A/N: So this was before monday… not the monday I wanted but… a monday!

Anyways. Gen chem lab hurts. Chem is impossible (seriously if anyone has study tips LET A GIRL KNOW!). I love movie nights- my roommate, a girl from across the hall, and I watched the babysitter and are going to watch the second movie in that series… It's kind of a bad b-list movie.

Also my roommates sign says "Alan Rickmans fake nvdes" because it was thought up on 2 am and Dogma was a great movie.

Anyways I'm going to the city tomorrow so… here you go. I'm in a great mood

Also huge thank you to a viewer on AO3 (because I'm on AO3 now) named SkylaRose who came up with the chapter titles! I still have to implement them… maybe tomorrow?

Anyways, Without further ado:

He hated her and hated her and hated her. At the same time though, he really didn't. She was impressive, sure, but she was also so frustrating!

It wasn't that he hated her, Jace reconciled within himself. It was that, at the end of the day, he was jealous and frustrated with both her and others in his life.

He didn't know why it was her though. Jace had been around plenty of women- had plenty of women. He could pick them up at bars and coffee shops. The only woman who had ever been more than a glance and a one night stand was Clary, redheaded enigma and menace.

He was distracted and -worst of all- he couldn't be. Jace wasn't allowed to be side tracked while he held the lives of his people- his men -in his hands. Yet, as he donned his own harness, filling it with knives and handguns of his own, Jace thought about Clary, about the girl that turned him on his head even though he had only known her a couple days.

Jace had long since resigned himself to fleeting one night stands and endless bachelorhood. He had never felt the spark that Will and Izzy had described with their significant others.

Jace remembered when Izzy had first met Simon, her reactions and the anger she displayed after coming back from talking to him. How her eyes were bright and sharp, makeup in the slightest hint of disarray.

She needed a tech consultation on one of Herondale Enterprises cases and Simon- being one of the newest tech recruits -was given her case.

Jace had never seen her so angry afterwards, storming around with nothing to show for her hours in the city. He remembered her cursing and screaming, ranting and taking out her anger, then taking a healthy mouthful of whatever they had snuck out of his father's decanter. They got drunk together- not the first time, but one in a long line of times -and he listened as she described his messy hair and crooked glasses.

"He's like a brown-eyed Harry Potter- yah know! From those… books?" She trailed off, makeup slightly askew and hair falling free from a clip. "Hair that will never sit right no matter what." Another sip- mouthfuls were for the beginning -and she kept talking about his shampoo.

Finally, Jace asked what it was about him that had her so tied up. "Of all the men- supermodels and famous brainiacs -why was it some average Joe from nowhere USA?"

He would remember her answer for the rest of his life. "I don't know. Hes… He got under my skin and now he's stuck. I'd spend another day in the city fighting him and having him do pointless research just so I could see his face and hear his voice- even if what he says angers me."

Years later and they were still together, happy as ever.

It took Will months to finally work up the courage to talk to Tessa. Jace also asked him the question. They had been family forever- brothers for what felt like the same time -so he asked.

Will, much younger and without a decent amount of the wrinkles he now possessed, looked into his coffee, a crooked smile on his face and joy in his eyes. "I don't know. It's just something about her. Time stands still when we're apart and when we're together it burns away in the blink of an eye." A small chuckle escaped and dropped into his tea. The whimsical quality of his voice drifted on the stagnant air of the living room.

When Jace finally met Wills icey eyes, he didn't know what resided in them. He just… didn't know that emotion. Will's eyes were both glazed and clear, body calm and vibrating. He was soft and cutting all at the same time.

"I can smell her on me, on what she touched. I can practically feel her next to me, drinking tea and rolling her eyes. Most of all, I want to share and know everything about her. I want to tell her things and ask her questions." He paused, stared into his tea and set his shoulders.

"I want… I want her by my side so that- when I turn to ask her something and she's not there -she will be."

He seemed to come to a decision then, a big one. What Jace didn't know was that he would be asked to go ring shopping with his pseudo big brother the next day.

