Hello readers!
Sorry for the long wait, but here we are! A new chapter. Yay. Okay, so that's just about it.
Warning: There will be swearing in this story. Nothing too horribly gruesome, and not extensively. Just the occasional F-bomb, and milder.
DISCLAIMER: I actually am Cassandra Clare. SURPRISE! Bet you didn't expect that, did you?
Just kidding, I'm not really Cassie Clare.
Or am I?
Nope...
Clary had never been to California before. She had heard a lot about it, but she had never actually been. She expected it to be something like what was described in the songs. Hollywood, sun, heat, ocean, bikinis, tans, movies, celebrities, money. Although, she thought as she and Jace wandered through the airport dragging their suitcases behind them, they may have only been describing a certain city, instead as the state in general.
Outside the large, wall length, windows of the San Francisco Airport, a considerably thick sheet of fog hung close to the ground, swirling around the feet of hurrying passengers, eager to catch their flights and meet appointments. It had been a beautiful sight, watching the Californian sunset as the plane circled the city. The sky, brimming with golden light as the burning hot disk rapidly came into view over the hills that bordered one side of the city. Luminous rays, almost the exact colour of Jace's eyes, had reflected off the shimmering water, looking like magic and bright streams of sunlight had penetrated the aircrafts windows and shimmied across Jace's then sleeping face, like tiny dancing angels.
Now, as she glanced at Jace to her right, Clary couldn't help but notice that he looked very un-Jace like, if that explained anything. His hair was tangled and pushed up to one side, where he had been sleeping on it. The red mark he had gained from his face being pressed up against the side of the chair, still lingered on his cheek, and his eyes were red and puffy, seeing as she had waited until they had landed to wake him up, in order to avoid another almost panic attack. His clothes were crumpled and he sported dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He had only gained about an hour and a half. All in all, he looked like shit. Jace looked at Clary, catching her stolen glance.
"I know," He said, stifling a yawn, "You don't have to say it."
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad." They had left the main terminal now, and where lining up with all the other bleary eyed Red Eye passengers, waiting to hail a taxi.
"Well it's not exactly easy to keep up my usual good looks," Jace's tone was defensive, "especially on a plane suspended at such a high altitude."
"Hey" She put up her hands in submission, "I never said anything about it, did I?"
"But you were thinking it."
"Oh yeah? Since when did you have telepathic, mind reading abilities?"
"Don't need them." He said, wrapping a single arm around her waist, "It's all in your eyes."
"Really?" Her tone was flat.
"Yup." He popped the 'P', "Face it Clary, I can read you like a book."
"I'm sure." She sniffed. Jace smirked at her, leaning down for a kiss, which she happily returned, already over it. She pulled back after a moment, crinkling her nose.
"Ew. You desperately need to brush your teeth." Jace simply shrugged.
"Well, let's get to the hotel, then, shall we?" He said, opening the boot to the cab and hauling his suitcase in. He picked up Clary's from where it stood on the ground next to her. The blonde man took her arm and guided her to the already open car door, helping her in, before sliding onto the worn leather seat himself.
"What's the closest hotel?" Jace asked the cabbie, a middle aged man with spectacles balanced on the edge of his nose, "Something nice, but not too pricey."
"Beresford Hotel?" The man asked, glancing at them in the rear-view mirror, his eyes taking in their appearance.
"That'll be fine." Jace sat back in the cab as they turned onto the road. Clary looked out the window, taking in the beautiful old buildings and the blur of people on the side walk outside as the hustle and bustle of the day started to kick in. She couldn't help but think about how quiet it was compared to New York. In terms of activity, in Manhattan, the days and nights barely differed, but here the change was noticeable. In New York, half of the people were either nocturnal or insomniacs. There is a reason they call it "The City that never sleeps".
She cab pulled up besides an old, white building, with red doors and a black sign proclaiming the building as the "Beresford Hotel". Clary stepped outside, effectively hitting her head on the door frame. She felt a pair of strong hands on her waist as Jace guided her out of the cab and onto the footpath. She waited as he pulled their suitcases out of the trunk, slamming the door down behind him and thudding the back of the car twice, signalling to the cab tom leave.
