Clary sighed softly as she stared out of her window at the rain pouring down outside. It was so boring to be home alone. Luke was out at the hospital, and had suggested kindly but firmly that she should stay home this time, insisting that she was worn out and should try to get some sleep. Already it was around 5:00 pm, and she had accomplished absolutely nothing since Luke had left that morning. "Huh. Sleep? I should be so lucky!" Clary muttered to herself, before yawning widely and turning from the window. It was true, she was worn out, but for some reason she hadn't been sleeping well lately. She had nightmares involving Valentine and his army of demons that caused her to wake up screaming. And when it wasn't these, it was dreams about the one person she wouldn't – and couldn't – admit to dreaming about. Her brother, Jace. The word brother caused her heart to ache painfully. At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. Clary jumped in surprise, and wondered who it could be. It couldn't be Simon; they'd spoken on the phone only an hour earlier, and Clary had expressly stated that he shouldn't come over. Even though he could come outside in the day now, he was worn out from staying up all night before Jace's blood had given him the ability to go out in the sun, and needed catch up on sleep and settle back into a normal sleeping pattern. Another alternative sent pleasant shivers down Clary's spine. Jace. But she shook the thought from her head. She and Jace hadn't spoken since their meeting in the café the week before, when he told her he would be just her brother, though that wasn't through lack of trying on his part. She simply ignored all his calls; and there had been a lot of them. This was what she wanted, right? Her and Jace were siblings. But simply the memory of Jace's face, happy and eager to please, made Clary's eyes tear up and a feeling of helplessness seized her. If it was Jace, as she knew she hoped deep inside it would be, seeing him and keeping her feelings under control would be much too difficult, and she didn't even want to think about that right now. They seemed to have grown ten times stronger than before. Another insistent ring of the doorbell snapped Clary out of her thoughts, and she shouted "Coming!" before hurrying to the front door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

It was Jace. As always, his beauty knocked the breath from her lungs. He peered up at her through his lashes, his golden hair plastered to his scalp by the rain. Even though it must be freezing, he stood on the doorstep in only a white t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt was soaked through and nearly completely transparent, leaving nothing to the imagination. She could clearly see the faint scars left by runes, and the defined muscles of his chest. "Hey sis," he said, snapping her from her reverie with the awful endearment (1). "Mind if I come in?" Clary shook her head to clear away the fog that seemed to have taken over her brain, and Jace looked confused. "Why not?" he queried, the arrogant tone in his voice gone and replaced by what Clary recognized as the beginnings of anger. "No! No, I didn't mean that. I was just…" Clary trailed off as Jace raised an eyebrow at her. "Urgh, just come in," she said, stepping aside and desperately trying to ignore the way her heart sped up when Jace grinned at her and walked in. Clary closed the door and turned, gasping in surprise when she came almost nose to nose with Jace. Well, nose to chest actually; she was far too short to actually be level with Jace's face. He chuckled quietly, and then just stood there, looking at her. Clary could feel her cheeks heating up, and pushed past Jace saying "You're absolutely soaked, you idiot! Whatever made you think coming out here in the pouring rain and wearing just a t-shirt was a good idea?" Jace grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, scornfully raising an eyebrow. "Not just a t-shirt, dear sister, in case you hadn't noticed I am wearing jeans too. I know I turn heads as it is with my amazingly good looks, but I think that would give me just a little bit too much of the wrong kind attention, don't you think?" He ran a hand through his wet hair and his eyes smoldered at her as a teasing smirk curled around his lips. Clary blushed involuntarily and said sharply "You know what I mean, Jace." Jace's smirk vanished, and he let go of her arm and pushed past her, walking into the living room. "I do, sis," he called back over his shoulder, "and though I'm touched by your sisterly concern, there is absolutely no need for it. I don't get ill. Ever." As he finished this sentence, he sneezed loudly. Clary tutted disapprovingly. "So, that wasn't you then?" she said mockingly, and walked over to Jace, who was looking completely astonished. "But I don't get ill!" he said. "I've never been ill in my entire life!"

