Max was almost certainly sugar high, Jace thought as he watched the newly turned seven-years old rush through the living room; running, screaming with delight. He whooped into the frigid air, his red t-shirt garish against the somber furnishing of the Institute.

Heads turned towards the noise only to smile with indulgence and returning to the previous conversations and poor Chairman Meow let out an angry sound and skittered out of the way and under the sofa where he could nap in peace and without risking to get his tail stomped.

Jace smiled fondly at the sight and looked over at his wife beside him. She was lying forwards, her elbows propped on the table and her chin resting in her palms. Her eyes were staring unblinking at some undefined point in the distance and she seemed totally removed from the joyous atmosphere around her.

Huh.

Scooting over on the couch he was sitting on, he placed a soft hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles, but just as her green eyes met his and a small smile appeared on her lips, Max came barreling to them, locks of his turquoise hair plastered over his sweaty forehead.

"Auntie Clary!" he panted, bouncing excitedly on his toes. "Look at this card Rafe drew for me!"

Behind him, Rafael nodded eagerly, always the more reserved of the two, as the small warlock raised a piece of scribbled paper in front of her eyes.

Clary removed the hand from under her chin slowly and made a show to examine the card. Jace could see four stick-figures - grinning to himself as he noticed the bright pink scrawl that he guessed were Magnus' hair - and on top written in big, bold letters 'I LOVE YOU MAX' followed by a big red heart.

"This is very good, Rafe," Clary said, still smiling. "Did you do this all by yourself?"

"Yeah, all by myself," the kid replied proudly, his chest puffing up. "I didn't want anyone to help me, not even dad or papa."

She laughed, but it was a tired sound, and Jace felt a hint of worry tug at his stomach. "You did really well, darling." Her hand reached out to stroke Max's cheek and to ruffle Rafe's hair and Jace was sure that the five minutes stop they did to show off the drawing was stretching out to long for their sugar-addled minds and they were ready to rush off to the next adventure when Max suddenly yanked eagerly on Clary's forearm, her whole torso slipping forwards so that she nearly smacked it into the tabletop.

He furrowed his eyebrows as the worry grew, it had been years since Clary had been caught off guard so easily, years of training as Shadowhunter had left her with lightning-fast reflexes.

"Come play with us!" Max squealed, tugging away mercilessly, "You promised to show us the new Naruto comics! Oh, oh, maybe we could play with the new ball Nana got me!"

Clary smiled wanly. "Maybe in a little while, all right?"

"Please?" Max begged, eyes wide and angelic. "I really want to play football, I have learned a new move I want to show you and I promise this time I'll be careful and won't break the window!"

"That's good to know." Jace saw her draw in a slow, deep breath through her nose and then slowly exhale, the tired smile still in place. "I'm sorry, Max," she said, brushing his hair off his face. "Maybe in a bit."

"Why don't you go see if your Uncle Simon will play with you," Jace offered, crouching down to be at eye level with his nephew. "He really likes sports," he lied.

Max's brows knit together and Jace feared he would stick there all night and plead Clary for attention until he remained without voice. But, much to his luck, the kid took off without much fuss, his brother hot on his heels, disappearing under the white tablecloth to fish out the red ball Maryse had gifted him.

Jace turned his attention back to Clary, lifting her from the chair she was sitting in and sliding her next to him on the couch. She leaned against his side, her head resting on his shoulders and for the first time in the evening he could see how oddly pale her complexion looked beneath the dusting of freckles on her cheeks.

"You all right?" he asked, pressing his cheek to the top of her head, observing as the little silhouette of Max clung to Simon's pants in an attempt to grab his attention.

Clary nodded, her lips pressed together into a thin line. "I'm fine."

Pulling away from the embrace, Jace took her face between his hands, meeting her eyes with his. "Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded again, "I slept really bad tonight. It must be exhaustion, I guess."

He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her closer again. "Did you? I didn't notice. You could have woken me if you felt unwell."

"It was nothing. I couldn't fall asleep, that's all."

Jace stroke her hair slowly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Do you want me to call off the party? It's getting late anyway, I'm sure Max has run past bedtime for quite some time now."

