AN: Hey, everyone! Just another random thing. This'll be a twoshot, by the way. I have to be up at seven tomorrow morning, so I have no idea why I decided to write this now, but, um, I did. Sorry if this doesn't make a whole lot of sense or is a tiny bit boring, I'm pretty tired right now. Hopefully part two will be better. I guess I'm writing that in the car tomorrow. Two hour car ride, since we're driving to Philadelphia to see the University of Pennsylvania. Anyways, reviews are seriously appreciated. I could use some feedback on this one. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments, nor any of the characters in this story except for Allison. Everything but Allison belongs to Cassandra Clare.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing. Just kidding. It was windy, and it was pouring, and single mom Clarissa Fray was not having the best day. She had slipped on the way out the door, and her car had run out of gas in the middle of the road on the way to the grocery store. Her only option had been to call her 17 year old daughter to pick her up. It was very embarrassing, almost as if Clary was the teenager and Allison was the disappointed parent. However, she shrugged it off. They still needed milk after all, and so they pushed on.
They were walking through the aisles, Clary searching up and down the shelves, Allison tapping at her phone like her life depended on it. It was very distracting, and so Clary questioned it.
"Who the heck are you texting? Can you get off your phone for one second please, I can't find the right brand!" she grumbled. This is not how she would normally act, in fact she was a rather calm person, but the negative beginning to the Saturday was wearing her patience dangerously thin.
"Just a boy from school, Mom. Here, I'm putting it away, see?" She rolled her golden eyes before exaggeratedly shoving her phone into her purse. "Oh, and the brand you're looking for is literally a shelf below your eyes."
Her golden eyes and similar hair had not come from Clary, a fiery redhead with emerald eyes, but her father. It had been a boy Clary had met at college, Jace Herondale. She had really liked him, and one night they saw each other at a party. Well, um, things ensued, and Clary ended up pregnant with Allison. She hadn't told anyone, too ashamed that she had become pregnant at only 19, and she transferred colleges. For awhile she had harbored irrational ill feelings for the man, but she'd gotten over it. After all, she was an adult, and knew perfectly well that it had been both of their faults. Besides, he was a nice guy, and he probably would've helped her out of she had told him. However, she didn't regret having a child. Allison was everything to her, and even though they had the kind of dynamic where they bickered frequently, Clary loved her daughter more than anything in the world. Even coconut pancakes, and Clary really liked coconut pancakes.
Switching from one aisle to the next, Clary went into full Mom Mode, catching her daughter as she was accidentally rammed into by a cart.
"Excuse me! Who do you think you are? Next time pay attention before ramming into my daughter, jerk face!" She yelled.
The man looked up, an apologetic look all over his face. Soon, however, it was wiped right off, replaced by a look of surprise. His hair? Golden. His eyes? Golden. His skin? Too freakin' tan to be natural, but yet somehow it was.
"C-clary Fray? Am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing? Well, um, hello. Jeez, it's been a while. I haven't seen you in- what is it, 17 years now I think? And, then we meet like this. With me slamming into your daughter. God, I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Wait a minute, daughter?" He looked a bit nervous, not quite the cool and collected teenager she remembered from her college days.
"Oh, wow. Wow. This is great. This is just great. I am having the best day, aren't I? The luck is definitely in my favor." She was shocked, and a bit annoyed to be honest. Fortunately, she realized staring at the ceiling talking to yourself with a glare on your face was not normal, she collected herself and turned back to the conversation.
"Hmm, yes, this is my daughter Allison. Allison meet Jace, Jace meet Allison. Now if you'll excuse us, we have some shopping to do." She went to walk away, but a soft hand grabbed her arm, trying to prevent her from leaving.
"Wait, Mom, who the hell is this? And, uh, why does he look like me?" Allison asked, gesturing to her eyes.
"Allison Elizabeth Fray, mind your language please. And, we'll talk about this later. For now, we have to go." Once again, Clary tried to leave the aisle. Unfortunately, she was interrupted once again.
"No, wait a minute. She has a point. Why do we look alike?" Jace questioned, putting emphasis on the word do.
"Honestly, I don't think right now is the time or place for this. Seriously, I'm warning you both." Exasperated, she looked at both faces. They had questioning looks, as if urging her to continue. "Erm, well, Allison, this is your... This is- Allison, meet your father. I met him in college. Oh, look at the time, we really must be going." Poor Clary didn't even have a chance at escaping at that point.
"Excuse me?!" yelled two people at the same time. She rolled her eyes to herself, honestly, that was definitely not the best place for this conversation. In fact, she didn't think anywhere was a good place for this conversation. Truthfully, she had hoped she never would've had to have this conversation. Unfortunately, she did not receive that simple luxury. Oh well, it would have to do. Fidgeting, Clary set into a deeper explanation, trying to calm the frantic people in front of her.