Well, I got a couple of reviews from the one shot, which was originally, and supposed to, stay a one shot. But I guess I get bad, if some of you thought it had potential. But be warned, I am only doing short chapters because I don't have time for long ones. Anyway, enjoy.

2

Clary stepped foot inside her apartment to find Jace was waiting patiently, leaning against the kitchen counter top, a steely look in his eyes. She had the strangest feeling she owed him an apology but for what reason, that escaped her.

He took a step forward, arms crossed against his solid chest. Jace's hair had grown to his shoulders in the past few months and Clary longed to come at him with shears just to have them gone. But unfortunately for her, Jace claimed they made him look "hard".

"You left in a hurry," he said. The way he said it was a tone she hadn't heard in years. Clary edged away and into the living room, throwing her leather jacket on the sofa before taking a seat on her beanbag chair.

"Yeah, sorry," she mumbled. Where had she been? The last thing she remembered was waking up on a double bed, pillows fluffed, light blue duvet over her and feeling comfy, the walls around her a blinding white. She had no memory of how she got there, however. Wait...that wasn't entirely true.

"Where were you?" Jace asked. "I know we fought but...I half hoped you'd at least come back."

Images of a man with white lightning blond hair and sharp features came to mind but they swam away before she could grab at them properly.

"I don't know."

Jace followed further into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa, staring down at her. "You don't know?" he said, repeating her words with horror. "How could you-"

"I just don't, okay? Stop hassling me," Clary wasn't known for keeping her temper. That's one reason why her and Jace were meant to be. They bounced off each other, complimenting their moods.

The next second Jace was there, his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, holding her together before the tears made an appearance. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered against her ear. He kissed her cheek, the feel of his lips a comfort to her.

"I'm sorry," said Clary. "I shouldn't be mad at you. I just...I had a bad night. I must have gone to a club or something."

He looked at her more closely, frown lines appearing on his brow. "What club?"

"I don't know. All I know is I have the worst headache-"

"Clary, you didn't go to Pandemonium, did you? You know after the riots, it's not safe,"

"I'm aware," she said, tight lipped. How she got anywhere was a mystery, since she couldn't remember even leaving the house. But if Clary gave that piece of information away, Jace would be mad.

Clary stretched and climbed out of her bean bag and headed for the hallway and along to her bedroom. Their bedroom. After six months of living together, it was a strange thought.

The bed was made for two. While Clary lay there, her head settled on her favourite pillow, she felt more than saw Jace appear beside her, his arm coming out to rest on her stomach. The feel of his skin was like searing hot lava through her tank top, even though it was minus degrees outside. She turned her head to the side, smiling awkwardly at him.

"You still angry?"

"I was never angry," Jace argued and Clary snorted. "Okay," he said. "Maybe I was a little. I'm just glad you're home safe," He leaned in and kissed her, their lips connecting with everything that made them one.

"Well, wherever you went, you came home tasting of sugar. Man, I love that stuff." He kissed her again, moving one hand behind her neck to pull her closer. The sound of a growl vibrating from him and showing just how much he did like her taste. She sank into the feel of him; his fingers roaming over her hips and under her top.

Clary started to laugh. "Mmm, hey, stop a minute," she managed to say, gasping once their lips parted. They lay there, looking at each other with hope and longing. She'd just noticed Jace had undone her jeans in the process of their make out moment. "Wait,"

"What is it?"

"Was I wearing jeans when I left last night?"

Jace's mouth opened a fraction and then closed. Something in his eyes said she hadn't been but before he could actually answer, Clary was off the bed and searching for her phone. "Damn it," she muttered. "Where is it?"

He was beside her in a flash, helping sort out the mess of clothes on the floor by the wardrobe. "Why had I not noticed?" he seemed to ask himself. "I remember you looked really out of it after we argued. But I guess I assumed all women were like that in my presence." There was a teasing note to his words but all Clary felt was dread in the pit of her stomach. Black eyes haunted her behind her eyelids. They reminded her of someone. Holding her mouth, Clary ditched everything and ran to the bathroom. After throwing up whatever was in her system, she found she could think a little clearer.

Something indeed had come over her the night before and a creepy sensation warmed through her, with a sliver of ice, almost like her body was torn between admiration of this person and repulsion. Yet there was no denying who could be behind this. Black eyes. White hair. The smell of burnt sugar.