I'm terribly sorry I've been disappearing on you guys. I keep get caught up on betaing projects and my two other stories that I've been trying to work on as well. Something is bound to get neglected, and I'm sorry to say this story ended up getting just that.

Also, I have nothing against German's, and I have never taken a German class in my life, so sorry for anyone who has and catches my mistakes. The translation is at the bottom in my a/n and mind you, I just used google translate for this, so it probably won't be very correct.

Kuddos (is that correct spelling?) to my lovely beta who perfects this fic and is a lovely person in general.

Guest: Thank you! That last chapter made me worry a bit, because anything with action (yes, even, throwing lung parts at each other is considered action in my terms) is hard to write for me personally, so it made me extremely happy to see that you enjoyed the last chapter. Though it took an exceptionally long time for this to finally be posted, I hope you will like this one as well!

-Lau

Clary sullenly swiped her fingers through her hair, hating the stiffness and tangles formed by the goat lung. Jace sat across the room, just as upset, slouching in his chair with arms folded. Even though she was just as in trouble as he was, she couldn't help but feel a little smug. In fact, if it wasn't for her smelly and damp shirt, she'd be completely satisfied.

Clary lost count how long the pair had been sitting in angry silence, so when their counselor came in speaking loudly, she jumped and straightened her posture.

"Mr. Daviez has already told me uv yer situachon." Mr. Kriegsmesser was their German counselor, who had no idea what he was doing most of the time and apparently had the best tantrum fits since Adolf Hitler.

"Then you'll know that this is entirely his fault, and not mine," Clary spouted, raising her hand.

"Really? How old are you? No one raises their hands anymore," Jace shot back, and added with a smirk, "They raise their pencils."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't have any at hand. I'll keep that in mind next time," she sneered.

"Apology accepted." Jace beamed back at her.

Mr. Kriegsmesser glanced worriedly between the two of them. "Do you two nut like one another?"

"No, we're best buddies," Jace said sarcastically.

"Oh. Well sen, detenchon should be very fun if you are good friendz."

Clary proceeded to slap her forehead, while Jace chuckled in his corner.

Mr. Kriegsmesser either didn't notice or decided to ignore them. "I'm not shurr vat you two deed to get in here, but-"

"I thought you knew 'Zesituachon'" Jace mocked, quoting with his fingers.

"Did you just...How dare you! How many times az this happened! Don't make fun uvf my accent!" Mr. Kriegsmesser spluttered, pointing a finger at Jace. Uh-oh, Clary thought. He was going to start yelling at them.

"If it bothers you sir, we'll stop," Clary amended, darting a quick glare over to Jace. She did not want to see this man angry.

It seemed that the more flustered Mr. Kriegsmesser became, the worse his English got. "Fvery much so, tanks. Now, let us get on weeth this."

"'Weeth?'" Jace gave the counselor a bewildered look. "What does that even mean?!"

Clary hung her head. Did he know nothing? Couldn't he just keep his mouth shut for one minute? Clary hid her face behind her hands, peeking through them once to see Mr. Kriegsmesser fuming where he stood, sending Jace a death glare that could only be interpretted as, I-AM-GOING-TO-KILL-YOU look. Jace deserved it. Perhaps she would help Mr. Kriegsmesser throw him out a window or something.

Things took the turn for the worst when he began yelling at them...in German. " Du dumme Schwein geleitet Amerikaner mit solchen arrogant und überheblich arsch" Mr. Kriegsmesser's face turned the shade of a tomato, a large vein popping out of his neck. " Ich gebe auf ! Ich hasse dieses Land und all seine verrückten Kinder ohne Respekt für foriegners !

Clary and Jace exchanged glances; Jace looked like he was about to burst out laughing, while Clary wondered whether she should go and fetch someone. She didn't believe in stereotypes, but she had heard that Germans get really violent when angered. Or maybe it was just the German language that sounded so angry?

That's when another counselor came running in. "Amalric! What happened? Are you all right?" she swept her dark hair behind her ear worriedly, biting her lip as he responded in German again, sounding near close to tears.

"Sie sind wirklich Abschaum. So unempfindlich ! Warum habe ich diesen Job ? Ich will zurück nach Deutschland zu gehen ! Hagel Mutterland! Jemand nimm mich zurück!"

