Hi guys! So first off, I just wanted to say a massive thank you to those of you who left feedback for the previous chapter, particularly the guest reviewers since I couldn't reply to you personally. Writing does take a long time, especially chapters as long as these, so I really appreciate it when you guys take the time to leave me a review. Makes it that much more worth it!
Also, I forgot to add the date to the last chapter, so I've done that now. It took place on the 14th January. Dates are really important in this story ;)
So this chapter ended up being pretty long and I really hope you love it. I doubt the other regular chapters will be quite as long as this (there was a lot to fit in) but they'll still be around the 5K mark. A particular event in this chapter is also almost exactly like something that happened in real life, so I'll talk about that at the end. For now, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own TMI, TID or their characters. I do have awesome neighbours though.
A Tale Of Two…
Meetings
16th January
"Ah, dammit!" Clary cursed, watching the scalding water pool out around her tea mug. She grabbed a handful of paper towels, attempting to mop it up before it spread to her flatmate's precious bread collection. "Tessa, we really need to get a new kettle."
"Did it leak again?" Tessa's head snapped up at once. She'd been sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, completely engrossed by her book. For once, however, this one belonged to Clary. Since Aloysius had had a very limited collection of books in his mansion's library – the majority of which pre-dated the 20th century – she'd been raised purely on all the classics. In fact, before this year she'd outright refused to read any modern literature that wasn't compulsory for her English Lit degree. It was only after Clary's constant nagging that she'd finally agreed to try 'YA lit' and it wasn't anything like what she'd expected. The current book she'd been reading had her completely baffled. How could a story that she'd initially assumed was about missing a couple of meals involve so much brutality?
"All over the place," Clary grimaced, carrying the mush that remained of the paper towels over to the bin.
"Goodness," Tessa gasped. "Are my croissants safe?"
"Yes, I moved them in time."
"And the bagels?"
"All of your bread is safe, Tessa," Clary rolled her eyes, emptying whatever was left in the kettle into her mug. It trickled to a stop before it was even half full. She sighed. Just one more thing to add to the list of things leaving her unsatisfied. "Wish I could say the same for my sanity."
It had been two days since the two girls had formed the pact, and so far, it hadn't taken too much of a toll on Clary. The staying single part was easy enough – she hadn't left the flat yet – and getting over Raphael hadn't been as hard as she thought.
But she was still frustrated beyond belief.
She'd come to realise that being with Raphael had maybe less to do with being with Raphael as it had to just being with a man. She was a raging bundle of hormones and now she had no one to unleash them on. Even if she'd never gotten far with Raphael, she would still fantasise about him and that used to get her by. Unfortunately, after the events of two days ago, the same thoughts made her sick instead.
Who would star in her romantic hypothetical situations now?
"Oh dear," Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me I have to go over this again? Your name is not Crazy Fray, it's Clary. Raphael is the crazy one."
"It's fine," Clary shook her head. "I'm over it."
Of course, she wouldn't tell Tessa the real reason why she felt like she was going insane. Her overly modest best friend would never understand Clary's less than modest desires.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I have you, don't I? Who else do I need?"
"Quite right," Tessa nodded. "Speaking of, do you want me to bring you any groceries on the way back from the bookstore?"
"No, it's okay. I've still got some pizza left over. Might as well enjoy it."
"Alright then, I'll see you tonight." Tessa grabbed her bag and made her way to the front door. She hadn't missed a shift at Luke's bookstore since the day she got the job and she didn't plan on starting now, heartbreak or no heartbreak. "Please don't burn the place down or anything while I'm gone."
"I'll try not to!" Clary grinned. "No candles unless I decide to summon a demon or something."
"Even then, I'd prefer it if you used torches instead. I'm sure hell's minions would understand the sentiment."
"Wow. Of the two things I just suggested, who'd think that the demon would be the least of your problems?"
"Demons I can deal with. My uncle, I cannot."
"Fair enough," Clary shrugged, walking over to the living room. "Say hello to Luke for me!"
"Will do!" Tessa said before shutting the door.
Clary flopped herself down on the sofa as soon as she heard the lock click into place. She lay back and closed her eyes, finally alone with her feelings.
Neither her nor Tessa had wanted to be alone since the catastrophic 14th, so they'd spent the last couple of nights camping out in the living room, watching an endless run of movies and eating junk food. She was initially scared to be left alone, but now she found herself relishing the peace and quiet. The best way for Tessa to deal with things was to throw herself into the world of books, so it went without saying that she'd be working the shift at Luke's today, but Clary had decided to give it a miss. She preferred to throw herself into doing absolutely nothing. That way she could just let the thoughts run through her brain unimpeded until she grew bored of them.
Clary could only spend so long thinking about the same thing.
In fact, she was beginning to forget about Raphael faster than she'd imagined.
She glanced at her watch, wondering if she could still make it into work on time and join Tessa for the day, but then decided against it when she realised she was still in her pyjamas. Too much effort.
Luke's bookstore was where Clary and Tessa had originally met.