"No, it's fine," she said feebly as Simon joined Max and Rafael, throwing a dark glare in Jace's direction, "Let him have his fun."

He sighed, the sight of Simon trying to desperately duck away from the blows the kids were kicking his way lifting his spirits slightly. "Do you want me to get you something to drink? Maybe some sugars will help you stay up."

Clary lifted her head, pecking his lips lightly. "Thanks."

As he took a glass from the large buffet table Maryse and Jocelyn had set up for the event and filled it with something light – a fruit juice – out of the many drinks, Jace couldn't help but gaze back to his wife. Clary had stretched her legs in front of her on the couch, one hand laying on her stomach and her face pinched in a grimace of discomfort.

In a rush, Jace headed back into the couch, sitting on the edge and settling the glass on the floor next to his feet. Clary sat back up and folded her arms over her chest with an aggrieved sigh. She picked up the glass with shaking hands and took a tiny sip before setting it back down. "I think I ate too much."

Under normal circumstances, Jace would have found the statement hilarious. Clary had always had a big appetite on her, usually having second servings and then a massive portion of dessert, and he always marveled of how her tiny body could contain all that food without her exploding. But he couldn't remember the last time a large portion had left her in this state; actually, Jace doubted it had ever happened and the fact worried him. Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember her eating that much tonight. She had not left her plate clean but it was certainly more empty than usual.

Jace was cut off from his thoughts when Clary suddenly sprang to her feet and made a dash for the door, a hand clamped over her mouth.

The room had fell silent, eyes staring at the point where she had disappeared into the corridor with dumbfounded expressions. He rose to his feet slowly, his brain formulating no thoughts other than to register that he was shocked by the sudden turn of events.

Jocelyn met his gaze her green eyes, just a couple of shades darker than Clary's, were filled with concern. "Jace, what's wrong with her?"

He swallowed, for once at loss for words. How he wanted to know what the problem was. "It's probably something she ate," he said giving the woman a smile and feeding her the same excuse her daughter had made up shortly before, "Don't worry, I'll go check on her."

Jace padded down the hall, his mind a muddled mess, and just as he passed the bathroom, he heard it: retching, a few subduing coughs and then, after a long moment of silence, the sound of a flush.

His stomach clenched with worry.

"Clary?" he knocked lightly on the door, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," her voice was muffled by the wood, but Jace could tell it was shaking, "But we have to make sure Isabelle didn't cook anything that was on that table tonight."

Cracking a smile despite his concern, Jace grasped the handle, pushing the door slightly ajar. "Can I come in?"

There was a pause, then some shuffling. "Be warned, the sight it's not of the best."

He found her sitting on the tile floor beside the toilet, her legs stretched out before her, her head tipped back against the wall as she exhaled slowly. She looked even paler now, with her bright hair sticking to her sweaty forehead.

"You don't look so good," Jace told her honestly, lowering himself on the floor next to her.

Clary's head tilted towards him, an eyebrow raised in accusation. "Wow. Not even a year of marriage and you are already talking to me like that."

Jace grinned down at her. "Yes well, I always knew I'd end up being the better looking one of the two- "

She smacked him on the arm and he was relieved to see she was grinning too, "I knew you were lying when you told me I was prettier than you. All a plot to seduce me, and now that we're married there is no need to keep up the farce, isn't there?"

"All right, all right, you've got me. I think you're beautiful," he caved, raising his hands in defense, "But you're definitely ill, too."

Clary blew her hair out of her face, a stubborn expression on her face, "I'm fine," she mumbled standing up on shaky legs. Jace quickly rose too, taking her by her forearms to steady her. She wriggled out of his grasp and walked to the sink grabbing her toothbrush and toothpaste.

"Don't make that face," she chided him, her voice distorted by the toothbrush.

"I'm not making a face," he said, knowing fully well that he most likely was, "I'm just worried about you."

"You don't have to be," she bent on the faucet to rinse her mouth, washing the remains of toothpaste down the drain. "It's just a stomach bug or - or maybe a dodgy piece of cheese-"

"We ate the same things."

