Welcome back! Here's to hoping you enjoy chapter 2! I wanted to get the second chapter out quickly. From here on out the frequency will be at least once a week until the conclusion.

*****One week later - Alec*****

Alec had been distracted after the party, getting a promising appointment with a potential new client. His parents had always told their children that deeds well done would do the work for them and his most recent success had been better than any advertisement he could pay for.

Not that he was knocking advertisements. Without them he wouldn't be standing outside a pair of black double doors that would open into one of two penthouse units on the top floor of a nice condo building in Brooklyn rehearsing his casually forward, non-threateningly relaxed approach for round two. Clary's parents had shown her an ad they had found particularly amusing which Clary had then shared with her best friend, Simon, who shared it with Izzy, his girlfriend, who had found it necessary to share it with her older brother expecting him to find it absurd.

Well, he had found it absurd but less because it was low budget and cheesy and more because he had been considering the best way to ask Izzy if the Institute had any technology on hand that could match a blurry security video still with a real person and also if she could get a still of the man from the security video from during the event and instead fate had made the next step absurdly easy.

Magnus. Magnus Bane. That name didn't sound like sweaters and sub-par sex in the dark. It sounded like party crashing and fun and, well, hoaky psychic readings apparently. Which is how he had ended up outside the man's place of business, that also seemed to be his home, with the last appointment of the day. He had passed the previous client getting off of the elevator so all he had to do was knock.

Just lift his hand, rap on the wood, get off his opening line. Easy. It wasn't technically an invasion of privacy, he had an appointment. Just knuckles to door and say, "Can I hope you saw this coming?" One hand casually in his pocket, the other, still raised from knocking, would allow him to lean into the door as it opened. He looked good leaning, standing too, sitting wasn't a bad angle, lying down was his favorite, but yeah, leaning fed into the casual sexual energy he was planning to utilize.

Enough stalling.

Alec raised his hand, let his posture relax, and started as he realized the door was already opening and the man with the name that screamed adventure was standing there, mouth slightly open. Magnus was dressed in the most mundane business casual wear topped with a loose fitting, white, cable knit sweater. He looked like a sexy marshmallow, or cloud, or something else cute and hug-able.

He stared for one second, or just a few, he wasn't quite sure. But he definitely snapped out of it first. Thankfully. He could rally, work with this. He strode forward into the room, lightly patting Magnus on the shoulder as he passed him.

Hm, not a marshmallow under that sweater. Nice.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced," Alec said, executing a quick half turn ending with a playful bounce and clasping his hands behind his back. The man obviously wasn't prepared for him so his pre-planned line would come off more as a slight than playful at this point in the surprise. "I'm Alec Lightwood, your four o'clock."

*****Magnus*****

Hm. Ah. This doesn't bode well.

Really, Magnus hadn't expected anything to come of the almost catastrophe that had been the other world Clarissa opening a portal and letting demons through to a world without Shadowhunters. Call him an optimist but with his recently restored powers he had done quite the acceptable cover-up. He had closed the portal for good. He had disposed of the creature. He had spelled this world's Clarissa and Jace into believing they had sneaked away from the party to have a little private fun that had accidentally dislodged something from a shelf and knocked them out. He had wiped the videos of his existence. He had portaled out of the party back to his loft and his cats. He had made the events completely insignificant.

He hadn't dwelt much when he had dreamed of an inquiring smile and eyes over tea cups that confidently told you of inevitabilities and fate. Magnus was familiar with that composed, sure feeling, even if it had been a very long time. He just couldn't recall the last time it had been aimed at him and not by him. If it had ever been. He had gotten over that phase, had matured. After a few centuries even wild oats became tame and the field needed to lie fallow.