Having just joined university to study Art last September, Clary hadn't managed her finances too well so after blowing through the majority of her budget in Fresher's week, she'd needed to find a job pretty quickly. Despite wanting to finally be self-sufficient, she decided she was too desperate to worry about her pride so she'd asked her father to speak to Luke Garroway – his best friend from his own uni days – and he'd let her work at his bookstore. Tessa had already been working there for a year so she'd helped Clary out and the two of them had become fast friends.
It had only been four months ago, but Clary already felt like she'd known Tessa her whole life. They had two academic years between them, but since Tessa was one of the youngest in her year and Clary was one of the oldest, they'd barely noticed the difference. And besides, even if Clary were the one who was twenty and Tessa were nineteen instead, she'd still probably be the more immature one.
So that's why when Tessa's previous flatmate Sophie moved out over Christmas to live with her boyfriend, Gideon, Clary was Tessa's first choice to live with. The landlord – Tessa's own uncle, Hodge Starkweather – hadn't been pleased about it at first. On Aloysius' request he had to make sure that whoever Tessa lived with was a suitable candidate, and he'd complained that he hadn't had enough time to interrogate Clary, but Tessa went straight to her great-grandfather instead and managed to persuade him to talk Hodge over. The only condition was that at any sign of trouble, Clary would have to move out. That was partly why Tessa was so adamant that they had to behave themselves and stick to all the rules of the flat, for fear of her uncle finding out.
But only about ten percent.
The rest was all Tessa.
Clary was still living in halls at the time, but as soon as Tessa offered, she had no doubt that she'd rather move out of student accommodation and live with her instead. It was the final step to becoming the independent woman she wanted to be.
Besides, living in the same dorm as your best friends from school was no longer fun when the two of them started dating.
Clary was initially over the moon when she found out Isabelle had been given the room next to her in halls and that Simon was just down the corridor, but as soon as the two of them got together, having just a wall between them was the last thing she wanted. There were some things you could never un-hear.
Clary shuddered at the memory, once again thankful for the silence of the flat.
She could be safe in the knowledge that living with someone like Tessa, she'd never have that problem again. Tessa was more puritanical than her own grandmother.
"You're not pushing hard enough!"
Clary froze as a distinctly male voice suddenly sounded through the floor. It was coming from below her.
"I am! You're just not holding it at the right angle."
A different voice. This was one was almost familiar, but still deep.
"What's the right angle? The only angle you need to work with is up."
"You're not holding it high enough. It doesn't matter how hard I push it if I can't even fit it in."
She bolted upright, clutching her hands over her ears. She'd moved here to escape from listening in to situations exactly like this and now here it was, all over again.
"PUSH!" The yell was so loud she could hear it through her fingers.
Alec and Magnus. It had to be. But they lived two floors below her. She knew the walls were paper thin, but they shouldn't be this audible.
Their flat wasn't part of the normal towering grey blocks you'd associate with London living. They actually lived in what used to be an old Victorian house that had been turned into four smaller apartments. Tessa and Clary had the top floor, as well as the converted attic, which was now Tessa's bedroom. Below them lived an elderly pair of sisters, though Clary didn't actually know their names. Tessa just nicknamed them the 'Dark Sisters' for reasons unknown to her. Then it was Alec and Magnus who had the bottom floor along with rights to the garden, and a man called De Quincey had the basement flat, though people hardly ever saw him.
So with Isabelle's brother and his boyfriend two flights of stairs below them, Clary didn't imagine she'd have to put up with any noise issues. But as the shouting started up again, she realised she was miserably wrong.
"HARDER!"
"IT'S STUCK, OKAY!? THIS IS AS FAR AS I CAN GO!"
"Ugh!" Clary groaned, jumping off the sofa. She was not about to let this ruin her day of reflection. "Damn Lightwoods. Why can't they just learn to keep it down?"
She walked over to the front door and cracked it open slowly.
"Okay, let me try something different," the first person said again. "Hold on."
"What else do you think I'm doing?" The other one moaned. Again, that voice was somehow recognisable, but it didn't sound like Alec or Magnus.
"Just give me a second."
"I don't have a second! Do you have any idea how heavy this is, Jace?"
Jace.
Who was Jace?
Clary's eyes widened. Had someone broken into the house?
"You know what, I'm just going to let go."
Clary tiptoed her way to the edge of their little landing and glanced down the flight of stairs that led to the Dark Sisters' floor.
"Damn," she whispered, realising she was too short to lean over far enough to see their door. She could see part of the hallway but nothing more than that.
"Are you crazy!? From this high up it'll probably go straight through the floor. Just hold on."
"I'm aching all over, Jace!"
"Oh, quit being such a girl!"
Clary gasped in indignation and began to move towards the staircase.
"That's it, I'm putting it down."
"But we're almost there!"
"Stop trying to act all tough, man, you're literally dripping with sweat. Let's take a short break and then we can get back to it."
"We're almost there, we can't stop now!"
"We can and we're going to. Put it down on three. You ready?"