"Then it's just a stomach bug," she said convinced, "I'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow."

Jace woke with the sun peeking in through the curtains, hitting him square in the eyes, and Clary sliding out from under his arm. True enough in the week that followed the incident, Clary never had any more episodes like that. In fact, it was as if she had never been sick at all.

By now Jace had convinced himself that Clary was probably right (she usually was) and that it had likely been just a stomach bug. Probably something she ate from that new Chinese place they had tried the night before and that had caught her by surprise. She was good as new, and looking back at it now, Jace felt rather foolish for ever worrying about it.

A muttered curse drew his attention away from his thoughts. Cracking a smile, he reached over and ran his fingers down her hunched back, smiling softly at her when she glanced at him over her shoulder.

"It's still early and it's cold outside" Jace said, his voice still thick with sleep, "Come back under the blankets."

Clary smiled at him, stroking his cheek lovingly, and he felt goosebumps ripple across his body. Even after nearly eight years of relationship and a few months of marriage sometimes he still struggled to believe that the war was over and the horror and the destruction and the deaths had stopped and no longer loomed around every corner. That Clary was to his side every night when he went to sleep and again every day when he woke up.

Jace grasped her wrist and turned his head against her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before sliding it down his chest and resting it over his marriage rune. "I love you," he told her softly, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of her hand.

"I love you too," Clary whispered as she leaned down over him, her elbows resting on either side of his head. Desire and hunger glowed in her green eyes while she pressed down against him. He dug his fingers into her red hair and pulled her down for a kiss.

Jace felt his brain light up as if on fire and the warmth spread throughout his entire body. He loved the way her small body melted into his own. The way their lips fit like two puzzle pieces. The way she sighed into his mouth as he played with her hair and held her tighter and tighter. Her hands worked their way around his body, feeling each inch, each line along his physique.

Clary rolled on her back and he braced himself in his elbow, covering her body with his form while the other hand ventured over her curved body, exploring.

"What time do you have to be at work?" she asked breathless.

"The meeting I had early in the morning was cancelled so not until much later," Jace replied, his lips working on her neck.

"Good."

Jace wrapped his scarf twice around his neck making sure to shield the lower half of his face from the frosty air of December. Each footfall sank into the fresh layer of snow as he made his way through the busy sidewalks of New York, watching with distracted eye the shop windows that were already starting to showcase bright and flashing Christmas decorations.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the cheerful atmosphere as he usually would when he and Clary went browsing through the shops for gift shopping. She hadn't come with him today, even though they had some last-time purchases to make. Her nausea had returned fierce and unwavering and she spent most of her days cooped up in the bathroom, throwing up. Whatever kind of stomach bug she had caught, it seemed that it had hit her much worse than the last time, there were days where Clary could barely stand the smell of the eggs he cooked for breakfast or the wine they drank for dinner.

To add to her misery, she seemed to have developed a bad case of exhaustion, managing to fall asleep in pretty much every place at any time of the day. Jace was at his wit's end trying to decipher whatever was plaguing her and the fact that it just wasn't going away was driving him mad.

By the time he got home, the chicken soup he had gotten for Clary had turned lukewarm into its tub. Jace scurried down the path towards the Institute entrance, his boots crunching against the snow that covered the stone steps leading up to the front door. The porch light was on, and the familiar yellow glow made the house feel warm and inviting.

The metal of the doorknob was cool against his palm but he twisted it with ease, entering the well-lit corridor. He disentangled the scarf from his neck and hung his coat on the hooks of the coat rack. "Clary?" Jace shifted the paper bags with the dinner under one arm as he dusted off the melting snow from his hair, and made his way through the silent halls, "Clary, you here?"

Ash's pale head peeked out from the library door. "She's sleeping," he said quietly.

Jace stepped into the room and immediately spotted Clary curled up in one of the armchairs, a book messily open in her lap as if she had fallen asleep in the middle of her reading. Her hair messy around her face and she was wearing one of his old sweatshirt over a pair of pajama bottoms and a pair of blue fuzzy socks to cover her feet.

