Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.

A/N: This is a flashback sequence sort - of - thing. Pretend it's italicized. Or not.

On another note, thanks for reading/reviews!


Clary has just met Issac.

No.

Clary has just caught a passing mention of Issac between gasps (not hers) and muffled attempts at an explanation.

She climbs onto the end of the couch, and takes the joint out of Izzy's hand. Pressing it between her lips, she finds that she's a little too close for comfort - but she doesn't care – and neither does Izzy, or Issac, who seem oblivious to everything except each other.

Clary exhales dramatically and tries to catch a glimpse of the new boy. He looks a lot like Meliorn – pointed ears, pale, clear skin and a fairly small frame. But there's something else that seems to unhinge Clary – unlike a crooked nose, and an imperfect set of teeth (undeniably reminiscent of human features), his eyes are a startlingly green. And as his lust for Izzy grows - until it's holding both of them in its grasp – the colour of his eyes intensify.

Clary remembers where she's seen those eyes before. It's not a trick of light, or her drug induced state that is alerting her to this.

It's Magnus. Magnus has similar eyes.

Izzy hooks her ankle around hers as she's about to stand up. Issac slides off the couch with the grace of a panther, and Izzy wraps her hand around Clary's neck and pulls her close. The words come quickly.

"Issac's a hybrid. Isn't that the most fascinating thing you've ever heard?" Izzy breathes.

"A what?" Clary hisses.

"A hybrid. He's like, part warlock, part fairy."

"No. No way. That's not possible. I mean, wouldn't that make him a pure demon? He'll mostly have demon blood running through his veins, right?" Clary tries to logic.

"Clarissa, anything's possible. You're just beginning to realize that," Izzy laughs.

"Is that the worst part?" Clary asks tentatively, taking another drag of the joint she's holding.

"No. Yes. Who fucking knows," Izzy says, as Issac returns and gives her a quick kiss.

Clary doesn't like it when people sum up her life in one sentence. Like Issac's eyes, Jace's intensity and the pronunciation of her full name - it unhinges her.

"This lovely lady is going to give me a heart attack. My heart is beating astonishingly fast," Issac purrs, maintaining his gaze on Izzy. Clary fears that Izzy may pull a muscle, because it's not possible for a person to smile that much – but she knows she's being cynical and decides to forgive Issac for his poor sense of humour - which is nothing, she may add, beyond fucking terrible.

Issac whispers something in Izzy's ear, and Clary can tell – from the way she changes her posture - that he has suggested something she doesn't agree with.

" Only if Clary comes with me," Izzy says.

Izzy glances at Clary and she squints like she can't see clearly, as Izzy's large hoop earrings catch the light.

"Please Clary? Will you come with me?" Izzy asks, extending her hand.

The rawness that is so pertinent in Izzy's voice has been stripped away and Clary wants nothing more than to take this opportunity to ask Izzy what she's in for - but there doesn't seem to be much time as Issac already has his arm wrapped around Izzy's waist.

She nods and takes Izzy's hand. Izzy's grip tightens and Clary repeatedly tells herself that she's doing this for Izzy's sake – rather than Alec's – but it doesn't seem to work. She knows that he's most likely to pin the blame on her when she returns to the Institute if she turns up with a drunk, drugged – or in the worst case scenario - no Izzy at all.

Clary and Izzy are led down a narrow hallway. The occasional grunt, and soft laughter emanate from closed doors. At the end of the hallway, Issac knocks a few times before someone swings the door open, and gestures for the three of them to enter.

Clary doesn't need to go to college to figure out where she's seen this set up before. She would have thought that a boy who bears traits of a warlock and a fairy would opt for eccentricity rather than normality. But Issac proves her wrong again, because his room, or what she assumes is his room, looks exactly like a college dorm room - from the posters on the wall, to the mustard yellow carpet, and finally the kitchenette, partially obscured from view.

"Just through here," he says, sweeping the beaded door curtain aside.

He pulls a key out of his pocket and slips it into the complicated lock of his kitchen cabinet. Izzy leans against the sink and looks up at the bright, fluorescent light – she seems entranced.

Issac appears to be struggling with the key.

"Hey, do you need help?" Clary asks.

"I reckon I've got it," Issac says, as he pops the locks open. "Brilliant." He reaches into the cabinet to pull out a few bottles and a wooden box adorned with symbols foreign to Clary.

"So…which one of you is Valentine's daughter?" Issac asks as he rummages through the box.