Disclaimer: Not Cassandra Clare.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this one is a bit late, I was going to get it up yesterday but I got distracted by my neighbour's new baby so... sorry.

Also, did anyone watch Eurovision? Wasn't it awesome?! The guy from Russia was FLOATING! And I loved Azerbaijan, though the bodysuit was a bit much. But she was hot and could actually sing so it makes up for it. And shout out to Dami Im from Australia. They'll have to take us seriously now! Also, did anyone else think the guy from Israel looked like Magnus' monochromatic-but-nonetheless-glittery, younger brother?

Anyway, this is kind of a filler to be honest. I wanted to get the home life differences between Jace and Clary put down before stuff starts getting real in the next chapter. I also wanted to make the reasons Clary and Jocelyn stay a little clearer.

Anyway, thank you to:

Peachez96, Rwch3l, Liz399, andignorex, emilyfrayherondale, VMars lover, AlanaLubberts, Jules.270907, jojo1005, Rairaisunshine, mv21, pugglemama09 and AshBronze17824 for following,

morgan. , andignorex, Rairaisunshine and pugglemam09 for favouriting,

And Guest, reppinda5o3, citrusunicorn, FigsVsNewton, cheshire15, PoisonousWhiteRose and Justsomebodyelse for reviewing since last chapter! Love you's all, you brilliant little scallywags.

Anyway, I'll let you at it, let me know what you think.

Enjoy, have fun, say hi, REVIEWW!

Jace's POV

I have a theory: All teachers hate children.

There's no scientific proof of this or anything so don't get your hopes up, but I have had a lot of teachers in my time and I have to say that in my experience, all teachers hate children. Or, at least, all teachers hate me. Maybe they struggle to deal with my level of awesomeness.

Anyway, my point is, I'm sitting in the middle of an English lesson and I'm quite sure my teacher, Mrs Branwell hates me and it's totally not my fault. Okay, maybe a little bit but she's totally overreacting.

"Care to explain your reasoning behind that, Mr Lightwood?" She demands haughtily. My cousin, Gabriel, sitting behind me, muffles his amusement behind his hand. "Something amusing to you, Gabriel?"

"Not at all, Mrs Branwell." He replies quickly and I grin before answering the teacher's original question.

"Well, as we know, the English language is the most difficult language for non-English speakers to learn because the moment they think they've learnt a rule, there's suddenly a change to the rule. For example, 'mice' is the plural of mouse; 'geese' is the plural of goose, but there is no plural for 'moose'."

"Your point, Mr Lightwood?" She hints.

"My point is: English is like a woman. The moment you think you've got it sussed out; it changes its mind and knocks you flat on your arse." The class laughs but my English teacher blinks and does not look amused.

"That's enough I think, Mr Lightwood."

I settle deeper into my seat and spend the rest of the class with Mrs Branwell scowling at me and Gabriel pelting tiny balls of paper at my head. He better not have got any in my hair, that's all I've got to say.

By the time I get home, there is a wonderful emanating from the kitchen. I know instantly that it wasn't Isabelle cooking, and I thank sweet baby Jesus that it wasn't Isabelle cooking. Trust me, if you had had her cooking, you'd understand why.

I make my way into the kitchen where I find my baby brother Max and my mum grabbing cookies out of the oven. I grin as I watch Max trying to sneak a few cookies off the tray. A boy after my own heart, that one.

"How was school Jace?" My mother asks, using that uncanny ability of hers to be able to tell where all of her children are at any given time.

"Uneventful. Although I may have to kill Gabriel." I informed her, sitting down at one of the seats behind the kitchen island.

"Well so long as you've got something to do." My mother summarised without batting an eye. This is why I liked my mother: She wasn't fazed by my humour.

"Where are Alec and Isabel?" Max asked excitedly, hopping up and down. Laughing, I reached over and ruffled his hair.

"Careful bro. I might start thinking you don't like me. Which is just ridiculous. They were just behind me. Go find them." Max quickly followed my advice, running into the entrance hall.

"I do like the way you handle him." Mum said, starting to move the cookies onto a cooling tray. "Although you could have stopped him from stealing that cookie."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

I hopped off my chair and grabbed my bag, heading up to my room. Why was homework inflicted on children? It had to be against the Geneva Convention.

