Thanks to everybody for the reviews last chapter! They were deeply appreciated! This chapter is purely comedy- the calm before the storm, if you will. But this chapter is about how our favorite cat has come to be. Hope everybody enjoys it and laughs as much as I did writing it!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments or any of its materials.

Clary's P.O.V

"Your mother is making us plant this damn Greenhouse why?" I ask, looking at my dirt caked fingernails and ruined jeans, irritated that I've been sentenced to planting Maryse's garden. If there is one thing I hate more than Raphael Santiago and Jonathan, which would have to be gardening. I have no interest in flowers because they stir up my allergies and I hate dirt because it gets in your nails and all. The only plus side to this is that there is sharp gardening tools…

Isabelle huffs. "Remember that little display at the park?"

I snort, thinking of that poor park manager. He was not a very happy camper that day when he gave Maryse a call. Neither was she. We were grounded for the week, not allowed out of the house for the weekend, and had to be home by five the next week after. We also got our phones taken away. Then we were dished out here to the Greenhouse to plant some more flowers for the lady's gardens which was beginning to die out. I wish that these flowers would just die out already, but I think Maryse bought the U.V. lights and everything in here for a purpose. "He shouldn't have been a royal prick. Whoever that little jackass was that stole our money for funnel cakes should have paid up when I socked him."

Isabelle struggles to keep in a laugh but we both bust out into giggles anyways, screeching with laughter, rolling around on the ground. We both come back up with dirt on every square inch of our bodies, still snickering. The door to the Greenhouse opens and I see Maryse's eyes lock onto me, teeth grit in irritation. The woman chucks something at me- I'm not sure if it was one of Max's action figures or something else, but it hurt when I was hit. "No breaks! I want this Greenhouse to look like God came and made everything perfect down to the last flower petal." With that she slams the door, shaking the top of the Greenhouse, sending down a dangling flower pot that took forever to install.

I huff. "No damn fair!"

Maryse sticks her head back in, smiling a menacing smile. "I can make sure that you're cleaning my house until it sparkles, little lady. I'm no stranger to odd punishments for my little delinquents."

I gulp. "Yes, Mrs. Lightwood." I've only ever called Maryse that if she was upset with me- seems to calm her down a bit. "I'm on it!" I pick up a bag of potting soil, smiling brightly at her. With a mutter of, "That's what I thought," she returns inside to obviously watch her T.V shows. I wait until she's out of hearing range and then I drop the potting soil, slumping down onto the ground, throwing a shovel as Isabelle who is giggling like a maniac.

"Oh my God, that is rich!" Isabelle says.

I roll my eyes. "Shut up. Your mother's is about as freaking crazy as I'll get out and her disciplinary methods are unethical." I rub my forehead where I was hit and I look to see that I was hit with Max's Optimous-Prime action figure, grumbling as I tuck it into my pocket to give him later. "I mean I love Maryse, but she's evil- evil with capital letters."

Isabelle snickers. "That evil?"

I nod, tying my hair back into a messy bun. "Why did you rope me into going to the park when I could have been with Alec that day? I blame you, little miss." I begin pulling up the dead reeds from the duck pond, tossing them aside, falling flat on my ass when one breaks loose.

"Blame me?" Isabelle asks. She surrounds a tulip with potting soil, smiling satisfactorily. "You were the one duking it out with that kid!"

I scoff. "You wanted the funnel cakes and told me to wail him out. You, my dear, are the cause of our misery." I shoot Isabelle a teasing smile, looking back at the reeds, doing a double take because I think I see something move. I shake it off, looking back at the dark headed girl who is staring at me with a look of mock distaste.

"Next time keep that nasty temper of yours under wraps. You should have reported the bastard to the park authorities," Isabelle says.

"Those park rangers were retards," I reply. "Riding around on their motor scooters and eating doughnuts…" Grumbling, I pull up another dead reed, hissing when I feel the sides of it ride up my hands, watching as droplets of blood splatter onto the ground. Okay…I guess I deserved that.

Isabelle looks over at me, cocking her eyebrows, a smile on her face. "So when are you and Mr. Man going out on a date, hmm?"

"I…don't know," I admit quietly. "I'm trying to wait until Jon leaves. You know he'll follow us if we go out anywhere. Remember when I went to prom with Si that one year?"