Jace would also be the best man a year later.

He didn't know what brought all the people in his life together. Their answers of "I don't know." never sat well with him. How could you not know what tied you so intricately and intimately to another person? Sure, Jace had shared his body but… it was another thing entirely to share your soul. That's what lovers, significant others, boyfriends and girlfriends, and husbands and wives did with one another- they shared their soul. Jace had always believed there to be a reason why they were called one anothers 'other halves'.

He didn't know what connected him to the redheaded woman. Maybe it was the brush with death. His back and side still a glaring reminder of what transpired between them. Maybe it forged a connection between him and Clary because, no matter how hard he tried, she had taken up root and grown a tree in his mind. He could almost see pieces of her and him littering the branches of the sapling, hanging and twisting in the wind of his fleeting thoughts.

Hints of memories long forgotten hung like photographs around the base. Pieces flashed of her face, a halo of pale light behind her head while all he could feel was pain. The moment she confessed her fears in the laundromat, soft curls framing her face and a flash of hope that exploded behind tight green eyes.

At the very top was the last image of her face Jace pretended he never saw as he was walking away, eyes blank and shoulders fallen.

She had grown a tree where none other had before. The scariest part was that- even though he couldn't seem to uproot her- he wasn't even sure he wanted to.

Throwing the strap around his shoulder, rifle resting against his chest, Jace walked to the lineup, telling himself that he wasn't looking for flashes of red in the gathering crowds.

The vans had arrived and everyone was climbing on them, grabbing the rails that lined the outside of the roof and resting their feet on the footpads. Hands were grabbing rails and everyone was making their way onto the vans. He didn't see a flash of red, or the white hair of her brother- not that he was looking, of course. Still, as the vans pulled out and to the designated address, he most certainly didn't search for her.

Hopping onto a van, Will on his left and Jordan to his right, they pulled out of the warehouse. People, who stayed behind to either clean or restock, closed the large rolling doors, light disappearing into the darkness around the other warehouses.

He didn't know how long they travelled in the night. With the street passing below and the cool night air, it was easy to lose track of time hanging on the back of the van. There were few people out and about, fewer who took a double look at the SWAT stickers that decorated the sides and concealed the truth of the people on it.

The buildings flashed by, rows after rows of tight small housing where the inhabitants were so lucky. They were oblivious to the battles Jace had to fight, atrocities he commited. Any person on the street would be appalled by Jace, by what he had done. What would Clary think? She saved lives on the daily so… what would she think of a killer?

More importantly, Jace thought to himself, why did he care? She was just another person he saw and talked to and she would be gone. Eventually, their paths would split and then he'd lose her in a city of millions.

As much as he tried to get the redhead out of his mind as they neared their destination, she stuck- glued to his skull. It was only as they pulled up a few streets from the warehouse, the vans stopping just long enough for them to hop off, that the redheaded mystery faded into his subconscious, replaced with the cooling mindset that provided the focus he needed to lead.

Jace dropped off the back of the van, landing lightly with a bend of his knees. The other- newer -people used a roll but, after doing this one and off for almost 20 years, Jace was a seasoned pro.

They gathered again, groups branching off to flank the warehouse. With their rifles raised, Jace led the frontal assault, first in and last out- a trait he learned long ago -being put to good use.

To his right was a flash of red- her -and then it was gone. He didn't go searching for her, he couldn't. Jace had a job to do and watching over Clary wasnt it. He had to hope that, between Will and her Seal of a brother, she would be well protected.

The light tap of the boots of his brethren faded into the distance, around the streets and fanning out around the building. He had trust in his people, like the trust in himself, and knew that within minutes they would breach.

With his left hand resting around the trigger, his right readying to level the rail of his rifle, he walked, men fanned out behind him. His mind fortified, nothing but the mission existed for him. Jace's back hurt but, with this mindset, there was no room for pain in the mission.

The only sound was the soft footfalls of their booted feet, all the personnel having been taught to move like ghosts. A thin trail of sweat slowly made its way down his face, lingering in his eyebrow. Despite the night, it was warm- humid -and it stuck to his skin. He could taste the pollution of the outer city on his tongue, metal and dirt.