Note to self: Research the Geneva Convention.

Clary's POV

When I get home, there is soft piano music playing on the stereo and I can hear my mum laughing in the direction of the kitchen. I breathe a sigh, knowing that for at least tonight, life will be easy. I drop my bag by the stairs and head towards the kitchen.

Mum and Dad are waltzing.

As I lean against the doorframe, I watch my father twirling my mother around the kitchen to the soothing sounds of piano coming out the stereo. I feel melancholic standing there, watching my mother smiling and laughing, looking at my father like he's the only star in the sky, knowing that this is why she stays: no matter what, my mother loves my father.

Why can't it be like this all the time? Why can't our lives be this simple all the time?

Why do Mum and I have to cover up our bruises with too much concealer, pretend not to limp or favour a wrist?

Why can't my life be like everyone else's?

"Whatcha doin'?" Instead of focusing on my bittersweet thoughts- mostly bitter, I'll admit- I grin in the direction of my parents. Dad bends my mother over his arm, Mum giving me a beaming, upside-down smile.

"We thought we'd try and remember our wedding dance." Dad informs me with a teasing grin. I fight back my tears, again wishing it could be like this all the time. "I'm happy to say I have a better memory than your mother."

"Well I should hope so. You're supposed to be leading."

My mother laughs as Dad tips her right way up again. She pats his chest fondly and comes over to give me a hug. There is a conversation about my school day which lasts about thirty seconds before I make my excuses and get out of there.

It's so odd that it is days like this that hurt more- when things could almost be normal if it weren't for the bruises that Mum's makeup and long sleeves covered, the split lip and chipped tooth that even lipstick and her enormous smile couldn't cover; if it weren't for my swollen wrist that aches and throbs and my lungs that couldn't pull in enough oxygen to satisfy me, constricted by my bruised ribs.

But it does hurt. It hurts so much because, on the good days, I see what we could be. We could be happy, we could have an easy life full of love and affection and laughter.

We could be a family. But we aren't.

And so, holding my chest like it could somehow keep me whole, I wept silently, wishing for the life I could never have.

After a peaceful breakfast of pancakes, I start walking towards school, keeping my head buried in my history textbook. Not feeling particularly chirpy this morning, however, I couldn't take as much joy in learning about the Romans as I normally did.

Shocking huh?

Not looking up, I was almost too late to see the Honda come to a stop in front of me. My life flashed before my eyes as the brakes screeched.

It was not in the least bit entertaining.

The passenger door opened and I stood my ground, glaring towards the person coming out. My glare slipped a fraction of an inch as I recognised the passenger. But then it kicked up an extra twenty degrees as he sauntered towards me.

It was Jace Lightwood. And he was fucking grinning at me.

Frigging psychopath.

"What's the fucking shit, Jace?!"I screamed. "You almost ran me over!" Instead of looking sorry, which would be the polite thing to do, Jace looked entirely amused at my outrage.

"You look like a terrifying Strawberry Shortcake." My eyes narrowed into slits. "Also, I wasn't driving-that was Alec."

"I still blame you." I hissed. Jace quirked an eyebrow and looked me up and down. Finally, he shrugged.

"Fair enough." He beckoned with his thumb towards the awaiting car- I could hear voices coming from it and I figured Jace was travelling with his siblings. "You want a lift?" My outraged look changed to one of incredulousness.

"You're kidding? You want me to get into the same car that almost trampled me to death two minutes ago?"

"Well it's not like it's going to eat you. Although I would pay good money to see a car that would actually eat people."

I rolled my eyes at his antics, feeling my shoulders slump in defeat- Jace noticed and grinned, beckoning me over. I hugged my book closer to me and reached for the backseat door. Jace stopped me and pointed to the passenger seat. He, himself, moved around to the driver seat and opened the door.

"Come on, Alec. Let me drive." He said to Alec who I could now see was in the driver's seat. Alec gave Jace an exhausted look.

"You're joking, right?" He demanded, sounding like he already knew the answer.

