Maryse blinked. The room was dark, its window was facing the backyard, so the citylights wouldn't enter. Only the faint glow of the crescent moon was barely illuminating the bedroom. Still full of sleep, she was pushing her body up to place herself against the bed's backrest. Robert was sleeping, snoring only the tiniest bit, definitely not loud enough to wake her or to make getting back to sleep hard on her.

She checked the alarmclock. The numbers were shining in their distinctive red colour. 2:27 a.m.

She was terribly thirsty, that might have been the reason why she had woken up. Jesus, she hadn't slept that well in weeks. Maybe it was his visit that had calmed her down, enough to make her gain some recovering rest.

Silently, she slipped out of bed in order to get herself a glass of water from the bathroom. Her hair had become a little messy from sleeping, it wasn't as neatly pinned up as it had been when she had fallen asleep.

She closed the bathroom's door and turned on the light. The bulb flickered first, but then the bathroom was fully illuminated.

It was a plain bathroom, no decorations, no candles or pictures. How should it look like it was frequently used when it wasn't.

Maryse checked her reflection in the mirror only shortly and got hold of a glass to get some water from the faucet. She had the first gulp in the bathroom, but then she turned off the lights again and went back into their bedroom. She did not exactly need a fully illuminated room to find the way back, her vision was overaverage compared to humans and she knew the way by heart.

After placing the glass she had brought with her onto the old, wooden nightstand, she sat down on the bed's edge and loosened her hair. She did not want to rearrange it to look perfect while sleeping, but to avoid tangling it into knots in her sleep. The brush went through her healthy hair like a knife cuts through butter. Only her and Robert's breathing were disturbing the nearly peaceful tranquility the room was filled with.

In mid-movement of brushing , Maryse heard a low muffled voice and the sounds of rustling sheets.

„I'm sorry, I was just thirsty, I did not mean to wake you up", she whispered. Clearly, Robert had woken up.

Maryse threw her hair forward, so it was flowing down the right side of her front, and continued to brush it.

Robert did not answer immediatly. Instead he grabbed the chance and placed a soft kiss on the curve Maryse's neck made.

„That's okay", he said.

Maryse smiled mildly about the tiny kiss, a gesture so familiar, yet it soothed her every time again.

Already expecting that he would go back to sleep immediatly, she took the tiny rubber band from her wrist to tie her hair again. To her surprise and delight, Robert did not stop to kiss her neck. To the contrary, his kisses went further down her shoulder and Maryse had the feeling, they adapted a certain urging edge.

She refrained from tieing her hair and closed her eyes, clearly enjyoing his affection. Unwittedly she tilted her head to the side, supplying him with more room to do what he was doing.

„Robert", she chuckled lowly, „what do you think you are doing?"

„Nothing", he answered in that muffled, slightly tense voice again as he was lifting her top's strap off her shoulder to kiss the skin he freed.

„Just kissing my wife's shoulder", he continued, „which does not constitute a major offence towards Clave law, now, does it?"

Maryse couldn't decide which one of two was making her smile that contently, his loving teasing or the feeling his lips gave her, but what did it matter anyway.

„Noooooo," she whispered back, „it doesn't, but I wonder whether you are by your senses or just had an interesting dream."

„Ah", he answered quickly, „Does it really matter?"

It didn't. By now Maryse had bent her body just the slightest bit. She was able to look at Robert now, who was behind her and bracing his massvie body on one elbow, while his other arm was already about to wrap itself around Maryse's torso. His lips never ceased to spread tiny kisses all over her skin.

She lifted a hand and lead it to his face. Very gently she cupped his cheek and pulled his face closer by applying just the slightest bit of force into the movement.

There was this moment, when their gazes locked and the held on to it. Their looks were intense and resembled the trust that they had towards each other. Those looks you did not exchange with your new boyfriend or your hook-up. And then Maryse closed the distance to cover his lips with hers.

The kiss started off gentle and tender, their lips fitting so perfectly to each other, you could assume they had been made for this.

It did not take them long to loose this patience though. Robert added more force into their lips' dance, he split her lips with his tongue and invaded her mouth. They did not do french kissing in public anymore, frankly, they were too old for that now, but hell, both of them still loved it. Maryse just willingly allowed him to do what he was doing and she tilted her head, granting a better access and a more comfortable position. Still, her hand was holding his face, her thumb fondly stroking over the stubble of his beard.

His free arm followed the curve of her side, over her hip and over her belly, up to her chest. He refrained from sliding his hand underneath the soft fabric of her top though. Instead, he started kneading her breast above it.

