It was a bright, sunny day when Clary found herself wishing for the numb slog her life had been for so long. If she was numb, she wouldn't have to deal with the dizzying sensations that had been tearing through her like a whirlwind since the night she'd just had with Jonathan.

You practically attacked him. The quiet voice in her mind insisted. Now everything is different and no amount of denial will change that.

Clary decided that voice could go right ahead and fuck itself because denial was quickly becoming one of her best skills.

The truth was, she didn't know why she'd done it. Why she had turned into that wanton, violent creature in such a flash. That day had been such a confusing mix of pleasant and terrifying that she still didn't know how to properly categorize it. She'd meant the things she said to him. He confused her, kept her unbalanced, but the other things, the wicked, wanton things...well she frankly couldn't think too hard about those right now. At least she didn't want to, and yet there was the damn voice again, whispering incessantly. Blaming.

Had she finally just broken? Was too much and too long of his focused attention the straw that broke the camel's back? Had it been temporary insanity? The need to be in control of her life for just a moment? Was she truly falling into something dangerous and wrong with a demon? It wasn't love, she remembered that. Love with Jace had been sweet and joyous. It had lifted her spirits when she was down and consumed her thoughts when he was away. So what was this? What the hell was she doing?

Clary sighed into her mug of tea, now cold as she'd been standing in the kitchen staring out the small window for nearly half an hour now. She'd come in here to make herself something to eat, but that shot right out the window the moment Jonathan had walked through the living room. She'd caught sight of him, dressed in only a pair of jeans with his shirt slung over his shoulder, searching for his second boot. His hair had been damp from the shower, and the short, wet strands curled slightly in their disarray. The moment he noticed her watching, he'd frozen, face carefully blank. Watching her back. He didn't speak before he turned and went back to his boot hunt, and she got the distinct impression that he was just as thrown by the night's unfolding as she had been. He'd been out of the bed when she woke, keeping himself suspiciously busy, and if she wasn't mistaken, avoiding her as surely as she was doing the same.

So here they were, caught in a holding pattern, each of them confused and wondering what it all meant, and more importantly what would come of it. Here she was holding cold tea and wishing she could melt into the floor rather than face the beast that had become her life. She didn't know where he'd disappeared to, but she was sure he wasn't in the apartment. The place was eerily silent. A great still creature that watched her in silent judgement. Clary knew of course that the walls weren't sentient, but the silence left nothing for her but her thoughts.

She set down her mug with another sigh, brushing her fingers back through her hair. If she was going to be trapped here alone, she might as well keep herself occupied. At least that way she couldn't stop and think about any of the terrible things her mind insisted she analyze. She decided cleaning was the best bet. The apartment wasn't exactly cluttered, but it clearly hadn't been used much before they arrived. Dust was everywhere, so she decided to start with that. She even managed to make it through two rooms before the front door opened and her thoughts scattered into a flurry once more. Jonathan paused in the hallway, resting his hand on the doorframe to quirk an eyebrow up at her in question while she furiously dusted a shelf of old books.

"Are you the maid now?" He asked with an almost hesitant note of humor. The small sign that he was still uneasy didn't help to sooth her own racing mind. Clary gave him a single shouldered shrug, moving to the next shelf.

"I needed something to do," she replied honestly.

"You're bored." He stepped into the room, but didn't move further than a foot from the doorway. Was he trying to guage how comfortable she was around him, or simply keeping himself away?

"Well yeah," she shrugged again, her voice flat. "I was told this would be a trip to torture town, and here I am, left alone and with nothing to do."

She regretted the words the moment they slipped out of her stupid mouth. It was so easy to set him off and he had proven before that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if he had to. Clary went very still, waiting for a casual threat or for him to ambush her, but he didn't move. Instead Jonathan gave a soft, low sigh and tilted his head to regard her curiously.

"Have you eaten?"

Clary watched him from the corner of her eyes, shocked that he hadn't risen to the bait, and shook her head. Then he shocked her further.

"Do you want to go out?"

