You guys are so kickass. 1 chapter. 41 favorites. 84 followers. 44 reviews. Like, how? Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments. I'm just dicking around.

-Clary Fray-

I stumble into the kitchen, following the horrid noise that so rudely tore me away from the beautiful dream I was having about Jim Sturgess. My annoyance disappears, however, when I find Jonathan leaning casually against the counter, without a shirt on. He's only wearing a pair of white gym shorts, and hot damn. Why would he even own shirts with a body like that? There's got to be a law against that, or something. No one will mind if he becomes a nudist.

There's a glass of orange juice in his hand, and he sips at it slowly. He's looking at you, Clary. Stop staring at his abs. My eyes snap up to his, but I can tell by the amused smirk that rests flawlessly on his lips that it's too late. He noticed.

I speak swiftly, fighting back the embarrassment, and bringing up the ugly sound that brought me down here at this ungodly hour. "What am I hearing? Am I having a stroke?" Smooth, Fray.

He cocks his head to the side, and places his glass of orange juice on the counter top. "It's music, Clary. I'm sure you've heard of it before."

I roll my eyes. "This particular music sounds like a seizure waiting to happen."

His smile widens. "You hate dubstep. Duly noted."

I sputter. "That noise has a name? It's an actual thing? I'm actually disgusted." My sarcasm is off the charts. Too much time with Jace.

The toe headed boy laughs, turning the music off on his phone. I make a big show of breathing out a sigh of relief. "How was your first night here?"

"Fine." I answer. "I was having a glorious dream, until someone's horrendous excuse for music woke me up." I make sure to add a smile at the end, so he knows I'm teasing.

Jonathan smiles sheepishly. "It's ten anyways." I roll my eyes. This is an ungodly hour, for winter break. "What was your dream about?"

Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Nothing."

Jon raises one eyebrow at me. Fucking shit. Why can everyone do that but me? "I'm having a hard time believing that. You're blushing."

This causes me to blush even more. "Jim Sturgess." I mutter.

He nods. "He's handsome."

"He's a God." I muse. "I will never forgive you for waking me."

"I'll make it up to you." His voice comes out low, and suggestive. Or maybe I imagined it.

"How?"

"Well, Jocelyn and my father are gone already, and there's nothing other than orange juice and half a stick of butter in the refrigerator. So, if you let me go get dressed, I'll take you somewhere for breakfast."

I pretend to think about it for a second. "I don't know. I really like orange juice and butter."

"The nectar of the Gods." He offers.

I grin. "Ambrosia status."

Jonathan wrinkles his nose. Motherfucker. Why are his nose crinkles so freaking cute? "I hate ambrosia."

"Me too." I admit. "But I like waffles."

"Alright, Taki's has fantastic waffles. Go get dressed, and I'll meet you down here in a few minutes." I watch him disappear through the door, and mentally slap myself for flirting so hard. He's my step brother. Off limits. But he flirted back, I think... No. No. No. He's just being nice. Stop it, Clary.

Jonathan opens the door to his challenger for me, but I get distracted by his biceps and forget to actually get in the car. Being the sly mofo that I am, I play it cool and stumble clumsily into the car. "Thanks." I mumble.

He's staring at me from the drivers seat, but I pretend to be absorbed in putting my seat belt on. Once it's clicked, however, I have no excuse not to look at him, so I do. "I'll let you choose the music, since you obviously hate my music."

"Dubstep is of the Devil." I tease.

Jon smirks. "I'll one day sit on the throne of Hell, in that case." He says as he pulls out of the driveway. I plug the USB cable into my cell phone, and play Escape the Fate. Jon glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm glad to see that you don't hate all good music."

I shake my head. "I don't hate any good music." The conversation stops there, and we don't speak again until we've been seated in a booth in the corner of a place Jonathan called Taki's.

"What can I get for you, today?" Asks a tall, thin blonde, with clear blue eyes. She has a far away look, like she doesn't really care. But I see her expression brighten when she looks at Jonathan. Instantly, I hate her.

He hardly acknowledges her, as he flips through the menu. "I would like..." He turns the page again. "The stuffed French toast. Without those nuts they usually put on them."

The girls name tag reads 'Kaelie' which is a really stupid spelling of Kaylee, I think. "Hash browns or home fries?" She asks, sweetly.

"Home fries. And bacon." He answers, before she can ask 'sausage or bacon'.

Her expression falls back to the casual, unreadable look it was before, when she turns to me. "Waffles." I say. "With strawberries."

Kaelie flips her notepad closed, and walks away with grace in her step. I'm instantly jealous of her sharp beauty, and the sway of her hips. 'She's pretty." I mutter.

Jonathan spares a glance, for the first time, in her direction. "Yeah, I guess. If you're into that sort of thing." I don't ask what he means by that, but it makes me feel a littler better that he's not into that sort of thing. Whatever sort of thing that is. "So, Clary." He says abruptly. "Tell me about yourself."

I blink. "Um... I'm 16, rad as fuck, and I really like drawing." Nailed it. "Tell me about you."

He flashes a half smile. "I'm 17, also rad as fuck, and I really like..." He trails off and looks away.

"What?" I press.

Jonathan shrugs. "I decided not to mention my main hobby."

"Why? I told you mine!"

Jon sighs. "It's not manly. That's what father says."

I frown. Valentine said that? What a cock. "It's okay. I don't think you're very masculine, anyways."

