A/N: I'm SO sorry for not updating. I just went through something...big and life changing. It's been hard, but I have a couple people who have been supporting me.

So, there's a lot of romace in this chapter, I won't say for who...but you do get a sneak peak of a new character to this story!

Chapter 10: Safe In Your Arms

Isabelle gripped the tube of lipstick in her hand. Sighing, she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were dark and smoky and her lips were a deep, blood red. All in all, she looked like herself. She looked like a heartbreaker.

Slowly, she placed the lipstick in her bag for touch ups. She couldn't remember making the plan to go out, but here she was, getting ready to leave with no destination in mind. That was classic Isabelle. Living in the now, not thinking about the future. That was her motto. Well, after "Nothing less than seven inches," which could be applied to more than one thing.

She smirked. She was definitely going to get seven inches tonight.

The doorbell rang just as Isabelle was fastening her earrings. She hurriedly clasped the right ear and sped down the stairs, confusion settling in her mind. Jace was very occupied, Alec was out, and she definitely wasn't expecting anyone.

Simon Lewis stood on the other side of the door. Her heart gave a little kick. His eyes were wide and dark behind the wire-rimmed lenses. "Hey," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, a habit of his. Isabelle wondered whether he was aware of it. "Jon said Clary was here, so I figured she was talking to Jace." He nodded his head towards the stairs. "How's it going?"

Isabelle shrugged. "she just went into his room. It could either end really well, or really badly. Either way, I don't want to be here when they come to a solution."

Simon raised a brow. "So, you're running." He casted his eyes up. "Of course."

Anger flared from her stomach. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Simon stepped in, startling Isabelle with his boldness. His eyes grew darker. "It means you're scared of emotions," he said. "Right now, you just want to get laid and move on."

"I just want to have fun." Isabelle's fury burst through the dams. "I'm not some sappy romantic—"

"Look, I'm not here to argue." Simon stepped back. "And I'm not here to judge. I was here for Clary, but she's fine. So, you're going out. Can I come with you?"

Since Simon had shown up on her doorstep, he'd been surprising Isabelle. Simon was always the geeky, quiet sidekick. Isabelle didn't do nerds. Her type was tall, dark, athletic. Not scrawny and quiet. "I don't think the club is really your scene."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Nothing's really my scene, Izzy." He looked at her dead-on. "So, can I?"

She surprised herself by nodding and moving aside. "Come in. Let me finish getting ready."

"I've never been in here," Clary said. It was the first thing she'd said since knocking on his door. Jace was pulled out of his trance by the rhythmic sound of her voice. She was looking around his room in awe. "It's so...clean. I mean, Jon likes things neat, but you bring OCD to a new level."

Jace wasn't sure how to respond to that. He wasn't sure where to look, and he wasn't sure what to do. His uncertainty must've shown on his face, because Clary pat the bed beside her. "You can sit," she said.

Jace did as she said and lowered himself onto the bed. His fingers laid inches from hers. He'd only have to slip, and he'd be touching her.

Jace glanced over at her. Tension spanned her body, from her shoulders down. She was fighting to not be scared, but he knew she was terrified. So was he.

Impulsively, Jace covered her hand with his. Clary relaxed almost immediately. Finally, he spoke up. "I'm sorry." He was stunned that his voice wasn't shaking. It certainly wanted to. "I'm sorry for taking your sketchbook. I'm sorry for hurting you."

Clary shook her head. "Don't be," she said. "I mean, I'm still planning on killing you for taking my sketchbook."

"I'll hand you the gun," he promised. Clary cracked a smile. They were silent once again. That was one bullet dodged. And now... "So, some things were said," Jace said.

"You don't think with your dick, by the way. And...I understand if you want to take back everything," Clary covered quickly. "I won't hold you to—"

"Would you just let me finish?" Jace rolled his eyes. "I just want you to know that everything I said was true." Clary choked on a gasp, covering it with a cough. "I like you more than I've let on and I want to be with you. If you'll have me, of course."

His words sounded so eloquent, so foreign to him.

Clary's lips formed a small smile. "Of course I want you." She spoke with her natural volume. "Honestly, did you not figure that out already?"

Jace raised his hands in a surrender motion. "Girls are confusing. It'd honestly be a lot easier to date guys. No, I take it back. Girls—"

"Wow, you're really trying to win me over." Sarcasm leaked from her voice.

Jace smirked, entwining their fingers. "Hey, if you want me, you get all of me. Including my—"

"Already, you're insufferable," Clary muttered.