The duster she was holding slipped down the shelves in her hand and she blinked. She turned to face him, sure her confusion was written clearly across her face.

"You mean...outside? Like where the other people exist?"

He laughed at that, covering it quickly. "Well yes, that is the idea. We could go get something good to eat. Something that doesn't come from a can or a frozen bag."

"And you'd trust me to..." she trailed off, not sure how to say it and not wanting to ruin what seemed to be one of his strangely generous moods.

His expression didn't change. Still infuriatingly placid. Carefully controlled. She really hated when he did that. "I kind of figured you'd enjoy being in public again, rather than wasting it on making a scene. I mean, how long has it been since you saw anything outside of the estate in Alicante?"

"Let's see," Clary pretended to think hard, tapping a finger against her lip. "Other than here, that would be...I have no idea."

"So?" He prompted, stepping back out into the hall as if to hurry her along.

She had to admit the idea of going somewhere, anywhere other than that damned house, was massively appealing. The problem was she still felt her heart flutter anxiously at the thought of spending a day with him. Then there were the other problems.

"You would trust me not to..." She trailed off again, her eyes searching his face.

Jonathan gave the slightest of questioning smiles. "Not to what, Clary?"

"Run." She figured it was best just to ask outright. It seemed so strange that he would be willing to take her anywhere he couldn't completely control the situation. "You trust me not to run away?"

The whisper of a smile melted away and she watched his black eyes harden just a fraction. It was anger, but it was only slight. As if she'd just hurt his feelings.

"What would be the point in running?" His tone was flat, cold enough to convey just how daft a notion he thought it was. Suddenly, she remembered why it wouldn't matter and she kicked herself for being so stupid. Of course he wasn't afraid of her escaping. Even if she tried, the branded rune on her back would lead him directly to her. She deflated slightly, turning to set the duster on Valentine's empty desk.

"Right," she agreed. "I suppose there isn't one." Her hand went back through her hair, avoiding his black eyes because they were uncomfortably fixed on her face, awaiting her answer. "Then yes. I guess I'd like to go out."

He nodded once, tapping his fingers on the door frame and turned to walk down the hall, calling over his shoulder. "I'll be in the living room while you get ready."

She didn't respond. Didn't really know what to say or what to think. An outing sounded like absolute heaven after so long locked away, but an outing with Jonathan seemed almost dangerous. She decided that she would take it in stride. He wouldn't do anything to her if they were in a public place, she reasoned. At least on that she was about sixty percent sure. Clary shook away the thought and hurried to his room, digging through her meager selection of clothes. She wasn't sure when he'd gotten them, or how, but she was grateful for the ability to change since her other pair of jeans were ruined.

She couldn't believe she'd forgotten about her new rune, though the brand hadn't been bothering her much today. Whatever was in the salve he obtained from his mysterious friend was certainly potent. Much more so than anything she, or she suspected their father, knew of. Even her leg was feeling better, and while she still had a slight limp, so could already move around on her own. At some point she would have to get him to confess what witch had created such a powerful medicine and didn't openly sell it, but that could come later. Right now, Clary just wanted to think of fresh air and mundane people and food from a restaurant.

She didn't take long to get ready. She didn't have many choices, but considering she had no idea where he would take her, she went with more jeans. Her shirt was a simple short sleeve blouse made of green silk, and her boots were a variant of the kind she might have worn when she was still a Shadowhunter. She felt comfortable and somewhat stylish, though not so much that she would draw unnecessary attention. Namely Jonathan's. It had been a good plan until she made it to the living room and found him slung across the couch, bouncing a boot against the side table. He went still when he saw her, his boot freezing mid-bounce and took a short breath through his nose. Clary felt that all too familiar quickening of her heart, her muscles tensing just a bit. It wasn't that she thought he would fly off and attack her...or perhaps she did. She found herself nervously filling the silence, pushing away memories of last night once again.

"I don't have any make up or anything, so this is the best I can do."

Jonathan's dark eyes took her in a moment before he pushed himself off the couch. "You don't need it. You're beautiful."