Mr. Kriegsmesser then began sobbing loudly into her shoulder, the woman patting his back awkwardly. "There there. You'll be fine. Follow me and you can have some chocolate milk."

Clary glanced over at Jace again, biting her lip to keep silent. Is that how teachers comforted each other? With some chocolate milk?

"Did you understand anything he just said?" Jace asked, standing up and brushing off his pants.

"Not at all." Clary replied, getting up as well. "Do you think we should just go back to our classes?"

"How would I know?"

Clary just shrugged, her eyes widening at the rude tone from Jace. Normally he insulted or mocked her with a funny or playful comment, never cold or snappish.

"Jace?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"In Biology." Clary gulped quickly. The question had been bothering her the past twenty minutes or so. "What demented part of your brain made you touch my hair?"

Jace stared at her for a few seconds in a scrutinizing gaze. "I don't know."

Clary sighed. "So you did it for just the fun of it?"

"Pretty much."

"I don't believe you."

Jace just snorted. "Fine. Believe whatever you want. But I'm telling you. There wasn't any kind of plan or thought that went into the action."

"I don't-"

"Well, I'm not sure what you did to Mr. Kriegsmesser, but he's pretty distraught." A tall woman walked in then, with dark skin and long, black hair walked,

"Yeah, we can tell. He just randomly freaked out on us." Jace shared a look with Clary, raising an eyebrow at her, as if challenging her to see if she'd tell.

"Luckily I've convinced him to keep his job, so I can continue where he left off. I'm Diana Wrayburn, the head counselor." She gestured for them to sit, and so she set herself down in the chair across from them. "Mr. Davies explained that you two were behaving recklessly and dangerously in a lab, which is very serious. You do realize someone could've gotten hurt in your-" she picked up a sheet of paper on her lap and read, "'cross fire of dissection equipment and lung particles?' That's how Mr. Davies explained it to me over email, at least."

Jace choked down laughter, Mrs. Wrayburn snapping her head to look at him. "Do you think this is funny?"

"No ma'am." Jace kept his eyes on the floor.

"Good-"

"But Mr. Davies explaining what happened as 'cross fire' is pretty hilarious."

Mrs. Wrayburn glared at him and got out of her chair, coming to tower over where Jace sat. He didn't look bothered at all, in fact, he winked at Clary. She just rubbed her forehead and trained her eyes on the floor. Jace just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "You're lucky you two aren't facing suspension which I can easily do, young man. So I think it best for you to keep your large mouth shut before it gets you into anymore trouble.

Jace nodded, his eyes wide and lips pursed. "Are you done?" another nod.

"Good. Now we can get started. After what you two just pulled, I believe that a month of detention will compensate. Luckily nothing broke, so no expenses need to be made."

Clary sighed; she'd thought that physical labor was usually mixed with this kind of crime.

"And..." Mrs. Wrayburn glanced down a few more packets, "I've received some complaints about our Chemistry equipment room for the Sophomores..."

Clary dreaded what was coming up next. Surely some kind of grueling work.

"Something about brown sugar..." Mrs. Wrayburn frowned and looked at them. "I guess there's some problems with the brown sugar. You two will clean it up sometime next week. If it isn't done by then, I'll keep on assigning more to your to-do list."

Clary bit her lip and glanced at Jace. He was in his brooding position again: his lower lip protruding slightly more than the upper and slumped shoulders, ankles crossed. A whole month with Jace...Clary would rather be tortured with harmful chemicals.

Translation in German. "You stupid pig headed Americans with such arrogant and overbearing ass. I give up ! I hate this country and all its crazy kids with no respect for foreigners ! You really are scum. So insensitive ! Why do I even have this job? I want to go back to Germany ! Hail Motherland! Someone take me back !

Like I said before, I've never taken a German class, and I have nothing against them, especially since I'm mostly German in my heritage.

Yes it sounds pretty robotic in translation, but if I was Clary or Jace, in a room with a German man with serious anger issues, I'd find it pretty hilarious, and as I've already stated I think previously, most of this fic is for the humor.

SPOILERS for COHF: For those who don't know who Almaric Kreigsmesser is, he's the Endarkened in CoHF who died from drinking from the mortal cup.

-Lau