Very gently she moaned into the kiss and turned her body a little more. He was still more or less behind her and it took her some bending to kiss him. So, she withdrew from their kiss only to rearrange their positions. And that meant she fully turned and faced him. Her hands added a faint pressure to his chest and he understood. He was falling back into the sheets already. Not a second later, she was lying on him, her slender figure not inflicting too much weight onto his body. Both of them must have shared the thought, since same moment that Maryse was lowering her head towards him, he was already bending up to catch her head and renew the contact their lips had made, renew the kiss. She received him willingly and followed the way back into the sheets, as he was lying back again.

Her elbows were supporting her body on both sides of his head now, her fingers buried in his hair.

His hands on the contrary, were all over her. First they were only meekly tracing along her sides, but the more their kiss' intensity grew, the more incisive the urge in his touch became, until his hands finally came to rest on her butt, where he continued the kneading he had inflicted on her chest just seconds ago. But he could not hold on for long and so he started tugging at her top's hem.

„I think you need to get rid of that shirt, Mrs. Lightwood", he whispered against her lips, his breath ticklig the sensitve, rosy skin there.

„Would you do that for me?", she responded with her voice and her body, that was bending up a little. He had an easy game pulling the shirt off of her. And he did not hestitate to flip their bodies around and bury her underneath him, so he could start explore the skin he just freed, but could not see in the dark room, with his lips.

Maryse moaned.

Yes, Isabelle had a guilty conscience by now. For sure, it had been unfair to remove her weapons from her room like her Mum had done, but she had been a real bitch when they were talking in the library. She had sensed that Maryse had been some kind of sad, even that she might have had a desire to talk to her, sort things out. But frankly, Izzy had been too vexed and clearly overchallenged with her own temper, to give into her mother's mood.

Now she was standing in the institute's elevator, re-phrasing how she could start off a conversation with her mother without provoking another fight. Admittedly, the Lightwood women had a temper, but in the end they loved each other and Izzy wanted to get over it. And so did her Mum, at least that was what she assumed. Oh, how she wished her father was in NY, he could have easily calmed both of them down. But he wasn't and they were grown ups, so she had to do this by herself.

Either way, it was in the middle of the night, she did not expect to find Maryse awake in the library, she was probably either hunting or sleeping.

When Isabelle went past her mother's bedroom's door – or rather her parent's bedroom – she hestiated. Least thing she could do was check on her Mum and apologize. That would give her the opportunity to fall to sleep without a guilty conscience at least. She stopped and opened the door, for some reason she did not knock. And her jaw dropped.

Robert had his back turned towards the door as he was moving his body in the rythm himself and his wife had quickly adapted. Maryse seemed so fragile as she was writhing underneath him, but at the same time she was so beautiful. The blanket barely covered their lower bodies. Little beads of sweat were running down his spine and the hollow inbetween her breasts. Every now and then Maryse would moan, so did he. Not as loudly as they had yelled in their early days, but clearly both of them were enjyoing their nightly action a lot. He was about to slow down his pace, torture his wife a little, when suddenly the door opened. He stopped his movement immediatly and turned his head towards the door. So did Maryse, who had stopped purring and stared now.

But all they heard was just a scream and the loud noise as the door fell shut.

„OH MY FUCKING GOD!", Izzy screamed as she was staring at the couple that was lying in bed, obviously devouring each other right now. She could not identify the man that was obviously lying on her mother, who other woman could have been in her mothers bedroom. But she did not have time to really check who it was since her first reaction was getting rid of the sight, thus slamming the door shut.

„OH MY FUCKING GOD!"; she repeated herself, instantly blushing even more about the exact choice of words. How could she? How could her mother bed another men while her father was in Idris? That was so not Maryse and that was plainly inacceptable.

„MOM I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE DOING THIS!", Izzy exclaimed while she was still standing infront of the bedroom's door. Her arms were wrapped around her figure the one moment and gesticulating randomly the other. She started to pace up and down. If her mother expected her to kindly ignore what she had just seen and be polite enough to take off, she was truly mistaken. She continued her yelling.

„I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE DOING THIS WHEN DAD'S IN IDRIS, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE BETRAYING HIM LIKE THAT; I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE BRINGING A MAN TO THIS BEDROOM! WHAT KIND OF WOMAN ARE YOU? HE LOVES YOU AND YOU JUST.....".

She only stopped to rank her accusations to breathe in.

Then, the door opened. Robert – dressed in a shirt and boxers again – leaned in the doorframe, one arme above his head, the other was holding the door as close at it was possible with him inbetween. His skin was still damp with sweat and he was throwing a questioning glance at his griping daughter.