"Need me to get one of those?" Clary asked, gesturing to the two suitcases. Jace shook his head so Clary shrugged and they walked into the hotel foyer together.
The foyer was painted yellow, with dark wooden accents in the furniture and curtains. At the front desk was a pretty blonde woman, wearing a white blouse, a string of pearls adorning her neck. She looked up at the sound of the small bell that ringed when they entered through the doorway, and smiled.
"Hello, welcome to The Beresford."Her voice held a slight accent. Something European, French maybe, "A room for two?"
Jace nodded and approached the front desk, leaving Clary to watch the bags. She sat down in an old fashioned arm chair, her body aching with exhaustion. The bell on the elevator sounded, and she watched as an elderly couple hobbled out of the lift.
The woman was small, probably a similar size to Clary. Her hair was light gray, but her eyes still held a fair amount of youth. The bright green of her irises seemed to sparkle as she looked up at her partner, a much taller man. The man's hair was a silky white, thinner than the woman's, but his eyes held the same youthfulness as his wife. Clary smiled brightly at the couple, and they returned the smile, just as cheerfully. Clary couldn't help but grin inwardly. The pair looked almost the way she imagined her and Jace looking, when they where old and gray.
If you ever make it to that stage she reminded herself. She knew that more shadowhunters died younger than old. But she refused to let herself think like that. She pushed the thoughts away and looked towards the front desk, just as Jace turned away from the blonde woman. He walked towards her across the small foyer and leaned down to pick up their luggage.
"Come on," He gestured towards the elevator, "You look tired. Let's go get some sleep."
She yawned in agreement, and pulled herself out of the arm chair. In the elevator, she leaned against the bars lining the walls of the small compartment. When they arrived at their floor, Clary and Jace trudged down the hall to room 32. Jace slid the key into the lock and pulled the door open, revealing the hotel suite.
The room was reasonably small, with cream walls. In the centre of the far wall was a dark wood, queen sized bed, covered with a black and white patterned quilt. The room was comfortable, accessorised with dark wood furniture and white lamps. The carpet was soft, white wool and contrasted nicely with the teak furniture. On the wall above the bed, framed by black, was a picture of the view of San Francisco from the window of their bedroom. Why they would need a picture of the view, when all they needed to do was walk over to the window to see the real thing, was beyond Clary. Next to the chest of drawers was a door that she suspected led to the on suite.
Clary yawned again as Jace locked the door behind them. He discarded the cases next to the chest of drawers, and stretched his arms up above his head, working out the kinks in his stiff shoulders. She flopped down onto the bed, pulling her jeans off, leaving her in a pair of black underwear. Jace looked over, his tired eyes raking up and down her body, lingering on her upper thighs. Clary pulled down the quilt, slipping inside the bed, pulling the quilt up to around neck. She lazily knocked the complimentary mint off the bed, laying her head down on the soft pillow.
Jace watched her, her red hair clouding around her face, as he peeled off his wrinkled shirt and jeans, leaving his boxes in place. He climbed into the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her upper body. She dug her face into his chest and breathed him in.
"You know," Jace mumbled into her hair, "You look adorable when you're tired."
"I choose to take that as a compliment." Her voice was muffled from being half under the blankets, "Got to sleep Jace." She told him.
"I don't want to go to sleep." He protested.
"Why's that?"
"I don't want to miss any of this."
"This?"
"This. You, mainly."
"What do you mean?" Her voice was curious.
"I don't want to miss a minute of you. I love you too much."
"Corny."
Jace smiled and lifted her head to press his forehead into hers, kissing her nose.
"I try."
There you go, a bit of fluff.
But the best news is... WE MEET DEXTER NEXT CHAPTER! Hooray! I'm so sorry for the wait. I just didn't want to be one of those fan fictions that just jump into the story, without proper the build up. But finally, here we are!
Please feel free to R&R! In fact, I encourage it.
Every time you review, a unicorn is born.
Love,
Beth.