But with that other world Clary jolting him out of the rut he had settled into he should have known more than just his magic would awaken. He hadn't been celibate but he hadn't had it in him to really connect with a person for over a hundred years. It was easy enough to avoid, he just had to remind himself that mortals died and immortals were impossible to live with. Easy to avoid, that was, if gorgeous men with narrative eyes would stop showing up in front of him. No, not men. Just this one. With his eyes that make promises in details so clear it's like Magnus had written the story himself and knew each word intimately.

At the party he had been justifiably distracted, not giving the man in front of him more than a passing glance. Attractive. Confident. Mortal. Now, with him standing in his doorway in perfectly fitting dark jeans and a black button down with one too many buttons undone for anyone's sanity Magnus couldn't help but stand there and really take the man in. Yes, Magnus would have to be blind to not notice the athletic build of the body under the clothes (and even then, his powers may still have found a way). And the eyes, well, they weren't as focused as they had been but they were honest and open.

What really did it for Magnus though, was the man's mouth. It wasn't even that it was eminently kissable, it was but that wasn't it. It was that small kick up at the sides that could express the world. It was a mouth that could own a soul and worship a body.

Magus would later attribute his slowness in stabilizing to the recent events that jump started his life. He was playing catch up after a century, he deserved some leeway. That's how he would justify how he stood there, in his doorway, mouth slightly open, daydreaming about lips and the things they could do to mind, body, and soul while the other man was able to casually stroll in without missing a beat. He had touched Magnus' shoulder and even through the multiple layers of material Magnus had felt the heat of the man's large palm.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced," the man said, executing a quick half turn and clasping his hands behind his back with grace and an easiness Magnus did not feel in the moment. "I'm Alec Lightwood, your four o'clock."

Snap out of it. Say something. Do something. He can't yet be thirty and you're likely older than the country his ancestors came from.

"Um, Magnus," was all he could get out as he quickly closed his mouth and the door. Behind the man. Who was now inside his place.

"Magnus Bane, a pleasure."

"I didn't say Bane."

"Sure you did, in your ad, which I saw. Do I sit here?" the man,

Alec,

said teasingly as he walked further into the loft and pointed at what was obviously Magnus' work table complete with tarot cards, crystal ball, and a few gems mixed with crystals that were definitely fake if anyone asked.

"You're my four o'clock?"

"I'm your four o'clock."

Good, okay. If the world was going to throw this at him at least it had had the decency of doing so in a way Magnus could handle. He could do his job, he had done his job five other times just today. The attractiveness and obvious motives of the client aside, he had a script he could follow and then he could add Alec's number to the list to be ignored or give him a recommendation for another psychic who would be less likely to lose their composure just because of those lips.

"Yes, just have a seat there then. Forgive my lapse in professionalism so far. When we met I didn't get the feeling that you were grappling with any sort of indecision so I was a bit baffled to see you engaging my services."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I do hear people often find confidence, attractive." His voice pitched lower on the last word causing Magnus to amend his previous thoughts. The best thing about this mouth wasn't the mouth itself, but the voice that could come out of it.

Magnus sat across from Alec, doing his best to seem otherworldly rather than distracted. He reached for his deck of cards, the easiest and least physical of his tools. The others required some amount of touching or convincingly intense eye contact and that just wasn't happening.

"Have you ever had your cards read?"

"No, but I was rather hoping you'd do my palm instead," Alec said, eyes less joking and more hooded with intent, mouth quirked knowing he was challenging Magnus to breach the physical barrier he was hoping to keep in place. He unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and rolled it up slowly, watching Magnus as he did so. Even though it was entirely unnecessary to have that much skin exposed when the hand alone would do Magnus found himself unwilling to halt the action.

Magnus should have said no, should have come up with some lie about accuracy and Mercury. But he wasted the window to do so because he was too busy trying not to memorize the muscles as they moved in Alec's now exposed forearm. So he had two choices. Belatedly turn the session towards something safer, all but admitting to the other man he was practically helpless against any real move or suck it up and hope it didn't get worse. And while Magnus Bane hadn't had much competition in the last long stretch of his life he had never liked to lose.