"There's a first time for everything, Jace Wayland" Clary said severely. "Walking through the rain like that was just plain stupid. You were bound to get ill. Maybe this will teach you a lesson."

"Or maybe not," Jace said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Clary's breath caught in her lungs, and she struggled to speak. When she managed after a few seconds, her voice came our breathy. "Or maybe not," she agreed, "It is you after all." Jace laughed, but it turned into a fit of coughing. Clary looked at him worriedly. "Jace? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said sulkily, "there's nothing wrong with me. I don't get ill. Had a frog in my throat, that's all." Clary snorted and said "Well, ill or not, we'd best get you out of those wet clothes. I think there'll be some old stuff of Luke's you can borrow."

"Sure," Jace agreed, "these wet clothes are kind of uncomfortable." And he immediately began removing his shirt. Clary froze and tried to force herself to breathe, and to calm the raging blush that had manifested in her cheeks as she watched him pull his shirt over his head and toss it in the corner. When Jace turned and looked at her, curiosity evident in his eyes, she spun on a heel and quickly walked away. "I'll go get some clothes for you," she croaked without looking back, "I'll be five minutes." In Luke's room she stopped and leaned against the wall, thanking god that she'd managed to get out before he'd started to remove his jeans. And he would've done: that was just Jace. A wry smile crept onto her face as she pictured his arrogant expression, totally unembarrassed by the situation. She would probably have fainted from the shock. When she felt she'd recovered sufficiently, Clary started to move around the room, collecting items of clothing from various drawers. She was pretty sure Luke wouldn't mind lending them to Jace. When she had an old pair of jeans and a checked flannel shirt, some thin socks and a warm looking fleece she headed back to the living room. "Jace?" she called. "Yep?" he surprised her by swinging the door open and looking at her questioningly. Oh god. Oh no. Damndamndamn. This was exactly the situation Clary had been hoping to avoid. Jace stood in front of her, naked except for a pair of white Y-fronts. The blood rushed to her face and she thrust the clothes at him, before turning and storming off, babbling about getting him a drink and something to eat.

She reached the kitchen and leaned heavily against the wall, a hand over her heart and her eyes wide. She couldn't get that image out of her head. Jace's entire body was riddled with rune scars. Some people would say this made him imperfect: to Clary they made him even more beautiful. And it just wasn't fair, Clary thought, when he was already heart-stoppingly beautiful in the first place. She shouldn't feel this way! He was her brother for crying out loud! But you didn't know that when you fell in love with him, and the feelings aren't going to go away just because you've found out you're related, a small voice in the back of her mind told her. Clary ran her hands nervously through her hair, and ignored the voice. She really needed to stop this. And she could! Why not? He wasn't even that good looking, she half heartedly tried to convince herself. And he was an arrogant prick. You just keep telling yourself that, the voice muttered, you know I'm right. "Shut up," Clary mumbled aloud, and jumped when Jace's voice spoke right next to her ear. "What?"

Clary blushed again and stuttered "I-I wasn't talking to you." Jace made a show of looking round the kitchen, an expression of exaggerated confusion on his face. "But I don't see anyone else here, sis. Were you talking to yourself? You know that's the first sign of madness, right?"

"Oh, shut up," Clary scowled, walking across the room to the fridge and wrenching the door open. She meticulously studied the contents of the fridge, trying to avoid looking at Jace for as long as possible, before selecting a jar of pasta sauce and saying over her shoulder "D'you want some pasta?"