Clary carried on listening as she knelt down just above the first step. She heard the second man count to three and then the two of them grunted with effort, before there was a thump as something hit the ground. Hanging onto one of the banister railings, she began to lower herself down until she could peek through the next set of stairs. She was almost parallel to the stairs before she could make out anything.
The door to the Dark Sisters' flat was wide open, but stuck halfway through it at an awkward angle was a bright blue sofa. And next to that, leaning against the wall with his back to her, was a man.
She tried to hold back a cry.
They were being robbed!
She didn't even think it could get any worse than what she'd imagined at first.
Crap!
In her surprise she'd let go of the railing and now she was facing downwards, her hands braced on the step below her head.
Clary began to panic.
She was lying awkwardly on the steps, just feet away from one of the burglars and had nothing to defend herself with. The one he was talking to wasn't in sight.
Relax, she told herself. Just get back up to the flat and call the police.
He hadn't seen her yet, so as long as she was quiet, she should've been able to make it back to her door without him noticing. Ever so slowly, she shifted her weight to the palms of her hands and started to push herself back up the stairs. She looked ridiculous and in any other situation she probably would've laughed at her predicament, but at the moment she couldn't think of anything but the fear of getting caught.
The man was still leaning against the wall, but his laboured breathing was slowly returning to normal.
"Jace?" He lifted his head. Clary stopped moving. "Grab me a glass of water, will you? I can't get past this thing."
Then before she'd had a chance to scramble back up, he turned around and attempted to sit on the end of the sofa, landing her straight in his line of vision.
His mouth dropped open at the same time hers did.
"Jonathan?!"
"Clary?!"
"Jon-aaaaahh!" Clary cried out as her hands lost their grip once again and she slid down the rest of the staircase, landing in an ungraceful heap at the bottom. At least Hodge had decided to re-carpet the place over Christmas. "Ouch."
"Clary!" Her brother jumped to his feet and stood over her, holding out his hand. "Are you okay?"
"Define okay," she groaned, letting him haul her to her feet.
Then, almost as if he'd somehow electrocuted her, she leaped out of his reach.
"Clary, what's wrong?" He furrowed his eyebrows, the green of his eyes barely visible behind his light blonde hair. He held his hand out again, causing her to jump back another step.
"Get away from me you…you…felon."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"Ugh," she wiped her hands on her pyjama bottoms. "I can't believe I just touched a criminal."
"Did you hit your head on the way down?" He tried to take a step towards her but she just batted her hands at him furiously.
"Did you?" She retorted, her own emerald eyes blazing. It was the only feature both of the siblings shared.
"I didn't fall down the stairs…"
"I was referring to your fall from righteousness!" She huffed, pacing about the small landing. "What happened to you? Mum and Dad always gave you everything you wanted. They raised you to be a good, lawful man. And this is how you repay them?"
"Is this about Sebastian?" He asked, definitely confused now. "Because you know he went…"
"If you wanted a sofa why didn't you just ask Dad? I'm sure he would have been more than happy to accommodate your sitting needs. The Dark Sisters are in their eighties for goodness' sake! The last thing they need is to come back to an empty house."
Jonathan stayed quiet as Clary continued to rant at him. He was certain he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Did she have a concussion? Did he need to call an ambulance?
"Or if you were that desperate," she carried on, poking him in the chest. "Why didn't you pick Magnus' place? There'd be less stairs to climb and he redecorates every month anyway. He might even have thanked you for getting rid of his tatty sofa. Alec has some sort of emotional attachment to it so it's the only thing he's never been able to change. But no," she began to tear up. This is what happened when people interrupted her days of reflection. Her emotions were still all over the place and she hadn't had enough time to get them in order. "I have to be stuck with the student-sacrificing, sofa-stealing, pensioner…perturbing brother."
"That was quite a lot of alliteration," Jonathan commented.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" She wiped at her eyes.
"Well, what else do you want me to say? I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."
"Oh really? So do you seriously expect me to believe I haven't just walked in on some sort of heist, albeit a rather slow-paced one?"
"What?" He looked just as blank as he had a second before.
"The sofa!" She cried, exasperated. "Why are you robbing the Dark Sisters?"
"Who?"
"The women who live in that flat!" Clary pointed at the door.
"The flat is haunted?" His eyes bugged wide.
"No! They may look like death incarnate but they're very much alive. Look, if you don't give me a reason in the next minute I'm going to call the police. I don't care if you're my brother. This is my duty as a law-abiding citizen."
"Clarissa, that's my sofa," he said slowly.
"Yeah, because you just stole it," she replied just as slowly.
"Only if stealing counts as exchanging it for money at DFS. They had a sale going. As always."
"What are you talking about?"
"That's my sofa," he pointed at the blue obstruction. "And that's my flat." Then he pointed at the room beyond it.
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"No, it's not."
"Clary, I literally just signed the contract. It's mine."
"No, it's not," Clary shook her head violently. It couldn't be true. The world wasn't this cruel. "Look, if you just take the sofa and get out of here I'll pretend I didn't see a thing."