"Is she still sick?" Jace asked Ash as he knelt next to her and brushed some of her vibrant hair off her face.

"Not anymore," came the reply from his shoulders, "She was sick only in the morning, I heard her mutter something about sa… salmonella, I think? I'm not exactly sure what that is, but Clary seemed convinced that was the cause of her sickness and she has sworn off any kind of uncooked food."

Jace shook his head and bent over her to press a kiss to her forehead ignoring the fact that he had been out all day for work and probably was covered with dirt and sweat and should probably have jumped under the shower as soon as he set foot home. But she looked so small and vulnerable and that same nagging insistence that this was something more than a stomach flu or food poisoning was back with vengeance.

Most likely it wasn't just the flu, Jace rationalized to himself as he headed towards the kitchen - Ash trailing quietly behind him like a pale shadow - this wasn't really like the last time she caught the flu, a couple of years ago. She'd been sore all over then, and shivering despite the burning fever, and she certainly hadn't been ready to jump him at every given chance.

He stopped that thought right there. Clary was going to be fine, he told himself, everything would be fine.

But then again, there was no denying that he had been always a good target for whatever disgrace life - or the universe, or Raziel, or whoever/whatever it was – had in store. Maybe, this sudden sickness was just yet another obstacle.

Jace rested the paper bags on the kitchen island, suddenly very anxious to find something to busy himself with before his mind started to race with countless scenarios, each more dramatic and tragic than the last.

"Was it bad?" he asked Ash.

He turned around finding his green eyes looking at him with concern. "No, not worse than usual. She has been pretty sick after breakfast but when she woke from her nap she was feeling great. We had pasta for lunch and she ate that without problems. Then out of the blue she decided she wanted to eat cookies so I was coerced into making some," he pointed to a plate over the counter which still contained a few of the baked goods.

Jace exhaled slowly, moving slid the soup in the microwave and pulling out two plates where he cut the rotisserie chicken he had gotten for Ash and himself while it heated. When he raised his gaze again, he found Clary standing on the threshold of the kitchen in his much too big sweatshirt, rubbing the sleep off her eyes and looking so, so small and vulnerable.

Still, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. "You're back early."

Clary smiled brightly up at him and Jace felt some of the tension alleviate. "Mission was over sooner than expected," he kissed her briefly, fingers trailing down her spine, "Are you hungry? I've bought dinner."

"Oh yes," she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, "Really hungry."

They had dinner on one of the impossibly soft sofas in the study, where Clary had insisted they'd watch a movie during their meal. So, with the dim lights casting a homey atmosphere in the room, the warmth of a blanket on his lap and his wife's comforting scent around him, Jace fell asleep with his head on Clary's lap before they even reached the first half of the movie, barely an hour after they finished dinner.

He woke up with Clary's fingers combing through his hair and her smiling face hovering over his. The moon was high in the sky and the clock signed past midnight. Sitting up, Jace rubbed the blurry sleep from his eyes. "Where's Ash?" he asked noticing they were alone in the study.

"Already in bed, the movie finished quite a while ago."

His back popped loudly as he stretched his arms in the air. "Right, I guess we should head to sleep too," he said digging a hand into his sleep-tousled hair. Clary came up behind him, nodding in agreement and he allowed her to wrap an arm around his waist and steer him towards their bedroom.

She let herself plop down on the edge of the bed, sitting cross legged and watching with her head tilted and eyes narrowed as he undressed. "You going to take a shower?"

"Yeah," He kissed her goodnight, "Don't stay up waiting for me, it's quite late already." he kissed her again, on the forehead this time, and grabbed his fresh clothes before disappearing in the bathroom. The room didn't even get the chance to fill up with steam when the door opened again, letting a cold gust slip inside.

Perplexed, Jace asked her, "What're you doing? Are you sick again?"

Clary shook her head, stepping up on her tiptoes and kissing him deeply. "Never felt better," she told him, her fingers twirling the hair at the base of his neck.

An amused laugh bubbled past his lips and he bent down, bumping his nose against hers while his hands ran lightly along her hips. "Glad you feel better."