"Sure." Jace sounded bored. He was seated at the wooden table and looking aimlessly around the kitchen. Clary turned round when his eyes settled on her, and began bustling around preparing the pasta. After a few more minutes Jace spoke. "So sis, what've you been up to this past week?" Clary froze. Oh shit. She had been hoping to avoid this topic. "Oh, I've been busy," she said breezily, "you know. This, that and the other…" She heard Jace getting up and fought not to turn around. He walked right up to her, his chest pressed to her back, and placed his hands on her sides. Clary trembled as he bent his head and whispered angrily in her ear, "No, I don't know, Clary. You'll have to tell me what you did. After all, you must have been really busy for you to have missed all my calls… all week." Clary stiffened as Jace's breath ghosted past the shell of her ear. "I-I was," she croaked, but she knew she sounded less than convincing. The sound of her name on his lips sent an excited tingle right through her body. Jace pressed closer to her and murmured, "Oh, you were, were you?" Clary lent back back slightly into his touch before catching herself and pulling away. "Yes. I was." Jace stumbled and glared at her furiously, before breaking into a fit of coughing. Immeadiately, Clary moved back to his side, and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Jace? Are you okay?" Jace shook his head wildly, tears forming in his eyes. Clary took charge. "Right. No more of this. We're getting you somewhere warm." She led Jace out of the room and along the corridor, until they reached the door of her room. She wasn't very happy with this situation, but she honestly couldn't think where else to put him; it wasn't fair to use Luke's bed, Jace was her problem, not his. Sighing, Clary opened the door and led Jace through. By this time he had finished coughing, and was looking around him with interest. "Your room? Wow. Haven't been here before." The walls were a pale blue, and the curtains made of white lace. A huge four-poster bed took up most of the space – the room wasn't really very big – and a small desk stood in the corner, with a laptop closed on top of it. The bed had sheets that matched the walls and looked very comfortable. "Uh huh," Clary said, "Well you'll be seeing it for the rest of today at least. Get in the bed."

"What? Why?"

"You're ill, Jace. You need to be somewhere warm. Lie down and I'll get you a hot drink and that pasta. Okay?"

"But I'm fi-"

"No buts, Jace," Clary growled, narrowing her eyes and looking sternly at him. To her surprise, Jace turned and pulled back the covers, lying down between them before pulling them back up all the way to his chin and looking at her expectantly. "Go on then," he said, a teasing note creeping into his voice, "don't keep me waiting, wench." Clary huffed and turned around to hide the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

About ten minutes later, she walked back into the room carrying a small tray with a plate of pasta and a glass of lemsip. When she walked in the room, Jace immediately struggled upright on the mass of pillows: he was almost bouncing up and down in anticipation, and looked so young and cute that Clary giggled. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her quizzically as she placed the tray on the bedside table. "Its nothing," she answered his unspoken question, "you just looked so funny." Jace looked at her a second longer before shrugging and reaching to take the tray. Clary waited as he tucked into the food. "Mmm! 'S good!" Jace exclaimed with his mouth full. Clary frowned and grumbled to herself "You sound so surprised."

Jace finished the pasta very quickly, then turned to the Lemsip. He took a sip and looked at the glass with distaste. "What's this?"

"Lemsip," Clary said briskly, "it will help with the coughing, so drink it."

Jace looked at it warily, then shrugged. "If you say so," he said, and downed the glass in one go. "Good," satisfied, Clary collected the glass and plate and put them back on the tray, returning a few seconds later after taking them back to the kitchen. She pulled the chair out from underneath the desk and turned it round, so that she was sitting at the side of the bed, facing Jace. There was a short silence, until suddenly Jace said, "Clary, we need to talk."

Clary blinked. "What about?"

Jace looked slightly uncomfortable, and his cheeks reddened. "Look… I… I can't do this!"