Her stomach knotted, her eyes falling to the floor, but thankfully he didn't press it. She really wished he wouldn't say things like that to her. It was too much, especially after what they had done.

Stop thinking about it Clary! Her inner voice chided, suddenly all too happy to live in denial town with her. If you don't, you'll have to hide from him again and then you'll never get to go outside!

Clary took a soft breath for courage and followed him as he walked toward the white plaster wall along the edge of the living room. For a moment she was confused, pausing to shoot him a questioning look before her grinned. She stiffened only briefly when he took her hand and stepped backwards, disappearing through the very wall. Her mouth opened to cry out as he tugged her after him, but the sudden sensation of floating overtook her. It lasted less than a second, as if they had pushed through the very fabric of space itself, and then she was standing on a street in broad daylight.

The first thing that struck her were the number of people milling about on the sidewalks. None of them seemed to notice the pair that had materialized out of nowhere, so she assumed the place was somehow cloaked. She turned to look back at the glassfront shop door they were suddenly standing in front of but before she could question it, Jonathan tugged her into motion. She might have even complained about this if not for the way the sun shone so brightly and welcoming down over her skin and the sounds of traffic and murmured conversations in passing swept over her like actual music.

It was strange that she had forgotten what it felt like to be outside. That the sights and sounds could be at once so foreign and familiar. Clary found herself looking around like a child in a toy store. Had color always been this bright? Had normal people always seemed so beautiful and interesting? Since when was the scent of exhaust so exilerating? She took it all in with delight, drank down the world she had been a stranger to for so long, and for the first time she could remember after Valentine took power, she felt a real smile stretching across her lips. The smile was infectious. As they came to a stop to wait for traffic to cross the street, she felt the warmth of it filling her chest, bubbling out through her entire body until she actually laughed out loud. The sound drew Jonathan's attention. He turned as if to ask what was funny but went still the moment he saw her expression. Something passed across his face before he managed to hide it away again, turning to check the cross walk again. She couldn't be sure, but she was almost certain it had been something close to awe, at the very least a small form of shock. Clary realized suddenly that he hadn't seen her smile like that since before Valentine's ascension to power. The sobering thought passed quickly. She couldn't help it as they crossed the narrow street in a throng of people, as if this was any normal day. As if she hadn't been a prisoner of her own family for more than a year.

"Where are we?" She asked as he guided her down a side street. He was still holding her hand, but she was too lost in her joy at a slice of freedom to care. This wasn't New York, that was certain. She could see the silver gleaming of skyscrapers off in the distance, but there were other buildings along the street they passed, buildings in bright colors and rustic townhomes. Jonathan paused just a moment, glancing around before he looked back at her.

"Milano," he replied simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to walk through a wall into an entirely different country. "There's a cafe a little further on. They make a killer espresso."

She nodded, not sure what exactly to say about it all. Not that she was upset by the strange and exciting new area, she'd just never been outside of the states. Unless of course one counted the various places she'd seen as a Shadowhunter, but that seemed almost like another lifetime.

Their pace slowed as Jonathan led her to an open cafe with tables set along the sidewalk, under a giant red canopy. She took in the various patrons. Women chatting over white mugs and men smoking or reading newspapers.

"How's your Italian?" Jonathan asked suddenly, leading her up to a small line that led to the host stand.

"Um...nonexistent?" She replied sheepishly. He chuckled, squeezing her hand slightly.

"That's fine. I've got you."

She felt a strange tug in her stomach at the words. It was such a strange turn from what had happened in the apartment. All the violence and fury that had passed between them. Once again she was on unsteady ground, caught between wanting to believe he could be kind, and the ever present anxiety that came from being around him. Suddenly her thoughts went to the strange day of pseudo-pampering he'd given her before. She remembered questioning it, and how quickly his mood had shifted from docile to aggression. She didn't want to chance that today of all days, so she remained silent, offering a slight smile instead.

