades. Still, I'd love to know what you think!

When Maia meets him for the first time, the unknown Shadowhunter seems to be in deep trouble. He looks lost and puzzled and really worried and, okay, maybe she tries to help him despite his (glaringly obvious) lack of money mainly because she can sympathise with that. She knows what it's like to be on the run; to not know where you're going and what waits ahead.

And then it turns out that Gretel - Gretel, who had been around only a few days ago, healthy and free - is dead, and that the lone Nephilim has killed her.

Things change rather quickly after that because he's guilty, he's just like the rest of them and he needs to pay, until he doesn't and the next thing Maia knows, Jace Wayland is everywhere she looks. He's difficult to ignore, even more so when the memory of him pleading with her to let him save someone's life before she kills him. He says it with ease, as if death is never too far away from his thoughts, and something about that happens to be just familiar enough to soften Maia's resentment by a fraction.

She still can't say she's fond of him, but it's mainly on principle now. He is a Shadowhunter, after all; an excellent example of the Clave's arrogance and she doesn't want him around, but he's there anyway, always looking just as lost as the night when she'd met him for the first time. It's probably his natural state, Maia thinks, and she it isn't really that difficult to imagine why if even half of the rumours that follow him behind his back are true.

Being lost doesn't stop him from being absolutely infuriating, though; in fact, things only seem to get worse as time goes on. It's easy to see the change – from spending far too much time at the Hunter's Moon to avoid everything and everyone else, he switches to making work-related visits and it's clear, so painfully clear that he's torn between doing what he thinks is right and what is expected of him. Hitting him isn't as satisfying as Maia had hoped it would be – he doesn't even fight back and it doesn't seem like he wants to.

He's the one to break her out of her cell when she's accused of killing a Shadowhunter (they're ready to pin it on anyone who comes close enough and Maia doesn't need to know much about them to realise that; she's seen the way cornered animals act far too many times to fail to recognise the signs) and that only makes things all the more difficult. He's still lost and that's when she fully realises it, and the same Jace is all he's got.

It's enough, she decides just a while later. She might not completely know what Jace is like when he's just that – not yet, anyway – but she does know that it's enough.

o.O.o

The first time Jace looks at Maia and sees her - really sees her - is at Max's party.

He'd been in attack mode every other time before that and had only seen her as one more obstacle on his way to get to Alec and then, later, when he'd spent a good few days in Hunter's Moon trying to drown his sorrows, she'd been just as openly hostile. But then, at the party, away from the tension of her usual position, she seems different; different enough for Jace to notice the change despite his own less than perfect state. She's still hostile - thanks to his connection to Valentine, Jace supposes - and even later, when she attacks Clary, when she stops him and Luke on their way to the Institute, he subconsciously starts looking for the reason behind it. It's not a good idea; understanding people usually means sympathising with them and that's not something Jace can afford, but it turns out the choice isn't his to make. She's as helpless as he is, he can see that now, and she's only trying to protect her own in any way she can.

It's a two way street, this understanding, or so it feels in the weeks after the disaster with the Soul Sword. Maia is mourning just like the rest of the pack, but she's almost friendly now and Jace can't figure out where the change is coming from, but he isn't about to complain.

Which is why all the orders he'd been given after his appointment as Head of the Institute - the chipping, closely followed by the arrest - is that much harder to get through.

She's right; Jace knows that even if he's not willing to undermine his own authority (his own family, too, because as much as he'd been trying to keep the two separate, it doesn't really work, not while the Inquisitor is still in the Institute) by admitting it. It's not fair, but he does it anyway and when the case is finally resolved, it feels natural to try and make things right.

Things don't go quite according to plan, but then again, they never had with her. Maia challenges him, forcing him to think about things he'd much prefer to keep buried - his feelings for Clary, for one, along with his feelings, period - and while that first night he tries to pretend that he's proving something to her, he does end up considering her words once he'd gone back home.