"Do what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Clary! I-I can't just be your brother!" Jace had turned so he was leaning on one elbow and was glaring fiercely at her. Clary's mouth dropped open. Jace went even redder, and dropped his eyes to the duvet. "Look… I know you want me to be your brother… but the truth is, I can't. I've tried. This whole week I've tried. We haven't talked, true, but when you didn't answer my calls, I… I just wanted to come over here, and force you to talk to me," he looked up and into Clary's wide eyes, "but I kept thinking, 'Should I? How would a brother act? Would they care this much?' And the truth is Clary… Well…" He leaned forwards slightly, and unconsciously Clary did the same, so there was only and inch of space between their lips as they stared into each other's eyes. "The truth is that I love you, more than a brother should, and I can't forget that… no matter how hard I try." And with that, he leaned forwards and closed his eyes as he pressed his lips softly to hers.

Clary froze as she fought the urge to kiss him back. He's my brother! My brother! She tried to remind herself.

Who cares? You love him, and he's kissing you right now, so hurry up and kiss him back!

But he's my brother!

After a few seconds Jace pulled back and looked at her. She stared at him with a frightened look in her eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. She hated herself for deploring the loss of contact. Wrenching her gaze away from his, she stammered, "You-you need to get some rest." And turned and walked quickly out of the room, muttering to herself. Jace followed her with his eyes and only caught the words "…fever… not thinking straight… wouldn't have done that otherwise…" He sighed and violently flung himself back into the pillows, covering his face with his hands. He pictured Clary, smiling, her green eyes glowing with laughter as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't understand the effect she had on him. When she'd opened the door, her beauty nearly made him lose composure and pull her towards him, to kiss her, to hold her, but he held back.

Clary was stunning. Her pale skin contrasted beautifully with the bronze freckles scattered lightly across the bridge of her nose, her green eyes were big and ringed with long, dark lashes. Her button nose sat above a pair of full, pink lips that were nearly always smiling. She had a heart shaped face surrounded by cascading waves of red hair, almost down to her slim waist, and her body had curves in all the right places.

And one of the most attractive things about Clary was that she didn't even realize how gorgeous she was.

Jace sighed again. He had known Clary would react this way. After all, they were related. Jace knew this should bother him, but somehow it didn't. He just wanted Clary, no matter the problems or the consequences. He loved her, and he was sure she loved him… until now. Clary's obvious fear and her rejection hit him hard, and caused a nauseating pain in his stomach as he considered the idea that perhaps he was the only one who cared.

…Maybe she'd chosen Simon after all. The horror of this idea caused the pain in his stomach to double as he remembered the burning jealousy he'd felt when Simon had referred to Clary as his 'girlfriend'. At first he'd thought it was simply Simon, infatuated with Clary and seeing things that simply weren't there, but when Clary hadn't denied it, and had simply blushed… He could have throttled the boy right there. But he couldn't even kill Simon, because that would hurt Clary. It was a no win situation. Then, at the fairie court, when he'd kissed Clary, he could have sworn there was something there. She'd kissed him back, hadn't she? But immediately afterwards she'd run off after Simon again.

The mixed signals were confusing the hell out of him.

SHIT! Clary screamed inside her head as she sat down at the kitchen table. She leant forwards and repeatedly banged her forehead against the table's hard wooden surface. Shit shit shit shit shit. She stopped bashing the table and rested her head in her hands. Clary you idiot! What are you doing! You love him!

But he's your brother!

Who cares! He loves you too by the looks of things! And think, didn't the Queen of the Seelie Court drop hints about you two maybe not being related?

Clary looked up. That was true. She had said to Jace "Next time you see your father, ask him what blood runs in your veins."(2) To Clary, that sounded as though she was hinting that Jace maybe did not carry Morgenstern blood. Clary dropped her head into her hands again. Stop it. That's just wishful thinking.

…But what if its not?

Clary groaned in frustration. She wished there was someone she could talk to. Luke was out of the question. They'd both be too embarrassed to even look at each other for weeks afterwards, and seeing as she was living with him, that could be pretty awkward. Simon was also not eligible. He was in love with her, so he wouldn't want to hear her talking about another boy. Alec… was in love with Jace. And besides, it wasn't like they knew each other well, or to be brutally honest, even liked each other. Isobel was a possibility, but for some reason Clary didn't feel comfortable with the idea of telling Isobel about her relationship with Jace, especially because she'd once had (and still had, if she was honest with herself) suspicions about the nature of Jace and Isobel's relationship.