They passed the dark windows and alleys, inhabitants and streetlamps alike all long dead in the portion of the forgotten NYC. Foot after foot, one in front of the other, they walked knees bent into their destinies.

The warehouse, like all others, had rusted sides and a caving roof. The dull light was a beacon from inside, the only difference to show their destination.

There were no guards, the cocky assholes. It seemed that the Grandiose felt no need for a guard rotation. His phone, resting in a pocket on his thigh, buzzed once then twice. Three more buzzes in rapid succession signalled the different groups, they were ready and waiting for Jace.

He leveled his rifle at the door, familiar weight pliable in his experienced hands as it rested against his shoulder. A quick flick with his left hand- index and middle finger straightened, wrist flicked forward twice in a quick one-two motion -then he walked up to the rolling doors, the others taking a place against the wall. Two men, boys really- since when did they get so young? -grabbed the doors and within a breath wrenched them open.

Blinding white light from the warehouse flooded the street, illuminating all the dark hidden shadows.

No one moved as they waited for the hail of bullets, no one breathed. Milliseconds felt like hours as the first piece of metal death passed the threshold. Then off they were, like poppers in a long gone fourth of July party. Bullets hailed into the streets while they waited for a lull.

There, he perked, there it was. He moved, scanning the room quickly before overturning a table and ducking behind it. The bullets embedding themselves into the smooth metal of the laboratory table.

A lab was unexpected, it spoke of permanence and residency in this city- their city -nevertheless, a lab was a welcomed find.

He knew that the other teams would be breaching now, coming in from the doors they found. Jace's team was the distraction, drawing focus and bullets, and it was the reason he had some of the best members in the initial breaching group.

Jace trusted his people to move in behind him, upending their own lab tables and securing the positions. He didn't expect to be assaulted by the smell of coffee and vanilla and flaming red hair against a tight black top.

She was here, the frontal assault, right beside him. Her green eyes bore into his and she was here in the bullets. He didn't understand. She was supposed to be with Will.

The golden haired man watched, almost in awe, as she slid the slider back. Seconds after the bullet loaded into the chamber she twisted and crouched, fingerpad of her right index on the trigger. With a quick motion her arms were raised and she was firing back, bodies fell. Jace watched as the red headed enigma fired five shots and fell five bodies.

She ducked behind the table as bullets rained down again, hitting metal. She glanced at him, porcelain skin slightly flushed from adrenaline. He must have been pulling a face because she cocked an eyebrow and mouthed "What?" before looking around at the other men behind tables.

Glancing back, Clary looked him up and down, she evaluated him. "Your back open?" she asked before darting up and watching again.

Not waiting for an answer, Jace watched as Clary ran quickly to the nearest wall and ducked behind a pillar. She was… wow, he thought, staring after her.

He barely felt hands on either side of his face before Alec was the only thing he saw. The head of straight black hair was in his face, Alec's hands fumbling around his body- poking and prodding to oblivion.

Jace barely heard the panicked voice of his brother in all but blood over the bullets from both sides. "Where are you shot? Jace!"

A quick slap to his face, Jace barely felt it. "JACE!"

The blond in question shook his head to dispel the thoughts. "I'm fine!" he yelled back. Curious as to why Alec was hovering over him like an expectant father. "I'm good."

Hands still cradling his face, the words did nothing to calm Alec who still had worry laced and tightened throughout his features. With a look Jace couldn't distinguish, Alec told him to get his head back to the present.

Unwillingly, Jace looked at the redhead. All he could feel was awe of her.

When Jace tore his gaze away, Alec was looking at her too. With another unreadable look on his face, Alec lightly poked Jace on the cheek with a single finger- the same way he would when they were toddlers and children -before running to a table further away from the door.

Cursing himself, Jace saw that his men, the people he was supposed to be leading, were all in front of him doing what they were supposed to do.

He ran up and joined them, taking the time to look around at the empty cages and long black bags.

