Hey guys! I'm back (miss me?)

Anyhow, I wrote a new chapter. Which is pretty damn impressive, considering we're in the middle of a heatwave.

Okay, so I guess, onto the story!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own it. (Too lazy to make up something funny)

It was almost three in the morning, and the bar was completely deserted, save the seven of them and Diana –named after her mother- the 20 something year old who ran Diana's. It was a modernized Jazz bar, deep in the city, tucked inbetween a tattoo parlour and what looked like a 20th Century opium den.

The room was large and rectangular with a bar on the front wall, a stage in the back, left hand corner and booths lining almost every other available wall space. The entire place was a mixture of dark, honey toned woods and azure walls, riddled with old posters. Right at that moment, as was previously mentioned, it was almost empty, but up until about an hour or so ago it had been filled to the brim with people of all different ages. The stage had been occupied by two young saxophone players and a middle aged woman on the bass guitar, and the room had been encompassed by the sound of laughter and music and the smell of cigarette smoke.

"What on earth are they doing?" Now, Clary and Annabelle, who were all seated in a booth off to the side, turned to see what Isabelle seemed so surprised about, and what she did see was definitely worthy of the raven haired girl's reaction.

Somebody had put a Katy Perry mix tape in an old stereo on the bar, and it was currently blasting "Teenage Dream" through the room. There, in the middle of the floor was Jace, Sam, Simon and Dexter, dancing in the most ridiculous style she had ever seen in her life. And that was saying something, considering that she had seen Luke freestyle at her mother's wedding.

Clary laughed and watched as the group of teenage boys –who may or may not have had a tad too much to drink- jumped up and down in time to the music and demonstrated a series of incredibly lame and extremely outdated dance moves, including "The Sprinkler" and "The Dougie".

"Is this something they do often?" Clary pondered as Dexter and Sam performed a nicely synchronized- and surprisingly well orchestrated- "moon walk".

"Dexter doesn't do it often." Anny explained, chewing on a straw, "Only when he's drunk. Sam, however, does it on a regular basis. In fact," She looked towards the group wistfully and smiled, "This reminds me very much of my senior prom."

Izzy laughed, "Really?"

"Yeah. He can be quite flamboyant. I think its part of his whole gay pride thing." Clary looked up curiously as the CD clicked to the next track, and they were blasted with "Last Friday Night".

"Sam's gay?" The blonde girl shrugged.

"Bisexual, whatever, same difference." Isabelle glanced at the two dancing friends, then back at Annabelle.

"Does Dexter have a problem with it?" The older girl looked surprised.

"No. Why would he?"

"Why would anyone?"

"Good point." She shrugged again, "I don't think it's really a big deal to him, you know? Dexter doesn't really think about these types of things a lot; like, to Dexter, it's just another part of Sam, like the fact that he has red hair or that he can't ride a bike. It's just... Sam. It's part of who he is."

This made sense to Clary. She hadn't known him an awfully long time, but Dexter didn't seem to her to be the type of person that would make a big deal out of someone's personality and-slash-or sexuality. Although she supposed you could never really tell what someone was like until you were in a situation where you were faced to confront it, but there was just something about Dexter. He seemed to see things in a simpler light than a lot of people did.

And he didn't seem to have any problem at all, seeing as both he and the redheaded boy were busting out more freestyle moves to Katy Perry's "Peacock."

The night ran on, and before they knew it Diana told them they had to leave. It was near five in the morning, and she had to close up and get home in time to wake her daughter up for Summer school.

They bid her farewell and walked outside onto the curb.

Dexter pulled his keys out of his pocket, holding them out to Annabelle.

"My lady," He drawled, swaying slightly on his feet, "While I would gladly take the reins and ride us all off into the sunset, I feel that I am not in the state to do so. Therefore, you must take this burden from my shoulders, and perform the task." Anny smiled and took the keys off him.

"Well," Jace remarked, throwing an arm over his biological brothers shoulders, "Aren't you Mister Responsible tonight."

"Mmm," Clary looked at them, amused, as the two started off down the path, towards the car. "I'm Mister Reckless with a capital R." Jace looked at him.

"That is the exact opposite of what I just said."

"I know."

XXX

The house was quiet when they returned back.

Everyone must be asleep, Clary thought as she all but dropped Jace onto a mattress in the hallway upstairs. There hadn't been anymore beds available, so Anny had dragged a spare mattress out from the basement. He would be fine there, she knew. Simon and Sam had already fallen asleep on the couches in the living room downstairs, barely having made it past the front door.

You would think that his being a vampire would have made Simon more resilient to alcohol.

Apparently not.

Sighing, she reached down and tucked the blankets around her almost sleeping boyfriend. He reached out and took her hand, placing it against his cheek. She smiled and gently rubbed the space under his eye with her thumb. He smiled and hummed to himself, a happy, satisfied hum.

"I love you Clary," He slurred, groggily. This caused her to feel almost manically happy, despite the simplicity of the message.

"I know," She told him. "I love you too."

And with that she pulled away, a bit reluctantly, tiptoeing her way into Annabelle's room, were Izzy was already sleeping.