"Clary, this is where I live."
"But you can't!" She yelled, running her hands down her face. Why did bad things happen to amazing people? "I just got away from you! This is where I live!"
"In my flat? Mum didn't mention anything about having to look aft…"
"No, upstairs, you idiot!" She gestured to the flight of stairs she'd just fallen down. "I live on the top floor."
"What!?" Now he was mad. "No, that's not fair! You're meant to be in halls. Why aren't you in halls?"
"I moved out! And forget about that, I'm at least in the right city. Why aren't you in Bristol?"
"I err…" He avoided her gaze. "I'm taking a gap year."
"In the middle of your course?! Jon, you only had one year left!"
"Yeah, well something better came along. It's just a short break, that's all. I'm deferring the year and then I'll go back and finish my degree afterwards."
"Do Mum and Dad know?"
"Yes and no."
"Yes and no, what?"
"Mum knows, Dad doesn't. But she's cool with it, okay? So as long as you don't tell him…"
"And why would I do that? I don't want you here!"
"And do you think I want you here? If my friends find out I've moved in right below my little sister they'll never take me seriously." In response to that, he moved her so she was out of view of the door. "Look, here's what I propose. If you promise to stay quiet about this, I'll do the same. Isn't that best for you anyway? Do you really want people to know you practically live with your brother?"
"That's the issue," she huffed. "I don't want…"
"Neither do I! If I had any idea you had the top floor, do you really think I would have picked this flat? Just don't tell anyone who I am, and in return, I won't tell anyone you're my sister. We can go about our lives as normal and nothing has to change. How does that sound?"
"You won't tell anyone? Not even your flatmates?"
"Especially not my flatmates."
Clary was exhausted. If she had any doubt before that the whole universe was conspiring to cockblock her, it was well and truly gone now.
Ah, well, she thought. She had to stay single for the next month anyway. If she couldn't manage it based on her own willpower, her brother's reputation would deal with it for her. And if by some miracle no one found out who he was, at least she'd still stand a shot at a decent relationship after Valentine's.
Basically, she had nothing more to lose.
"Alright, Big Bother." She grinned at her pun. "You've got yourself a deal."
-o-O-o-
"Just take it off already!"
"Pardon?" Tessa looked up from the pile of books she'd been sorting out. Jessamine Lovelace sat at the till, a magazine propped open on her lap.
"That stupid necklace." Jessamine gestured towards the green pendant that lay against Tessa's neck. "Playing with it isn't going to bring him back."
Jem had given it to her on their two-month anniversary. The day he'd first kissed her. Tessa hadn't even realised she'd been holding onto it while she worked. The weight of it felt so familiar to her now that taking it off hadn't occurred to her.
"I know that," she sighed. "It's just hard, that's all. If I take it off it feels like I'm giving up on him."
"Tessa, he gave you up. Jem left. He's not coming back."
"The tour only lasts for a few months. He has to come back eventually."
"And what makes you think he'll go running straight back to you? A lot can happen in a few months, Tessa. He could lose interest in you. He could discover he actually swings the other way. He could even meet someone else. Hell, you could meet someone else."
"I don't want someone else." Tessa knew she was being unreasonable, but it was easy to argue with Jessamine. At home she had to stay strong for Clary. Here, in the practically empty bookstore, she could speak freely.
"Tessa, do you have any idea how many hot men there are out there? Just look at this," she held up the magazine she'd been reading, revealing a page full of various topless males. Tessa blushed and averted her eyes immediately.
"Jessie, please. This is not the place."
"What? No one ever comes here anyway and Luke is in the back. Since I so generously offered to take Clary's shift, the least I deserve is some eye candy. Speaking of…" Jessamine got up off her seat and pressed her face to the shop window. "My goodness, I think we actually have a customer on the way."
"On a Sunday evening?" Tessa perked up. "Are you sure?"
"Well, unless he's going to the bakery, we are the only other place open on this street." Jessamine took her hair out of her bun and let her blonde locks fall around her.
"That's wonderful!"
"It is! Oh please, please let him come here. He's so beautiful it hurts."
"Really?" Tessa raised her eyebrows. 'Beautiful' was a rare term for Jessamine to use when describing the opposite sex. Usually it was 'hot' or 'sexy' or 'delicious.'
"See," Jessamine winked at her. "I knew you were horny deep down."
"No!" Tessa blushed once again. "That's not why…"
"Shh, he's coming in!" She squeaked, jumping back into the chair behind the till. "Pretend to be working."
"But I am working…" Tessa rolled her eyes, placing the last of the books back on the shelves. But despite herself, as the shop bell rung and the man stepped inside, she couldn't help but peek through at him.
And what she saw took her breath away.
-o-O-o-
"Stupid." Clary mumbled, throwing a sweet wrapper from one end of the kitchen into the bin on the other side. It missed by a fraction. She balled up the next one and aimed again. "Annoying." This one bounced off the lid and fell onto the floor. "Life-ruining." The last one landed on the top of the lid, then slid down the side. "Idiot."
