Eleven

Clary was having a nice dream, she was in a park with an attractive boy, he was smiling at her and his eyes were so gold-

She was jerked rudely away from the pleasant scene by a hand on her shoulder, she cried out and her Shadowhunter training took over. Before she was even fully awake she'd sat up, the dagger she'd placed under her pillow the night before already in her hand, and slashed wildly at the indistinct figure sitting on her bed. It gave a masculine cry of indignation and clamped a strong, calloused hand over her wrist, preventing further attacks. After a moment her would-be victim came into focus, it was Jace.

"You tried to stab me." He said accusingly.

There was barely any light in the room, "What time is it?" asked Clary dumbly.

He shrugged, "Five-ish."

"In the morning?" her voice shot up a few octaves with her outrage, "I wish I had stabbed you!"

"I told you not to wake her up." Jonathan was standing in the doorway, looking completely alert and very amused. Jace glared at him, "You told me she'd be grumpy, you didn't tell me she'd try to impale innocent bystanders!"

Clary glared at him, jerking her wrist from the loose grip he still maintained on it, "As far as I'm concerned anyone who wakes someone up at five in the morning could never be considered innocent!"

He shook his head at her, "I thought you had shadowhunter training, we all wake up this early, your brother did."

Jonathan laughed, Clary glared at him, he was enjoying this too much. "Yeah, the one thing mom actually wants us to take away from training and Clary refuses to learn, you should see the ordeal we have to go through to get her up at eight to get ready for school."

Jace snorted, "You go to school? As in Mundane school?"

"Well not right now, it's holidays, but yes, what else would we do all day?" Clary reasoned.

Jace rolled his eyes, "What every other Shadowhunter in the history of the world does, train."

"Mom and Luke have mundane jobs, there isn't anyone at home during the day."

He looked like he was about to say something else, but changed tack at the last moment, "So what's school like?"

Clary rolled her eyes, "Hideously boring, I like art class though."

"What kind of stuff do you learn?"

"We learn a lot about mundane history, mathematics, English. The fun stuff." She screwed her nose up.

Jonathan cleared his throat, Clary jumped and sat back, she hadn't realised how close they'd been leaning toward one another. Jace stood "Right, get ready quick."

"Right," she said in the same carefully controlled voice, "Get out."

For a moment Jace stared at her in bewilderment and hurt, and then Jonathan spoke up, "She needs to get changed." His tone was light but the glare he was giving Jace conveyed an obvious warning.

Both boys stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Ten minutes later Clary stepped out after them, freshly showered and wearing yet another jeans-and-singlet ensemble. Jace glanced at her, "Took you long enough."

Jonathan snorted, "For Clary that was incredibly fast." She kicked him in the shin then turned to Jace, "So, you'd better have a good reason to get me up at this ungodly hour."

He gave her a devilish grin that made her heart race, "Of course, we're going to train, time to see what you're made of Morgenstern."

Clary had to admit, the training room was incredible, sparring dummies and targets lined the walls, with plenty of space cleared in the middle for hand to hand combat, and ladders and planks crisscrossing mid-air for balance practice, she supposed they would have harnesses as well, so they could practice turns, falls and somersaults without the danger of getting hurt. In one corner there were a few benches, which was where Alec and Isabelle were sitting, Clary made to move toward them but Jace snagged her arm, "Sorry Clary, you're with me."

Obviously, he meant sparring, but Clary wondered why he chose her first, was he deliberately trying to stop her from observing his fighting style, or was he curious about her abilities? Maybe he was just looking for instant gratification and figured she'd be an easy target, the latter seemed most likely. But there was no way in hell Clary was going down without a fight; she was going to win this.