"Yeah- he popped up out of that trash can wearing camouflage and had a pair of binoculars," Isabelle says, snickering. "Imagine what he'd do to you and Alec… Follow you around in his Ferrari; hide in bushes; wear a disguise. Hell; he might just tag along to make sure you and Alec don't get frisky."

I feel a wild blush come up on my face and Isabelle, once again, bursts out into tears from laughter. I yell at her, pulling up on another reed when I see something shuffle in the grass. I cock an eyebrow, looking back at Isabelle. "Hey, did we miss one of the ducks or something?"

Isabelle shakes her head. "We shouldn't have. I think that the six of them is locked up in their pins."

"If you say so," I reply quietly, setting back to work when I watch the reeds shuffle again and I become worried, searching through the reeds. I push the lot of them back, trying to find the stowaway. Thinking that I missed one of the ducks I find the hiding spot of the animal and I'm met with a hiss, eyes beholding blue fur rising up on a furry beast's back. Then I'm met with sharp claws and a not-so-happy cat attacking my face.

…

Alec's P.O.V

"Why can't Clare and Izzy be down here?" Max whines, falling back onto the couch. I'm sure he wants to watch the newest episode of Impractical Jokers with Clary and Isabelle more than he does me, but he'll have to settle for the substitution. "Mom promised she'd leave them alone!"

I chuckle. "Mom's going to get her punishment dished out whether it be one way or another. Just relax, Max. They'll be done soon enough." I flip through the channels, deciding on The Wolverine until it is time for Impractical Jokers to come on. From above I hear hysterical laughter from Isabelle's part and Clary's yelling profanities as usual… I swear she's too temperamental for her on good. If she would keep her mouth shut and anger low-lying, I could have taken her to see The Fault in Our Stars and then out for dinner. But no…she had to maul a kid for twenty dollars.

Max glares at me. Arms crossed, he sits back against the sofa, legs kicking. The both of us sit in awkward silence until we hear a series of ungodly screams. Max is the first to scatter up to the Greenhouse, legs carrying him as fast as he can possibly go. I follow not too far behind, racing up the iron spiral steps that lead to our greenhouse. Mom, of course, is close by, clearly panicked by the girls' shrieks. What could have made them screaming like that? All that's up there is ducks and Jace is the only one nutty enough to be scared of them. They must have found a mouse or something- girls are scared of that kind of thing.

I follow Max into the greenhouse, seeing for myself on what's distressed the girls. They stand on Dad's workbench, hugging each other like their lives depended upon it. Their faces have long vertical and horizontal scratches on them, blood drip-dropping off their faces and staining their clothing. Each of them has a weapon- Clary a shovel and Isabelle a broom- to bat off their source of panic. And that source is a fat Persian cat who is hissing, claws exposed, teeth bared.

"Is that a cat?" I ask, looking over at Mom who has paled.

"Oh no," Mom says quietly. "That's a spawn from the deepest pits of hell."

I watch as my mother sneaks around the Persian feline, a gardening tool in hand. Having it poised like a golf club, she bats the thing off and it rolls to a stop at Max's feet. The nine year old wraps it up in his arms, holding it tightly to his chest, smile on his face. "Mom, can I keep him?!"

The answer amongst the girls is unanimous. "No!" Clary and Iz jump down from Dad's work bench, staring at the cat with malevolent glares, eyes blazing in clear upset. Mom looks over at the girls, frowning. "You two go get cleaned up a bit. I'll be in with some first aid supplies in a moment's time." Mom lightly kisses both girls' hair, sending them inside before glaring at Max who smiles angelically at our mother.

"Maxwell, I'm not keeping that…that…that monstrosity inside of my home!" Mom exclaims.

"But I'll take good care of him! I'll make sure he doesn't tear the girls up- well Clary anyways," Max says, mumbling the last part. "I'll change his litter box and I'll feed him! I'll even give him a bath!"

Mom shakes her head. "I'm putting my foot down on this, Max. Pets are responsibility, son."

Max looks up at her, batting his long lashes, lower lip put into a pout. "Please, Mommy." Oh…that kid is good. Using the "Mommy" card to get the better of our mother- now that's sly. That sound like something Clary would pull on Mom by calling her "Mrs. Lightwood" or something of that type. "I'll take really good care of him!"

Mom, not able to deny Max, nods her head. "You can keep him, but so help me God if his litter box isn't cleaned or if he tears up the girls or my house, his furry blue butt goes to the pound. Do you understand me, Maxwell?"