„Hello Izzy", he said with a smug grin on his face and amusement in his voice.

Izzy lost every facial expression she had ever had.

„DAD?", she exclaimed with a beet-red face, „DAD??? It was you in...", she pointed at the door, „it was not, I mean I thought you were in Alicante, I..."

Isabelle was lacking words. Rare.

„Obviously," Robert responded, „I am not". That faint grin would not leave his lips, not as he was bending forward in order to kiss his daughter on the cheek.

„EEEWH!", Izzy yelled. She was lifting her hands up to keep Robert away, she even jumped back a little, „DON'T! I don't even want to know where your lips have been a couple of minutes ago!"

„Good to see you, too", Robert snickered.

Izzy could not decide, which feeling was ruling her mind right now. Shock or aversion. But right now, it was rather aversion. No way her father was allowed to kiss her when he had just made out with her Mum. Okay, admittedly, she was his wife but still, they were her parents, they were not supposed to have sex. And if they had, she was not supposed to know and surely not witness.

„I can't believe you were having sex here, this is just disgus...it's ...", Izzy was still puzzled.

„Us making love is the reason why you exist, sweetheart", Robert lectured her. But Isabelle could not find the situation half as funny as Robert did.

The door opened a slight bit more and Maryse – dressed in her drawstring pants and top again – appeared. She had obviously taken her time to rearrange her hair, making sure that she did not look as, well, worn out as someone does after having gotten it on.

„Isabelle", she said, lacking the amusement Robert had in his voice, „are you alright?"

She was stepping out of the room, towards her daughter.

„Whether I am...what? NO! I just walked in on my parents having sex, what do you think???", Izzy said, still a little frantic.

„Well, why don't you go back to sleep and Izzy and I have a cup of tea, hm?" Maryse adressed Robert. Her hand was placed on his chest, she would not kiss him now, Isabelle was shocked enough.

„Fair enough," Robert answered and placed a kiss upon Maryse's hair. „I'll see you tomorrow, Izzy", he told his daughter and vanished into the bedroom again.

Maryse threw a curious glance at Izzy. But then she turned an walked down the corridor, headed for the kitchen.

Izzy didn't know whether she wanted to have a cup of tea with her mother just now, but triggered by some mysterious impulse, she followed. The were both silently walking. They kept their silence even during fixing tea. Well, that meant, Izzy sitting at the table, staring at the bowl of fruits, that looked strangely out of place in the Institute's kitchen, while Maryse was getting the drinks done.

Only when the cups were placed on the table and both ladies were seated, Maryse spoke up.

„Isabelle, I'm very sorry, but you should have knocked.", she apologized. It seemed like Maryse was putting even more effort in letting her voice sound calm in order to calm her upset daughter down. Then she lifted up her mug to drink.

„I...should. yeah", Izzy nodded slowly.

„Hey Mum, Sorry for assuming you were having an affair or anything, I just thought Dad was in Alicante and....sorry. No offence meant.", Izzy added quickly, her cheeks still rosy.

Maryse couldn't help but grin while she was drinking.

„None taken.", she said.

Izzy noticed her mothers mild grin immediatly. She exhaled. Still, she was embarrased and utterly uncomfortable with the situation, but she had to grin the faintest bit.

„Actually, I mean, when you still do it, it means you still love each other meaning you won't divorce, which is good, some parents don't do....", Izzy stopped herself from trying to say anything to ged rid of the embarrasement she felt.

„But I mean, walking in on you and Dad sucked," she continued. Okay, worst choice of words ever. The red colour on Isabelle's cheek grew darker,

„damn, I meant, it was ...whatever, urm."

Maryse nodded and supressed another grin..

„Isabelle. It's all good, okay?", Maryse helped out.

Izzy lowered her head slowly, sideglancing at her Mum for a moment. Weirdest thing was, Maryse had that faint glow Izzy found on herself after having had a nice night. Eeew. That thought grossed her out again. So she occupied her hand with her mug and had some of her tea too.

They had their teas in silence. A good silence, though.

Izzy didn't care to put her mug into the dishwasher. That was okay for Maryse though.

After a moment of pondering, Izzy got up and said,

„So, urm, I think I'll hit the pillow, I...can we talk tomorrow?"

„Sure we can, I'll fix us some breakfast.", Maryse smiled at Isabelle, caringly.

Isabelle rushed out of the kitchen. She needed a shower urgently, like it was helping to forget that image that was going to be stuck in her mind forever.

Maryse however smiled gleefully as she was rinsing the mugs.