Just a heads up, this one is kind of short. But It's quick and to the point, that point being that we're heading towards the end of the story! This isn't the final chapter, but we're close. Can't wait to hear what you guys have to say.

And for those who were wondering, if you review as a guest, it takes a day or two for the reviews to show up on the website. I immediately get the email, but the website doesn't display it until a couple days later, so don't be afraid to review as a guest. I promise, I still read it. I still see it. And I definitely appreciate it.

Clary was heading to the bathroom when her phone started ringing in her pocket. She and Jace were getting ready to go pick up Emily, and she needed to get ready. So with a curling iron in hand, she pulled out her phone and shut the door with her foot.

"Hey, Magnus," She said brightly. "What's up?"

"Someone is in a happy mood," he pointed out. "The real question is what are you up to?"

"I'm in L.A. with Jace and Emily."

"Ah, the love rekindles. It is about time. Does this mean I made a good decision about keeping you in the gallery? Is he going to be the real inspiration? How crazy are you going to get with your art now? Are you about to make me a millionaire? Clary, I need to know the information on you two. Have you slept together yet? Has the passion come forward? Has-"

"Magnus, stop!" she chuckled with her cheeks blushing. She put the phone on speaker, working on her hair after setting it on the sink. "Magnus, why did you call?"

She could've pictured him pout as he dropped the juicy subject. "Well, lovely, you remember how my gallery is moving to Atlanta for a couple months. I was just double checking with some arrangements, and I was making sure you're still on board for the next few projects."

"I am," she answered. "Nothing's changed."

"So you're not moving to L.A. or anything?"

She shook her head, looking at her freckled face. Her skin wouldn't handle L.A. for a long period of time. She didn't have Jace's sun kissed skin. "No. I can't. I want to, but I can't."

"Interesting," Magnus mumbled. "But anyway, I'm flying out in about a week to get everything set up and in order, but it looks good. Pretty soon, you'll be able to stay back home. And you can even finish school while being a paid worker."

"A paid worker?" she asked in shock, almost dropping her curling iron. "Really? Paid?"

Magnus laughed. "Of course. You're not studying abroad anymore. You're home. And you're getting paid."

"But Magnus–"

"No need to thank me," he said with a smile she could picture. "I do have to go though, love, so I'll call you soon. Tell loverboy I said not to hurt you. Bye." And then he was gone.

She pulled back and glanced down at the phone in confusion. "Okay? Bye?" she said out loud to no one in particular.

"Who was that?"

The sound of Jace's voice caused her to jump but she immediately relaxed when she saw him leaning against the doorframe through the mirror. He could be quiet as a cat when she wanted to be.

When she caught her breath, she smiled at him through the glass. "Magnus. He was just calling about the move to Atlanta."

He nodded, dropping his head.

She took the moment to really look at him. For the past three hours, they spent so much time either touching, cuddling, or kissing that she has yet to really study him. Even in the past week and a half, he was careful not to push her and was more modest.

But now, in his boxers with his sex hair, modesty was out the window. She had forgotten how toned his body looked, although she knew exactly how toned it felt under her fingers. And his golden skin really was just soft and hard at the same time. Her favorite part, though, was the fact that it was all hers again. Every last bit of him was hers, and she smiled at the thought, glancing away from him and at her own blushing face.

He looked up just as she looked away, moving behind her. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into him chest and placing his chin on her shoulder. With only a tank top and her jean shorts on so far, she felt a lot more of him than she expected.

"I don't want you to go," He confessed.

He head fell back to his shoulder, and she turned to kiss his neck. "You could come with me."

"If only," he said, turning to meet her lips with his. They kissed for a while before he finally pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. "The MLS team doesn't get started for another eight months."

Clary froze at that. Her heart stopped and she stared at Jace with wide eyes.

He noticed and looked up through the mirror, looking confused. "What?"

"What are you talking about? The Galaxy are already set up. You're on it. So what are you talking about and why am I suddenly lost?"

"I–" he cleared his throat and put his hands on her hips when she turned in his grip. "Um, well, I mentioned to Jonathan a few weeks ago that they're setting up an MLS team next year in Atlanta. If I got on the team, I would–"

"Live in Atlanta," she said in shock. Her eyes widened and her features changed before realization dawned on her. "Oh my God! Jace!"

