A/N: Huh, so I took longer than I expected! Hi guys! I'm still alive! Ok, before you say anything, yeah, i'm the worst updater ever. BUT! that's because i got a job (yay!) as a magazine writer and was pretty busy doing that, yeah :) So, yeah, it took me awhile to actually remember my stories and in truth, i sort of forgot the flow of Millennium Lint...so I had to reread my own work to get the juice going. Hahaha. :) anyway, this is the latest one, and it has a part 2! :D I split it because i didnt want my new updates to be so LOOONNG like my previous 3 chappies. IT was long and hard to read. :( Anyway, hope you like this chappie. :D If you do, please review (so I dont forget to do this again! hahaha, damn, memory. For how long will you scorn me?)

Feel free to tell me your thoughts and stuff about this chapter :D Well, uh, *gestures for you to read on* ?

MILLENNIUM LINT

Chapter 4: Unraveling

Clary let out a low growl, tapping her fingers on the table, restlessly. After a good ten minutes, she rubbed her temples and sighed.

"It's no good. I just can't think of a word that rhymes with sleep." Clary said to no one in particular. She set her pen down and crumpled the piece of paper she had been scribbling on earlier, then stuffed it into her purse. While thinking about the word sleep, she came to the realization that she particularly lacked it today. After Millennium Lint's performance at Taki's last night, the gang headed for another pub to celebrate the band's first (and only, Clary reckoned) successful performance. Clary smiled as she remembered all the hilarious expression Simon's friends had when they heard how loudly the crowd cheered for an encore. Despite herself, Clary was proud of her little experiments. It had taken a whole day, and a lot of patience on her part—but Clary liked how all her efforts bore fruit that fateful night.

Clary was still smiling to herself when her stomach started to grumble. She checked her watch and it was 12 noon. She hailed for a waiter and soon enough, a clumsy ginger haired boy approached her, a pen and a small notebook in hand.

"Do you have a menu?" Clary asked and the waiter pointed at the placemat, which craftily displayed the selection of purchases. Clary ordered a lunch set, a salad, some juice and then paused as she scanned for anything else that sounded appetizing. Her eyes rested on a familiar dessert. Clary looked at the waiter who was still scribbling her order on his little notepad and said, "Hey, How good is your Mango Phirni?"

The waiter reluctantly looked up from his notes and gave her a smile. "Well, the chef just added it to the menu yesterday. I can't really guarantee if it's any good," he then added, "But then again, he's a genius with ingredients so you shouldn't worry about the flavor, ma'am."

"Really?" Clary slurred. For some reason, the waiter's comment made Jace's face pop up in Clary's mind but she dismissed the preposterous notion that said demonic spawn was capable of working as a chef in a quaint resto-bar like the Lilit Café.
"Well, I'll have that as my dessert." She smiled at the boy, who blushed into a darker shade of pink.
"Uhm, do you like Indian cuisine, Ma'am?" The waiter asked timidly.
"Is that supposed to be a pick up line?" taunted Clary.
The boy's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and he fidgeted with intensity similar to that of an earthquake's.

"A-a-aaah! No no no no, u-uhm, o-of course not." He choked on his own spit. "You're very beautiful b-but I-I uhm. Well, Ahh—" he struggled with his words.

Clary couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "I was just joking with you." The boy looked at her with fearing eyes. "And no, I'm not a fan of Indian cuisine. Why do you ask?"

"Uhm, well, uh, Phirni is an I-indian dish, s-so I uh figured you…" He was about to say something when a voice cut in from behind him.

"Ah, Ronnie! Finally taking a step to conquering your fear of wild cats? Way to go, but I'm afraid this tigress is one feline you can't win against." And akin to how mafia lords lean against cars while they stalk their victims, Jace poised on the edge of Clary's table, a smirk on his annoying face.

"Jace. Of course." Clary said, not even bothering to hide her annoyance. The waiter, Ronnie, just looked confused.

Jace blinked and moved to sit on the chair in front of her. "Your lack of surprise is impressive, Ms. Morgenstern." Clary winced when she heard him say her fake surname. He then added, "Though I'm pretty sure it's due to your acting prowess that allows you to contain your excitement of seeing my majestic form."

Clary rolled her eyes and ignored his comment. Instead, she turned to the waiter and asked him, in a sarcastic tone, "You actually let baboons in this restaurant?"

Ronnie tried to stifle a laugh by hiding his face behind the notebook and excusing himself from the scene.

Clary watched him go. "Nice boy. I wonder why you bully him."
"Look who's talking." Jace retorted.

Clary rolled her eyes again and turned to look at Jace. He was leaning back on his chair, fiddling with a fork. "So," Clary said. "This is where you work?"
Jace stopped playing with the utensil and smiled at her.
"What gave me away?" he asked.

"I figured." Clary sighed in defeat. "No restaurant in its right mind would let a Neanderthal like you in unless you can serve good food that can overlook your bad personality and sharp tongue."

Jace laughed at that. "Is that a complement?"
Before Clary could refute, Ronnie came back with her salad and drink in hand. He set them in front of her and turned to Jace.

"Sir, you're needed in the kitchen." Ronnie said respectfully.
"Yeah, yeah." Jace waved Ronnie off as he stood up from his seat. Clary couldn't help but notice how Jace sounded a little annoyed that his fun was cut off.

