He seemed engrossed by the frost on the large windows facing North Campus. It was Core Math 101, a basic undergrad requirement and not particularly interesting. At least it was his last class today as the darkening skies that loomed outside seemed to attest the day's end. He had finally made arrangements to meet his Grandmother for an early evening tea and while that upcoming event brought a cringing anxiety he knew that was not the real source of the disquiet that permeated his day.

He always dreaded the moment when they parted in the mornings, when he dropped her off at Alicante High School and he headed off to the University but today there was an added sense of dread, that there was something hanging over their heads, ready to smother them. It bothered him to see the way she strained to be cheerful around him. He could see the stress and worry she tried so hard to disguise on her face.

Only two months had passed since their reunion on Thanksgiving Day but it felt like so much more time had passed with a whirlwind of events that should have extended over years. Sometimes he wondered how any of it was possible. How did he wake up one day, ready for Senior Year at a new high school only to learn that the year had already elapsed, that he who had long accepted and in fact to some degree appreciated his inability to form a romantic attachment to any girl given he considered it a fool's proposition was now completely enthralled by a living teenage goddess, that he would soon be a father to her unborn child, that his life's duty to serve and exalt the Herondale name was no longer his mission or even open to him, that he would now have to plot out a new unknown future which included the care of said goddess and offspring? In truth, he hardly had any time to ponder these myriad changes to his life. He was too busy dealing with the day to day challenges of this new and completely alien life ahead of him.

He still questioned why he was even enrolled at the university except that Clary had insisted. He had not wanted to spend any more of the funds he had socked away from his Grandmother's reach. The care that she and their son would require was his priority now and he had fully intended to find some employment, even getting as far as an offer at a car dealership but she wouldn't hear of it. She was adamant that he complete college, get his degree at least and make some informed decision on a 'real' career choice. He thought her stubborn and opinionated within twenty four hours after they first met and the more time they spent together the more he realized that had hardly scratched the surface. There was an indomitable will behind her exquisite beauty and when it was fueled by some instinct to protect and defend others it could not be overturned. He tried to argue, explain it didn't matter, it was just a job, a temporary means to provide for them, but she could not be convinced it would be anything but a dead end for him that would sap away his life. And to be honest, he knew they should have enough to comfortably provide for them and afford his university tuition but he had never had to consider how much he spent much less manage a family budget.

It was ludicrous that he had been so well groomed to oversee a business worth billions and was in truth already familiar enough with those operations that he could confidently examine a construction budget for millions with insight and expertise but had no idea what to buy and how much to spend on weekly groceries. Then there was the awkward living arrangements. Alex's warnings against returning to the house his grandfather left him seemed pointless once he knew Clary was his life and he was hers, that they could not be divided. He had tried to persuade her to move in with him there. It was larger and more comfortable than her aunt's home. She could even have her own studio space for painting and there was a perfect room close to the master bedroom they could convert into a nursery. But she was noncommittal and she didn't seem ready to detach from her childhood residence although she had quite a bit of her things at the larger abode she always had some reason why she needed to return to her Aunt's place and of course he could not spend a night without her so they would cram into her tiny bed which he actually secretly enjoyed since they had to entwine and enfold so thoroughly into each other. There was no room to manage sleeping in that bed together otherwise but sitting at the breakfast table, across from her Aunt Hodge's baleful glare was a decidedly gloomy affair and there was simply no space to afford any privacy. Still there was nothing better than holding her, limbs wrapped around each other, as they fell asleep and then waking up with her nestled in his arms, her beautiful face so peaceful, without a care, those soft red curls cushioning their faces like a fiery cloud.

She was obviously pregnant now. There was no hiding the growing life in her burgeoning belly. She moved clumsily and complained of aches and pains, swelling feet and a wolfish appetite. She was prone to fits of giggles at the sight of her aunt's meatloaf to tear wringing sobbing over an iphone commercial. He had never been so besotted. Their lovemaking did not abate but it had become a routine occurrence and was almost always managed very gently and slowly except when she forced a more driving pace which happened less frequently now. As much as he tried to restrain himself he could never resolve himself against her determined onslaught. They had a pattern; in the mornings right after they woke up, in the afternoons once they reunited after their daily activities separated them, again before dinner and then before they succumbed to sleep at night, unconscious in each other's arms. Even though he struggled to stay calm and controlled throughout their joining, he was still surprised by the intensity of the flooding release of pleasure. It was just as amazing if not better than those first two weeks when they couldn't get enough of each other and they were practically attached at all times.

