This is probably going to wrap up within one or two chapters because I have more and better ideas for the sequel, which will be very much M rated.

"Sebastian, I'm not sure we should be friends anymore." Clary said abruptly, having thought about what Jace said.

"Is this about Jace?" He guessed accurately. "Because he's just jealous. I'd be the same way."

She was not interested in Seb and Jace being the same at all. She didn't for a moment like the implications of it.

"He's just worried." She corrected firmly. "You and I have…fought…pretty horribly. He doesn't want that to happen again, is all."

"I'm sure you're right." He said finally, forcing nonchalance into his tone. Did Sebastian see something she didn't? Was this a takes-one-to-know-one situation?

This is what she hated. Jace could say one thing and Sebastian another and they would both seem to be right.

"You don't seem to be too sure." She stated lightly.

"Listen, this is just an opinion, okay? He just seems kind of possessive and bossy, even the hickey…"

"Hickey?!" She had not been aware of this hickey

"Is kind of like claiming property. But you know him best and besides, I'm biased, because I never liked him, so you're probably right." He got up.

"No," she sighed, changing her mind, "stay. He just…worries too much." She asserted once more, hoping she wasn't trying to convince herself.

I'd be the same way.

Possessive.

Bossy.

It's like claiming property.

She needed to talk to Izzy. Soon.

But she needed space first.

Apparently word is annoying about linebreaks…..

"Mom?" Clary said, trying to keep any hint of ulterior motive out of her voice. "Can we go to Luke's farmhouse this weekend?"

"Sure, Clary." Jocelyn answered, surprised.

"Any particular reason, kiddo?" Added Luke, a knowing tone in his voice.

"No…no particular reason. Umm…Hem." She hurriedly walked away lest she give up the ghost.

Both adults watched her go, confusion clouding their features. They looked at each other.

"Boy problems?"

"She never did tell us about those bruises. Do you think…"

"Not Jace," Jocelyn interrupted his train of thought instantly. "That happened the day she broke up with Sebastian if you recall. Jace looks at her like she's a goddess among mortals," Jocelyn continued, unaware of Clary's eavesdropping. "He looks at her like we look at each other."

Could that be? Clary had always thought any girl would be lucky to find someone that loved them half as much as Luke loved her mother.

"That's true," Luke agreed, to Clary's astonishment. Just the idea that someone loved her like her parents (because Luke may as well have been her "real" dad) loved each other was almost incomprehensible to her.

She filed that away to ponder over during their three day weekend out of the city.

Linebreak…

Clary only had to avoid Jace for two days, but given their usual pattern of behavior, it couldn't have been more obvious that she was. Lugging around every book rather than stop at her locker and working on a project in the art room over lunch—which she 'didn't want to be distracted from'—was not the norm for Clary.

After successfully avoiding him for an entire day and six hours and fifty-five minutes, it was in the last twenty minutes of Friday he finally caught her. "Hey, love," he said out of breath from chasing her, "did I do something?" He asked, confusion and apology written all over his face.

"I'm not sure." She told him, slowly and honestly, though not elaborating. "I'm confused right now. We'll talk again Tuesday, I promise. And I love you." That was about the only thing she was sure of at the moment. "I just…need to sort some things out." Debating with herself for a moment, she finally kissed his cheek and attempted a smile before practically running in the direction of a bus station. She had taken the bus yesterday, as well, but public transport was still discomfiting.

Too many creepy-pastas took place in subway tunnels for her to feel anything less than paranoid; so did horror movies, and real-life murders for that matter.

So, there was that.

She wasn't a good target for most crimes, really. She didn't carry any valuables, nor wear them. She didn't dress up or look rich. She tried to fade into the background so as not to draw attention to herself. She guessed her red hair would make her pretty valuable in the sex trade but she had too few curves to be attractive and too many to look like a kid, and did not appear strong enough to do much manual labor, so she was pretty much safe from being trafficked, too. (I don't know; I'm making this up.)

An old-fashioned mugging just for giggles was the only thing she worried about and with so many people around—including cops—that was unlikely to happen, especially during the day.

Nobody ever said logic could prevent you from being frightened; it just overrode it, allowing you to think through the slight panic which was so natural in situations that made you uncomfortable.

She just had to get home and they'd be leaving for Luke's farmhouse.

Linebreak….

"Tell me all about it honey," the Fray matriarch gently ordered sitting beside her daughter.

"I just feel like I'm Icarus," Clary said slowly, tracing the patterned quilt on her temporary bed, "and he's the sun. Lately he's been trying to tell me who to hang out with and kind of being possessive." Jocelyn frowned, not having observed any of these things. From what she had seen Jace almost worshipped Clary and she, in turn, loved him. The kind of love story people would read about.

"What brought you to these conclusions?" She asked neutrally.

Aware of how it sounded, Clary spoke unsurely. "Talking to Sebastian."

Jocelyn nodded. "There's a little guesswork here, but Sebastian's the one that hit you, isn't he? He's manipulated you in the past. So what you should ask yourself is: if he'd never said anything about Jace would you still be feeling this way?"

"No," the younger redhead knew the answer instantly and, feeling stupid for letting her ex get under her skin and into her head, she mentally facepalmed. She paused for a moment. "I heard you, the other day. You really think he loves me as much as Luke loves you?"

Jocelyn smiled, brushing a hand over her daughter's hair, "Honey, I think the two of you are Marc Antony and Cleopatra reincarnate." She offered a soft smile.

Clary bit her lip, "Didn't Cleopatra commit suicide when he was killed?"

"Well, yeah," she scrunched her nose, "skip that part."

Clary giggled and then Jocelyn's smile lit up the room, "But do the whole madly in love thing."