"Welcome to Colorado!" read the sign and I looked at Jace, bouncing up and down with a smile on my face while he frowned at his phone.

"Humph. We don't get to Colorado for another 1/16 of a mile," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "C'mon. I want to go skiing!"

The taxi pulled over, and Jace sighed at the number on that little money counter thingy. Two thousand and twenty four cents.

"Thank God your parents own a boarding school and have stocks for Google," I said, as he slid his credit card on the counter.

Jace grinned. "You little gold-digger."

I shrugged, winking at him as he placed the plastic card back into his wallet. "Money is hot."

Jace flipped his hair, revealing his other eye. "Yes I am."

He pulled the luggage out of the back – four purple bags.

We lugged them into the hotel, both of us carrying two at once.

We traveled up two flights of stairs before coming to a stop in front of a set of elevators. A family of Spanish people came out. They all had pale skin and brown hair, the youngest daughter's curled.

"No estamos llegando a dormir esta noche. Están recién casados," murmured the mother to her husband.

Jace looked appalled, his jaw slack. "No todas las personas casadas hacen eso!"

The husband looked slightly amused while the woman blushed.

"My sorry," the woman said in her heavily accented voice.

She took her curly haired daughter's hand and they all began to walk out, the oldest children looking extremely amused.

"So," I said, slumping back onto the bed. "What did the woman say?"

"She said, "We're not getting any sleep tonight. They're newly wedded."

I snorted and then coughed. "And you said something in return…?"

"I said, "Not all married people do that!"" At my expression, which was sour, he quickly backtracked. "Unless you want to. I certainly wouldn't mind."

I rolled my eyes as he began kissing my neck. As he began going further down, my hands shoved at his chest, effectively pushing him backwards.

"I don't want sex, Jace. I want to going skiing!"

He pouted, his bottom lip touching his chin disturbingly.

"That's not turning me on very much," I told him and he quickly pulled his lip back, placing a smirk there instead.

He collapsed backwards at his failed attempt, making a loud thump on the floor.

There was a knock at the door, and I prayed that it wasn't the Spanish woman, saying we were making too much "noise."

Jace hopped up and when he opened it, a little girl flew backwards.

"Why the hell does this door swing outwards?" he cried before rushing towards the little girl on the floor, her chocolate bars scattered everywhere.

She glared at Jace. "Great. Mom is going to kill me because I got chocolate chip all over my dress! I hate being a girl scout."

She picked herself up off the floor and I realized she wasn't as little as I thought she was. She was around the age of thirteen actually.

No wonder she thought her life sucked.

The girl kicked Jace in the stomach. "I'm not a little girl. I don't need your help."

She turned away, stomping down the hall, with her hair swishing violently.

I raised my eyes at the man lying on the ground. He looked up, his face practically purple.

"You're opening the door from now on," he groaned.

"C'mon you wimp. I want to ski," I said stubbornly.

Jace took an overly dramatic breath before exhaling loudly. He sat up slowly, onto his knees before standing up completely and staggering towards the outward swinging door.

I smirked at him as he passed me, grumbling about stupid chocolate bars.

Of course, we hadn't yet done the deed, so Jace went into the bathroom, locking it shut behind him.

I slipped on my cold weather gear quickly and excitedly. As I was putting on my hat, Jace came out.

"Clary," he said quietly.

I turned around so I could face him. "Yeah?"

"My pants don't fit," he muttered. "These are Alec's."

I looked down to see the pants jammed on and extremely tight on his legs, almost looking like he was wearing skinny jeans.

"Damn that boy is lanky," I commented. Jace laughed lightly.

"Only you would say that."

I flipped my hair over my shoulder, rolling my eyes. "You love it."

Jace grinned cheekily. "Of course I do."

I dug through his luggage – because I eventually took pity on him almost tearing the pants by bending down – searching for a pair of his own jeans. Oddly enough, this was all Alec's.

"Oh my God," I muttered. "Alec and Magnus planned a vacation, and you two…"

Alec

"Magnus?" my cheeks were on fire as I tried to hold the pants up that insisted on falling off me. "Do you have a belt?"

He whirled around, pausing from sticking eyeliner on. "Oh my God. Those are Jace's."

Clary

"…switched suitcases."

Jace groaned, falling back onto the bed, and a loud ripping sound came from the bed.

My eyes widened and Jace's mouth dropped.

"Time to go shopping, I suppose?"

We walked through Jcpenny with a newfound potential. Jace had put his pants back on, which were also the ones from the wedding so they had pink stain right in the middle of his butt.

Needless to say, we got some looks.

"I can't believe we're shopping here of all places we could've gone in this damn mall," he grumbled once again.
"Yes, well, you would look very sexy in Victoria Secret's lingerie. I have no idea why we didn't go there," I mocked, holding clothes in my right hand.