It got harder to let her leave his sight, to know she was out there with God knows what lurking danger around her and him not by her side to protect her. He had tried to explain it to her, after suggesting he would return to High School with her. After all, he didn't remember what he learned that final year so there was some logic for him to redo his Senior Year. She responded with a snort, quite certain nobody remembered any classwork from Senior Year and the school would certainly not allow the Valedictorian to come back for a do-over. So when he disclosed his real concerns in an admittedly halting and confused rambling she only shook her head at him as if he were crazy, which he had enough sense to realize he probably did have a few loose marbles, and told him he was being ridiculous. And then that she loved him. She would say this so often and so freely that he almost began to accept it. He could even feel a warmth surge through him when she spoke these dooming words but he couldn't entirely stop his automatic reaction to stamp down on the desire to reciprocate and tell her the same.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had not realized class had ended and the room was almost empty.

"Hi Jace, looks like you're zoning out there."

"Hey, Aline," Jace nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'm a little preoccupied." He got up and started to pack away his things.

"So, have you given any more thought to the training camp we talked about?"

Jace turned to her a bit dazed. She was small and compactly built and she exuded strength and confidence just by the way she stood. Her coloring was so much like Alex's, short straight dark hair, ivory skin, that he supposed these similarities in their appearance as well as the resilient energy they both possessed made him almost immediately comfortable around her. They had this Math class together as well as a class on American History: A Study of National Defense, Security and Strategy. He wasn't sure what he would do with the information gained from this class but something about the course description interested him and he blandly reasoned it would fill some required credits toward his degree. It had actually turned out to be his favorite class this semester. He looked forward to the twice a week sessions and the lively debates that almost always ensued during class with Aline.

Jace knew Aline had plans to pursue a career in government, possibly FBI, CIA. She mentioned these possibilities broadly when Professor Stanley interrupted one of their class monopolizing verbal sparring sessions over the merits and disadvantages of drone technology to inquire what the two of them intended to do with their college degrees. Nobody seemed surprised by Aline's declaration but there was a strange silence when Jace answered he didn't know. After that, Aline seemed to make it her mission to vociferously explain a citizen's civic duties when he or she possessed the abilities to contribute to the nation's safety or to corner Jace after class prodding him to consider her own career path and then pressuring him to join her in a training course that incorporated elements of physical combat, individual and team attack maneuvers. Aline said it was a very small, exclusive group of trainees, not more than five people, normally handpicked by the instructor who it turned out was her own mother. So, it seemed she had an 'in' to this highly selective training camp and at first when Aline described the program, her mother's background in confidential elite government forces, Jace had been interested and even felt an unfamiliar spark of excitement at the prospect. He didn't know why it intrigued him. It was so far from any future he had ever envisioned but he couldn't deny it just felt like something he could do … and do well. But then, Aline went on with more details. It was a twenty week program that entailed a daily three hour regimen and he regretfully declined.

Another three hours a day would mean more than twelve hours separated from Clary during the normal weekdays with a full course load of classes and the loss of their weekends that they never spent apart, every hour almost entirely dedicated to each other. Despite the overwhelming twists and turns his life had taken since she entered his life, he knew she had become the center of his universe.

"You know it starts in another two week and my mother agreed to keep a spot open for you." Aline watched him intently. "That was no easy task."

"You shouldn't have done that," Jace answered with a shake of his head. He had trouble meeting her eyes, though. He knew he could not keep the regret entirely out of his own eyes and he realized she would not give up as long as she could see this internal struggle. She was hardly letting it go as it was.

"I know that, Jace," she said sternly. "But I also now you could really be great. I think you'll regret passing this up. I think we might all regret it."

Jace sighed. She was nothing if not tenacious. "I don't know why you'd think that. The only thing you know about me is that I'm good at arguing with you."

