Author's Note: I've posted two chapters this time. Enjoy.

Carte Blanche

Arc 1

Anael wakes up in the early morning, immediately going to Clary's room. He finds her sleeping, with Jace on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Anael walks in, taking a seat on the stool and looking at his tired face.

"Good morning, Jace."

"Good morning, Anael. What are you doing today?"

"Talking to Robert later. And you guys?"

"I don't know. Maybe train. Do a few rounds around the city. Simon wants to teach me how to drive," Jace says, laying back down on the bed. Anael nods, standing up.

"Train with me."

"Train with you?" Jace looks up at Anael, raising his eyebrows. "Really?"

"You two talk so loud," Clary mumbles into the pillow. Jace stands up and takes a black shirt off a chair, pulling it on over his head.

"Sorry babe. When are you taking the groceries home?"

"Later," Clary sighs, sitting up and wiping her face. She smiles at Anael. "You gonna teach Jace some moves?"

"I'll try," Anael says, and Jace stands up, walking to the door.

"Let's do it now, while I'm still energized from my sleep," Jace says. Anael follows him out, and they head to the training room together. "I can't believe I'm going to spar with an angel."

"I'll go easy on you."

"I see the angel has a sense of humor," Jace chuckles, looking over his shoulder and winking. "I'll try and go easy on you too."

In the training room, Anael immediately walks over to the wall of weapons, picking a staff. He balances it on his hand, feeling his heart jump. It was simple, just plain wooden, nothing fancy on it. No spear. He didn't want to hurt Jace. He turns to his friend, seeing him grab his own staff, with black leather wrapped around the ends.

"Are all angels born knowing how to fight?" Jace looks at Anael, and the angel shakes his head.

"The more powerful ones, created in the blink of an eye, do. I'm almost one of them." Anael twirls the staff, his heart racing a bit. "I was created on the higher tiers of heaven. So I was made from energy. But I went to the lower levels, took on a corporeal form, in order to be trained by my father."

"Father? You mean God?"

"No. He's not really my father. But he's the one who looked after me. His name is Michael," Anael says, turning to face Jace. Jace lets out a whistle, his eyes wide.

"You mean I'm sparring with someone who was trained by the so called general of Heaven? Go easy on me," Jace says, taking up a defensive stance. Anael copies him.

"Michael told me some things about you guys, when I wasn't watching the Earth myself. Said his sword was loaned out to you," Anael says. Jace nods.

"That sword holds some deadly fire power."

"You need it when you're a leader," Anael says, lifting his staff. Jace lets out a slow breath, lifting his own weapon. In a flash, Jace attacks, and Anael blocks the hit effortlessly. Jace strikes a few more times, increasing the hardness of his blow with every hit. Anael blocks every one of them.

"You aren't fighting back," Jace says, pausing. Anael nods, lets Jace try and get a few more moves in, before the angel advances and hits back. Jace blocks the first few, but Anael moves to the side, keeping low, and hitting Jace very lightly. Jace laughs, jumping back, then moving forward again.

Anael is impressed with how the nephilim is keeping up. The more the continue, the faster both of them move. Hitting, blocking, the cycle repeats. Jace tries out some fancy moves, and Anael can't help but smile. His blood is pumping. His muscles are getting warm, working. He can feel his own power surge, but he tries to hold it back. The heavenly fire pushes in him, demanding to be released. But Anael did say he was going to go easy.

"Come on, angel boy, keep up," Jace huffs when he nearly gets Anael. The angel grins wickedly, and in a flash he has Jace on his back, the staff against his throat.

"Who's moving slow now," Anael whispers. Jace snorts, and a slow clapping can be heard. Both men look see Clary standing in the doorway.

"You guys can keep going for quite a while," she calls out. Anael shakes his head. The battle felt like it only lasted a minute. He helps Jace to his feet.

"Do you want to spar with me, Clary," Anael says, turning to her. She hesitates, but nods, nervously walking forward. Jace hands her his staff.

"Go easy on her, Anael."

"You know I will, Jace."

Clary and Anael stand in front of each other. She strikes out, Anael blocks. She pauses, her expression thoughtful, then strikes low. Pauses again. Anael can tell she's thinking, planning, trying to use her brain to figure this out.

"You have angel blood, it's in your veins to be a warrior," Anael speaks to her. She nods, striking again.

This fight was much slower. She was inexperienced, Anael knew from his knowledge that she wasn't raised a shadowhunter. She was raised like most mundanes, wasn't trained for long. Not until she got swept up into the shadowhunter world. So, he takes it slow, easy, but fights back, keeping her on her toes but not hurting her. Not sending her to the ground. He didn't want that.

Her movements pick up, she gets quicker, even attempts some bold moods. Anael finds himself smiling again, backing away. Jace is quick, a natural. But Clary is a natural too. More tactical.

But after a period of time, not wanting to hold back anymore, Anael sweeps toward the ground with his staff. She jumps over it, he hits her shin. She stumbles, and he used the side of the staff and presses against her chest, knocking her down, and he follows her, landing on top of her.

"Shit," Clary huffs quickly, and she laughs up at him. Anael grins, lifting the staff off her chest. He takes notice of her nice smile, happy that she's feeling good instead of upset with him for taking her to the ground. He sets the staff aside, not standing up yet.

