[Miss. Under-Developed]

Summary : She was his neighbor, a kid who always seemed to be perfect under his parent's eyes. He didn't care though, he had his college classes, part-time job, and dozens of girls who threw themselves at him weekly. This was how he viewed her. He didn't even care to remember her name, no worries this was his life. ALL HUMAN.

Warnings: There is a little incest here and there. There is also one sided love, obviously! A little M toward the end. Language here and there. I'm pretty sure the entire story is pretty FLUFFY!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Mortal Instruments characters. They all belong to Cassandra Clare. Some settings are real, some are not. The story line is 100% mine.

-Chapter One: Little Cherry-

She looked outside her window, smiling to herself - she thank god that Johnathan had to stay after school to receive his football uniform for the year. "Alone at last," she said to herself. She pulled out her iphone from her stereo, where it was charging and plugged her earphones in her ears. She browsed through her music collection and chose her favorite song. Turning up her iphone to the full and maximum volume she started the song that cried out to her very soul.

Let's make this fleeting moment last forever
So, tell me what you're waiting for?
I'm gonna keep it frozen here forever,
There's no regretting anymore.
It's worth the wait, even so far away.
I'm making the night mine until the day I die
No lights to brake when you're hanging by fate

She chose to continue the music, but also decided to go down the stairs to make herself something simple to eat. She swung her hips to the beat of the music, just how she had seen in all the dancing movies. Besides no one knew she was going to audition for Minx. Minx was the best dancing group of late teenagers who competed for the big shows in Los Angeles. She was so excited, so whenever she had time alone she practiced for her big audition.

You know what it feels like when you're dancing blind
All alone, just the beat inside my soul
Take me home, where my dreams are made of gold
In the zone where the beat is un-controlled.
I know what it feels like
Come on make me feel alive
Feel alive, feel alive
Feel alive, feel alive
Feel alive, feel alive alive alive alive
Alive!

She arrived at the kitchen, and decided to make herself a sandwich. Hm... There is only white bread. I hate white bread. Looking to the cabinets for something else to eat, she continued to sing and dance.

Meet me under shining lights,
I've been waiting right here all my life
Feelings you can't deny that you're living, open up your eyes
And I just wanna sink into your crazy laughter
Come on make me feel until the pain don't matter
Every second here makes my heart beat faster
Finally think I found what I'm chasing after.

...

Suggesting he was mad was a huge understatement. He had clearly told coach Jenkins that he wanted the jersey with the number six. But apparently another idiot had chose that same number he wanted. Angrily he closed the door of his Black hummer, while muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck it all to Hell."

Climbing the three porch steps to his three story house, he heard the kitchen cabinets opening and closing. Hm... Maybe Clary is making something to eat. Opening the door, he walked silently, as always to their kitchen. It had all stainless steel appliances, with red plates, red towels, and cherry oak cabinets. It was plain and simple, how they all like it. When he walked into the kitchen he stopped dead in his tracks.

Clary was dancing. Like really dancing. What the Fuck, I did not know she danced.

Her eyes were closed and she was singing beautifully to some unknown artist I had never heard of. But that is not what amazed me. I knew she had a beautiful voice, everyone knew. Clary could talk for hours and no one would be annoyed. Just like their mother, but he quickly shook off the any thoughts of his mother.

What amazed me was that she was dancing very... seductively. For example, the dip and sway of her hips. Her buttocks, and how her waist rotated and...

All alone, just the beat inside my soul
Take me home, where my dreams are made of gold
In the zone where the beat is un-controlled.

"STOP!", he shouted.

She jumped, and quickly opened her eyes to see me. She took off her earphones and paused the music, while trying super hard not to blush. "S-sorry. I thought you would be gone a longer time. I thought that you were-"

He cut her off with a move of his hand and closed his eyes. His hand raked through his silvery blonde hair, trying his hardest not to be allured by HIS LITTLE SISTER, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

He groaned and stuffed both clenched fists in his pockets of his denim jeans, " No worries. Really."

He tried his best to sound sincere, "Its just I didn't get jersey number six. And I was hoping to get it, just like I have for the past three years." He saw her face morph into one of sadness. Number Six has always been in their family, since their mother died on 6-6-06. I know it was a little weird but it held meaning to the three of them, like they still had her present. It has already been seven years, but it still felt like yesterday.

"So... What number did you get?" asked Clary, who by now completely forgot about the dancing incident. But I haven't, he thought bitterly. He was going to need a cold shower.