Aline eyed him thoughtfully. "Don't let it get to your head but I've been watching you. I know you're strong and smart and most importantly you've got a knack for this."

"For what?" he asked perplexed.

Aline smirked at him, "for fighting … for battling, for warfare."

Jace gaped at her. "You're nuts. I don't have the slightest clue where you'd get that idea."

"Oh come on, Jace," she slouched back onto a desk, facing him with her arms crossed over her chest but she looked always ready to move, ready to counter any opposition, never off guard.

Jace wondered vaguely why he came up with this observation and then shrugged it off.

"I've seen you sparring in the ring," she continued knowingly.

He goggled at her before recovering. "So what? I'm just dicking around in there."

"Exactly," she answered and then stood up straight. "You're just 'dicking around' but you're easily besting professional fighters. Tell me you're not interested. Tell me that what I'm saying … doesn't make sense to you."

Jace looked at her suspiciously. "And you're an expert in all this? Are you some kind of career counselor now?" He almost laughed. "Hey," he frowned as Aline's words begain to sink in. "Have you been stalking me?"

She grinned at him. "Let me introduce you to my mother. She's the real expert and I think you'll be glad you met her. I think you two … will hit it off."

Jace stretched his neck, facing the ceiling. "I don't know. Seems like a waste of time. I've got a lot of other things going on right now. I just don't have the time."

"You think your baby mama can't do without you for another few hours a day?" Aline responded deprecatingly. "She seems pretty self sufficient to me."

"What the—," Jace began, outrage clear in his voice and his face.

"Calm down," Aline lifted her hands in a placating motion. "I had to check you out, so yeah, I know about her." She screwed her eyes at him, a curious look in them. "I'm assuming she is your baby mama. I mean you live together. You always have your hands on each other and … she's definitely carrying somebody's baby. Kinda young for all that but I'm gonna guess this was unplanned," she smirked at him. "You should work on that, by the way."

"What?" he almost snarled.

"Planning shit out," Aline explained. "I mean you're pretty good at it in class but you know, it's more important in real life."

"Stay away from her," Jace warned. "She doesn't need to be stressed out … about anything."

"Don't worry," Aline gave him a bland look. "I'm not a monster. And besides, why would I want to upset her? All I'm saying is I think she'd totally understand if you had … other long term goals."

"Is that what this training is for? Because I didn't get that impression. Not sure how I'd make a career out of learning how to kick butt better than I already do." Jace's eyes drifted to the clock above the professor's desk. "I've got to go. I have … plans."

"So, you're not running back to your baby mama?" Aline asked curiously.

"It's none of your business," Jace huffed, "and stop following me."

"Then meet my mother," Aline countered.

"Fine, but not today," Jace answered impatiently. "And after that, leave me alone. You know I like you. We're friends," he added quickly, "but I'm serious, I have other priorities. After I meet your mother and after I tell her I'm not interested, you will stop bugging me about all this.

"Alright, Jace," Aline said with a confident grin. "It's a deal."

He knew he was running late and he was annoyed. He had really wanted to give himself some extra time to get a hold of his jumbling nerves. He hadn't even wanted to see Grandmother again, not after coming to the damning conclusion she had connived to keep them apart. He still didn't entirely understand what his life was now. Sometimes he wondered if he had completely lost his mind and was now living in some made up fantasy world but whatever it was he knew he had changed irrevocably. There was no going back to his old life. Even if he wanted to explode from frustration with so much he still didn't know, not being able to give her everything he wanted to provide, seeing that wary look on her face after she mentioned or alluded to some part of their past and knowing despite her reassurances, it was important, it had mattered. He felt so Goddamn useless sometimes … but … it was all okay … at the end of the day, when he held her. She had to sleep turned away from him now that her protruding belly made it impossible to gather her close to him when they lay face to face. He wouldn't trade those precious hours with her back molded to his chest, his face buried in her hair, for any part of the lavish lifestyle and decadent surroundings that he had known before she entered his life.

