Well, she's sundress cotton, he's grease on a Carhartt shirt
She's a candle in the wind, he's a light it up and let it burn
And every time she's with him, all she wants to do is kiss him
Starts thinking maybe she can fix him, he's thinking he'd love to let her try

- Rumor, Florida Georgia.

Good girls

love everyone,

just usually not

bad boy's

Clary didn't claim to be a good girl. But she tried.

Her parents already knew she wasn't going to be a doctor, they had resigned themselves to accept that she was an artist and were willing to pay for her expenses. After all they already had a doctor son, and how can they say 'no' to their little wide-eyed angel.

The angel who went to church and studied hard.

The angel who was oh so polite and sweet.

Their angel.

An angel, a girl uncorrupted.

Meet Jace, resident bad boy.

...

"You know," he says casually, like they were friends and not near strangers "you could have bought a week-two weeks even-worth of food with that money." He nods to the plate and Clary felt her eyebrows rise.

A single meal for one person would be $20. Heck, $20 was usually the tip when her family went out to eat together.

"Oh really?"

He nods, his hair shielding his eyes from the sun. His eyes were red and his tan skin didn't hide the circles and his cologne didn't hide the cloud of alcohol.

"Totally."

"Good to know." Clary smiles politely and stands to leave when she says.

"I bet you are a goody two-shoes."

Clary freezes, "Alright."

"I bet you've never been out past midnight."

"Why are you still talking to me?"

"Because, 'it's too dangerous for a lady'"

Clary brushed her curls over her shoulder, and smoothed her dress. "The world is a dangerous place."

He smiles blackly "Indeed. There are dangers before the clock strikes 12, ya know. The real trick is to be able to defend yourself."

Her heels cover the carpet and lead her out the church, trying to ignore the ring of truth that his words held.

She has never been out past 10 because she was a girl.

...

The charity event was supposed to end at 7. It ended at 8:30, plus the extra half hour cleaning everything up.

Clary had already called her parents to let them know she would be late. Even though it was only a 10 minute walk she agreed to get someone to drive her.

"Who needs a ride?" Monica chimed, "I got room for 3 people!"

"I need a ride!" Clary called quickly, followed by three more people needing rides.

Monica turns sympathetic eyes to Mary, the last one to call out "I'm sorry, kid. I only got room for three. And that's pushing it."

Mary asks around the room, her pale face paling even more with every sorrowful shake of the head. "I live across town- my taxi will cost-"

A fortune. She wasn't as lucky a Clary when cash was involved.

"You can take my seat." Clary offers, "I'm only a 10 minute walk away."

She turns to Clary real quick, her blond hair whipping and smacking her in the face "Are you sure?"

Clary nodded.

She let out a huge sigh of relief, "Thank you so much, Clary."

Magnus looked at Clary critically, "Are you sure, biscuit? It's pretty late."

Clary rolled her eyes and assured him that she'd be fine.

She stood outside the church door and stared at her phone.

She dialled her mom's cell first.

Voicemail.

Then her dad's.

Voicemail.

Clary had expected it, of course. They worked hard and it was a busy week in general but still Clary felt a tug of fear at the prospect of walking in the dark, 10 minutes to her home.

Her parents would be furious, of course. Walking at night was dangerous for a young lady. But wouldn't calling a taxi take longer? And her parents didn't need to know she walked. She'd be home and in bed by the time they got out of work.

'Suck it up, Clary' she told herself as she started her walk to her house.

Shadows covered most of the wall, even the flashlight on her phone didn't do much to light up her surroundings. So she didn't see it when someone fell into step with her a few feet back until they had a hand on their arm.

She immediately jerked away, but it was too late he already had her against a wall, hidden in between two buildings. She couldn't see much since she had dropped her phone, flashlight and all, when he grabbed her. But she can see dark eyes and pale hair. His hands were heavy and fast. Everytime she pushed one away they seemed to multiply, till it seemed that he was touching her everywhere in all the wrong ways.

She tried to scream but he had his hand against her mouth and any noise she made was throaty and seemed to encourage him.

When screaming failed her she tried to hit him, but her hands were stuck behind her and she didn't have enough room to rescue them. She tried to kick him, but her legs were also pinned. She was being pinned to the wall by his body. She jerked her knee and elbows but all her blows didn't seem to have an effect on him.

He was working on the fly of her pants when he staggered backwards.

Clary gasped a breath of air and crumbled to the floor, cheeks wet by what must have been tears.

Tears she hasn't known she was crying till they fell off her face and into her palms.

Fists flew and with three hits her attacker, her near..

She gasped, more sobs wracking her tiny body and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Despite it belonging to the man who saved her, despite her knowing that she couldn't be in more danger she flinched back.

He understood and took a step back, hands in the air.