Jace bumped me with his shoulder, laughing quietly. "You're ridiculous, Mrs. Lightwood."

I blushed at the name, reminding myself that I was married to this hunk of a man.

He bent down to kiss my cheek and my eyes flutter closed before I bumped into a clothes rack to the ground and Jace burst out laughing.

Plaid shirts fell to the ground with a clatter, bringing all of the attention to us. My cheeks lit fire once again.

An old lady looked at us with a disapproving glare and I swear my cheeks were so hot, I bet I was blue. "Children, it's not good to play in a store. You're mother and father should've told you this. Where are your parents anyways, you scoundrels?"

I almost let my jaw drop before reminding myself that it was rude. "Ms., we're twenty-two and twenty-three," Jace said, and I saw him fighting to keep a smirk down.

"Then you really should know!" she exclaimed. She shook her head once more. "Your girlfriend doesn't look older than five."

This time I let my jaw drop. "Do you own a pair of glasses?" I snapped, offended.

"Why yes, I do!" she replied with a cheerful voice. "They have ladybugs!" She slipped them on, squinting. As I observed the glasses further, I noticed that they were butterflies, not ladybugs.

"Oh, my mistake dear," she said happily. "You look twelve."

Jace masked his laugh with a cough which – might I add – went on for about thirty seconds.

"Oh dear! Do you need an inhaler?" she asked, her eyes widening. "I have one in my purse, somewhere…"

"No, he needs a slap from his wife," I muttered, "which he'll be getting very soon."

Jace shut up quickly.

"Ah how sweet," the woman said endearingly. "You let the little girl believe she's your wife! You are a fantastic babysitter!"

"Oh my God," I groaned. "Look, we really need to go…"

"Oh of course! It must almost be your naptime! It's two p.m." she replied hastily. "Now, you, sir, give me a ring. I'm into men in their sixties. I'm only seventy-two."

Jace gawked as she retreated. "She thought I was sixty? Is it the paint splatter?"

I shook my head. "Let's go old man."

Please read this author's note at the slanted part.

OMG! IT'S BEEN FOREVER! Okay, three months, but I still feel bad.

All right, let me say this. This story isn't going to be get updated to often, but it won't be every four months, I promise.

I don't know if you guys have noticed or not, but this is basically a bunch of milestones in a married life. It's supposed to be humorous and romantic at the same time.

All right, well, I'll update in a couple weeks or so. It depends if I feel inspired or not.

Toodles!

Please begin reading now.

I've been working on an original story called The Searching and I want some people to edit it for me.

Here are the requirements:

1: You must have at least an education up to the 8th grade.

2: You must have an email.

3: You must have a Google Drive.

4: You must PM me if you want to edit and in the PM will consist of your name (it doesn't have to be your actual name), your level of education, your age, your email, and a glimpse of your own writing – FanFiction or original.

5: The deadline for this is Tuesday, August 5th

Yeah, that's the requirements, and here's I'm going to have the little thing go.

1: This group can have an unlimited amount of people

2: This will all be on Google Drive

3: We will be able to see each other's edits, and I can revert back to the original, and see what each person has done.

4: I'm going to put it on there on Saturdays and Sundays that way not so many people will have work etc.

5: It will probably not be every Saturday/ Sunday due to my own schooling.

Here's a segment of what you will be editing.

Bang, bang, bang!

Sister Olivia opened the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why must you do all that racket? There are sleeping children in this house!"

The woman at the door rolled her eyes. "CIA agent, Arabella Forge. You are harboring a client of ours and we would like to speak to her."

I felt bile rise up my throat. I hadn't realized this case went all the way up to the CIA.

Sister Cecilia looked at the woman with utter calmness, like the eye of a storm. Of course, there wasn't a storm in her, but a hurricane rising up in me.

"I don't exactly know who you are talking about Ms. Forge," Sister replied, "and therefore I cannot let you speak to her."

The woman at the door grunted with impatience. "She's fourteen, brownish blonde hair with blue eyes. Lillian Harris."

Sister Cecilia looked surprised before looking backwards, as if she were making sure no one else was looking. I was grateful for the coverage of the wall I was hiding behind.

"Miss Harris is not emotionally fixed for this, and you should know this Ms. Forge. No one who has watched their mother die is okay," Sister said quietly and I felt anger boiling up inside of me.

Lance grabbed my arm, restraining me from smacking Sister in the face.

"Patience, Lillie," Lance murmured, his voice so quiet that I was surprised when I saw the agent's eyes narrow.

She rudely shoved Sister to the side, her boots that should've been loud making no sound as they crossed the wooden floor briskly.

All right, so just let me know if you want to and I will be grateful.

I've gotten three offers already, but it is unlimited.