Off to his left someone screamed and he saw a body drop- one of theirs. The poor kid, pale in complexion, had a bullet through the skull. Worst of all, there wasn't any blood. Looks Jace had seen on too many other kids' faces, his eyes were open and there was no blood coming from the wound, even gravity giving no repreaval for the blood.

He needed to refocus, a clear head when all he saw was fog. It was thick- the kind that rolled over Manhattan from the East and Hudson.

The curls slapped his face and he violently shook his head. Upon another look as Jace shot down some more of their men, the Circle was well on their way to taking the warehouse.

The last of the Grandiose personnel fell soon after, the pops trailing off like the end of popcorn kernels.

There were doors to offices that littered the sides of the warehouse- he didn't see that, why didn't he? -he thought to himself. Him missing details was new.

Without his instruction, the men started opening doors to look for stragglers or other people. He usually gave these orders, controlled how the op went… not now though. Jace felt like he was drowning slowly, confused about up and down.

He came back to himself quickly when a woman screamed. Jace's head jerked and he saw Clary storming out from one of the offices in the back, murder written in her eyes. That was when he noticed the woman on the ground, a lightly tanned blond in a tactical vest.

She had her hands up, voice a myriad of melodic throat sounds interrupted by a flick of her tongue. Jace didn't know what the woman was saying or the language she was speaking but, based on the look in Clary's eyes, the blond was lying.

Clary flicked the right blade out, threatening stance and bared teeth. In that moment, she looked like a wolf.

A circle was forming around them, filling in gaps and making blockages. No one was raising their rifles though.

Jace pushed through the men in time to see Clary punch the woman in the mouth, all tight curves with a whipping braid.

The woman pulled a serrated knife from a sheath behind her back and held it loosely in her left hand, recovering quickly.

Jace stepped forward, pulling a small pistol from a holster on his hip. Just as he was about to step into the circle with the women, a hand pressed against his shoulder. To his side was Will, shaking his head at him. "While you were out of commission- don't give me that look of course Alec told me! -she stepped up. Back off little brother." his cousin told him.

For whatever reason, Will was taking her side on his op.

With an eye roll, Jace resigned himself to watching and waiting.

Out of the corner of his eye Jace saw as the woman took an arcing swing at Clary. With a light backbend, the redhead completely dodged the blade. Instead she used the momentum of her backbend to swing and kick out her foot and kick the blond woman in the jaw, whipping her head around.

Bent knees, Clary returned to a resting position with her fists curled loosely at her sides. The blond woman had at least a half a foot and twenty pounds of muscle.

"Where are they?" Clary asked, voice cold and unemotional. Her face was blank, a sheet of polished porcelain.

The blond wiped her mouth, blood dribbling from the corner. "I don't know." A raise of the eyebrow and a playful smile loitering on pinked lips.

No emotion crossed Clarys face, not even her eyes. Faster than Jace could track, Clary lunged with the blade, fainting a thrust before quickly jabbing the other woman's kidney with impossible precision.

Jace watched in awe- it seemed to be the only word he could think of -as the redhead took the woman to the ground with her knees around the blonds neck. The blonds knife skittered away on the pavement, harsh scraping sounds trailing behind it.

Clary held her blade to the woman's neck, face unmoving. "Where are they?"

The blond was unwavering. Clary let her up and pushed her into the wall of the circle. With a quick- "Hold her boys." -the woman was tight with an order that should have been Jaces.

Clary looked at the blond appraisingly. Jace could see how she looked the blond up and down, barely lasting a glance in some places. The only estrogen in the room and it was against one another.

A quick slash was all anyone saw of the metallic blades, glint in the bright lights. Wells of blood appeared from a shallow cut in the girl's armour protecting her torso.

A drop fell from the blade, all it would give the floor. "Tell me and I'll stop. Promise." this was said with the quirk of a smile, twist of the lips. The wry look unbecoming of her pale features, pale lips- barely blush in color -and pale skin.

Another slash, deeper this time, and a groan from the blond.