"I'm sorry." he said, a familiar voice "I won't touch you." He hesitated, and kicked the toe of his boot to the gravelly ground "Would you like me to take you home?"

Shaking, Clary stood "What's your name?"

"Jace," he said "Jace Herondale."

"Do I know you?"

"I'd have to know who you are to be able to answer that question. Oh-and is this your phone? The flashlight was on, that's why I came here at all."

"It is," Clary nearly whispered taking the phone from him "And my name is Clary. Clary Fairchild"

"Alright Clary Fairchild, where do you live?"

She grunted as she exited the gap between buildings. "Close."

"Okay, don't tell the stranger your address."

There was a tinge of hurt under the well-paced sarcasm.

"I'm sorry" she apologized and turned to face him when she gasped. Recognition flooding her features, he blinked down at her before lighting up with recognition.

"Oh! You're 20 bucks."

"And your Mr. Hungover."

He rubbed his neck, "You could tell, huh?"

Clary rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of evidence of tears. "Yea, thank you for back there."

He shrugged, walking beside her "He's a jerk for doing that without consent. And desperate too. I mean it's clear no one wants to have sex with him if he's-"

"You were right." Clary interrupts

"I usually am..about what exactly?"

"About it not having to be past 12 for bad things to happen"

"But nothing happened." he says softy, "Your safe."

"But something was about to happen!" Clary explodes, face flushed "And I would have been helpless too it. I should have been able to-"

"You don't know how to fight. So don't beat yourself up." he punned "Beside he is disturbingly good at what he does."

"Can you teach me?" Clary asks suddenly, "To fight, I mean?"

He sounds awkward, something unexpected but not entirely unwelcome, "Can't you ask someone more qualified?"

"Sure, but i'm asking you. Look, i'll pay you." he looks like he's about to protest when she says "20 bucks an hour"

He hesitates.

"Please," she pleads "I'm a fast learner."

And like her parents he couldn't say no to her.

...

"Ow! That was great!" Izzy beams as Clary throws another gasp-worthy punch at her "Okay-ow-stop!"

Clary grins, trickling beads of sweat run down her face. She turns to seek Jace's approval and finds it in his sinful smirk.

Izzy, also noticing the smirk rolls her eyes "Because nothing gets you more hot and bothered than a pretty girl beating someone up."

Jace shrugs, "Anyone beating anyone up, really."

Clary bends over backwards to stretch out her back and legs. She sighs in contentment as she falls to the ground, momentarily immobilized.

Izzy and Jace exchanged raised eyebrows, "You good there, angel?" Jace finally calls out.

"Yeah, just stretching." She opens a green eye "Are we doing another hour?"

Jace smiles at her, it was a little strained at first. When the whole training, itself started. She stuck out like a sore thumb, with her bright hair held back with a headband and neat clothes. Her politeness often clashed with Alec's bluntness and Izzys' aloofness.

Magnus, who already knew her, took her in under her wing and cheered her on during her training sessions.

(Which were rough, Jace was a patient teacher but he preferred to show her how to throw a punch then explain it. She spent more time wrapping her knuckles up than actually learning how to throw a punch)

Eventually Izzy offered help, and they began to bond. Alec went from blunt to being straightforward and Jace...he softened up the tough guy act a degree or two.

But really, Clary fit in because she was Clary.

Loving, passionate, short-tempered Clary.

Clary who learned to wear her stained t-shirts and leggings.

Clary who had a bigger potty mouth then all of the combined.

Clary who didn't give up-even after getting the cold shoulder.

Jace smirks and leaves from his spot on the wall and stalks towards her, before she can say a thing she flips him over her shoulder. It was a quick funny move, most would rely on pure arm strength- but since Clary didn't have the same build as bigger people she had to rush him and crouch so that he flew on his own accord.

He grunts from his spot on the floor and Clary extends her hand to help him up, which he ignores not trusting her in the slightest. "Alright kicker."

Soon he was standing before her and Izzy was propped against Jace's recently evacuated spot.

"I am going to "assault' you" He explains, "the same way most do. I will rush you to a wall and you will get me off. Don't go easy on me."

Clary nodded, swallowing hard.

He rushes towards her, practically carrying her. he pressed against her, keeping his hands for going anywhere besides her hips and wrists. His scent was filling up her nostrils and making it hard to breath.

She sucks in a deep breath and evades his kiss (even though she really wanted him to kiss her). She bit his ear and he started, clearly not expecting that move and she used his surprise to send him a punch to the gut. He grunted but didn't move. So she curled up her body and when he moved to hold her again she kicked. He winced and retreated a few steps and that was when she pounced.

Tackling him to the floor and wrapping her legs around his neck. He was sprawled on his back, his neck held in a firm chokehold by her crossed legs.