Clary knew who she really wanted to talk to, but it was impossible.

Her mother.

Who was currently in a self-induced coma to protect her knowledge from Valentine.

And they still didn't know how to wake her up (3).

The thought of her mother brought another unwelcome doubt to her mind. What would her mother do if she knew that Clary were romantically involved with the son she presumed lost? It would break her heart. Clary looked at the clock on the wall, and jumped in surprise. It was almost 10:00 pm! Luke would be back in about half an hour to make sure Clary didn't have to spend the night alone. Clary's heart sank as she realized the time meant she would have to face Jace, in order to tell him to ring Isobel or Alec and let them know he would be staying with Clary for the night (even with this situation, Clary was not letting him out of her sight until he was 100% better). She approached her bedroom reluctantly, and knocked softly on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again, more loudly this time, but on the other side of the door it was still silent. She panicked. What if something had happened to Jace? Quickly pulling the door open, she burst inside – to see Jace sprawled across her bed, fast asleep. She relaxed, and just stood and watched him for a minute. His legs were tangled in the sheets, and his chest rose and fell gently as he breathed in and out. His cheeks were slightly red, and his blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He looked so vulnerable that Clary couldn't believe it was the same person. All those glimpses she'd caught of the real Jace, past his haughty exterior, were now shown in abundance as he slept. She crept closer, anxious not to wake him, and sat gently on the edge of the bed. She lifted her hand into the air, hesitated, and decided that what the hell, no one was here and proceeded to gently stroke Jace's hair out of his face. In that moment, Clary knew that she loved him. Really, really loved him. Enough to bypass the fact that they were siblings. Seeing him vulnerable just made her love him all the more. She started to cry. What were they going to do? They couldn't tell anyone. Everyone would be disgusted. They'd have to sneak around in secret, behind everyone's backs. Behind Simon's back. That would hurt. She'd told him absolutely everything since she was a little kid. And her mother could never know.

While Clary was caught up in her thoughts, she absent-mindedly continued to stroke Jace's head, and his eyelids fluttered. Suddenly, his eyes flicked open, alert, and he caught sight of Clary crying and realized that she was softly stroking his hair. He caught her wrist with his hand, and swiftly sat up. Clary jumped, and looked horror struck that she had been caught, desperately trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp as she wiped away tears with her other hand. Jace's heart twisted at the sight of Clary's tear streaked face. "Why are you crying?" he asked gently. Clary bit her lip, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "B-because… because I love you…" Jace's heart rate tripled, and a wide grin crept onto his face. Without saying a word, he gently pulled Clary towards him and kissed her, but she didn't respond. He pulled away and looked at her again, sadness evident in his eyes. "Is that really such a bad thing?"

Clary looked at him. "…no…" she whispered, "not for us… but think how many people its going to hurt. Simon… mum!!" She turned away again, but Jace gently cupped her face and turned it back so she was facing him again.

"Who cares what they think?" He said softly. "And if it's such a big deal, we just won't tell them. It will be difficult, sure… But I love you, so I want to try, no matter what the cost."

"Me too," Clary whispered.

"Good," said Jace, as he gently pulled her face towards him and their lips met.

***

A/N: (1) Is that the right word? (endearment). I'm not sure. I mean 'sis' by it, kinda like 'dear' or w/e. Anyone wanna tell me? Lol

(2) I think that's pretty much along the right lines. I don't have the book here with me at the moment so I can't check, so sorry if it isn't the exact words!

(3) For the purpose of the story I'm pretending that the end of City of Ashes (where the Shadowhunter states that she knows how to wake up Clary's mother) didn't happen, as I haven't read the third book yet (SO NO SPOILERS! D:) its easier for me to write that way.