"You were great, Clary."

"Thanks, Ani," she says. Jace clears his throat in the background, and Anael stands up off of her. She rolls onto her knees. "Can't believe I just got my ass kicked by an angel."

"Join the club," Jace says, approaching them. "Should have been expected though. And here I was, thinking I was the best fighter."

"One of the best nephilim fighters," Anael says. "I'm faster. More stronger. More experienced."

"I need some breakfast now," Clary says, walking to the wall and putting the staff back. Anael follows too.

"What are you feeling, Anael? Eggs and bacon? Or pizza," Jace says with his hands on his hips. Anael shrugs.

"Anything is fine."

"Pizza it is then," Jace says cheerfully, and Clary shakes her head but doesn't say anything. Anael smiles, crossing his arms. The power inside him is burning, but he can still it easily. He is used to keeping a calm mind. Still, there was a heavy yearning to keep on training, to attack and defend and conquer the opponent, to move until these physical muscles burned. But right now, what he wants is to have pizza again with the two new friends.

Anael already knows all the facts Robert is giving him, even knows more than the other man does. But he stays silent on this matter, and instead chooses to nod every now and then, ask questions, look at Robert questioningly. He didn't mind knowing the things he already knew for eons.

Fae are downworlders.

Runes are applied with steles.

Some runes on mundanes create forsaken.

Oh, and ordinary humans are called mundanes.

All the usual stuff. Instead of really listening to him speak, Anael watches Robert's movements, taking notes when his voice speeds up on a subject the man likes. Or when his knows sniffs when he's on a certain topic. All very human motions. Anael looks at the desk, staring at a gold-brown box with deep red wood embellishing the sides, framing the lid. A dark energy was coming from it.

"You seem more interested in that box than what I'm saying," Robert comments.

"I'm merely curious about it."

"It's a pyxis. Holds demons," Robert says, tapping the lid. Anael nods, turning to look around the room more. There were many interesting stuff. Weapons, each one very unique and individualized from all the others. A glass case holding a replica of the mortal cup. And, since it was a library, of course there are many books.

"Do you ever feel sorry for demons," Anael asks quickly. Robert shakes his head.

"Of course not. They sealed their own fate."

"I pity them, really," Anael says slowly. A moment of silence follows. "You are right though. They have sealed their own fate. Is it more humane to keep a demon trapped in a box for eternity, or let it loose in Hell?"

"I think it should be trapped. In Hell, it might find a way here, and destroy someone."

"That's is true. Do you think one can be happy with no money?"

"Why are you asking deep philosophical questions?" Robert looks at Anael, wearing a slight smile. "Are you always like this?"

"Sometimes. I'm not looking for an answer I can follow though. I'm looking for your answer," Anael says, leaning back and touching the smooth desk. "What is your answer?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose, it is always possible. I think a majority of it is on your own perspective."

"I believe that anyone who gives will be blessed. That's what I believe," Anael says with a careful nod. Robert chuckles, his head shaking.

"I believe, as a shadowhunter, I have given enough."

"I'm sure your angel Raziel would be proud of you," Anael speaks back. Robert looks at him, his head tilting.

"You have a great way of speaking."

"Thank you." Anael says. Robert picks up a book, flipping through it. The silence that follows is comforting. Anael takes the moment to analyze the pyxis, wondering, just what that demon is doing in there. How it feels. The angel reaches out with his senses, and he can feel the demon's energy curl up from him, retreating, not wanting to associate with a heavenly being. Anael draws back.

"Father, why did you have to invite Simon," Isabelle says. Anael looks over his shoulder, seeing her eyebrows knit together, his upper lip curled just a tiny bit. Robert sighs loudly and sets his book down.

"I didn't invite him to aggravate you."

"Still," Isabelle sighs loudly, stopping in front of him with her hands on her hips. She looks over at Anael. "Hello."

"Hello," Anael says back smoothly. She smiles, looking at Robert.

"Need any work done today?"

"No, Isabelle. Enjoy your break for now," Robert says.

"Fine, fine," Isabelle nods, looking back at Anael. "Enjoying the lessons?"

"Most assuredly."

"That is good," Isabelle says, looking at her father, then back at Anael. She grins, slightly mischievous. Anael stares back, wondering what's on her mind. "Did you want to go on a date?"

"Isabelle," Robert exclaims, and she shrugs her shoulders.

"I'm not a child, father."

"Sometimes, I think you are."

"I think you'd be happy that I have asked a mundane out," Isabelle says with a soft scoff, and Anael stifles a laugh. A mundane.

"I would be glad to join you, Isabelle," Anael responds. Robert shakes his head, staring down at his daughter.

"If this is a way to get back a Simon, it's highly inappropriate."

"Yes, because everything is about getting back at Simon," Isabelle counters back. "Anyway, did you want to go out tonight, Anael?"

"I'd love to," Anael replies. Isabelle turns around and heads for the door.

"I'm going to see Clary. I'll talk to you later Anael." Isabelle exits, and Anael is left sitting there with Robert, who's shaking his head still. The angel smiles, looking at the desk. Has he really been asked out on a date?