Her final wrapper shot straight into the open can.
Clary punched the air.
This is how she'd kept herself entertained for the last couple of hours. Since Tessa had obviously objected to having a dartboard in the house, Clary had to make do with turning various objects into her brother and lobbing things at them. She'd actually enjoyed it so much that she began alternating between having target Jonathans and target Raphaels to throw things at. It was much more fun than sitting in silence and thinking about things. Maybe Tessa was onto something with keeping herself preoccupied.
The only thing that finally interrupted her systematic revenge-taking was her stomach. Clary had finished the rest of the pizza for lunch, so she decided she'd just make herself beans on toast for dinner. It required no effort at all and it made her feel like a proper student.
After putting some beans in the microwave, she placed two slices of bread into the toaster and pressed it down.
She thought she saw the light blink on, but then the bread popped straight back up again. Frowning, she pressed the lever down harder. This time, the light didn't even turn on.
"Oh, come on!" Clary turned the plug on and off, then pushed the lever again. "Why, world, why?" Couldn't she even make herself some toast now?
Irritated, she grabbed the beans from the microwave and resolved to just have them with cold bread. To her dismay, she found that the beans were still cold too.
"Crap," she muttered, noticing that it wasn't just the toaster that wasn't working. The microwave light had flickered off too. "Please…" She flung the fridge door open.
Darkness.
"No!" Clary ran over to the light switches and sighed in frustration as they wouldn't turn on either. They'd had a power cut.
Tessa had told her not to burn the place down with candles. Instead, Clary had done practically the opposite. To top it all off, the short winter day was coming to an end, and the room was slowly darkening. Before long, she wouldn't be able to see a thing.
"Tessa's going to kill me." Clary slumped down on one of the dining table chairs and placed her head in her hands. Since she'd only been living here for a couple of weeks, she had no idea where the fuse box was. Tessa had probably told her at some point. She went over all of the emergency procedures in great detail on the night Clary moved in, but she'd stopped paying attention as soon as the word 'manual' came up. If Tessa came home before the electricity was fixed, she'd know for sure that Clary hadn't listened to her.
"Think, Fray. Think." She couldn't even look it up on the Internet since the WiFi had cut out too. Her phone was dead so that ruled out calling Simon. Clary looked about herself and managed to find a torch in the kitchen drawer. Perhaps she could convince Tessa that she had decided to summon a demon after all? Tessa wouldn't notice the lack of electricity in the morning since the kettle sometimes conked out anyway, so that would buy Clary a whole extra day to figure out a solution.
There's someone else you could ask.
Clary shut the thought down before she could get too carried away.
No, she would not go running to her big brother. If he was going to respect her privacy, he had to think that she was worth respecting. Bugging him once he'd only just moved in wouldn't do anything to prove she was finally independent.
But…
Clary sat up.
Her brother wasn't the only person in the building.
She grabbed the house keys and pulled her slippers on. Eyeing the flat below warily, she walked straight past it and went down the second flight of stairs.
"Alec!" She knocked on the door of Flat Two. "Magnus?" No answer.
Surely they had to be home by now?
That's when she noticed the post-it note taped to the front door. It read:
Out celebrating our second anniversary. If you need anything, come back in the morning. (Not before 11am. We'll be very busy before 11am.)
Lots of love,
M & A
xxxx
"Why is everyone in love?" She cried, her head resting on the door. She had only three options left.
The first, to go with the demon story and hope Tessa thought she was weird enough to buy it.
The second, to go down to the basement flat and ask De Quincey for help.
She shuddered. Nope, that was out of the question.
So she was left with the third.
Dragging her feet up the stairs, she came to a stop outside Jonathan's door. The sofa was nowhere to be seen so they must have managed to get it in somehow.
"Here goes my pride," she whispered, knocking on the door. If it were between facing Tessa's wrath or looking helpless in front of Jonathan, she'd rather have the latter. She was almost relieved when there was no answer, but then she heard shuffling from within.
Seconds later, the door opened and Clary found herself face to face with a chest. It was a very nice chest: tanned and muscled and glistening with sweat, but it was also very naked.
She forced her gaze upward and found an incredibly attractive blonde looking down at her, an amused smirk on his face.
"You're not Jonathan."
-o-O-o-
Jessamine's mouth hung open as the black-haired man nodded at her and walked past. Tessa's jaw had also hit the floor, but it was for a completely different reason.
Across his white t-shirt, in large red print were the words 'Suck my Dickens.'
She was absolutely appalled.
To reduce her favourite author to a component in such a distasteful statement was one of the most insulting things anyone could have done. The man hadn't even a spoken a word to her and yet she already despised him.
She was truly ashamed of her generation. No one appreciated or valued those who had been the pillars of English literature. No one even appreciated decent prose anymore. Instead they were all obsessed with innuendos and so-called puns.
She hastily rearranged her features into an expression of cool indifference as he strode past, browsing the shelf behind her.