He took the large hand, it was warm and lightly calloused and not at all as dainty as it should have been on such an immaculately put together human, and turned it palm up.

In for a penny…

He lightly traced along some of the lines there with his nail and, finally, being so aware of the other man paid off because he felt the hand barely contract as if wanting to wrap around his. He heard Alec's breathe catch and felt a small thrill. So maybe he wasn't as out of practice as he had assumed, just a little rusty, still good enough to fight back. Which was good because he also wasn't as closed off to the idea of seduction as he had assumed but wasn't sold on this being the next person he should get tangled up with. Alec seemed a bit much which younger Magnus would have jumped on but now just seemed like a lot of risk and such short lived reward.

Even if he was very much his type. And offering, Magnus wouldn't even have to put in any effort. He took a centering breath, let out a hum from deep in his throat, and lifted his eyes to meet Alec's.

*****Alec*****

Wow. Okay, wow.

So Alec had been prepared to go slow, lightly flirt, gently tease, and enjoy the process. He hadn't expected that once he had Magnus' full attention, once those dark chocolate eyes (flecked with gold, how had he missed that the first time?) had focused on him, he would feel a small twinge of uncertainty. He had pushed a bit, wanting the man to at least look at him and hoping he would touch him even if it was casually for business. He had not expected Magnus to push back and definitely not with skill that sent his imagination spiraling. If that is what his hand could feel like, being lightly held and caressed, then what could those hands do in a less restrained setting? And when Magnus had raised his eyes they had not been disengaged, they had been present, a decision had been made. Alec loved a challenge.

"Hm, well, you do have good hands."

"How so?"

"Well, take your life line. It's long, straight," Magnus chuckled at that, "and sure of itself. I feel that my initial assessment was right after-all and you don't really need my services." Magnus' eyes narrowed with sarcasm and false gravity.

"It's the only thing straight about me then," Alec smirked.

"You don't need a psychic to see that, Mr. Lightwood."

"Good. I was worried I was coming off a bit too subtle. And please, call me Alec, Magnus."

"No, rather loud and clear," Magnus replied ignoring the suggestion. "But I do wonder what your one true love would have to say about you making such practiced passes at every man you meet."

Alec was going to come back with a pithy compliment about hidden gems needing refined tools. But instead he found himself asking skeptically, "One true love?"

"Yes, well, that is what your love line says."

"My love line is fatalistically romantic?" Alec didn't like that. That wasn't sexy. That was, boring, mundane, and unnecessary.

"I would say hopelessly so."

For a moment Alec just stared at his palm. When he was younger he had always dreamed that maybe, one day, he would find his soulmate just like all the girls did in those romances Izzy watched and he pretended to despise. Just like those girls, he was going to find a dashing man to have a whirlwind romance and happily ever after with (it was clear from very early on he was gay). As he grew up some he added a hope for a partnership of respect like the one he thought his parents had. And when they divorced, his father having cheated extensively on his trips leaving his mother in pieces with three children and the auction house to manage by herself, he saw the weakness he was capable of, the hurt he could allow another person to cause him, and had promptly thrown away all plans to find the one, exchanging them for many ones right now.

"Mr. Lightwood?" Magnus asked, covering the palm with his other hand, breaking Alec's focus on the offending line. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. I was just thinking since I've shown you mine...," he let his words trail, punctuated with a wink.

Deflect.

He needed to turn this back around. He already knew himself well enough, he didn't need to know what lines caused by years of pencil holding meant.

"You're not paying to have me read my own hand."

"Is that an option?"

"Why would you possibly want it to be?"

"You know why," Alec replied, and feeling a bit vulnerable and needing to gain control of the encounter he turned Magnus' top hand over, laying it lightly on the table and traced down his fingers, unfurling them, to expose his palm fully. "What's yours say?"

"Which one?" Magnus quietly asked.