"Well, I'll see you later Ms. Fr—" Clary shot Jace a deathly look. "—Morgenstern. I hope when you eat your meal, you'll think of how my hands skillfully prepared them for you." He said with a wink fueling Clary's annoyance even more.

"Don't play games with me, Jace." She said, staring right into his golden eyes.
"Now, Clary," he said with a playful grin. "Why on earth would I ever do that?"

Simon sipped on an iced tea as he listened to the all-girl band, The Cavaliers, play mellow music one afternoon in Taki's. Maia occasionally came by to check up on him if he needed any more drinks, which he declined every time. The bar wasn't as crowded during lunch time, so he had the privilege of loitering about. He took another sip from the long glass and surveyed the surroundings. A family of five was seated at a corner, laughing and eating pizza while in a far area a group of teenagers nursed some beer, probably trying to look cool. Simon scanned for other forms of life in the bar and his eyes focused on a young lady with sharp features, radiant skin, and dark hair who sat alone in the third table to his left.

Simon couldn't help but stare at her. In all his life, he'd never seen anything more beautiful. Well, except for Tifa in Final Fantasy. She was pretty hot too. But this girl was the real thing as opposed to visual animation!

The girl's eyes fluttered and Simon watched as she checked her watch. It was silver against her white skin. She raised her left hand and motioned for the check. She was indeed very beautiful, but she radiated a sort of sadness that Simon couldn't ignore. Without thinking, Simon rose from his seat and in the process, knocked down his chair and spilled his drink on the tabletop. Several eyes darted towards him, and a few lips curved into smiles. Simon didn't mean to make a fool out of himself—it sort of just happened. He sighed ruefully and abandoned all plans to make a move on her; instead, he sat back down and called for a waiter. When he glanced at where the mysterious woman sat, he found that the seat was already empty. He sighed sadly.

"Are you ok?" Amidst his self pity, an unfamiliar voice asked him.
"Yeah, I'm just—" He looked up and his mouth made a complete oblong shape as his eyes stared straight into the mysterious woman's concerned face. He was never able to finish that sentence.
She handed him a tissue and he accepted it almost mindlessly.

"I'm sorry." she suddenly said, which surprised Simon.
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." he assured her.
"I'm sorry because you were staring a good long time at me. I feel like I distracted you from your good sense causing you to not only publicly humiliate yourself, but also soil your shirt." she said without blinking.

"Huh," For an odd moment, a disturbing image of Jace dressed up as a girl filled his mind. "Am I really that obvious?"
"Sorry for my straightforwardness." The girl said uncomfortably.
"Nah, I'm sort of used to it." Again, Jace in a dress haunted Simon's imagination. "I know a guy who has the same sort of approach to conversations. You could be siblings. Haha," The girl gave him a curt nod and turned on her heel.

"Hey, uh," What should he call her? Female Jace didn't seem appropriate despite its disturbing accuracy.
"My name is Isabelle." That was a nice name, Simon thought. "And thanks."
Simon seemed puzzled again. "Why?"

He watched as her eyes turned to look at him, and her lips perking into a small, sad smile. "I needed a good cheering up… so… thank you."
She was about to leave when he called her again. "Wait!"
She stopped walking and turned to face his direction.

"Do you want to hang out? I could… uh… cheer you up again…?" Simon was never good with pick up lines. Usually Jace was the one who did most of the scoring.

She let out a strained laugh. "You're really awkward."
"Story of my life, uh, Isabelle." He scratched his head, mentally kicking his lack of sex appeal.
"Just call me Izzy." She said, and then bit her lip. "If it's ok with you. I don't really like being called Isabelle."
"Ah, no problem at all—Izzy." He rolled the word around in his tongue. It tasted nice. "Uhm, I'm Simon, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." She smiled at him. His heart raced without coherent reason.
"So, uh, about hanging out, do you want to…?"

"I'd love to… but I can't," she said, her eyes downcast.
"Oh." Simon managed to say despite the obvious disappointment. "Why?"
Izzy looked at him and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then a shrill tone interrupted her.

"Damnit," Simon cursed as he dug into his pocket to retrieve his phone which sang to an upbeat hymn. He shut off the incoming call and turned to Izzy again. "Sorry about that, it was—" But she was gone.

The door was wide open and Simon stood there, processing what just happened. She was an odd person, full of mysterious quirks, and Simon wanted nothing more than to find out what they were. Maybe, if he got to understand what her problem was, then maybe he could help her. Then she wouldn't seem so sad anymore.

The phone vibrated again. It was the same tune which meant a call was coming in again. He checked the name and it wasJordan's. He clicked that green button and pressed the device to his ear.

"This better be good, Jordan." Simon said.
"It is,"Jordan's voice came on the other end of the line. "Come to Lilit Café."
"Jace's place?"
"Yeah. You have got to see this."
And then Jordan hung up. Simon stared at the phone, then at the door, then at the phone again.

First a mysterious woman comes into his life then leaves without another word, now his roommate gives him a strange message without explanation. People around him were doing odd things today, Simon thought, and it almost drained his brain cells. He sighed and called for his bill.

When the waiter came to collect the payment, he added in a tip and left Taki's thinking since the world wasn't making sense anyway, he might as well check out whatJordanwas dying to show him.

A/N: Again, for typos, I'm really sorry. The word processor sucks. :

Next chapter: Unravelling part 2
I shall not give false promises, but with divine providence, I shallt complete it by a week or two (note, divine providence refers to reviews ;) )