Chapter 3 - The Life Force of Clarissa Fray

Author's Notes: I own nothing, save for Dahlia.

"How long has it been since we did this?" Simon's voice, sounding giddy and excited, made me grin, despite the fact that we were sandwiched in between a line of college students, a gril who smelled like a French prostitute from the copious amounts of perfume she wore to a guy behind us who smelled like feet. And, despite all that, and the fact that my inner voice was screaming that I'd need a shower after being in between these two, I was just as giddy as my best friend.

"We last did it the day before you left." I answer him, not even having to really look at the cafe's menu, because my coffee order's been the same since I started drinking it at the age of fifteen. "Minus the virtual ones that don't take the place of the real one we're about to experience. Not that any of the Skype ones were horrible, it just wasn't the same."

He grinned shyly, because it was his idea to do it, and he was so excited when he came up with it, only to have it be a not what he expected in the end of it all. Though we both agreed that it'd be good for those times when absolutely nothing would do us any better than a hot cup of coffee and a Skype call with each other, it happened less often than one would think. "I dunno, I think the Phish Food incident was pretty memorable."

I blinked twice, immediately guessing the incident he was referring to, and then sent him a glare that was colder than the ice cream I dropped that day. On a very...sensitive...area. "I thought we agreed not to mention that. Ever." I rebutted in a hiss, through clenched teeth.

He simply smiled at me innocently, that wide eyed look he was giving me making me want to whack him with a notebook. And I would if I had one. "I wasn't the one who dropped a glob of Ben and Jerry's directly on her-Mmphhmphmph!"

He wasn't able to finish the sentence, thanks to me clamping a hand over his mouth, and laughing forcibly at the looks I was getting at the clap of skin on skin. "I'm so sorry. He forgot his medication, and he has no idea what he's talking about, Please ignore anything he has to say." I was painfully aware that he just started licking my hand, but I wasn't going to move it, no matter how tempting it was to hit him with my purse right now.

He remained silent, though he was glaring at me himself now, both as a glare and just that he missed how freaking stupid we got sometimes. It was odd. Around him, I felt I was free to be myself, and it was something I hadn't really done in the last two years, much less in public. It was like I was trying to make up for all the lost time at once, but I don't think I ever would make up the time I lost with Simon.

But that didn't mean I wouldn't try to.

After removing my hand from his mouth, wiping the drool on his jacket, and then giving him a whack in the stomach with my purse, Simon and I ended up ordering a few minutes after that. One french vanilla latte with extra foam and an Irish coffee. Well, it seemed some things actually did change.

"Since when do you drink those things?" I ask him curiously, as he takes a seat next to me, coffees set on the table in front of our respective seats.

"I started drinking them about a year ago." He told me in response, brow crinkling just a bit. "I never told you?"

"No, I think I'd remember something as drastic as changing your coffee order." I respond with a laugh, grabbing a sugar packet. "I mean, now I'm glad I had you pay, because I would've ordered a mocha for you, and here you went and changed your order without telling me."

"At least I didn't change my Ben & Jerry's without information." He responded back, making me turn to him with wide eyes.

"Who told you that? My mom?" I ask him quickly, and when he didn't answer, I groaned. "I didn't say Midnight Snack was my new favorite, dang it! I said it was good and a close favorite! Phish Food will always be number one! Followed closely by Karamel Sutra! Midnight Snack is probably my third!" He still said nothing, just gave me that look that said 'yeah, okay' without words. It made me whack him again. "At least I didn't change my coffee order without any notice! Your infraction's worse, Simon Lewis! Much worse!"

This time, he managed to catch my outstretched hand, and, quicker than I could manage to ready a second attempt at a smack, he buried the fingers of his free hand in my tummy, reducing me to hysterical giggles. "Here's what I think about your reasoning, spitfire."

Gah! I hated when he called me that! It made me angrier and only caused me to thrash more as he tickled me. "I'm going to hurt you!" I threatened him, much like I always did when he tickled me. I tried to turn away from him to protect myself, but his height worked to his advantage and he just reached over me, still digging his wriggling fingers into my stomach. The attack made me gasp and look at him helplessly. "Stoooop!"

"I'll stop when you admit we're even." His eyes, though playful, were firm. And he was definitely stronger than what I remembered, because I couldn't break away from him now, whereas I could two years ago. Damn it, he had me trapped, and it was either admit defeat or continue to be tickled. I hated it when he won like this.

"Fine! Fine! You're right! We're even! Stoooop!" I plead with him, gasping a bit. He ended up stopping a few seconds later, laughing a bit as I sat up and fixed my hair with a bit of a huff. I entertained the notion of whacking him again, but the threat of a second tickle attack was just too good. Especially since we already had a group of people staring at us like we were freaks. Or worse, a couple. I was waiting or the dreaded 'How long have you guys been going out?' spheal It was something Simon and I laughed at for years, because we got the question since were joined at the hip for so many years.

"I missed doing that..." I hear him say almost wistfully, hands helping me smooth our my red hair, his face appearing in front of mine to help him make me look somewhat like I did before his assault. I notice his eyes linger a bit on me before he pulls back, though I think nothing of it. After all, we've only gone two years without seeing one another except over a video camera. It makes sense our eyes would linger a bit on each other, see if anything's changed, or anything's new.

