A/N: So, here's a little present the Easter Bunny left for you guys. It's pretty long, and probably not as delicious as the ham you're snarfing down right now. But I think it's pretty tasty. =] And if you don't celebrate Easter--which I really don't but whatever--....um...Happy Sunday? And if it's not Sunday where you are would you just stop staring at me and read, already?
Hope you enjoy!
"Ouch! Mother Fu-that freaking hurts!" Simon howled. He knew that he should of stayed away from Hotel Dumort, but apparently he was a complete idiot, and found himself there now, strapped to a chair, while Raphael and his stupid cronies threw little droplets of Holy water on him.
"We just wanted to remind you that you are a creature of the night, Daylighter." Raphael said, in his unnervingly young voice.
"Except for the whole, walking around in the daylight thing--Ouch, stop that!" Simon's chair hopped around in a little circle of pain. Raphael had splashed him again, making his skin smoke. The room smelled like burning flesh. Simon almost wished that someone would look him in the eye, because since he had…um…arrived at the dilapidated hotel, they were all blatantly and unabashedly staring at his Mark. He felt the urge to yell 'hey, I'm down here!' He felt a sudden burst of sympathy towards large-chested girls.
"You have a smart mouth, young one." Raphael said, grinning slightly. "It will only cause you pain."
"Well thanks for the heads up, because I'd hate to end up being strapped to a chair while some sadistic vampire douses me in--oh wait, never mind." Simon retorted, rolling his eyes. "What do you want?" He added, hoping that the sooner he got to the point, the sooner he'd get out of this crypt.
He was in a room that was well furnished, heavy deep maroon drapes hung off the wall. You could tell at one time they had been beautiful, but Simon didn't need his exceptional vampire sight to notice that the heavy drapes were dusty, and beginning to mold. The room was altogether rich looking, with dark wood paneling the parts of the walls, and the doorframe. There was a small window on the east side of the room, boarded up with what seemed an unnecessary amount of two-by-fours and nails. It was also very dusty, Simon suppressed the urge to cough.
Shoved up against the walls were two large, blood red couches, which looked black in the poorly lit room. The couches were crammed with what seemed like a dozen vampires each. All lined up and staring at him with distrust and curiosity. Like pale, undead dominoes ready to topple over if someone sneezed or moved too quickly. A blonde, slender female vampire caught his eye, she wasn't looking at him the way the others were. Her stare was almost sympathetic. He looked away quickly, preferring the looks of contempt.
Someone had tied his hands behind the back of the chair. He couldn't see what they were tied with, but when he strained against them, his wrists bled, and he could hear the sizzling sound the liquid made when it hit the rope of some kind. He could have broken it easily, but it hurt too bad, and besides, he was sure if he did manage to escape his constraints, it would be the last thing he would do, because he would be jumped but about fifty bloodthirsty vampires.
Simon gulped nervously.
Raphael stared at him with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. "Your friend, the red-headed Shadowhunter…" he said trailing off, looking as if he was not sure what he wanted to say next. Simon wasn't fooled, however, nothing Raphael said or did was without extreme calculation.
"If you're looking for a date, I'm pretty sure she's spoken for. Besides, you're not her type." Oh no. Simon thought, what does he want with Clary?
"Oh, and what is her type?" he asked, raising one eyebrow, although he was clearly not interested. He was baiting him. The bastard.
"Well, alive for starters."
"As tempting as that sounds" Simon could clearly note the sarcasm here, "Its not a date I'm interested in."
"Oh," Simon said, nodding his head in mock understanding. "You might need a hooker for that."
Raphael chose to ignore this. "She is with child, is she not?" He asked bluntly. Simon was thrown, whatever he had been expecting--it was not this. He was so shocked, he sputtered.
"I-um, well, I haven't…uh…"
"What's the matter? Clary got your tongue?"
"Go to hell."
Raphael chuckled. "You're already here, Daylighter." He said, with a grand gesture of his hand, as if he was Hades showing Simon his Dark Kingdom.
"I thought it would be warmer."
Raphael sighed, and ran a hand through his dark, curly hair. "Dios mio. You're making this very difficult for me, Young One. Answer the question."