She pulled back slightly, giving him a measured look."You've been worrying too much. Again."

"I can't help it. I hate seeing you suffer," he murmured.

Pressing her body against his, she grazed her lips against the column of his neck. "You are so sweet. Would you mind me helping with that shower?"

Jace let out a chocked sound but Clary didn't let herself be bothered by his surprise and brought his head down to hers for a deep kiss. His heart leaped in his chest at the contact and, as he looked down at her through the layer of steam that clouded the room, Jace searched for any sign of illness or discomfort.

The heat gave her skin a warm and pink flush, and the same warmth was mirrored in her eyes , so he grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hoisted her up in his arms. Clary let out a laugh as she shuffled to get rid of his sweatshirt and kissed him soundly again.

Later when both were clean and dry, Jace slipped finally under the blanket and Clary joined him, curling up on his side like a cat as she always did.

"I've gotten an appointment with the doctor."

Jace's hand stopped stroking her hair. "Do you?"

"Yeah," she exhaled, "I'm tired of spending my mornings locked up in the bathroom."

"It has been almost a week," he agreed quietly.

"I know, I know," she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, "I've called this morning, the appointment is next week."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Her fingertips pressed against the smooth line of his jaw and her lips brushed against his. "No need, it'll be just a routine check. I'm sure it's nothing."

He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. With Clary's head rested on his chest Jace slowly let the thoughts of illness and trouble slip away from his mind. Instead, he focused on the gentle thud of her heart in her chest, perfectly aligned with his, and the overwhelming sensation that never in his whole life he had felt this lucky.

The Christmas Tree stood tall and imposing, its seven feet of height nearly reaching the ceiling of the Institute's music room. Tiny lights flickered on and off, casting golden dots on the nearby surfaces. Jace watched as Clary's hair glowed under the direct exposition, her head bent down and brows furrowed in concentration while her fingers expertly worked on the wrapping paper.

As far as Jace was concerned, Christmas had always been just another day. Shadowhunters, especially Valentine, didn't celebrate the festivity and so he was used to spend the twenty fifth of December like any other day of the year. After moving in New York, there had been the occasional party at the Institute when little Max had been home with his parents around the period, but then Max had died and just there was no need to celebrate anymore.

So when he had started dating Clary, he found out she was the biggest Christmas fan and suddenly he had found another reason to celebrate. In the years they had lived together there was already a tree surrounded by a small scattering of gifts weeks before Christmas, and Jace always felt a little overwhelmed. at first. Boxes wrapped in beautifully expensive gold and silver paper topped with red and green ribbons, handmade gift tags, scripted writing.

But, even if he had worried about it endlessly, buying for her, Jace discovered, was easy. She didn't tell him what she wanted but he knew anyway. This year, he bought her a new iPod to replace her worn one, and filled it with recordings of him playing her favorite tunes on the piano. She always told him that hearing him inspired her to paint and this way, he thought, she would be able to create even when he was away.

Clary slid the last of their last-time-wrapped gift across the blanket, towards him, and Jace slapped a bright red ribbon on top of it before placing it along the pile of others under the tree.

"There, all done," she exclaimed proudly, clapping her hands once.

"Good," he replied letting himself fall backwards onto the blanket, "I'm exhausted."

"But if I did all of the work!" she cried indignantly.

Jace ignored her and made a show to yawn. "Ah, can't wait to go to bed and get some well deserved rest."

"No, wait," she reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve of his pajamas, holding him in place, "Wait a moment, first."

Clary crawled to the pile of presents and picked up a small, square box wrapped carefully in a red paper and handed it out to him looking nervous all of sudden. "Here, I want you to have your present."

He looked at her in confusion, usually she was pretty strict when it came to presents. Nobody was allowed to peek before Christmas morning. "But, it's not Christmas yet."

She smiled thinly and pressed the box in his hands. "I know but I wanted us to be alone when I gave it to you and tomorrow we are going to do a million other things that there will never be the time to open it properly.

His fingers fiddled with the ribbon placed on top of the present. "Alright, then."