"Can I ask why you were screaming like he was murdering you?" As one, Simon and I turn toward the voice, my roommate Dahlia taking a seat across from the both of us, her own mug in front of her. She flips chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, her dark green eyes on the both of us with interest.

"He tickled me." I answer her question simply, looking over at him like I just said he was preparing a ritual to sacrifice my firstborn.

"Briefly!" He defended himself easily, eyes only on me and my continual dose of stink-eye.

"Hey, if it makes her scream like that, it might as well be murder." Dahlia informed him, taking a sip of her own steaming beverage innocently, making his eyes turn to her.

"But, I...she knows I'm only..." He managed to stutter out, trying to think of some way to defend himself, only to hang his head a bit in defeat.

"Clary Fray." I said to her happily, holding out a hand over the table. If there was someone who'd help me keep Jace away, as well as double team Simon, I'd welcome the pure fun that would bring. Even better is that she was my roommate!

"Dahlia Hissam." She replied, accepting the outstretched hand with a smile of her own, before her eyes went back to Simon.

"This one's Simon Lewis, who's all embarrassed and flustered because you double teamed him and we ganged up on him." I told her honestly, ruffling the black curls on top of his head. This time, he gave me the glare, and it was my turn to smile innocently. He hated it when I did that. "Hey, you tickled me in public. I get three hair ruffles in there today!"

"Two!" He shot back, not breaking eye contact with me.

"And a purse smack!" I haggled him. "Take it or leave it!"

He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, picking the lesser of two evils. "Fine." He kept his face impartial as I celebrated quietly, taking a sip of my own coffee, before turning to face my roommate.

"I take it you two are a complete package deal?" She intoned dryly, an eyebrow raised at the both of us. She didn't sound annoyed, if anything she sounded amused.

"Pretty much." I replied on both of our behalves.

"Well, I'm fine with that. Just keep pretty boy away from me, and we'll be all squared away." She told us both, leaning back to cross a leg over the other at the knee, revealing a pair of flip flops and toenails painted sky blue with ice cream cones on them.

"Don't worry about that. She and I avoid him like the plague." Simon spoke up. "The only way we'll actively go near him is if we have to for class. Or if he seeks us out and there's no way we can get away from him."

Dahlia raised her other eyebrow. "Would he?"

I shrugged in response. "He's done it before." I tell her honestly, trying not to dwell on just how many times Jace has actually done it to me. There were times Simon never even knew about.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay away from you now." Simon muttered, venom coating each word. "You're not alone anymore. And if he pushes too far, I don't care how much he'll hurt me for it, I'll punch him in the face."

"Only if I can get a shot between his legs in first." Dahlia spoke up, eyes on Simon, a wicked little smile on her face.

He grinned in response. "Why don't we kick him at the same time?"

As they both went off on a bit of a let's-see-how-much-harm-we-can-bring-him game, it left me alone with my thoughts, and my coffee, of course. Dahlia seemed like a nice person, and I hadn't really encountered too many people like her, ones willing to stand up to Jace alongside me. She was a little taller than me, though shorter than Simon, and dressed in a simple peach spaghetti tanktop, and a knee length sky blue skirt. Her flip flops matched her skirt, and I've already seen her toenails. I'm just glad she wasn't put off by Simon, who was a full on nerd, tall and thin, with glasses to boot. Today he was in a pair of Converse, black jeans, and a red shirt that said simply 'Never trust an atom. They make everything up.' Which is just the kind of thing he'd wear on a normal basis, because the majority of his shirts had something goofy printed on them. Mainly aimed at trying to make me feel better after rough day with Jace.

"Clarissa!"

I was snapped out of my thoughts by my full name, and my purse flew like it had a mind of it's own, connecting with Simon's chest before I even realized what was happening. I heard him groan, and his hand came rub to rub the spot where he was hit.

"What?!" I asked him, a little bit snippily. I hated my full name, even more than his nickname (Spitfire) for me, hence why I had everyone call me Clary.

Across the table Dahlia was laughing, both at my reaction, and at his semi-helpless look while he rubbed his chest. "Damn, you weren't kidding. She really DOES hate her full name!"

"I told you she'll hit you before you can blink!" Simon protested with a groan. "Did you think I was lying?"

"Not entirely, but I wanted to see if there was any hope of getting away if I accidentally let it slip." Dahlia told him honestly, still laughing. She took a drink of her coffee to help her calm herself down a bit, and I followed her lead.

"There is no hope." I warned her, speaking up since I heard Simon call me that...wondering just how much of the conversation I zoned and missed out on during my sojourn into my own mind. "One way or another, I'll have my revenge, I promise you that."

"Well, then, don't call me Dollface." Dahlia told us both frankly, looking between the two of us. "I'll kill you in your sleep if you do." She looked to Simon, as if he had an embarrassing nickname to threaten us with.

He shrugged, stirring his coffee a bit. "Simon says jokes." He tells us both simply. I knew this already, having uttered one years ago. He tickled me until I cried, and I've never said it once since. "I hate them, and I'll unleash a jar of insects into the room if you do."

The look on Dahlia's face said she wasn't sure if she should believe him or not, and he grinned. I, on the other hand, knew he was serious if he didn't find a way to get back at us first. "You'll learn him well enough to know when he's kidding or not. Trust me."

Next to me, Simon raised his glass with a smile, his own way of saying that she would, as well.