Jonathan got them a table quickly, finally releasing her hand as he stepped up to the young woman in an ironed white shirt and tie. Her eyes went a little round when he first spoke to her. Clary didn't know Italian, but it seemed to flow from Jonathan's mouth as easily as English and for a moment the woman was taken aback. Except, Clary realized soon after, it wasn't the proficiency of language that had her so focused on him. When he turned to motion to a table off at the edge of the outdoor cafe, the young woman's eyes covertly slid up and down his frame. When he turned back she was smiling wider, scooping up a small laminated menu and gesturing for them to follow. Funny, because Clary had watched the two other groups before them seat themselves after she handed over their menus. Jonathan didn't seem to notice. He smiled back at Clary and they approached their table, settling in. The hostess set their menu on the table not even sparing Clary a glance, and just before she left she placed her hand on Jonathan's shoulder and said something in Italian that Clary assumed was along the lines of 'let me know if you need anything else'. Her fingers lingered just a moment too long before she returned to her post, sneaking glances his way and whispering to one of her coworkers. Clary couldn't help the soft chuckle that bubbled up out of her, turning back to see Jonathan engrossed in the menu. He hadn't noticed a thing, and frankly that struck her as odd. For a man who always seemed to have sex on his mind, how was he so oblivious to her flirtation?

"What kind of food are you feeling?" He asked. "They make great sandwiches, and soups I guess, but it's a bit warm for that."

"Surprise me with a sandwich. Just no weird cheeses."

He scanned the menu she couldn't even begin to read with a slight nod, completely unaware of the hostess returning with a smile and a small basket of wonderful smelling breadsticks. When he didn't acknowledge her in the slightest, her smile fell just a bit and her eyes slid briefly to Clary. The distaste in them was clear and she made no attempt to hide it before returning once more to her post at the front of the cafe, somewhat deflated. Another soft giggle bubbled out of Clary and this time Jonathan looked up.

"What?"

"Oh nothing." She shrugged, grabbing a breadstick and taking a small bite. It was delicious. "That hostess was just giving you the eye."

"The what now?" He frowned slightly, glancing over her shoulder to the host stand before his eyes returned to her and he lifted a brow in question.

"Well you're dressed like a vampire in one of those sexy teen dramas, so I think she was a little taken."

"I'm...not sure if that's a compliment or not." Jonathan glanced down at the dark blue button-down shirt he wore. The sleeves were rolled up at his elbows, exposing the well defined muscles of his forearms. She'd already noticed the fitted style of his dark jeans, rolled up at the ankles to hang just below the tops of his black boots. Clary tried never to pay attention to Jonathan's personal style, but with his platinum hair in slight disarray from the brisk walk and his dark eyes, she silently admitted he looked handsome today. Not that she would ever tell him that.

"Well it isn't a bad thing I suppose." Clary shrugged, taking another bite of breadstick.

"Suppose?" He replied pointedly.

"She gave us free breadsticks." She brandished the proof with a grin. It shouldn't have been this fun to tease him. Not after everything. Maybe she was actually starting to lose her mind.

He laughed at that, watching her from across the table with a type of scrutiny she couldn't quite translate. "I think they do that for all the customers, Clary."

"Well that guy only got two. We have a whole basket." She leaned in conspiratorially and smirked. "I'm pretty sure she's fishing for your number. She plans to steal you away."

"Then she's doomed to fail. I'm here with you. Why would I care about other women?"

Suddenly all the mirth fizzled out in her chest. She'd meant it as a joke of course, something lighthearted to keep with the mood of this bright and sunny day, but the way he looked at her then, so closely, the heat behind his dark eyes...

I only have eyes for you

The line of the old song ran through her head and she sat back in her seat. She suddenly remembered how unnerving she found the tune, how many horror movies featured it in their soundtracks. The joy of her day was diminished just a bit by the reminder that this was not simply a day on the town. She was here with Jonathan, and he could be more dangerous and persistent than anyone she had ever known.Yes, he was being kind, but that kindness in all likelihood was a smokescreen. He was lulling her into a false sense of security again, trying to erase the intensity and confusion of the previous night before she could shut down because of it. Suddenly, and for no reason she could properly name, a face flashed through her mind with unnaturally green eyes.