Jace laughed. "Now you get it." He leaned in, capturing her lips with his. His hand gently cupped the back of her head, tangling into her hair. Clary hooked an arm around his neck, drawing him closer. He was marveled by the way her lips moved against him softly. Her underlying scent of roses lingered against the taste of spearmint. He had no agenda when it came to her. He wanted her closer, closer than any other girl. His other hand came up to brush against her cheekbones, skim along her cheek, and rest on her neck. It felt good. It felt right.

Jace rested his forehead against hers. His gold eyes met her emerald ones. The passion in them was unmistakable. And it was all for him

"I guess this makes things official," Jace commented.

"Really?" Clary smirked. "You don't just go around kissing everyone? Who knew."

Jace grinned and pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm not a man-slut," Jace protested.

"You mean, not anymore?" Clary raised her brows. "Because I definitely remember when—"

"Okay, that's enough." The tips of Jace's cheekbones flared pink. "So, are you sure you want this?"

Clary skimmed her fingertips against his chest. Her eyes focused on the fabric right above his heart. It was a leap of faith. Two months ago, she wouldn't have even considered touching Jace, let alone kissing him. It was reckless of her to even consider this. But her heart was telling her to go for it. It thrashed wildly against her solid ribcage, urging her on. She leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, letting his warmed seep into her. "Yeah," she said. "I'm sure."

Alec hadn't really ever been alone at night before four months ago. He was usually in someone's shadow, not knowing what to do. It was strange, but suddenly he felt open. He felt free.

His hands were shoved in his pocket, turning the balled-up slip of paper around with his fingers absently. He kept stopping at every crossing, wondering whether he was doing the right thing. It wasn't the first time he second-guessed himself, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He knew he would do that for the rest of his life. Unless something changed.

But that was why he was in Brooklyn at nearly midnight. His black sneakers hit the pavement at a careful pace. He pawed along with the grace of a feline, but as dark as the night.

The street outside the brownstone was deserted. He remembered the first time he came, fumbling around for the minuscule piece of paper that held a name and address. It soon became the most important name and address.

Slowly, Alec climbed the concrete steps, looking around in fascination. The only outdoor decor consisted of pearlescent lights strung around the patio, giving a dream-like quality to the still night. His fingers brushed against the jewel-encrusted knocker. It used to be his only way in, but now, it was reminder that he was always welcome. He fished around for the key, sighing when the cool metal pressed against his fingertips. He unlocked the door and crept into the flat.

The inside was far more exciting than the outside. Multicolored futons and pillows were scattered around with little rainbow lights winking at him from every corner. Everything was glitter-covered, something Alec would've hated half a year ago. He found it endearing now.

He slipped up the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake the inhabitant. He wouldn't hear the end of it if he did.

The sound of light snores welcomed him when he entered the room. Magnus Bane was spread out of the bed. A book was turned over on his tan chest, and the lamp was on. Alec slid himself under the silk sheets after shedding his shirt and jeans. The weight on his chest lifted. This was the place where he was an equal. The shadows feared him. He was no one's lacky. He was home.

"Alexander?" Magnus' sleepy voice filled the air between him.

Alec pressed a soft kiss to Magnus' lips. "Go to sleep." He reached over and flicked the lamp off. "Sorry for waking you."

"Don't be," Magnus said, laying his arm across Alec's chest. He kissed Alec's pale skin. "I missed you."

Alec smiled slightly. So, this was what it was like to feel loved. It was empowering. It felt good.

He settled into the covers, pulling the comforter over them both. He ran his fingers through Magnus' hair, relishing in its softness. He was Alec's greatest secret. He kissed Magnus' forehead once more. "I missed you," he whispered to the night.

The plan was in motion.

Jonathan grinned childishly. He felt like a Bond villain. Well, maybe not a Bond villain. More like Dr. Evil. He wished he had a cat to complete the feeling.

"Jonathan?" Jocelyn Morgenstern popped her head into the room. Her auburn hair fell into her face, nearly obscuring one green eye. Jonathan sat up. "Yeah, Mom?"

"It's time for dinner." She looked around his room. "Where's Clary?"

Jon shrugged. "She said something about being at Isabelle's, I don't know. I'm not her babysitter."

His mother looked at him disapprovingly. "You're her older brother. You need to...why am I wasting my breath? Come down."

Jon rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll be down in a minute."

Jocelyn shot him one last glance before going back into the kitchen. Sighing, Jonathan pushed himself off of the bed. He was going to win.

He felt it.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it!

What do you guys think Jonathan's plan will be? TBH, it's still up in the air. I kinda don't have a set idea of what I'm going to do, so anything you guys say will be helpful!