He chuckled when she threw herself at him, grabbing his neck and pulling him close. "I didn't want to say anything until I knew that we could make this work," he said in her hair. "I made Jon promise not to say anything."

"I love you," was all that she said, pulling him close.

"I love you too," he smiled. "And I don't want to lose you again. I've lost you too many times and dammit, it's annoying and frustrating and heartbreaking, and I can't go through that again."

"You won't have to." She pulled back, placing both hands on his cheeks. He needed to shave a bit, now that she was feeling the stubble. "But Jace, what about your dad?"

He sighed. "I don't know. He doesn't know about the transfer. I've been discussing it with my coach under closed conditions. He'll probably have a shit fit when he finds out."

"And he'll hate me even more," Clary said with a sad tone.

"That doesn't matter," he claimed, instantly pulling her eyes back to his when she looked down. "Clary, I love you. It doesn't matter what my dad thinks. Your Mom and Luke and Jon are okay with me, and that's all the approval I need. Hell, when I leave, I doubt my dad will even talk to me ever again."

"But Jace, I'm not okay with that."

He froze. "What do you mean? Clary, he physically tried to hurt you." Jace paused in confusion. "I don't understand. Why would you want him around at all?"

She sighed and shrugged, stepping back to the counter. Jace watched in confusion as she turned and hopped up on the sink, making herself a little taller. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," he suggested, stepping forward and touching the outside of her thighs with his hands. "I mean, Clary, he grabbed your throat. Even if it was almost, and I mean almost, an empty threat, it was still a threat in some way. If I had known it was at that point, I would've beaten the shit out of him when I had the chance."

"He trains in fighting just as much as you do. It wouldn't exactly be easy for you."

"I'm young, he's not. I'd kill him if he touched you again," he said sternly. "That's why I want to know what's gotten in your head right now."

"I just know what it's like to not have a father anymore," she blurted out. "That's all."

Jace was silent as he looked at her. Clary didn't even realize that she was crying until he reached up and pushed away one of the tears down her cheek.

"I don't want you to go through that," she said, pressing her forehead to his chest to try to keep her tears from getting worse. The flashback to her father's funeral last fall came back into her mind. She couldn't believe it had been almost eight months since his passing. "Jace, it's hard. It seems easy but one day, you'll want to talk to your dad about something. You'll need him for something, and I don't have that anymore. I can't go to my dad, but you can at least leave on a good note with yours."

"You don't know him like I know him."

"I know you. And I know that this is what you need."

Jace sighed, kissing the top of her head. Yes, he'd stop talking to his dad in a heartbeat for Clary, but she was right. One day, no doubt, he'd need his father for something. And even then, the day he marries the girl in his arms, he'd want his father there. He'd want his dad there when he wins the MLS championship. He'd want his dad around when Emily graduates, or when she gets married, or when Clary and Jace have a kid of their own. He knew that it was weird to think of those things two hours after getting back together with her, but he couldn't stop himself.

All he knew was that Clary was right.

"I'll talk to him," he said. "Okay?"

She nodded and looked up at him, kissing his lips softly. "Okay."

"Now, let's go get my daughter," he said with a smile, grabbing Clary and pulling her off the sink.

Jace stared at the house that belonged to his father. It was only a five minute walk to it, and he had spent the next thirty minutes on the front porch, wondering what he was supposed to say to this guy.

It wasn't just that either. He honestly thought that when he saw Michael's face, he might actually punch him. All he could picture was him grabbing Clary, and it got Jace heated just thinking about it. He wanted to slam his father's face in the doorway and punch him until he bled.

"I really have anger issues," Jace mumbled to himself before he knocked on the door.

A very long few minutes later, Michael appeared, looking rather pleased with himself. The smirk that Jace could mirror was so arrogant and annoying that anger boiled in Jace's gut before he could control it. He'd felt that before in different occasions, but the picture of Michael's hand around Clary's throat popped into his head, and before he knew it, his fist connected with his father's face.

Michael fell to the hardwood floor of his house hard. Jace swore he heard a bit of a crack, but figured it was just the floor. Jace was more focused on the pain in his hand than anything. One thing his father had was a strong jaw.

"Well," Michael said with a groan, slowly pulling himself to a sitting position. He was gripping his bleeding lip softly. "I guess I deserved that."

"You deserve a lot worse. But I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk."