"Theresa, darling!" Jessamine called, speaking with an accent that was definitely more posh than usual. "Could you assist me for a moment, please?"
"Sure," Tessa said, trying to keep her tone even. Once they were out of the boy's sight, they began whispering to each other. "What do you want? And what's going on with your voice?"
"Take the till. I want to work the floor."
"But I worked the till all morning," Tessa protested. "And that's your favourite job."
Jessamine hated having to sort through the piles of books they were occasionally donated and generally despised restocking the shelves. She much preferred sitting at the till so she'd have the excuse of being busy while just reading a magazine or being on her phone the whole time.
"I thought you might want to sit down for a bit."
"I'm fine," Tessa shook her head. "I don't need a break yet."
"Alright," Jessamine groaned. "I want to talk to the guy, okay? I mean, have you seen his face?"
"Can't say I paid much attention to it," Tessa shrugged. That was true enough. She'd been so incensed by his t-shirt that she hadn't even bothered to get a good look at him. But now she was curious again, so she glanced back to where he was flipping through a book.
Unfortunately, Jessamine was right.
He was beautiful.
His hair was raven black and curled at the edges, and when he looked up, Tessa was faced with the most interesting eyes she'd ever seen. They were a deep, intense blue and stood in stark contrast to the darkness of his hair and his pale skin.
And his face.
She understood now why Jessamine had used that word in the first place. Beautiful. There really was no other way to describe it. If he hadn't been wearing that darned shirt, Tessa would've found it nigh on impossible not to smile at him.
But there it was again. That shirt with its offending words glaring straight at her.
And now, so was he.
"Sorry to bother you," he said, his voice husky and pleasant. "But do you mind helping me look for something?"
Tessa edged towards the till.
"Of course!" The voice was too deep to be Jessamine's. Luke had come back from the storage room. "Tessa, help the young man out."
"Erm…" She stuttered, sneaking a look at Jessamine. She looked devastated. "Yeah, of course."
"Brilliant," the man smiled, his face lighting up. Tessa struggled to keep her own composed as she walked up to him. He was tall. Very tall. At five foot nine, Tessa towered over most girls and some men as well, but for once she felt normal. He had to be at least six-three.
Luke nodded at her in encouragement as she passed him and for the first time, she found herself wishing she'd just stayed at home instead.
"How can I help you, Sir?" Tessa kept her voice calm and polite. Behind her, Luke and Jessamine were arguing in hushed whispers.
"Oh, don't call me 'sir,'" he shuddered. "It makes me feel ancient. Just Will."
"Okay," she said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She wasn't used to having such conversational customers. Most people walked in and out without a word. "How can I help you?"
She couldn't bring herself to say his name. It felt far too unprofessional.
"I need a recommendation for a book. You see, there's this character called Ren and she loves to read, but my brother always tells me that I have a rather…how shall I put it?" He bit his lip, momentarily distracting Tessa. "Unusual. Yes, unusual taste in books. He tells me that a normal teenage girl wouldn't like the kinds of books I like, so I need you, a normal teenage girl – at least, I hope you are – to tell me what Ren might like."
Tessa was speechless. She had no idea what he was going on about.
"I can't help you," she said, instead. "Sorry."
"Oh, I didn't mean to insinuate you conformed to some sort of societal norm," he corrected himself. "I just need to know what teenage girls like."
"I still can't help you."
"You're not a girl?" He narrowed his eyes.
"I'm not a teenager," she said, very curt. "I'm twenty."
"That's close enough. You're still a girl though, right?"
"Yes, but…"
"So you can help me," he grinned. She found it infuriating.
"I can't. I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're saying."
"Right, my bad." Will held his hands up. "I get carried away sometimes and don't explain things properly. Allow me to start again. I'm a writer." Tessa's eyes widened at this. That was definitely not what she'd been expecting. "And there's a character in my book called Ren. She's in her last year of school, a bit hare-brained but otherwise your fairly stereotypical teenager. Though, I guess hare-brained is about right for that too," he chuckled to himself. "I looked up some popular franchises on the Internet, but I want her to be unique. Just not too unique. So I figured, since you work at a bookstore, you might know a book series she could be interested in?"
"I…" Tessa stopped herself. She hadn't wanted to help him before, simply because she disapproved of him, but now she realised that she really couldn't help him. Her own taste in books was about as far from a 'normal teenage girl' as you could get. If Ren was an aging pensioner, then she might have been able to help. The only current series she knew about were the ones Clary was making her read this morning and she knew they were very popular. She'd sound like a fool for even mentioning them. "I'm sorry, I really can't help you."
He didn't look convinced.
"Right. Theresa, was it?"
"Just Tessa," she snapped, disliking him using her name as if they were somehow familiar. Then she realised her mistake. Telling him her preferred name was Tessa really was treating him as if they were familiar. She cursed herself internally.
"Alright, Just Tessa. I can see I've upset you somehow."
"Don't be ridiculous," she rolled her eyes.
"Are you still upset about the 'normal' thing?"