He cleared his throat, and smiled at her. "Well, I chose the number twenty-one," he said. She squealed and jumped on him. Literally. Her hands were entwined around his neck, and her inner thighs were around his hips. Not good.

She kept saying things along the lines of, 'Yay. You picked my favorite number to wear on your jersey.' But he was too distracted by her smell, which was a combination of cherry and raspberry, maybe even strawberry. And she kept talking, and her mouth was to close to his right ear. Yup, he needs the cold shower, NOW.

He finally pulled her creamy ivory legs from his hips and detached himself. She kept smiling, "So can I still wear your jersey at the games?"

"Of course," he answered. "Besides, who else would wear my jersey?" he asked as he made his way to the refrigerator to get a cold water bottle.

He got one and knew from experience to toss her one as well. "Well, maybe one of those Bimbos you throw out your window Saturday and Sunday mornings," she said while she caught the bottle of Arrowhead.

He paused in mid-way to his mouth and the water flowed down his T-shirt. Well, for the least he is not going to need the cold shower anymore. "What? How did you...", he asked clueless.

She smiled up at him and readjusted her long, straight crimson hair in the high pony-tail, that displayed her delicate ivory neck. Her dark emerald eyes twinkled with mischief, "No worries, Big Brother. I did not tell Dad on you. But if you do get caught, I simply can't lie to Daddy, hence my title, Little Cherry."

She took her water and some chips and slipped out of the kitchen before I could say another word. Darn her, but then again she was right. Dad would kill me if he found out.

...

I finished my homework about an hour prior, and sent a message to my father saying I would prepare dinner. He replied that the case he was working on was going to me smooth so he would be home an hour early.

Valentine Morgenstern was a successful Los Angeles lawyer. Married at the young age of twenty-one to Jocelyn Fairchild. Apparently, they knew each other from their youth and their parents had been delighted at their marriage. I knew though, that my parents loved each other.

Our mother died of cancer seven years earlier, and it was devastating. But instead of falling into despair we had a lot of counseling and here we are, Happy and Strong. What always bugged me Is that no one attended mother's funeral. It was just close friends and some of dad's and mom's business associates. No family, form either side. I knew of no uncles, aunts or cousins. All I over heard is that Father and Mother were from strong European families.

I was disturbed yet again by my brother, "Clary what are you making? I am hungry."

"Sushi. And is that why you drank so much water? You were too lazy to make yourself some food?" I asked incredulous.

He smiled sheepishly, "Whatever."

I looked at his black eyes, that I loved, "Do something useful and set up the table, yeah?"

He got plates, cups, and chopsticks all the color of red and placed them on the black dinning room table. He shouted toward the kitchen, "Anything else, Little Chef?"

"Come in here, and I will show you", she responded. He walked in the kitchen and saw no one there. Turning on his heel, he stopped when he felt someone smack him in his rear. It was Clary with a red kitchen towel, that was extremely wet.

"You little-," he said and was about to get her when their father entered the house.

"I'm home kids," he said in his deep voice.

Johnathan make a horizontal line on his throat and mouthed 'wait for later. your dead.'

The two Morgenstern siblings took the food Clary had prepared and ate in silence. Not because it was awkward, they were all just really hungry. In the middle of their dinner, a loud engine sounded in the peaceful street of Longsword Ave. The dinning table was positioned in front of a window that over looked their front neighbors house, the Herondales.

Apparently they were moving because the loud engine turned out to be a moving van.

She broke their silence, "Daddy, I didn't know the Herondales were moving elsewhere."

Valentine glanced out the window as if he had not heard the moving truck. "Oh, no Little Cherry, they are not. The Lightwoods are moving in. A niece and two nephews to the Herondales. I am sorry I forgot to mention it."

Johnathan arched an eyebrow, "A niece?" Clary looked at him disgustingly.

"I do hope you like her, she is thirteen," Valentine said. Clary and her father burst out laughing at Johnathan's face of horror.

"Forget I said anything," said Johnathan.

"Actually you guys might get along with the eldest boy, Alec. He is seventeen, your age, little Cherry," said Valentine.

She smiled at him but knew that no one would be so dear in her heart besides Jace Herondale, her twenty-five year old neighbor.

...

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to this story.

I am sorry about the spelling and grammatical errors.

Any Questions ask me.

Follow-&-Favorite.

Review.