He puts his hand up to his chest, mocking pain. "I am very masculine."

"Tell me your hobby."

He sighs, again. "Promise not to laugh?"

"Promise."

"I write poetry." He confesses.

"Poetry?" I fail to keep the surprise out of my voice. Seriously? That's it? I thought it was going to be knitting or something like that. True to my word, I don't laugh. I'm not even sure why he thought I would. "That's awesome." I add, to make sure he knows I'm not judging him.

"Thank you." He says, appreciatively.

Kaelie comes back with our food after a few more moments of aimless chatter. The waffles are... Heavenly. I could die. These waffles are my soul mate. Dude, I don't mean to get so emotional about this, but there's probably a fandom page dedicated to these very waffles. If not, someone please make one.

"You are so losing this bet, and I'm going to make you do a shit ton of awkward things." I say, smiling victoriously at Jace.

"We'll see." He says, simply. "Let's go see Max, right now."

I roll my eyes, and follow him into the library where Max is curled onto the couch, with his face hidden behind a hard cover copy of The Invention of Murder. Seriously? This kid is 10 years old. How!? I couldn't even bring myself to like that book. After the first few pages, I got bored and gave up. He's almost finished it.

"Hey, Max!" I say. I'm excited to see him, actually. I really freaking love this kid. Could he even be any cooler?

For a moment, he doesn't respond. Then he glances at me, a wide childish grin spreads across his face, and he flings himself off the couch, into my arms, leaving the book behind. "Clary! I missed you!"

I wrap my arms around his thin frame, and rest my cheek against his messy hair. Max is the only person short enough for me to do this with. "I missed you too, Max."

When he pulls away from the hug, I'm dragged over to the couch where he pulls me down next to him. Jace chuckles, and I know what he's thinking. But he's wrong. Max isn't crushing on me, he just missed me. He's basically my little brother.

Jace plops down on the couch beside me. "How was your day, Max?" He asks.

Max smiles, halfheartedly. "I don't like winter break."

"Why?" I ask. What kind of 10 year old doesn't like winter break?

The little boy shrugs. "I get bored. Will you guys play a game with me?"

"What do you want to play?" Asks Jace.

He thinks about it for a second before answering "Magic!" His face breaks out in a wide grin when Jace and I agree.

Half and hour later, my mana base is solid, and my phantom warriors are kicking butt, when my phone vibrates.

Mom: Hey, Sweetie. Are you at Jace's house? We're having dinner in 10 minutes, so come home, please.

I groan. I was about to obliterate everyone with my Kargan Dragon Lord. "I have to go home. My mother has summoned me for dinner."

Max pouts, and Jace frowns. "See you tomorrow?" He asks.

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

"How are you settling in, Clary?" Valentine asks, while violently sawing at a slab of meat with his steak knife.

I shrug. "I think I feel more at home here, than I did in New York."

My mother has never smiled quite so brightly, before. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."

"What did the two of you do today? You're getting along, I assume." Valentine glances at Jonathan down the length of the table.

"We're getting along fine." I assure him.

Jonathan nods. "We went to Taki's for breakfast. Clary got engaged to their waffles."

My mother rolls her eyes, and Valentine chuckles. It's not really a secret that waffles and I are having a love affair. "They're my soul mate!" I defend.

"Jace won't be happy to hear that." My mother mutters.

We meet eyes. Green on green. "Mom. No. Just, no."

"I'm just saying, Clary. The boy is quite taken with you. It's about time someone pointed it out."

I just roll my eyes. "Jace is my best friend. About these waffles, though." I quickly change the subject. "I'm in love. Mr. and Mrs. Strawberry Waffles. It has a nice ring to it."

"Clary Waffles." Jonathan offers.

I grin at him, and dinner just goes on like that. Jonathan and I do most of the talking, making endless jokes, as if we haven't both been forced into this awkward 'family dinner' by our impulsive parents. I'm forced to admit... It's kind of nice, despite how completely out of place it is.

After dinner, Isabelle comes over for some quality Clary/Izzy catching up time. "Where's this hot step brother you mentioned?" We're laying on my bed, with music playing quietly in the background, just talking the way Izzy and I always do.

I shrug. "I think he's downstairs."

She sits up, abruptly. "Can I meet him!?"

"That sounds like it would be a really awkward experience."

"Come on, Clary!" She begs. "We can just casually go down there to get water or something, and you can introduce me. I need to see him! You have never told me a guys is hot before. I want to know what's special about this one."

I sigh for approximately seven years, before answering. "Fine. Just don't embarrass me."

"I would never!" Izzy says, sweetly.

Jonathan is sitting at the table in the kitchen, with a notebook in front of him. He looks up and smiles when we enter the room. I grab two bottles of water from the fridge, because that's my cover story. "Hey, Jonathan." I say.

"Hello, Clary." He stands, and approaches us. Izzy looks at me with wide eyes.

"This is Isabelle." I gesture toward her.

Jonathan shakes her hand, politely. "Nice to meet you."

"It's wonderful to meet you, as well." Izzy says, charmingly. This is the part where I expect him to start flirting with Isabelle, but he doesn't. Instead, he just politely nods his head and goes back to his writing.

Just before I drag Izzy back up the stairs, she says something evil.

"Clary thinks your hot!"

Oh, Izzy... Oh, Max... Oh, waffles...

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-IWriteNaked