"What?! No, of course not."
"The age thing, then?" He cocked his head to the side. "I apologise for thinking you were a teenager. But in all fairness, twenty isn't exactly miles off the mark."
"It's not the age thing," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Then what is it?"
"The t-shirt!" Tessa huffed, not able to hold it in any longer. "I absolutely despise your t-shirt!"
"Oh." Will looked down at himself, pulling at it. "Have you had a traumatic experience with cotton in the past?"
"What? No, it's what's written on the shirt!"
"Suck my Dickens?" He laughed. "My brother got it for me for Christmas. Thought it would be funny since I'm a writer and all." Will rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, I got all the decent genes in the family. He's mediocre-looking and entertaining at best."
"It's not funny at all!" She gasped, eyes wide.
"Come on, give the boy a little credit. It is vaguely amusing. Not up to the standards of my superior wit, but he tried."
"Well, I find it incredibly insulting!"
"Wait, you're serious?" Now Will's eyes widened.
"Deadly serious! I think it's demeaning and offensive and amounts to the defamation of one of the most important writers to have ever been born in this country." Tessa knew she probably should have kept calm, but she couldn't help herself. Not when it came to books.
"Dickens, really?" Will raised an eyebrow. "I personally think he's a bit of a bore."
"A bore?" Tessa breathed, her heart stuttering to a halt.
"Yeah," he nodded, seemingly oblivious of her ever-growing outrage. "Take Great Expectations, for example. Who would honestly think Rochester would be a good setting for a book? I mean, have you been to Rochester? Then there's Bleak House. I think that speaks for itself. And don't even get me started on A Tale Of Two Cities."
"That's it!" Tessa stepped back, pointing to the door. Insinuating something negative about her favourite book was where she drew the line. "Out."
"Excuse me?" He was still smiling.
"I will not have the great Charles John Huffam Dickens mocked by some thoughtless, arrogant and completely dim-witted…fool. We reserve the right to refuse custom to anyone and I am taking it!"
To her surprise and complete horror, Will burst out laughing.
"Huffam?! His middle name is Huffam?"
Tessa let out an unintelligible battle cry and grabbing Will by his wrist, she dragged him to the shop entrance and then in front of a completely bewildered Jessamine and Luke, pushed him out onto the pavement. As she slammed the door on him and stomped to the back of the store, she could still hear his hoots of laughter.
-o-O-o-
"Yes, I am," the blonde said, his smirk becoming more pronounced.
"No, you're really not," Clary insisted. Unless her brother had suddenly become ten times better looking and tanned significantly, this wasn't Jonathan. This imposter Jonathan's hair was also a darker shade of blonde than it was supposed to be.
"Yes, I really am." He held out his hand for her to shake. "Jonathan Herondale. Nice to meet you."
"Oh!" She let his much larger hand engulf her own. That made more sense.
"But people just call me Jace."
So he'd been the other one grappling with the sofa. It's not surprising that Jonathan was struggling more than he was to lift it. She hadn't seen someone with as chiselled a body as Jace's in…well, forever. Not in real life, anyway.
"And you are?"
"Clary," she finally replied, realising she'd been staring at his torso again. At least he was wearing pyjama bottoms.
Just like her.
Clary mentally slapped herself as she recalled she was still wearing the same pyjamas she'd had on all weekend. They were holey and very thin, but at least they covered up more than his did.
"And how can I help you, Clary?"
She bit her lip, loving the way that sounded. When Raphael spoke to her, he usually called her Clarissa and rolled the 'r.' She thought she'd never prefer her name pronounced any other way, until now. Jace said it as if her entire name was rolling off his tongue. She liked it. Too much.
"Well…"
"And how do you know my name, by the way? Or were you looking for…"
"You!" She finished, realising this was better than having to ask Jonathan. "I was looking for you, you're just not how I thought you would be."
"How did you think I would be?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and folded his arms across his chest.
"Less tan," she admitted. "I mean, this is England. Land of clouds and rain."
"True," he laughed. It rumbled in his chest. "I went to visit my cousins in LA over the Christmas. I'm not super pale anyway, but that helped."
"Right, yeah," she bobbed her head, her eyes drifting from his face once again.
"You didn't answer my question, though. How did you know who I was?"
"The landlord!" Clary exclaimed, thinking off the top of her head. She assumed Hodge owned the whole house.
"Ah," Jace nodded.
"Yeah," she continued, encouraged by the fact he hadn't questioned that. "He told us new tenants were moving in so I thought I'd say hi."
"I appreciate that," Jace smiled. "Do you want to come in?"
"Oh no, I should probably get back…"
"Of course, sorry. Well, I'll see you around sometime." He began to shut the door.
"Definitely, yeah," Clary smiled back, then realised what she'd forgotten to ask. "Wait!"
"Yes?" Jace poked his head out the door.
"Ermm…there was something else."
"Mmhmm?"
"Do you know err…electricity?"
"Not personally," he shrugged. "But I've had brief encounters. Not very talkative."