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Max runs circles around Mom, holding the blue Persian cat in the air as if he's thanking God for the little flea bag. "I love you, Mom!" He scatters inside of the house, giggling wildly, talking to his newly adopted pet as if he were a person.

My eyes flicker to Mom and I smirk. "You did a really good job putting your foot down, Mother."

Mom glares at me. "Stop being a smartass. Go help Clary clean up and then you're to help Max with his beast."

"You can't be serious about that damn cat," I say, mouth hanging open.

"Oh, I am very serious, Alexander. Watch your language next time, too. Just because you're eighteen doesn't mean that I can't shove a bar of soap in your mouth," Mom says bitterly. With that she walks inside, grumbling about missing One Life to Live.

…

I throw the blue Persian onto Max's bed, the thing wrapped up securely in a white towel, fighting against his restraint. It's hissing, wriggling around violently, blood glistening on its teeth where it bit me. That thing is a monster with some kind of personal vendetta… "Next time you give that thing a bath." I sport off my bloody arms to Max who struggles not to laugh, holding the cat to his chest, instantly calming it.

Bloody bastard, I think, angry with the cat. I shoot the thing a dirty look and it hisses at me, wriggling around in its blanket. I walk out of Max's room, reaching inside of a bathroom for a towel and wipe the blood off my arms, irritated beyond belief that I had to give that damn cat a bath. As I stomp towards my room I take sight of Clary that stands in my doorway, wearing one of my shirts and a pair of yoga pants. Her face has been clawed to pieces by that demented cat, leaving it angry red and covered in several band-aids. Clary gives me a knowing look, gently taking me by the hand and pulls me inside of my room, directing me to sit down.

"I have a feeling of déjà-vu here…" Clary says sarcastically. She takes a wet cloth to my arms, running it over the scratches, occasionally dabbing cotton soaked alcohol along the cuts, making them sting.

I snicker, using my free hand to have her look up at me. I run my thumb across her cheek, offering a smile. "Damn cat tore up your pretty face." I smile triumphantly when a blush spreads across Clary's face, laughing gently. "Aww…I'm a flattering you, Ms. Morgenstern?"

Clary simply glares at me, continuing her business of making my arm a bit tidier. "Shut up or I'm dousing you in alcohol- burn your little ass up." She smiles at me, erupting into a fountain of giggles. Her emerald eyes flicker towards me, shining as bright as anything I've ever seen before.

I lean forwards, capturing her lips gently with mine. She gasps as though surprised, melting into the kiss after a few moments. She drops the bloody cloth to the floor, winding her skinny arms around my neck, pulling me close to her. I've never had a real kiss before- we've had the simple peck on the lips, but nothing like this. Not the blood-boiling and heart-racing kisses we've seen our friends locked into. I wind my arms around her, pushing her back onto the bed when there's the softest, most menacing hiss of our lives. Clary's eyes shoot open and she breaks away abruptly, heart pounding for the wrong reasons.

"Alec?" Clary asks.

I nod. "What is it?"

"That's not a pillow, is it?" Clary queries.

"No," I reply.

With one quick swipe Clary sends the Persian blue cat off the bed, the animal's shriek filling the air. It stands on my nightstand, hair raised, claws poised as to attack. Clary, with her bottle of rubbing alcohol and the bloody towel, threatens the furry creature until it springs. Max scatters into the room, screaming, jumping on the bed, making dives for the cat.

"Church! No! Bad cat! You're a bad cat!" Max screeches, holding the flailing beast against his chest.

Clary and I look at one another, eyebrows cocked. Clary chuckles, looking at the cat in Max's arms. "You're sure you want to name that thing Church? That would be breaking a testament against God or something…" She leans forwards, offering to pet the thing. It hisses, swiping profusely at her hand, nicking the skin in the process. Clary grabs it by the scruff of its neck, shaking it as a warning. "I'll kick your fluffy ass to Hong Kong- swipe at me; I dare you, freak beast."

Max glares at Clary. "You wouldn't hurt him."

Clary scoffs. "I'll do more than hurt him, little boy."

"I'd like to see you try, Morgenstern," Max says, walking from the room in careful strides, holding his cat that seems to laugh at Clary, snuggling into Max's chest.

Hope you guys liked! BTW, I have a story (Savior) being reposted here in the next few days. Check it out if you're interested when it becomes available!