She doesn't believe him, Jace knows that, and he finds himself wanting to prove her wrong. He really is happy for Clary; he can't deny his resentment towards Valentine and all the circumstances that had separated them, but that's all it is now - the frustration of something he'd almost had. She'd felt the same way, Jace had been able to tell, but she'd managed to find her silver lining and for the first time, he thinks that maybe he can start looking for it too.

o.O.o

Beaches are the best possible place to go if someone's trying to evade the Shadow world. It's common knowledge – at least to Shadowhunters – that most races in the Downworld tend to stay away from them because even nowadays the sea is plagued by water faeries with powers strong enough to disrupt just about any ritual. Mundanes are a force to consider too, of course; no one's too eager to get close enough to them to interact with their world at all, and beaches are usually packed with them.

All of these factors, along with the fact that it's the middle of a weekday and there's a storm coming, are the reason Jace is waiting here now, entirely unsure what to expect. It's a new feeling, in a way – Shadowhunters have their lives mapped out for them carefully day by day and uncertainty is usually a reason for alarm – but it's not unpleasant.

Far from it, in fact.

It's five minutes past three and Maia – if she's decided to come at all – has to arrive any moment. Even when deserted, West Meadow Beach is huge and even if she's there somewhere, it's impossible to tell. Jace keeps reminding himself that there's nothing to be so anxious about – she's either going to show up or she's given up, and neither would bring about the end of the world – but the apprehension is still there. Not apprehension, he corrects mentally, not exactly; it's anticipation.

It's all extremely tentative; this attempt at... whatever it is, really. The times they've purposefully met so far have always been in Maia's bar, with Jace passing by and staying for a while and while it's all been very casual, it's also been very frequent. There's a pattern to it all, though, and Jace has already left Maia's flat in the morning promising himself that it's for the last time enough times to lose count. Maia doesn't mind, clearly - she's not the type to hesitate to tell someone that they've overstayed their welcome - but something unsaid still hangs in the air, obvious enough for both of them to decide that it's time to stop ignoring it.

And it is both of them, he's sure of that now as he sees her approach, her usual pace slowed down by her heels sinking in the sand. She's not too pleased by that, he can tell by her expression and that's a surprise all on its own - somewhere along the way, he's learnt to identify most of her moods easily to the point that when he'd bit the bullet and asked if she'd like to meet somewhere away from Hunter's Moon, he had watched through the entire range of reactions she'd tried to mask before asking, "So you're serious about this?" and had seen her settle on pleasantly surprised when he'd said yes. It still fills him with a strange sort of satisfaction that he knows for a fact that she believes him now; that she can tell he isn't trying to make himself forget someone else but rather to build something new. His persistence had to have been the reason she'd trusted him, he guesses, and it's not just that: after a month of sporadic meetings, some of which had felt dangerously close to dates, things had been bound to come to this eventually.

"Here? Really?" Maia's voice floats to him over the roar of the waves as she nears him and Jace takes a step forward, lips curling into a smile.

"I thought you wanted something away from the Downworld," he says once she reaches him and he leans down for the already expected kiss, only to have her give him an unimpressed glance. "What?"

Werewolves hate the ocean.

She doesn't need to say it because now, as Jace thinks about it, he remembers her saying it before. Too many conflicting scents, Maia had shrugged. Makes it hard to keep track of it all. He had stored the information away just in case but hadn't really thought of it until now and, if the look on Maia's face is anything to go by, she knows that already.

"Don't worry," she waves his apology off, an alarming amount of fondness slipping into her tone as she continues, "You may be an idiot, but you're my idiot. Come on." She laces their fingers together, tugging on his hand until he follows her in the direction she'd came from. He's about to protest, but he's not about to bring up the fact that she'd just called him hers to her attention. "It's about to start raining."

Werewolves hate the rain too. Jace finds himself smiling again. "Race you to the shelter?" he offers and sees the excitement of the challenge reflected in her eyes before she nods and dashes off without any warning whatsoever.

Jace doesn't mind, really; as long as things stay the way they are now, they can afford to play unfair every now and then.