Hey guys! This ones basically about Emma getting over her fear of Jonathan. I've been pretty busy with study so this is pretty much unedited, my apologises in advance:) Hope you like it!

Emma quickly got up off the floor feeling humiliated at seeming so weak again. She didn't know what he was planing, except that he intended to play with her, like a cat with a mouse. She wondered what he would do if she refused to pick up the staff.

Surely killing her wasn't that high on his priorities list, especially as he was in the institute practically alone. Shouldn't he be looking for the clave's secret plans or something? But then again, it wasn't as if killing her would take that long for him, so maybe he was just having his fun for the day.

To stall for time she asked him, "Why are you here?"

He seemed to be in a good mood, so maybe it would be best to just keep him talking? She didn't know when the others would be back, but probably not for another few hours at least. Breathing deeply, she told herself she'd easily survive that long with the demon boy.

"I thought I'd drop by and thank Maryse for the hospitality of letting me stay last month." Jonathan smirked at her.

When he was standing in front of her like that, with blood dripping down one side of his shirt, his tall frame towering over her, Emma couldn't believe she'd ever had a crush on him, he was just so intimidating, and frankly, just overall scary.

"I should probably have a word with Jace as well. Letting his sister run into young gentlemens' bedrooms at night isn't something I'd recommend." He kept a serious expression, but his eyes were laughing at her. "Why? did you think my father had sent me to steal all the important documents from here? Because believe me, he already has them."

Emma's first thought was to tell Maryse this bit of news as soon as she got back, but then realised she'd have a lot of things to tell her if she was still here when the others got back.

She desperately wondered what she could ask him to stall for more time. As he was talking about last month, her mind jumped ahead of her and she blurted out, "Thank you for letting me stay in your bed that night, when you could have just left me on the floor." Gosh, that sounded weird. She thanked all her lessons at keeping her emotions in check, to stop her from blushing at the absurdity of her statement. But at least it should have him confused, she hoped.

Indeed he did look a little startled, but quickly returned a smug grin to his face. "Oh, I don't think you'll ever have to thank a boy for sleeping with you." He started idly spinning the quarterstaff round his arm, looking faintly bored. "But your getting rather off topic, don't you think? We should really be training right now." He caught the stick as it glided over his palm and assumed a fighting stance.

Emma thought it best to pick up the staff so she at least had something to defend herself with. Jonathan looked like he wouldn't be side tracked again, so she prepared herself for her 'training' and whatever that would entail.

"Bend your knees more, so your centre of gravity is closer to the ground. Standing up like that will make it easy for your opponent to knock you off balance."

OK, so he did mean just training? She lowered herself into a more stable position and readied herself for his attack.

"You move first, I want to see how you fight." Jonathan stated after both of them had been motionless for a few seconds.

Emma didn't need telling twice, an invitation to kick his butt? Hell yeah!

Unfortunately, after five minutes of failed attempts, and still not having got a hit on him, she realised it might be harder to teach him a lesson than it seemed before they started. It was nice though, to not have to hold back at all, to not have to worry about accidentally hurting him, like she did when training with the others. This was full on battle conditions and Emma was loving it.

Or she was, until Jonathan started to fight back. It had been so nice to throw stroke after stroke at the boy, getting rid of all her pent up fear, anger and frustration, but now she found herself in the same position as a few moments ago. Lying on the floor weaponless, with Jonathan standing above her holding his quarterstaff.

Sweat was dripping off her, and she had to catch her breath before getting up again. He had only been defending her blows till he did some weird move, throwing her staff in one direction and herself in the other.

"Not bad, but you need to focus on technique more, as you really aren't going to beat anyone with your strength or speed."

Emma looked stonily back at him. He didn't say it as a quib, but it stung none the less. Weak and slow? Her? Did he even take into account that he was just fast and strong compared to the average shadowhunter?