But now he was here, briskly sliding through the aged wooden doors of the imposing but refined Restaurant de Nicola. It was his grandmother's favorite dining place for business meetings. He had been too glad that she had not asked him to meet her at the Manor to question her selection but now as he stood inside the dark entrance way, rich with mahogany and maroon décor, he couldn't help but wonder at her choice. Whatever this was, it shouldn't last long, he told himself. He was only keeping his promise to his angel. He knew better than to pin any hopes on a reconciliation with his Grandmother. He felt certain she had only agreed to meet him to punish him, crush his spirit, expound on all that she would take away from him, but she no longer held any power over him and he knew he could withstand her contemptuous remarks at his expense. He only feared what she would say … about her. He wanted some time alone to collect himself, steel himself from an explosive reaction to any scornful words she might direct at his love.

He froze, alarm and wonder mixed on his face. Had he just called her, his love? Yes, he hadn't said it out loud but he had never even permitted himself to think the words … but now … it just came so naturally and there really was no way he could camouflage the blatant adoration, his unmistakable … love. He had the immediate urge to turn around and leave, to head straight into her arms and announce this revelation to her.

"Mr. Herondale," a sleekly dressed black suited maître d' stood in front of him, a polite smile on his face. "This way, sir." He walked ahead of Jace and turned to make sure he was following.

Jace plowed ahead. He would see his beloved soon enough and he could tell her he met his grandmother, just as she asked of him, that he would do anything for her, no matter what it was or how much it reviled him. He moved determinedly, allowing the host to lead him into a private room. The main dining area was only half filled. At a quarter past five, it was too early for the dinner crowd but the clientele was the typical, affluent, well heeled society. He knew the enclosed back room was Grandmother's preferred spot. She was conscious of prying ears. Still, he had hoped that the presence of other diners around them would keep them both on their best behavior.

He stepped into the room. It was spacious, usually reserved for private parties and could hold more than ten tables but now there was only one large round table in the middle of the room with a pot of tea and a tray of salmon and cucumber finger sandwiches.

Grandmother sat primly in a chair facing the doorway, sipping her tea. Her eyes slowly rose up leaving a glacial trail up his body to his face. He stood there, only a few feet away from the doorway. It was as if her stare froze him to the spot. The maître d' pulled out a chair for him.

"Is there anything else I can get for you? Shall I send in your waiter?" he asked smoothly, his eyes darting between Grandmother and Jace, no hint that he registered the frigid tension in the air.

"Would you like to order something, Jace?" she said in her usual cool and measured voice, her icy blue eyes never wavering off him.

"No," Jace answered, then turned his gaze to the host. "Just a glass of water, please."

The man lightly dipped his head. "Very well, Sir, Madame," and he walked out of the room.

"Why don't you take a seat?" his grandmother asked, "or have you lost all semblance of propriety and manners?" Her tone was easy and light but he could hear the sharp edge to her words.

He strode over to the seat pulled out by the maître d' and sat. "Hello, Grandmother."

Madame Herondale narrowed her eyes shrewdly and shifted her position a little, folding her hands together on the table. "You've been busy," she remarked.

"Yes," he answered with no inflection.

"So, why did you want to meet me?" she sat back a little. Her face remained impassive but he thought a flash of … something pass through her eyes before they grew blank again.

"I didn't," he stated. His shoulders tightened. This isn't what she wanted. He knew that. He exhaled a long breath and forced himself to relax … or pretend to relax. "Clary … she wanted me to see you. She wants me to try … to be a family … with you … included." He almost choked out the last few words but he got it out.

He watched her stony face heat up. There was no color to her pallid cheeks but he could see the flare in her eyes.

"I see," she said. "I wonder why she would want that." Madame Herondale lifted her teacup to her lips and took a sip. "You must know by now I wanted to keep you two apart. I didn't want you to see her ever again. I arranged a marriage for you, a most eligible and desirable match with a beautiful young lady, an heiress to a fortune marginally less than your own inheritance, but attached to a noble title, a family name that would have added to the glory of your own house." There was a biting tone to her voice but her face remained smooth and expressionless. "Instead, you're here with her … and what are your prospects now? Some narrow, middle class life at best? Already a child on the way. Is it even yours?" She said all of this without the judgmental, sneering tone he would have expected and this threw him off a bit.