"Can I phone a friend?" Simon asked innocently, but regretted it immediately because Raphael threw the remaining Holy water on his face and chest, making his skin burn and smoke. The smell was sickening, but the pain was becoming unbearable. Simon didn't know how much longer he could stall before giving him what he wanted.
Which was what exactly? Why would he want to know if Clary was pregnant? What did it matter?
"Yeah." Simon said reluctantly. "She's pregnant."
Raphael's face was unreadable. Completely blank, but something burned in the back of his eyes that made Simon feel extremely wary. His dark eyes were on fire, alight with….something that Simon couldn't identify.
"You're free to go." He said in a clipped tone. "Untie him." He barked to his coven, and suddenly two gloved hands were removing his hands from their restraints. Simon twisted and looked down, curious as to what had been holding him.
He snorted. "Rosary beads? Clever."
Raphael smiled, an genuine smile, making him look several years younger. Making the overall creepiness factor skyrocket. A child leading an army of the undead. "They're stronger than they look." He said softly. His expression was wistful, and Simon was suddenly unsure if they were talking about the beads. Simon rubbed at his singed wrists absently.
"They're not as tough as people think they are."
"And yet they kept you from escaping."
Simon nodded, and Raphael turned to go. "This wont be the last time we speak, Daylighter." he said, standing in the doorway. His fleet of undead minions all stood, as if they were at attention.
"Oh, swell. What's next? Crucifixes?"
"If you're lucky."
And with that, Raphael disappeared through the doorway. Simon felt the heavy pressure of two hands on either side of his shoulders leading--more like yanking--him through a doorway on the opposite side of the room. Once that had quite literally thrown him outside, Simon got off the ground, and dusted himself off, looking extremely dignified. Knowing they were still watching, he stuck his chin up in the air, giving him a haughty, prince like appearance.
Then, like the prince he was, he gave them his middle finger.
He turned around, slightly proud of himself for getting in the last word--or appendage--but as he walked away for Hotel Dumort, he couldn't help feeling an impending sense of doom.
He couldn't help but feel that he had just really screwed up.
***
"So, are we supposed to act surprised?" Clary asked Jace as they mounted the steps of the Institute, Jace with his light, quiet step, and Clary stomping like an angry elephant.
It wasn't her fault, with the baby, she weighed about 40 pounds more, and couldn't see her feet. Her belly was growing at such a speed, that it had surprised her doctors. She had been horrified at the concept of having a large baby, but Jace looked like he was having a mental debate at whether to pump his fist in the air or pat himself on the back. If he could have done it simultaneously, he would have, but seeing Clary's look, he had only allowed himself a small, manly nod at the doctor.
"No, Clary." he said with a chuckle. "This is a baby shower, not a surprise party."
Clary nodded. It didn't matter what it was, she was just excited to see all of her friends and family together. They saw each other frequently enough, but not in big group get-togethers like this. Well, not unless something went wrong, and there was an immediate need for a mass Shadowhunter meeting.
Jace put his hand on the door "I ask permiss-okay" he said as the door swung open practically when he placed his and upon it. Clary chuckled.
"You know, I doubt you even have to say anything."
"Probably not, but I like the continuity." He said smiling as they made their way to the elevators. They were the same gilded gold, tarnished but still beautiful with age. It reminded Clary of being in an expensive birdcage. They were quiet as the elevator began its slow climb to the top. It was a comfortable silence, Clary immediately searched for Jace's hand with hers. She found it, and her tiny hand was engulfed in his large warm palm. She sighed happily.
The elevator came to a stop with a screeching sound. Jace frowned, "they really need to get this fixed." He said, shaking his head slowly, closing the gate behind him. Clary heard a gentle meow, and spun around looking for Church. Instead, she was greeted by a gigantic black cat, with large, bored looking tawny eyes.
"Is that Chairman Meow?" Clary asked, stepping forward, and crouching--as close as she could get to a crouch more like a painful squat--and stroked the cat's soft, black fur. It's eyes rolled back in pleasure, and a purring started in it's chest.
"Magnus must be here." Jace said, bending next to her. He kissed her temple quickly before helping into a standing position. Chairman Meow let out an irritated sound before trotting away from them indignantly.