Emma had been about to make a snarky comeback, but his stance was so intimidating. He still stood arrogantly over her, looking down with a slight frown on his face as if concentrating. When she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, he merely raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at her fallen quarterstaff, the humour from before gone. So she rolled over and went to pick it up in silence.

"We have about half an hour to work on your defence, you OK to continue now?" Jonathan asked as Emma came back to stand in front of him holding her staff once more.

Prepared for the attack this time, Emma nodded, and was able to block the first few strokes, but then caught a blow across her stomach that had her gasping for breath. Jonathan allowed her a few seconds rest to recover before lounging at her again. And so they went on, Emma trying desperately to match his speed and skill, quickly regaining her breath after every time she was beaten down onto the floor.

She was still scared, but with Jonathan calling out instructions and correcting her technique, even stopping sometimes to show her how to do a particular move, she slowly lost the fear of being tortured or killed. Surly no one would put this amount of work into something they were just going to get rid of, right?

As her fear ebbed, she again started to notice just how hot Jonathan looked while fighting, he was more fluent than any dancer she'd ever seen. It made him look younger and more human, weird in a way that fighting made him appear like that, she thought, but then this was his element she guessed.

By the time they stopped, Emma's muscles were aching, not to mention all the places she'd been hit. She jumped as she felt the sting of a stele on her shoulder, and turned to find Jonathan drawing on a rune. She jumped out of his grip and spun round to see him with his hands up in mock surrender, a stele in his hand.

"It's just an iratze, come here and let me finish it. Surly you don't want to be covered in bruises tomorrow?" She was pleased to see that he was sweating as well, (See? I'm not just a pushover you prick!) though he was not as breathless as she was from the fight. She still didn't feel comfortable with him putting runes on her though, so said, "I can do it, you'll probably want one yourself for that cut."

He lifted one eyebrow and spoke with more force this time, "Come here and let me finish off the iratze before you ruin it."

Emma still didn't move, but Jonathan just walked over to her and in one move had spun her round again and finished the rune. He then lifted up his shirt and quickly sketched another over the cut, before sliding the stele back into his boot.

He had very pale skin, on which his rune scars stood out as silvery threads winding over his well formed abdomen. Emma looked away politely, which Jonathan thought very funny. He would have taken off his shirt completely to make her feel more uncomfortable, but the scars on his back still stung when anything brushed against them, so he decided he'd have to leave it at that this time. "It's getting pretty late, I'll take you to your room." She looked annoyed, but didn't comment, just started heading to the door. She was still awfully quiet, he thought, but maybe after a while she'd open up more.

Her room was the same as it had been the last time he was here, but possibly even more messy. His father would throw a fit seeing this, Jonathan thought absently. Turning around from his position in the centre of the room, he saw that Emma was still standing by the open door, obviously expecting him to leave. A smirk grew on his face, he had no intention of leaving quite so soon, so he casually strolled over to her book self and made a quick search of the tittles there. There were a lot of stupid romance novels, but also quite a collection of mundane mystery stories.

He noticed that the girl hadn't moved away from the door, as if it was her escape route. So he went over and sat on the bed, looking at her pointedly. "Well? are you going to come in and shut the door?" She looked quite nervous, but not as scared as she was earlier.

Slowly she closed the door and turned to face him, "What do you want?" Emma knew it was a dangerous question to ask, but couldn't resist. At least her voice was steady, she told herself.

"Oh, a lot of things, as do most people." He looked the polar opposite of Emma, sprawled out horizontally on her bed, completely relaxed and at ease.

"When did you first come to the institute?" He asked while inspecting his nails, apparently unconcerned of his surroundings. She debated telling him anything, when he sat up straight, suddenly all alert.

Soon she too heard the unmistakable sounds of Maryse yelling at Jace and Alec, something about mud getting everywhere. Her first thought was of relief that they were finally back, then the dread of what Jonathan might do to any of them set in.

She still hadn't moved when their voices got nearer and nearer. From down the corridor Jace's voice rang out, "No, she's probably just in her room. I'll go check."