He pats her leg and she releases.

He pants, looking at her with wide dark eyes "Well done. You're ready to kick ass." He turns to face Izzy, "What do you think?"

"I think" Izzy said as she pushed herself off the wall "that she could have done it twice as fast where she actually scared and if she had no interest in kissing you."

Busted.

Izzy shoots Clary a wink and leaves, Clary stare after her. The cars surrounded us were all rusty and dirty. A junkyard wasn't going to be hosting any hot convertibles.

But even the junky cars looked beautiful in the sunset.

It's funny how much can change in a few months.

Before that night in where she almost lost her innocence she wouldn't even think twice about the tawny-eyed rebel.

But now he occupied most of her thoughts.

Before befriending the blond she would never lie to her parents so drastically.

At first Clary couldn't even bear to look at her mother in the eye. She was a blushing, stuttering mess and a soon as she got her distracted mother's approval she rushed out of the house. Supposedly heading to her new friends 'Jessica's' place.

Jace insisted that the classes go on after sunset. Clary suspected that he was trying to be mysterious.

At the time it worked.

He was on his motorcycle, waiting in front of a different house. Clary speed-walked toward him, her bright hair held back by a big headband. Seeing her Jace looked even more doubtful, she was flushed and nervous and looked like the definition of a nervous wreck.

But she still got on the bike.

Over time Clary got better at lying to her mother.

Better at sneaking out.

More confident with her body and less scared of the dark.

Over time, Jace would stop treating her like a chore and more like a partner.

Even before the lesson, before everything he never treated her like glass.

Clary always saw him as a broken angel, made of beauty, horror, sharp edges, and smooth glory. She likes to think that she's helping smooth his edges, fixing his jaded view lens. Clary likes to think that he is letting her try.

Jace was standing now, his body curved into hers. Without her knowing it she was standing as as tall as she could.

She wanted to kiss him so badly, but... he was bad boy extrordinaire.

And she was a good girl, she was going to take a step back, laugh and turn away-but then she saw his eyes.

The eyes that always made her stay, liquid gold with flecked bronze and with the heat of the sun and the radiance of a feral lion.

Clary has stayed many times on her own accord, she was stubborn that way. But she was still a good girl. So when Jace hesitantly asked her if she wanted to stay a little later with them-not as practice but as friends-she hesitated. About to deny him when he looked at her wide-eyed like what she said could and would destroy or fix him.

She said yes.

And now when he was looking at her with such, want. With such need. With such urgentness. Every instinct told her to run, but her body stayed rooted in place.

She wants to kiss him so bad.

He cus her face, softly. Treasuring her.

"You got this emerald fire in your eyes" he whispers, his voice a little scratchy "it's gorgeous. I love watching it flare or turn into a wildfire. I love watching it start in your eyes before it blooms in your cheeks" he brushes her cheeks and the heat pools in them, on cue "then in your ears" the heat spreads to her ears. "then it goes back to your eyes"

She looks a him, wide-eyed and innocent looking, her petal lips parted.

His gaze darkens, "I want to kiss you, so badly. But I don't want it to be based of your body's attraction to mine. I want you to like me half as much as I like you."

"Just half?"

"It's a lot considering that I like you so much it might be love."

She swallows, her hands tracing their way to behind his neck, "Prove it."

So he did, at first he kissed her softly. Exploring her. Tracing her lips with his. Then when he realized she wasn't going to pull back he devoured her.

His hot body against hers, her hands on his body and his on her's. He was kissing her so hard it was like he was trying to break her just so that he can kiss her while she repairs herself. And maybe, he can heal himself too.

Her phone buzzed, and she knew it was her mom asking where she was but rigth now.

When she was being kissed like this- like she was needed, she didn't care.

He, however, did.

"You should check that."

Grumbling, she did.

Then she shrieked "HOLY SHIT! IT'S AFTER MIDNIGHT! I'M SO DEAD."

He snatched the phone from her and typed something in, reading aloud as he wrote, "I wrote a text but never sent it! I need to stay late to finish a project but Isabelle's place is across town. Can I make it a sleepover so that I can finish what I started?"

Clary smiled at him, "You're not a very good influence."

"I figured you were enough of one for the both of us."

"Finish what I started?"

He smiles, almost shy "If you like?"

Clary shrugs, but pocketed her phone and start her way to his motorcycle, "You'll have to convince me."

"I can do that."

And he did.

Look at this? An actual one-shot.

Vive le revolution! There is something satisfying on writing a one-shot.

xxx

PS. Shoot me a comment?

PPS. Please check out my Sizzy one-shot, it's "He Wasn't Good Enough For Her, (No. Wait! He Was.)"

And there is a one-shot that follows my music theme, it's called "You Promised"

:D