XXX

"And that is why I refuse to watch 'Two and a Half Men'." Dexter finished, sounding pleased with himself.

"That's nice," Anny put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit down on the side of the bed with a small "Oof".

He flopped back onto the bed, lying down with his legs still dangling over the side. Anny caught hold of one of his shoes, which he was swinging around; thumping them against the side of the bed the way children thump their feet on the side of a stage.

Holding the shoe firmly in one hand, she began to untie the already loose laces, pulling the shoe off of his foot. She went to catch the other one, which was still swinging relentlessly, while Dexter jabbered on in the background.

Once she finally got both his shoes off, she gave him a light slap on his shin.

"C'mon." She said, "Time to go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired." She sighed, again.

"Yes you are, you just don't want to go to bed."

"Yes. That is exactly what i don't want to do."

"Dexter, it's late." She tried reasoning with him. It was about this time she started to miss sober Dexter. He might be grumpy and blunt, but at least he was reasonable.

"Fine," The dark haired boy grumbled, rolling onto the bed so his head was where his feet were supposed to be. Oh well – it was good enough.

Annabelle plucked the glasses from his face and began pulling the blankets out from under him. She looked back up to see a shirtless Dexter fiddling with his belt, his clumsy hands having a difficult time locating the buckle. When he finally managed to get it off, he unbuttoned his jeans and began kicking them off. It was quite a sight to see, and if she hadn't been so tired, she would have laughed.

Luckily for her, she was almost certain that Dexter had reverted to full time boxer wearing in their freshman year of high school, so she didn't have to see anything the she didn't particularly want to.

She tucked the blanket around him, said goodnight and turned to walk away, but felt a warm hand grip around wrist, halting her progress.

"What is it Dexter?" She was tired. She felt as if she might pass out any minute. Izzy and Clary were already asleep in her bed, and she was sure that she and Dexter were the only two people awake in the house.

"Stay with me for a bit?" His voice was muffled; his face pressed against the mattress.

"Dexter-" He cut her off.

"Please?" She looked at him, feeling herself giving in. She didn't think it was possible for her to say no to him. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, so youthful; it reminded her of when they were children, and they would stay the night at each other's houses, talking long into the night until they both fell asleep. Or maybe it was that she knew that if things were the other way around, he would have done it for her.

She sat down on the bed next to him.

"Alright. Five minutes, okay?" Though she knew that was a load of rubbish. He smiled into the mattress, and she stroked his hand with her thumb.

She looked down at his bare back, and at the black tattoo printed there. The room was dark, but the light from the moon and the street lights streamed in through the window, spilling white light around them. She remembered the day he started it; on impulse, three days after graduation.

The truth was she hadn't had the chance to have a proper look at it, Dexter being the type of person who usually preferred to keep his shirt on. She found herself curious, now that she was seeing it up close.

She'd always assumed it was a fairly straightforward design; a black tree, long, thin trunk that stretched all the way from the line of his jeans to the bottom of his shoulder blades, where it spread out onto different branches, lacing over the upper left side of his back. Now, seeing it up close, she saw two new things she hadn't really cared to notice before.

The first thing she saw was that it was actually very beautiful. There was a delicacy and intricateness to the print that she hadn't noticed before.

The second thing she noticed was that it wasn't just a tree. There were letters written in black ink, outlining the trunk. She studied them, curiously, tracing them with her finger – Dexter, it seemed, was completely at ease.

As she was studying the words, she suddenly realised what they were. The first set of letters spelled Grace. His mother. The second was a set of initials; S.O.B. She smiled. Samuel Oscar Bracken.

She reached the third set of letters and felt her throat tighten and her eyes burn. It wasn't a set of Initials, but a full name.

Annabelle Lenore Winston.

She wasn't sure why the gesture forced such a reaction out of her. Perhaps she was just tired.

But there was something about it that made her an odd mixture of sad and happy at the same time. She wondered why he hadn't told her. Maybe he was embarrassed. Or maybe he just didn't want her to know. She knew him; knew how private he could be about certain things.

She felt a tugging around her waist, and didn't resist when Dexter pulled her down next to him. He dug his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something incoherent to her.

She felt that maybe she ought to pull away, but she was so tired, and her thoughts seemed to be covered by a blanket of haziness. She wasn't thinking straight.

Or maybe she just didn't want to. Maybe there was a part of her that never wanted to let Dexter go; the same part of her that wasn't to see his face first thing every morning, and last thing every night before she went to sleep.

Either way, it was late. She could already see evidence of the sun in the slight green tinge to the edges of a topaz sky.

She curled up, her hand still in Dexter's, and closed her eyes.

I know it's a bit short. Sorry if some of it doesn't make sense. I'm feeling a bit like Annabelle right now.

I hope you thought the Anny/Dexter scene was cute. I did.

A bit of fluff in there. Hope you liked that. Not much Clace, I know. Hopefully some more soon. Some big plot development next chappie. We're definitely heading towards the climax of the story, soon the end.

Sorry about any typos/nonsense. It's 2 in the morning. I'm really tired.

Thanks for reading! Please R&R.

Please though. I need the reviews to live.

TO LIVE OR NOT TO LIVE. THAT IS THE QUESTION.

Love, Beth.