"Of course not. Out you get." Jace sounded cheerful and I was glad that I was not the only one he was annoying.

Alec took a while to reply, but finally he gave a big sigh and got out the car, situating himself in the back seat next to his sister. I opened the passenger side door and took my seat. Jace sat down and started the car again, but Alec quickly reached around and grabbed his upper arm.

"You dare scratch my car and I will cut you." He warned, sounding dangerous. I immediately shrank into my seat, slightly freaked.

"It's a Honda, dude." Jace argued.

"I don't care. It's my car." Jace chuckled.

"Rightyo." He said simply and we were off.

Jace's POV

The look on her face was totally priceless. She was obviously trying to be intimidating but honestly, she looked about as intimidating as a slightly irritated chipmunk. At least, she had been twenty seconds ago.

Clary now looked utterly zoned out- or in, depending on your perspective.

She was utterly absorbed by her sketching, having pulled out a sketchpad from her bag. Her hands moved with careful precision, shifting over the paper in exact, concise movements. There was a funny little frown on her face, her eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. It occurred to me as I watched her out of the corner of my eye that she always had that look on her face when she was looking at something on paper.

"What you drawing?" I asked after a long silence. Well, silence in the front seat anyway. The back seat seemed to have some sort of conversation going on.

"Yes." Clary replied. I snorted trying not to show my amusement. Trying to figure out how zoned out/in she was, I decided to ask another question.

"Thor or Loki?"

"Maybe." I raised an eyebrow.

"Would you prefer world peace or an end to famine?"

"Uh-huh." I grinned evilly.

"So am I your type now?"

"In your dreams, little man." Shocked, I took my eyes off the road and looked towards Clary.

Her head was still bent towards the paper, but her sparkling eyes were pointed at me, a tiny, triumphant smirk on her face. I blink at her several times before she turned her eyes back to her drawing, shaking her head lightly. I can't wipe the grin off my face.

Believe me, I've tried.

"And not only did you scratch my car, you also only did that to impress some chick who obviously isn't interested!" Alec screamed at me during lunchtime.

I was not exactly thrilled about being screamed at as there were many people watching, most of whom I knew would stoop to mocking me about this in the not too distant future. I hadn't meant to scratch Alec's car, but I swear that curb had not been there before and that guy on the bike had had a death wish, clearly. He swerved in front of me. Totally not my fault.

Will, Jem and Gabriel seemed to be having a grand old time, Will in particular. I could hear them snickering behind me. Magnus, who was sitting behind my raging brother, seemed to find Alec absolutely fascinating, his golden-green eyes watching Alec's every movement with singular focus. I would wonder about that later.

"Are you done?" I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. Alec's face was turning a disturbing shade of red.

"No, I am not done! You scratched my car, Jace, after I specifically told you not to!" Alec was on a roll. "I saved up for almost an entire year to buy that car! The paint job was the only thing on it I don't need to fix and now it's completely ruined!"

"Is it just me or is Alec extremely hot when he's angry?" Magnus asked no one in particular.

"There are two tiny little scratches on it now, that's all. Jeez, calm down." I argued.

"Calm down?! You want me to calm down?! They are not 'tiny, little scratches'! They are humungous eyesores! You've ruined my car!"

"It's a Honda, Alec. The car's ruined anyway." For a second, Alec looks like he's about to hit me, but then he turns on his heel and stalks off in a storm of monochromatic anger.

I sit down next to Will and ignore him as he begins singing some song about how the Honda broke the brothers apart.

I'm genuinely a good driver- most of the time- so I actually have no idea how I scratched Alec's car. Literally no clue. At least, that's what I tell myself.

In actuality, as I turned the corner, the sun had aimed directly at Clary's hair and had turned it almost golden. It was eye-catching, okay?

Besides: what man didn't have a weakness for redheads?

A/N: So thoughts? Kind of a filler, not very exciting, I know. Sorry. Next chapter should be very happening, lots of stuff is going down. Very exciting so watch out for that. Question: I'm thinking I need more POV's. I'm thinking Alec, Isabelle, Magnus or Ragnor- or all of the above. Thoughts?

Let me know.

Have fun, say hi.

Love Stormy. xoxo