They stopped in the centre of the room and faced one another; Clary hadn't seen much of Jace's fighting skills, but enough to know he was an impatient person, someone who liked things happening, and someone who would make the first move. Sure enough, as soon as Isabelle called go, there was no circling or sizing up, Jace just lunged. But Clary had lived sixteen years of having only one sparring partner, Jonathan, it had taught her a thing or two. She could tell by Jace's eyes that he'd expected this fight to end quickly, she'd wager they usually did. You never knew just how fast someone was until you faced them yourselves, his speed would catch most opponents off-guard and the fight would be over before it began; but Clary wasn't most opponents. When Isabelle had yelled go, Clary had moved too, a quick sidestep that bought her out of range of Jace's attack. Encountering no resistance from her he stumbled, making it all too easy for the round-house kick Clary sent his way to send him to the floor. He was up almost instantly and for a while they traded blows, Jace's surprise at being bested, however temporarily, gave Clary the upper hand for a short time, but he was quickly regaining his rhythm. When she was mere minutes away from being taken down Clary decided it was time for another unexpected move. She grinned at Jace then turned and ran. It was such a random and senseless thing to do, that for a moment Jace just stood there and watched, which was all the head start she needed. She threw herself at one of the ladders, climbing to one of the higher-most balance beams. Once she reached the top she barely had time to turn before Jace was on her again, instantly she realised her mistake. This was Jace's element, he'd probably been training on these things since he could walk, not to mention the fact that if he did fall off he'd probably be fine, Clary on the other hand? Not so much. She needed to get her feet back on the ground. She risked a glance down, a few metres below was another beam, exactly what she needed. Clary stepped neatly off the beam she was standing on but only fell for a second before she came to a jarring halt, hanging in mid-air. Jace had reached out and caught the back of her shirt, he was kneeling on the beam and Clary had seconds at best before he pulled her back up and then it would all be over.

She pressed her fingertips against the material of her shirt, already strained by the combined force of gravity and her own weight; then she dug them in and pulled. The fabric ripped like paper and Clary dropped to the beam below. Jace gave a startled yell as her weight suddenly disappeared from his hand, causing him to overbalance. But she didn't spare him a second thought, she ran lightly along the beam the dropped down to the next one, continuing like that until she reached the last beam. Clary threw herself down those last four metres to the ground, rolling as she hit to absorb the impact of her fall. Then she stood and waited, a second later Jace landed, he's simply jumped from the top beam and her ripped shirt was still clutched in his hand. He turned to her and froze, his eyes widening and a slow blush creeping across his skin, Clary didn't pause to wonder at his distraction, she just attacked.

She swept her leg low, knocking his from underneath him than leaped, straddling him lightly she pressed both fists on his chest in an unmistakable gesture, 'if I'd had a knife, you'd be dead.' She met Jace's eyes, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth and stalled, his facial expression was not one of a person who'd just been handed a humiliating defeat.

Without the cold, single-mindedness of battle Clary was able to look back over the last few minutes with dawning horror, she'd ripped her shirt; Jace was actually holding it right now, which meant she wasn't wearing a shirt! No boy had ever seen her shirtless before and now here she was, sitting on one, Jace no less, who was the most gorgeous boy she'd ever seen, and who was also, practically a stranger, and she was in her bra. And to make matters worse, his own shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing a band of golden muscle, as if she needed anything to make her blush harder.

A pair of strong hands grabbed her and pulled her up, which she was grateful for, since humiliation appeared to have frozen her joints. Alec and Isabelle were roaring with laugher and when she met Jonathan's gaze, who was of course to one who had rescued her, his lips were curved as well. His expression softened slightly at the look of panic in Clary's eyes, "I thought as much," he shook his head, "you know you're completely insane right?"

He sighed, pulled his shirt off and dragged it down over Clary's head. Isabelle's voice came, in between fits of laugher, "Is there some kind of a stripping game going on that I don't know about?"

Clary's face, if possible, got even redder. Jonathan called back, "No, I just think it's more important that Clary's wearing a shirt than me, you know how teenage boys are, massive pervs." The last line was delivered with a poisonous glare at Jace, Clary just stared stoically at her feet, wishing desperately that glamours worked against Shadowhunters. What she wouldn't give to be invisible right now. Jonathan squeezed her arm, "Maybe you should go and get changed." She nodded and turned, using every ounce of her willpower to stop herself from running from the room, silently contemplating the logistics of fleeing the country.