"So as long as I'm around then. Good to know you prioritize."

He flinched slightly at her sudden turn in tone, searching her face in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

She folded one arm across her chest, daintily taking the last bite of her breadstick. "Well it must be somewhat difficult to juggle so many suitors. Like that witch."

"Kesi?" He asked incredulously.

She shrugged in a noncommittal motion. She wasn't really sure why she had brought it up, nor why the idea seemed to irritate her so much. The woman was a bitch, she knew that much. She'd helped in branding Clary, so she decided her distinct dislike must stem from that.

For a short moment Jonathan squinted at her in confusion, his mouth open just slightly as he gave a short laugh that held no real humor. "Are you...jealous?"

The question made her snap her hand down loud enough against the glass top that the woman at the next table glanced over curiously. Clary leaned in as much to keep their conversation private as to make sure he could see the indignation on her face.

"I am not jealous of anyone you sleep with Jonathan. That is your business and it should stay that way."

"Right," he nodded sarcasm coloring his otherwise jovial tone. "You just brought it up because...nope. Still can't think of another legitimate reason for you to give two shits about Kesi."

"Well I don't know Jonathan," Clary snapped in a hushed tone. "Maybe because she helped you brand me."

His dark eyes slid across the rest of the cafe, noting that no one was listening in before he leaned closer as well, resting his forearm against the table. Tension slowly took the line of his shoulders, his expression slipping into that infuriatingly unreadable mask.

"This is not the place to talk about that Clarissa." She hated that he was using her full name in such a patronizing tone. Like she was an unruly child throwing a tantrum in public. Her eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest defensively.

"Great. Then we can talk about the ethics of mutilating your family back at the apartment later. Sounds fun."

Jonathan gave a short, hollow chuckle. His eyes didn't leave her and the tension in his shoulders tightened just the slightest bit more. "Sure. After that we can discuss your fixation on the other women in my life, and why it bothers you so much."

"I never said it bothered me," she hissed, realizing too late that her voice was louder than she'd intended. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and leaned in a little more, bringing them only a foot or so apart. "It doesn't bother me. Have sex with any of the random people you want."

"Any of them?" He arched a brow. The implication in his tone and the way he was looking at her again made heat rise against her cheeks. She sat back slightly, looking around again as if someone might sense it and point at her in accusation. As if somehow they would know her shameful secret.

"Jonathan!" She whispered harshly. "We're in public."

To that he laughed out loud, sitting back in his chair. "No one here knows who we are, and it's not as if they're going to guess our genealogy by looking at us. In case you haven't noticed, we don't share many physical traits."

"Will you shut up," she snapped. Her head was spinning. It felt like the whole cafe was listening in, even though she knew their conversation was too quiet to make out. Jonathan motioned to her with another laugh.

"You're the one who brought up my sex life. And while we're on the subject, I'd like to admit all the slapping was...hmm, kinky, but let's avoid the face in the future."

Her eyes shot wide, her mouth bobbing just a moment in shock. For the first time that day she noticed the slightest of marks on his cheekbone. It was only a small discoloration, hardly noticeable and he healed so quickly, but now that she had seen the proof of last night, it made her flush with embarrassment. She could feel the heat rising across her face, knowing she was red as a beet. The demon was unperturbed of course, and continued to torment her.

"I didn't mind the scratching though. You're welcome to do that next time."

"There will not be a next time you arrogant-"

At that moment a waiter approached their table, smiling amiabily as he pulled a pen and pad from his black apron. Clary sat back in her seat, clearing her throat and doing her best to smile as if she didn't want to melt into the floor. Jonathan's eyes remained locked on her face a moment more, knowing she would feel her shame even more deeply now that someone had walked up to them. The made up cafe psychics in her head didn't stop accusing her of shameful actions. Through all this, the waiter only smiled, as if he couldn't sense the strange tension between the pair.

"Hello," Clary said in her best 'nothing's going on here' voice. By the way he looked her up and down and smiled a little wider, she guessed it was working.