It seemed Clary preferred to slash and cut her way through the problem. It certainly wasn't the most efficient- Jace had been all but trained in this, experience was the best teacher -but it was brutal and they didn't have time for nice and succinct.

Another slash and another until her chest and thighs were littered in it. Jace watched as Clary took her bowie knife, speaking as she pulled it from its sheath. "The outer thigh is where epinephrine pens are injected. Do you know why?" she asked, trailing the knife up her own thigh.

"It's because there is muscle, so much muscle in that one place on your body.

"Now the needle of an epinephrine pen is small, thin, and ultimately will cause no lifelong damages. This knife though…" a dark chuckle escaped from chapped lips as the crowd of men hung onto her words- their lips stuck in fish hooks to hers, "this knife will give you severe damage. That is if the Circle lets you live." The knife was on the blond's thigh now, cutting through the fabric of her pants and revealing the tanned flesh underneath.

The tip of the knife kissed her flesh and a small droplet welled. The blond squirmed, unable to get away from Clary and the men holding her. With a quick hand, the blade- with its dull edge and serrated edge -sunk to the hilt and she screamed. A desperate cry falling from bitten red lips shortly after.

Tears fell from her eyes as red began staining the tan of her pants, both normal and human responses to her stimulus. Jace had been around enough scenes like this to know.

It was only Clarys cold voice that brought his attention back to her. "Where are they?" same voice, toneless and flat. The only emotion being fake. "Tell me."

Clary held up her other knife, the smaller one with a rubber handle, and twirled it with well practiced precision. Where she learned that, Jace didn't know. It was another thing he desperately wanted to learn about her yet, it another distraction.

She ran it around the cut parts on the blonde, unrelenting and almost playful. The knife wasn't breaking skin but it was certainly intimidating to be on the receiving end.

Another sentence from Clary, another whimper from the blond, and finally she was spilling.

A small sob broke, fractured and bleeding from her lips- dripping like her skin. "I don't know where they are! B-B-B-But they have me take them to a building by the ocean."

With the knife now in her face, the broken woman was sobbing. A light thrust, not enough to touch her, from Clary and the other woman was blubbering through another sentence as she shied away from the blade in her face.

"I don't know anything else!"

The blond woman was falling apart at the seams. She obviously wasn't a trained recruit so why- out of all the people in the building -did Clary choose to single her out and torture her? There was something Clary knew that he didn't.

With any other person, he would have already stepped in. It was his mission and his op and his ass on the line if this went end-over-ass. Yet, as he watched the girl who had controlled him so wholly with just a glance and the mind of a genius, Jace couldn't find it within himself to do anything but watch. If it had been anyone else, Jace would have shaken off his brothers hand and stormed into the makeshift circle. This was her though. All he could do was watch patiently and silently and feel proud as she broke every single negative thought in his boys' heads.

"She's yours."

The words woke him up again. Clary had somehow come to stand right in front of him, when he didn't know. She walked silently and he was lost, tumbling through his thoughts like thunderstorms in the summer.

A very inelegant sound, somewhere between a 'yes' and a 'sure' fell down his mouth and splattered onto the concrete floor.

Jace told his boys to cuff her and move her to the vans. Clary had popped off to somewhere and he searched for red as the sea of people moved.

A glimmer here, a flash there, as the crowd thinned out. The clean up crew would be there any second- to clean both the blood and the bodies and to return the warehouse to something the police could search and find nothing in.

He finally found her talking with her brother. They were arguing, grand gestures and red faces being indicative of explosions yet to come.

Jace arrived at their corner around the same time that Gideon and Gabriel did. All three of them making eye contact, silently willing to put off the filial feuds that their parents had incited long ago.

No one actually knew what the feuds were about. Money, power, status, inheritance, and a head at the table being probable causes. Either way, the children had long since come to an understanding with one another.

For Gideon and Gabriel to brave the lion's den of his father's company and side business, Jon must have meant a lot to them.

They arrived to a sitting Jon, face red and wildly gesturing. Jace may have not known what it was about yet, he would do his best to stay on the good side of the red headed bombshell.