The party was in the downstairs living area. It was a large, grand room with lots of windows and lavish, comfortable furniture. Clary heard a gasp and looked up just in time to see Isabelle come flying at her, inky hair streaming behind her, like a dark comet. She stopped herself right before she tackled Clary, not wanting to hurt the baby. Giving her a gentle hug, Isabelle said "I'm so glad you came!" Then she did tackle Jace.
"Wow, Clary, you're huge." Said an awed voice.
"Thanks, Luke." Clary said, hugging him tightly. He looked pretty much the same--tall, lean, with glasses framing the kind glint in his blue eyes, but there was more grey in his hair then Clary remembered there being last time she saw him--which was not too long ago--and there were wrinkles on his face, like the creases of a map worn with use. He smiled at her and let her go.
"Hi, honey." Her mother said, also smiling. She hugged her too, and Jocelyn kissed her on the cheek. Clary then made rounds, saying hello to Robert and Maryse, then Alec, and Magnus. (Who was wearing one of the most outlandish outfits she had ever seen him in. It was a metallic corset, complete with black leather pants that had rhinestones embedded in them. Of course, the outfit was complete with a rainbow belt and his dark hair was styled in it's usual array of messy spikes. His teal lipstick, and gold glittered eyelids made him look very…Magnusy.) ,The party turned out to be more a reunion then a baby shower. It was nice to see everyone again, and Clary found herself easily settling back into her old self. Jace and Magnus had too, apparently.
"So, a boy, huh?" Magnus asked, smiling a little. Jace puffed his chest up proudly.
"Yes a boy." He nodded, beaming. He wrapped an arm around Clary, as if to showcase his handiwork. Clary snorted.
"I didn't know you had it in you." Magnus said, with an evil smile. Jace straightened.
"I'll have you know, I am rife with manliness." Jace said indignantly.
"Oh, you're rife with something." Magnus said, his lips curling around his suspiciously acid green drink. Alec elbowed him in the ribs, looking at the two of them like a dog watching meatball tennis.
"What do you know about manliness? You look like an inter-galactic pimp." Jace said, gesturing with his free hand at Magnus's ensemble.
"I look fabulous, you're just jealous that I have great taste."
Clary tuned them out with a happy sigh. It was good to be home.
***
Simon arrived two hours later, looking exhausted. He said a polite hello to everyone--carefully avoided the penetrating glare of Isabelle--and made a beeline for Jace. Thankfully he was alone for the moment, Clary was in the corner looking irritated and speaking sharply at Magnus., then Alec slapped his palm to his forehead, obviously frustrated. He wondered what that was about briefly before focusing on the matter at hand.
"Jace--we need to talk." Simon said urgently, and as quietly as possible, because he wanted no one to overhear that he was about to tell Jace what had happened at Hotel Dumort. Jace turned around, and frowned.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes. No. I'm not sure. Why do you smell like apples?"
Jace grinned maniacally. "Magnus threw his Appletini on me because I called him a Sparkly Poofter."
"He threw his drink on you?"
"Yes."
"And I missed it?"
"Yes."
"Well, damn."
"Get to the point, bloodsucker."
"Right." Simon said launching into serious mode. "I um, visited Hotel Dumort the other day, and Raphael asked me the strangest question…."
***
"I can't believe you did that Magnus." Clary hissed, her hand on her hip.
"He deserved it." He said, inspecting a sparkly fingernail. "Macho bastard."
"Magnus!"
"Oh alright, I'll send him an apology letter for Christmas or something."
Alec slapped his palm to his forehead.
***
Clary watched Simon and Jace whisper together, from her corner. Their faces looked extremely at ease, but Jace's shoulders were tense. Something was wrong, Clary could sense it. She strained her ears, furrowing her brows, but couldn't hear them, even with her Shadowhunter senses. Jace's eyes went wide for a moment, and his head spun to look at Clary. He tried to look away quickly, but she had already seen the look in them.
He was terrified.
She started to make her way towards them, setting down her drink, but was stopped by a strong hand on her arm.
"Don't." Was all Magnus said. "You don't want to know."
Clary's eyes widened as Jace's had, and she almost told him off, but she was surprised at the intense look in his eyes.
"Don't do it, Pumpkin." He repeated in a softer tone. Clary nodded, and threw a nervous look over her shoulder. They weren't talking anymore, Jace was headed towards her, his eyes were unreadable, but his warm smile was firmly in place.