He lifted his head and involuntarily made a quick nodding motion. It was time to end this. "I think you already know the answer. I will take care of my family and if you don't want to be a part of it, that's your choice. I don't want your money. It doesn't matter if we live in a hovel. I have everything I need … with her." He pushed his chair back, readying to stand and leave.

"But," Madame Herondale stopped him with the resolute certainty in her voice, "is that what she wants? Maybe you, without the money, is not what she bargained for," and now he heard the cold sneer. In it, he could hear a relentless replay of the mantra, 'they all want your money, that's all they ever want,' that she recited to him repeatedly since he was five and old enough to know not to question her.

"No," he answered hastily. "She's not like that. You don't know her."

"Not like you know her," Madame Herondale returned with an icy calm, "of course. You've been so intimately acquainted for … all of two months? Certainly not more than three, since the last time I saw you, you had no idea who she was and you couldn't care less."

He knew it was a bad idea. There was no point to arguing with her but he couldn't stop himself. "How do you know that? Maybe I've got my memories back. Maybe I remember everything."

Madame Herondale assessed him with cold, calculating eyes. "I truly doubt that." She daintily picked up a sandwich with a napkin and nibbled at the edges. "You're very vulnerable. More vulnerable than I've ever seen you. There's something very … weak … about you now. I suppose I can easily guess why."

His brows knit. He had no idea where she was going with this and suddenly he knew he wanted nothing more to do with her. "I'm leaving now, Grandmother. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find happiness." He placed both hands on his knees, readying to depart.

"I'm not done," she answered. Her voice was iron now. Her eyes flashed furiously. "Do you have any idea how you've embarrassed me. It was no easy feat to manage the betrothal with the Hallorans. They had definite reservations against engaging their only child to a commoner, an American, despite all our wealth, they have a very strict code concerning who is deserving enough to merge his gene pool with their own exalted and venerable ancestry. And after they finally agreed to the union, you disappear, completely cut them out as if they were nothing, as if my will meant nothing."

Her hands flattened against the table. She lowered her eyes and she took a few deep breaths before leveling them back on him. He had nothing to say. He would let her get it out and then leave as he planned. Her words could not affect him. He figured he should let her air her grievances. He could do that for her.

"You are a very young man," she continued calmly. "I can make allowances for that. I understand young men can be very passionate. I believed you had been well trained to see such passion was futile and meaningless but I suppose you are still just a man, and liable to the weaknesses of men." She patted at her silver coif. "If you insist on remaining with … her … you will absolutely regret it. I can assure you, she will never … be safe."

Jace stiffened all over. "What do you mean by that? Why, how would she be 'unsafe'?"

"She will never bear your child," Madame Herondale stated simply. "She will not live to bear any children."

"Are you threatening her?" he spoke so roughly he didn't recognize his own voice. His hands gripped down on his own legs. He wasn't sure if he had any control to prevent himself from reaching out and strangling his own grandmother.

Madame Herondale looked at him sympathetically. "I'm trying to help you. Who knows better than you and I, the curse that falls on anyone a Herondale loves. We can't love. We can't allow ourselves to be that selfish. Do you understand me?"

Jace felt as if he were breaking apart. "What … what are you saying?" he rasped out.

"She'll have everything she needs. She can raise her child. They will want for nothing. She will have the best care, the best help," his grandmother answered softly, "but you … must stay away. You must live away from them. You must learn to live without love … like me."

He trembled. "I … I … can't. I can't live … without …"

"Yes, you can," she answered coldly.

"I … don't … believe … you," he whispered, fighting with himself to stop the shaking. "I'm not a child anymore. I don't believe your lies." He staggered up and turned away from her.

He didn't know how he moved but somehow he got out of there. He wasn't sure if she said anything else to him. He was outside, gulping down the cold, wet air around him. He had to get back home. He would be okay as soon as he saw her again and he could hold her and he would know again that their love was everything. He felt as if he were choking on the doubt and fear that had lodged into his heart. It was a thick black suffocating mass crawling through this chest and up his throat. He had to get back home.