Michael nodded and stood slowly, grabbing his shoulder with his right hand. "I never would've guessed," he said with full sarcasm. "Don't forget that I'm your father next time you think to punch me. I'm letting you get away with it this time, but I'm not worried about kicking your ass. It's not child abuse if you deserve it."

Jace ignored the whole child thing and just glared at him. "Like you said, you deserved it."

Michael and Jace made their way to the kitchen, where Michael already had a glass of Brandy out on the counter and a cup beside it. Two glasses were already set out. Jace eyed the second glass in confusion but didn't say anything. His dad did have a drinking problem after all. Two hands must mean two cups.

"So," Michael said after a big sip of the first cup, the one with the drink actually in it. "What is it you came here to talk to me about? Now that you've gotten your temper out at least."

"Clary."

Michael nodded and motioned towards the bar part of the kitchen. Jace sat up on the stood while Michael stood on the other side, pouring a glass of Brandy for Jace out of the second cup and sliding it to him.

But he didn't say anything. Jace wasn't sure what that meant. Silence could be good, or it could be bad, or it could be terrible, or it could be great. Sadly, there were ups and downs and in betweens when it came to Michael and silence.

"I love her," Jace eventually just blurted out. "And I'm moving to Atlanta within the next few months to be with her."

Michael nodded, dropping his head and running his hands through his hair. His shirt, Jace just noticed, wasn't the usual dress shirt or suit jacket. Michael was in a tank top and workout shorts, like he was just working out or hadn't bothered getting dressed. The second rarely happened though.

"And you're determined to do this?" Michael asked.

That was it. No fighting. No snarky comments. No 'you're being and idiot' quotes. Jace frowned at his father's question, wondering what he was up to.

"Yes."

"And you think there isn't anything I can do to change your mind?"

That was what Jace was waiting for. He shot his guard up, blanking his face from emotions except for the one that he used when he was staring his father down. And that was a mix between curiosity, caution, and annoyance.

Jace nodded though. "Yes. I love her, and I'm going to be with her. End of story."

"Ha. Good luck with that."

This is where Jace thought it would go. This is the conversation he was prepared for. "She isn't like anyone else. She's not going to hurt me like you think."

"You don't think she will, until she does. That's where they get you. It's a trap, and they keep coming back for more. It's like a vicious circle that the women control, and you and I are just victims to the vixen. That's all we are, their toy to play with."

Jace rolled his eyes. "She isn't like that."

"Okay," Michael said with his hands up in defense. "I just have a few questions."

Jace leaned forward, pushing the untouched drink out of the way. "Go for it. But I don't want to hear anything about Clary being this or that. Understand? If you have questions, make them about me."

"Okay. When are you leaving?"

That was simple enough. "A couple months. Coach approved of the transfer and helped me get a spot on the Atlanta team. He's got a friend who is signed on as the head coach and set everything up. When that guy calls, that's when I leave."

"Where will you live?"

"An apartment, maybe with another player or by myself. Money won't be much of an issue and Atlanta has plenty of places I can live that aren't in the city."

"How long will you be there?"

"As long as they have me. Maybe years."

"But–" Michael said, holding up a finger. "What if Clary leaves. Will you follow?"

Jace went to answer but paused momentarily. "Depends."

Michael shook his head. "Jace, you can't just drop everything for this girl. She has a future that may or may not involve you and you need to realize that maybe you're futures don't intertwine. That's all I'm saying."

"No, you're saying that it won't work out. I know what you're trying to do."

"Then maybe you should hear it from someone who you won't punch in the face." Michael dropped the glass of Brandy on the counter before calling out. "Come on in. He should hear it from you sooner or later."

Jace turned just as a woman walked out of his father's bedroom. She was dressed in a black dress, high heels. Her blonde hair was fixed up in a messy bun. Her ear rings were studded and made of pure diamonds from the looks of it. But her eyes were hard and stern as she met Jace's gold ones.

He wasn't prepared. He wasn't ready. Nothing would've gotten him ready for that. And the only thing he could say as she moved towards Michael was one word. Michael was looking at her causally, like this happened all the time, but Jace couldn't only say one thing from the shock of himself.

"Mo - Mom?"

And... yeah. Momma is here. Is she going to be helpful or make things worse? Hell if I know, I haven't written the next chapter yet. So let me know what you think should happen! Suggestions are ace, so review. Thanks for reading!