Jace slid the lid off and tossed it aside, his eyes peering inside the small box curiously. Folded in half, laying on the bottom there was the tiniest beanie hat Jace had ever seen, one of the small bear ears stitched on top of it sticking upright. On top of it, a folded slip of paper.

Jace took it in his hand and looked at the set of small pictures in confusion. It just looked like a black and white image with a bunch of blobs and splotches, and he really couldn't understand what the big deal about it was. But then he looked a little closer and a little longer, and he could swear that one of those confused blotches looked distinctly like the curve of a tiny head. And suddenly things were falling into place. "Clary, love… are you pregnant?"

Her lips curled upwards. "Yeah."

"You are?" his voice was barely above a whisper, afraid that if he spoke the words too loud the illusion might shatter, stopping being real.

Clary nodded again, more convinced this time, and her smile grew. "Yes. Yes, I'm nearly three months along."

"Clary." Jace's voice came out strangled, hoarse, and he leaned forwards on the blanket, cradling her face in his palms. "We're having a baby?"

She laughed breathlessly, her eyes bright and serene. "We're having a baby."

He crushed her in his arms a second later, burying his face in the soft cloud of her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. For a moment his mind brought him back to when he was still sixteen and uncontrollably, head-over-heels in love with her and when picturing a future like this with Clary wouldn't have been even remotely possible.

But she was here now, and they were going to have a baby, and Jace thought he might burst from all the love he felt at the moment, for Clary, for their unborn child, and for all the children they might have in the future. Jace had never imagined he would be able to feel this much.

He pulled away and pressed his lips to hers. "I love you," he whispered as he peppered kisses on her cheeks, on her forehead, on her nose, on every inch of her he could reach, "I love you so much."

Clary's hand rose and stroked his cheek, wiping away the tears that were falling freely. "I love you too."

His hand snuck under her sweater, settling against her still smooth and flat stomach. "Nearly three months," he whispered in awe, "How long have you known?"

A sheepish smile appeared on her face as her hand came to rest on top of his. "Three weeks and, believe me, not telling you was hell. It was even worse since I had to bribe Ash into silence too. But, I thought that with Christmas coming up it could be a nice surprise…"

"I'm sorry, you told Ash but not me?!"

Her laughter filled the air. "Well, he did come to the doctor with me. He was really sweet afterwards, you know? It was him who picked this," Clary said picking up the tiny hat.

"God, this is amazing," Jace breathed out, still felling shell shocked, "I can't believe this is really happening. I was really starting to believe you had gotten very ill or something."

She stroked his hair with gentleness. "I'm sorry, I thought I could just pretend nothing was wrong until Christmas. I didn't think you'd be so worried."

"I know… every time the sickness went away for a few days I felt stupid about worrying for something so trivial. But then you'd start getting sick again and I just…" Jace took her hands in his and lowered his gaze, "In my mind I was already picturing you being seriously ill, and-" He swallowed thickly. "I don't know, I guess it's just that I'm not used to being happy for so long without something bad happening to ruin it."

"Oh, Jace," Clary whispered teary eyed, "You don't have to worry anymore. I'm fine and the baby's perfect too. "

"Of course the baby is perfect," said Jace with a broad smile, "He or she is going to be the most loved baby in the whole world."

"I know," she said, smiling through her own tears, "You are going to be an amazing father."

"I hope so," his voice was cracked slightly; it had not occurred to him, never crossed his mind… he was going to be a father. He found himself laughing softly, breathlessly, because it was all he could do with the swell of giddy happiness that overwhelmed him.

Stepping forward, Jace rested his chin on top of her head, his eyelids drifting shut as she placed her cheek against his chest. And as they stood there, holding onto each other under the flickering golden lights of the Christmas Tree, he was overcome with a sudden sense of euphoria.

He was firmly convinced that Clary had saved him all those years ago. Being able to spend his life with her was unlike anything he had hoped to experience in his life. She had burst into his life and loved him deeply and fiercely from the first moment, turned something he believed was broken into something beautiful, and for that, Jace couldn't have been more grateful.