Simon had disappeared.
Jace came over, and kissed her on the forehead, grabbing her hand tightly in his. So tightly it hurt.
What just happened? Clary thought, returning his smile with an uncertain one of her own. She would interrogate him later.
The pressure from his hand never decreased. Her fingers grew numb.
***
As far as Isabelle Lightwood was concerned, if there was a problem, there was sure to be a man around creating it.
Simon Lewis was a problem.
The stupid man-boy-thing-whatever the hell he was-was a thorn in her side.
And in her heart.
She wasn't sure if this was what it was like to be in love, but if this heart wrenching, gut twisting, dizzying feeling was love, then she wanted nothing to do with it. She had told herself that she wanted nothing to do with it. That she was too strong, and independent for love. But that was a lie. She did want it. Desperately. And she was not used to not getting whatever she wanted.
When she found the thing that she did want, she would take it by force with her whip, or by persuasion, using her looks and charm. There was nothing she couldn't have. Nothing.
Except she couldn't have Simon.
She huffed angrily as she shoved the leftover sandwiches into bags. She was muttering to herself angrily, when she looked up to see--of all people-- The Thorn looking at her curiously. He still looked young, but when you looked in his dark eyes, they were ancient, making him appear much older then he was physically.
"Hello, Simon." She muttered, shoving the sandwich in the bag violently.
"You must really hate turkey." He said, watching with amused eyes. Isabelle didn't say anything. "Great party," he continued, watching her decapitate the poor cupcakes with Tupperware. "Magnus threw his drink on Jace, and Luke drank too much, he'd gotten into the second verse of 'Wind beneath my Wings' before Jocelyn dragged him home."
Isabelle stayed silent.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have enviable conversational skills?" Simon asked watching her yank apart and uneaten chicken with her hands. He cringed a little as he heard the socket snap with a sickening crunch. This did it. He saw the corner of her mouth twitch, like she was fighting a smile.
"You're such a jerk." She mumbled, finally looking at him in the eye. She threw a bone at him that he neatly dodged.
He chuckled, and grabbed the leg of the chicken from her hand. "Let me help you." He said softly. Their fingers touched for a moment, his fingers were so cold, she almost felt as if she had been burned. Neither of them pulled away.
"Isab-"
"Don't" She said stiffly. "Don't start." She heard him sigh in frustration.
"Why not?" He demanded. "What if I want to start?"
Now Isabelle got mad. "Because I said so, that's why!" She almost yelled.
"And that was another Solid Reasoning Moment with Isabelle, folks!" Simon rebutted, looking angry.
"By the Angel, Simon…." She lost her steam, suddenly feeling exhausted. She didn't want to fight this battle tonight. "You know why this" --she gestured between the two of them--"won't work."
He came around the counter, and quickly, almost roughly grabbed her hands. "Why not?" He whispered.
"You're sixteen, Simon. I'm almost thirty."
"I like older women."
"Not this old." She said with a sigh. He hadn't reached his full height, or ever would, but still, he was taller then her. She took a step forward, they were close now, she could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her own.
"Magnus isn't aging." Simon said eagerly. "If it doesn't matter to Alec then why….?"
"This is different." Isabelle said quickly.
"How is it different?" Simon asked, taking a step back as if she had pushed him away. "Is it because I'm…dead?"
"Well it certainly doesn't help." She said, smiling a little.
Simon rolled his eyes. "Don't be coquettish. It won't work on me. I'm immune."
"No man is immune." Isabelle said, her smile fading. She looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry Simon. I know I send out mixed signals but-"
"Mixed signals?" Simon said incredulously. "No, you blend your signals to smithereens."
"I'm sorry." She repeated. She didn't look up, but she knew he has closed the gap between them.
"I'm going to kiss you now." Simon said, his voice shaky.
"Okay." Isabelle said, feeling dizzy.
"And then I'm going to leave. I wont come back."
"Okay." She repeated.
And then his lips were on hers. And in that wonderful, agonizing, blissfully painful moment, she knew that she was in love. That she had been all along. His lips were cold, but not reluctant. A shot of fire seared up her spine, making every nerve ending alive, sparking with energy. Her hands entangled themselves in his hair, and the world melted away. All there was, all there ever had been was Simon. Nothing else mattered. Not their ages, not that it would never work between the two of them, not that one of her parents would walk in on them and see their perfect daughter sucking face with a criminally young Downworlder.