He caught the tail end of the conversation, Clary flashing a light around his face, and it was something regarding her education and status.

She turned to him, big green expectant eyes. "Tell this moron that he needs to go to the hospital." her voice was forceful, leaving no room for argument. Regardless, Jace promised himself to never argue with her- at least not too much.

Before he could get a word in though, the blond man on the floor spoke up, tone biting. "I'm fine." he said, like a parent to a child, speaking to her in a condescending tone.

A shot from a bullet, Clary fired back. "Which one of us is the doctor?"

An eye roll and a finger was all she received.

Deciding to step in and actually learn what was going on, Jace knelt and took a better look at Jon. The tall man was usually tan, time in the desert did that to a person- Jace had asked Gideon where they were -yet he was pale and almost sickly under the bright overhead lights of the warehouse. Taking a closer look at the other man's dark irises, Jace noticed that his pupils were different sizes.

He looked back and up at Clary, confusion evident on his face. "What's wrong with his eyes?"

Another eye roll- it must have been a familial trait -and she explained. "There's pressure on his brain. Either he goes to the hospital now or I get him there when he goes unconscious. He has a right to refuse treatment until he can't anymore." She shrugged lightly, nonchalance resting on her face. Her body, though, was tense and stressed, creases were deepened around her mouth and forehead.

"We'll take him." voices near Jace- Gideon and Gabriel -spoke up. The men looked at their friend, disapproving looks written across their face and tied between their brows.

With a nod, Clary stepped aside. The brothers quickly took her place, lifting him and half walking/half carrying him out of the warehouse.

Before Jace even knew what he was doing, he asked Clary if she was ok. He wasn't thinking and her reaction proved that it was the wrong thing to say. A steel mask dropped the second he said those words, everything about her became sharper and more aggressive.

"Im fine." Short and undoubtedly unsweet, she told him before she walked off.

One of his boys, one he didn't know by name, came up and informed him that they were leaving in two minutes. Apparently they had managed to get an address from the now barely coherent woman.

He followed the last of his men, watching as the cleaning crew, dressed in a fake yellow hazmat, started working on scrubbing the drying and pooled blood that stained the smooth floors.

He followed them out to the vans, men and women hanging off the backs of them. Some of them began rolling away and with a slap on the back of the van he hopped on, theirs rolled away. It was times like these, when he had nothing to steal his focus, that his injuries demanded and stole his attention away. The pain that had been so dutifully repressed by adrenaline and sheer stubbornness always came screaming and kicking back at these in-between moments.

Looking around, he had lost Jordan and Alec in the mix of people, many faces moving many places made a great concealment. It was not uncommon for them to venture and end up on different vans.

The ride was unspectacular. It was the early hours of the morning, only 3-4am and the sun had not yet risen. Though it was the city that never slept, 3 am saw the return of partiers to their apartments and it was still a couple hours shy of when the early workers would end up at work.

Raids and other things usually happened earlier in the night then this. The darker hues of midnight were always a better cover than the beginning hues of the morning. When Jace and whoever chose to sleep in the house would return, it would be these hours of the morning. It was the only time he felt like one could take a breath in the city that never slept, the only time that it could be considered 'sleeping'.

Jace looked up at the clouds, dark and ominous. It had rained just days ago and, from the colors, it looked as if they would be pouring again in a few hours.

Jace breathed a sigh, watching the ground and the sky as he raced around the back alleys of New York on the back of a falsely labelled van doing things that people could only call unsavory.

It was hilarious really, he thought as they arrived at this new building, the things he did were things that people always swore they could never do. He learned a long time ago though… everyone was a killer, you just had to apply the right pressure.

People never realized just how far they would go in instances that they could never dream of and, as he surveyed the other men around him- still decidedly not looking for a flash of red -he saw how young, innocent, and full of hope they were.