"Your love line." Alec pulled his hand back leaving his fingers resting just past Magnus', loathe to stop the foreplay but not wanting to give Magnus a reason to do so himself.

Magnus chuckled sadly at that, breaking eye contact. "Well, you can see I have multiple branches from it, and multiple breaks," he explained, indicating with his free hand as he explained. "Each one a heartbreak full of fond memories." He tried curling his hand back up but Alec stretched out his fingertips and held Magnus' in place, faintly touching pads.

"And that one?"

"Hm?" Magnus seemed distracted.

Good.

"This one," Alec said, softly following Magnus' fingers down to where they joined his palm until he could point directly to a specific branch. Magnus' fingers subconsciously curled with the contact brushing the underside of his palm in return.

Progress.

"The last branch. It's deeper than the others. Does that mean something special?" Alec had to admit, he had never paid so much attention to a hand before.

"No. Not at all."

*****Magnus*****

"No. Not at all," Magnus lied and pulled back his hand. Sighing and closing his eyes he continued, "Mr. Lightwood, I would like to help you if I can but I fear you're just here to waste my time. Do you actually have a need or can we consider this session complete?"

He watched as Alec pulled his hands back so he could support his weight as he leaned forward on the table, playful smile putting that mouth to good use.

"I need,"

"You cannot have my number." Magnus was not actually psychic, he was pretty sure, but the man wasn't exactly trying to obscure his thoughts.

"Is it different than the one in the ad?"

"Yes."

"Your,"

"Nor my email."

"How about,"

"I don't have Facebook."

"Then,"

"I have no DMs to slip into."

"LinkedIn?"

"Stop."

"Fine. I guess I'll just have to wait until next week."

"What?!"

"Yeah," answered the infuriating man as he stood up. "I scheduled your 'Ten Sessions to a New You' package and, unfortunately per your fine print, you don't do refunds."

"I'll make an exception." Magnus was panicking. If he couldn't dissuade the man he was looking at the longest weeks of his life, including that time he got stranded on an island all alone in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle with his powers malfunctioning, warring with himself over whether to indulge with a mortal he felt unbalanced with or to shut him down to protect them both as Magnus did actually believe the bits he had said during the actual reading.

"I won't. A man's word and all. What sort of impression would that make if I took advantage of you. What would your other clients think of it? I run a business based on reputation, as do you. No, we'll muddle through well enough."

"Mr. Lightwood..."

"I'll see myself out," he said moving quickly to make his escape, stopping briefly to scratch Church on the head. And Church let him.

Magnus didn't move from his seat, just dropped his head into his hands as he heard his front door close. Alec had asked about that line and even though Magnus knew he hadn't know anything it had ruined his mood. He had almost considered enjoying the attention but, that line. Camille. The end of that line had wrecked him more than the death of any of his mortal lovers. She was immortal. He had loved her. They had no barrier to their love. Well, besides the fact that she had, apparently, never loved him.

That line was a lasting memory that he had had one shot at a deep, lasting love and wasted it. It had shaken him so much that he had sealed off his powers, had removed himself from the few immortal contacts he had, and had gone in pursuit of routine and the safety of a life where he didn't draw eyes.

Until he had been needed. It felt good to be needed.

And to be wanted.

There had been more excitement packed into a day than he had had since Camille in total. And a single pair of eyes had found him, locked on to him like they knew the coordinates of his soul, and dared him to come out to play.

Maybe he had made a mistake, it could be fun. What was the real risk? Nothing could come anywhere close to being as deep, or as painful, as what he had already felt. Magnus knew he would be safe with the obvious man.

The only complications were his baggage and...that other love line. True love. It was normally a joyous sign to those he read but he got the feeling Alec had been less than thrilled with the prospect. On second thought, lips and all they promised aside, he had been right. Very little could mess with fate but immortals were always a bit of a gray area. He'd never wish the loss of love or the loss of the chance to love on anyone and wasn't that just the most convenient excuse ever.