Simon was the thing tying her to the ground, keeping her from floating away.
And then he was gone. He didn't say anything, she didn't even open her eyes, because she knew she would see only an empty kitchen. She knew by now, he was probably outside of the Institute.
And she was glad.
It wouldn't work anyway, she told herself for the millionth time.
***
"So are you going to tell me what all of the secrecy was about?"
"What secrecy?"
Clary sighed. Despite the fact the she was practically bursting with curiosty, she had refrained from asking Jace any questions. She thought that she would have a seizure from the effort on the E-train home.
"Don't lie to me Jace. I know something was going on when Simon came and talked to you." She said, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was shirtless--a fact that did not go unnoticed by Clary--and was trying to rid his face of the left over Appletini. She could see the white-silver scars that adorned his skin, looking almost like flesh colored lace. Jace was quiet for a moment.
"Simon just noticed some unusual activity in Rafael's clan. It was no big deal." He said, with a reassuring smile. Clary felt a pang of jealousy. Simon had come straight to him, he barely even said hello to her. And he was telling Jace about random vampire activity.
"But why was he being all secretive about it? That's something that everyone could have heard." Clary said, crossing her arms over chest as Jace turned out the light in the bathroom. He gently placed his hands on either side of Clary's face, and looked into her eyes directly. Clary bit her lip.
"He just didn't want anyone to worry about it during the party, so he told me, so that I could spread it around at the appropriate time." He softly kissed her lips. He tasted like toothpaste, and Jace.
"That was all?"
He drew her to him. And to her surprise, he picked her up, like a bride and carried her to the bed, but he didn't place her down just yet.
"Oh my God, I'm a cow." Clary said, looking horrified. Her questions were completely forgotten for the moment.
"What?" Jace asked, clearly confused.
"The veins are bulging in your neck. You can barely lift me. You're part angel, practically indestructible, and your arms are starting to shake. Hence the cow." Clary pointed to her stomach.
"My arms are not shaking" Jace said laughing slightly. "I could hold you like this forever."
Clary rolled her eyes. "No you couldn't. In about two minutes, your heart would give out from the strain, and then what would people say? 'Oh, there's poor Jace Wayland's widow, I hear he gave himself a stroke trying to carry his whale of a wife to the bed.' Ah, there it is again." She said, poking the vein.
Jace dropped her on the bed unceremoniously. "Don't touch my vein." He said, absently rubbing at his neck. "And you are not a cow, for the millionth time, woman."
"Moo."
"That's it!" Jace said, hopping on the bed next to her. "Every time you call yourself a cow I'm going to--"
"Oh! Jace!"
"Don't interrupt me, I'm scolding you."
"Shut up, Jace, the baby--Max is kicking." She grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach, where she could feel a little baby foot pump against her ribs. It didn't hurt, really more like being stretched from the inside. Jace's golden eyes were wide with excitement.
"I don't think he likes it when you yell at me." Clary said, feeling a little winded.
"Never again." Jace said, kissing her firmly on the lips. "Never, never again. And by never, I mean tonight." Clary was beginning to tear up. The baby had never kicked before. She felt like she had a miracle inside of her body. "I love you so much." Jace whispered, alternating between kissing her, and keeping his ear pressed to her stomach, as if he could hear the baby whisper secrets from her uterus.
"Are you talking to me or the baby?"
"You. The Baby. Both of you." He said, smiling radiantly. "I love you. I love you so much."
"I love you more." Clary said. "I cant speak for the baby, though." Clary gasped as the baby kicked again.
"Ha! He loves me! I knew it!"
"Would you like a round of applause?" Clary asked, rolling her eyes. Jace was laughing, and soon Clary joined in.
Clary put one hand on Jace's face. She smiled at him, and he reached up to kiss her softly, a small smile on his lips. And it didn't matter that she felt he was hiding something. It didn't matter that most of the time their lives were filled with death and peril.
It didn't matter because when Jace smiled at her like that, she was home.
A/N: Easter Bunny wants reviews. And if he doesn't get them, then he'll tell Santa that you have been bad and don't deserve gifts.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
....but really, review please?