"Oh, Americans," the dark haired man said as if it were an exciting thing. He had only the slightest accent, and the longer Clary looked at him, the more she realized he was a good looking young man, not much older than Jonathan.

"I hope you're finding our city to be a pleasant place to visit." He said to Clary, glancing only briefly at Jonathan. Clary smiled brightly, happy for the distraction of a friendly, new person. She didn't miss that he had checked her out, and frankly she hoped it would irritate the demon across from her currently being ignored.

"So far, everything I've seen of this part of the city is very beautiful."

He chuckled softly, blue eyes twinkling as he did. She realized he was in fact, very good looking. "If you are looking for beautiful sights, why not explore the Santa Maria delle Grazie, look over Da Vinci's last supper."

"That actually sounds really nice," Clary grinned, glancing briefly at the demon sitting across from her, who was watching the waiter closely with a none too pleased expression.

Good, she thought and folded her arms across the table to lean toward the pretty man serving them.

"I've only ever seen pictures online. I'd love to see it in person. His art is world renowned for a reason."

The waiter placed a hand on the edge of the table, subtly leaning in a little closer to her as well. "A lover of art, eh?"

"Bit of an aspiring artist, so very much yes." She smiled sheepishly and tucked her hair back behind her ear.

"An artist?" The waiter smiled, raising his brows in surprise. "Well then this is certainly the city for you. I'd be happy to make a few suggestions for a lovely aspiring artist all the way from America."

That was about the point that Jonathan stopped being polite. His expression had darkened at the edges, his black eyes locked on the flirting waiter.

"She already has a tour guide, but you could put in our order instead, if that's not too much trouble."

The man's smile fell just a little as he stood straight, suddenly remembering that she wasn't alone. Clary shot him an apologetic smile and it returned just as quickly.

"Of course sir," he nodded to the menu. "How can we help you?"

Jonathan spoke a string of Italian words that had the waiter pausing for only a second before he graciously noted them down and glanced back at Clary.

"Anything to drink for the lady?" He asked with a wink, and Clary was almost sure she heard Jonathan's bones crack as he tightened his fist on the table top. He had no reason to be subtle about his displeasure now, and it wasn't as if he were afraid to hurt the man. Clary decided to sit back in her chair, but she kept the smile as the cute waiter watched her. Either he was oblivious to Jonathan's obvious irritation, or he was purposefully ignoring it to flirt with her. Either way, cute as he was, she didn't want to get anyone hurt.

"Do you serve hot chocolate?" She asked eagerly. The waiter grinned.

"Sweet tooth?"

"I can't help myself." She shrugged, realizing a little too late that it came out just as flirtatiously as her new short lived friend's tone. Jonathan sat forward in his seat setting his menu down a bit too loudly to go unnoticed. The waiter gave a half-heartedly apologetic smile and tucked his pen back into his apron.

"I'll go put this in for you," he grinned at Clary and turned to leave for the kitchen inside.

The silence when he left was almost deafening and Clary watched as Jonathan's black eyes followed the man's path with lazer focus.

"Did you enjoy that?" He asked, still watching him until he disappeared into the inner cafe. Clary frowned, crossing her arms to fix him with a hard stare. "Now who's jealous?"

He laughed sarcastically, inclining his head slightly. "I see. Well at least I'm man enough to admit it."

"He was just being nice. You should try it," she shot back with a raised eyebrow. Jonathan fixed her with a heavy stare, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together.

"Oh, I get it Clary. Tit-for-tat. The problem for you is that I'm better at this game than you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded. The demon gave her a dark smirk and sat back in his chair. Before she could demand he explain further, the waiter returned with their drinks, setting hers down with another wink before he left to help another table. This time, she offered only a gracious smile before he left, all to aware of the demon watching her over the rim of his espresso cup. The dark smile hadn't left his expression and she got the distinct impression he was plotting behind those intense, black eyes. When the waiter finally returned with their food, she was careful to keep her attention on her hot chocolate.