There were many things that he loathed about his life and job, the hours, secrecy, and threat of jail time to name a few. However, one thing that he hated was how it turned young boys into men, breaking them in the process. Everytime he watched men- boys really -as they fought and watched as they died or killed, he remembered why he didn't want kids. He didn't want children to grow up in this… this… this- thing that he did. He didn't want to slowly watch the loss of his humanity that he saw in the boys that joined their ranks.

He hopped off the van, boys and men following. He grabbed his rifle, holding it aloft. He trusted his boys to fall in rank behind him, preparedness on a certain location wasn't always a guarantee.

They walked, a shorter distance this time, around the corner and to the warehouse. It stood, docks to one side and a street to the other, side by side with warehouses in their forms of rank and file.

He walked slowly, knees bent, and waited for his phone to buzz. It was Will's job as his number two to send the new location to Simon, who would then find schematics and receipts. Jace was expecting a floor plan and paper history any minute now.

As they were moving into position, his phone buzzed. Taking it out of his pocket on his thigh, Jace saw the schematics. A very large basement, two floors with offices lining the walls of both, and an open middle section of the bottom floor.

Jace knew that the picture was already circulating with his other groups, aiding them in where to breach. In this case, Will was in the most favorable position to draw the fire. Now it was Jace's job to wait patiently for a signal.

A slam and a crash came from one side of the warehouse, but no bullets. Except for the isolated incident, it was silent.

The door next to Jace was pushed open, Jace raising his rifle to meet the other end. Instead of Grandiose personnel, his rifle muzzle was kissing the forehead of a boy wearing black- one of the youngest ones too.

Jace glowered and stormed past, dropping his rifle to rest by the shoulder straps. Storming in, he saw a flash of red up on the second floor. Ignoring it, he looked for black.

"What the fuck Will?" he yelled when he found the man.

The curly black haired man shrugged, careless and tired. "I don't know. We breached and no one fired… so I went in with my boys. As you can see we're in the process of clearing the whole building."

Another shrug, another careless gesture. "Hopefully I can get to Tessa before daybreak. She worries."

Jace just shook his head. He felt he would never understand the draw to another person like that. Sure, he disliked the job but… he couldn't imagine giving it up for a woman. What would he do then?

As his thoughts swirled, he was oblivious to the redhead searching one of the main offices on the second floor. It was only as an explosion rocked the building that he realized Clary had ducked into that office. Smoke billowed out and his heart stopped. He cared.

So this is love…

A/N2:

Responding to reviews:

~lizzieherondale: Here's the update! Sorry the wait was so long. Uni has been kicking my ass.

~stardust128: Thank you! I thought that particular line was suuuuuuper cheesy but I'm glad you liked it! I tried to do a similar thing in this chapter but with Jace.

~SkyBell1272: I've only been away from my family for 2 months but I know that I will still have the same little things that I've always had with my family. I'm really glad that you don't think the storys going by quickly. I didn't want to draw it out but I also didn't want to rush in and rush what I really want to be a deep and special relationship between them. Anyways… I'm rambling. I'm glad you are enjoying it.

~Jling: Thank you! I feel like I add weird details but… at the same time… we all see the world in a different way. I'm glad you feel like you're there! I actually imagine what the next chapter would be- watching Clary and Jace in my head -before I write it. I'm glad that my method seems to be working!

~TouchMyMangoFuckers: Wow… Ok… Where to start. Ummm. Thank you? I laughed my ass off when I read your reviews. So ummm… Vine was kinda before my time. When Vine hit its climax I was like… 12 years old. Maybe 11? And I didnt have a phone. And um… here's the update? I still laugh when I read this. Please leave more reviews. It brought me some light in the darkness that was my chem midterm. And sorry… the explosions, while it happened in this chapter, will actually be more in the next one. The next chapter will pick up with Clarys viewpoint.

Other stuff:

Do me a favor and review. I love it. Also vote on my poll on FF for what story you would like to see next. The options are ATLA but I don't know which one to do next (the first chapter of each is up. The second will be up soon at which point I will not be adding to them until one has been chosen and Happenstance is finished. The poll will be up until I'm finished with Happenstance. So yah… Vote and review!