Clary giggled despite herself.
"I meant, do you know how to work with electricity?"
"I'm not qualified or anything, no."
"But do you know how to fix a power cut?"
"You had one too, didn't you?" He grinned. At her surprise he added, "Yeah, it was the whole building."
"Oh, thank goodness!" She sighed. She'd been so worried it was something she'd done.
"You just need to flip the switches back in your fuse box."
"Riiiight…"
"You don't know where it is, do you?" He was getting far too much joy out of her predicament. If he wasn't so hot she'd have been very annoyed by now.
"No!" She protested, despite him guessing the truth. "I just couldn't reach it, that's all."
"It's on the ground…"
"Oh." Clary flushed and looked down at her feet. Here was this ridiculously attractive man standing before her and she must have looked like a complete idiot.
"I mean, you're short. But not that short, surely?"
"Hey!" She glared up at him. Better to admit the truth than something as embarrassing as that. "Okay fine, I don't know where it is."
"I'll help you," he winked, then moved past her to stand in the hallway. "Which way?"
"Up," she mumbled, keeping her eyes trained on the ground as she followed him up the stairs.
"Keys." He said, and she dropped her set into his open palm. Letting topless strangers into her dark house wasn't something she would normally have done – Tessa would flip out if she knew about it – but she figured Jace didn't look like an axe-murderer. He was friends with her brother, after all. And though she wouldn't admit it, Clary also felt safer knowing that Jonathan was only a few metres away. Just in case. Jonathan kept weird company sometimes.
He asked her to keep the door open so he could see part of the hallway. Then, he began to feel his way across the wall until his hand hit something solid.
"Got it."
"Hey, you said the fuse box was on the floor!"
"Did I?" Jace feigned innocence, his expression surprised as he looked back at Clary. "My mistake. I meant it's really high up."
Her mouth fell open as he winked at her again, before turning his attention back to the fuse box. He'd been messing with her deliberately. Clary was mad but she was also very, very turned on.
Damn him.
"Your kitchen switch won't go up," he said, snapping her out of the direction her thoughts were taking.
"Huh?"
"The kitchen," he repeated. "Did a fuse blow in your kitchen?"
"I don't think so…"
"Where were you when your power cut out?"
"The kitchen."
He raised his eyebrows at her again, that frustrating knowing look on his face. Clary pursed her lips, realising it may have been her fault after all.
"This one?" He asked, pointing at the kitchen door. She nodded and followed him, leaving a wedge to keep the front door open.
"What were you doing when it happened?"
"Trying to make toast. Wait!" She remembered she'd found a torch just before she'd left to find Alec and Magnus. "Here." She switched it on and pointed it towards where the toaster should have been.
Jace walked over to inspect it and nodded to himself.
"What happens when water meets electricity, Clary?"
"Bad things," she replied, the cogs whirring in her brain.
"That's right," he said, unplugging the toaster and bringing it over to her.
The cord was wet.
"Crap," she groaned. In her haste to mop up the water around Tessa's bread collection when the kettle had leaked this morning, she'd forgotten to clean up around the toaster. So when she'd gone to put it on for dinner, the fuse had obviously blown, cutting out not only her electricity, but that of the whole building. "I'm such an idiot."
All the blood rushed to her face.
"It's okay," Jace shook his head, still smiling. "We all make mistakes." Then he moved past her to flick up the final switch in the fuse box. Bright light flooded the hallway and Clary had to shield her eyes. "See, no harm done."
"Thank you, Jace. Really." Clary smiled sheepishly up at him.
"It's alright. It's a good thing you have someone as brilliant and clever as me living below you now."
She couldn't help but agree.
"Any other emergencies, you know where to find me," he clapped her on the shoulder, before making his way back down the stairs to his own flat. He stopped just before he was out of her sight to turn and grin devilishly at her. "See you around, Clary." Then with one final wink, he was gone.
"See you around," she whispered back.
Oh man, she thought. I am so screwed.
You and Tessa both, dear.
So what did you think?
I hope Jonathan being in the story was a nice surprise for you all. I deliberately hadn't made it clear in the summary that he'd be there and I thought I'd just let you discover him at the same time as Clary. I just love him too much to leave him out of anything I ever write.
Also, how did you guys find the way it was written? I haven't done a dual-perspective story before, so I'd definitely appreciate feedback on that front. Did the transitions between characters make sense? Or is there another way you'd like me to point them out?
Finally, the inspiration! The way that Clary met Jace is literally the same way my flatmates and I first met our new neighbours. We'd had a power cut and we didn't realise why the fuse was playing up, so we had to go and ask for help. And yep, the one who opened the door was topless. He also came upstairs while still topless. But yeah, nothing romantic happened. We all just became good friends. Those two are like our guardian angels and we definitely ask them for help a lot. I thought you might like to know that :)
Again, I haven't set an exact day for updates, but I'm aiming for weekends at the moment so that's your best bet to check. Really hope you liked it and thanks again for reading!
Till the next time...
smim xx