"What does yours say?"
Clary pursed her lips, folding her fortune in on itself and hiding it behind one hand. "Aren't we supposed to keep it a secret? Otherwise it might not come true."
"That's a load of bull. What would it matter?" Jace asked, with a snicker.
"More to the point, they're just a bunch of cookie cutter sayings printed out again and again and distributed to the masses. They don't mean anything to anyone in particular. It's just the luck of the draw, as to which one you happen to get. And don't they all seem to say the same thing?" It was a fairly long dissertation for Isabelle, and Alec choked on a too-big bite of fortune cookie.
"Mine sounded right," he pointed out, after clearing his throat.
"Let me see it," Jace said, holding out his hand. Clary gave Alec a look of warning, clearly not ready to abandon her superstition. But Alec picked up the small slip of paper and slid it over, before taking a swig of soda to soothe his throat.
"Hot warlock action in store for you, young warrior," Jace 'read' from the slip, causing Alec to choke on soda as well. Isabelle laughed, and while Clary smacked Jace's arm playfully, she couldn't help but smile a little.
"Shut up," Alec croaked snatching the fortune back. "That's not what it says."
"What does it say?" Isabelle asked, picking apart the rest of her eggroll.
"Our greatest battles are that with our own minds," Alec read, shooting Jace a look. Would that have been so hard?
"That's deep," Clary replied, clearly trying to process it.
"That's depressing," Jace drawled, cracking his fortune cookie open just to get to the slip of paper. He wasn't planning on eating it.
"What about yours?" Clary asked, trying to lean in and take a peek. He jerked his hand away, tsking.
"Bad luck, remember? I want to keep this one."
Clary made a face, sitting back in her chair. "Fine. Then I won't tell you mine."
"Fair enough."
"I'm full," Isabelle announced, pushing her plate further away as if the remaining food offended her.
"Me too," Alec agreed, swirling the last of his soda.
"I'm tired," Clary yawned, stretching her small arms over her head.
"That was good," Alec commented belatedly. It was a nice meal. And he also liked the conversation, being able to just sit down with the rest of the family and relax. It was great that they could still do that.
It allowed them to forget for the moment that mom and dad were in Alicante hunting a rogue warlock, to recoup from a long day of training and fighting and tension that had been building between them. It seemed to have resolved now, though. If they could sit around and joke about their futures, then everything must be OK again.
"I love MSG," Jace teased, licking his lower lip, tasting soy sauce.
"MSG?" Alec inquired, brow creased.
"I don't know what it stands for, but I sure it'll give you cancer."
"Everything gives you cancer now," Isabelle retorted, rolling her eyes.
"Cell phones, microwaves, tap water," Clary considered, rattling off the things she'd read in school.
"Cell phones give you cancer?" Alec replied, sounding concerned.
"That's just a theory," Isabelle mused. "I'm sure there's lots of evidence for both sides. And it's not going to stop me from using mine."
"I need to call my mom," Clary remembered, reaching for her cell and getting up.
"I'm going to take a shower," Isabelle decided. All this talk of cancer made her feel dirty. She needed to exfoliate.
Jace didn't bother explaining where he was going, just got up, pushed his chair back and headed off with one of the unopened sodas.
Alec stared at the vacated table for a minute, planning his next move. It was only eight o'clock. Magnus had said to come over anytime, but he probably figured Alec wouldn't be able to "break away" until ten or eleven at the earliest. He always came over late.
What if he was still busy? What if he had company?
What are you going to do, if not? Wait around here for several hours and try not to fall asleep? There's no point in that.
Alec had to agree with his inner voice. It was go now, or not tonight. And he had promised Magnus he would come over.
So he pushed back his chair and headed for his room, just long enough to grab his cell, his keys, his stele, and his coat.