Update, finally. ;] Sorry guys, I've been rather busy with other fics and school, as well as my personal writing project. I hope this update makes up for it.

Slight Infernal Devices reference here-don't worry about it if you haven't read.

Yes, I changed "Brian" 's name. Sorry for the confusion: his name is Ryan now. My beta pointed out that Brian was rather American-sounding, so I changed it to Ryan. Why Ryan? Well... you'll see.

Tongues always pressed to your cheeks
While my tongue is on the inside of some other girl's teeth

-3OH!3, Don't Trust Me

Magnus really didn't know why he threw these parties. They were crowded, messy, loud and a pain to look after. Hell, someone had been turned to a rat four years ago. (Ah yes, the Daywalker. He supposed he should take at least partial blame for the Turn as well, but whatever.) The point was, if these people wanted a party, they could just go to Pandemonium. Screw "private parties" and "socialite invitations". God.

But he had to do something to get Clary and Jace past that awkward phase. He secretly had a soft spot for the fiery redhead Shadowhunter (not like that) and wanted to help her out a little. Besides, he still owed her for erasing her memories despite the high pay.

Oh my God, call the media. Magnus Bane was being nice.

Alec slipped out from the shadows and touched Magnus's shoulder lightly. "Where are they?" he whispered, lips barely moving. His eyes scanned the crowd of undulating bodies.

"Not together, and that's what's important," the warlock huffed. Then, more quietly, "Ridiculous. Even Will and Tessa didn't run into all this."

Alec stared at him. "Did your voice just slip into an accent?"

Magnus blinked innocently. "What?"

"I could've sworn..." Alec sighed, then shook his head. "All right, whatever. Where are they?"

"Jace is at the bar." They both mentally added an "of course" to the end of that sentence. "Clary's with her boyfriend at one of the tables."

Alec's eyes widened and Magnus noticed that there were several different shades of blue in his irises. "She brought Ryan?"

"Yup. And don't worry - I don't have a lot of Downworlders here, and none of them brought their, uh, things. I think."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

It was the same old game for Jace. See Clary, get pissed because you can't have her, and take out your frustrations by flirting and banging another girl. Really, after six years of knowing the redhead, you'd think that Jace would catch a break. But no: for the first six months or so, they'd supposedly been related. Then they'd had a year and a half of happiness.

Then he'd gone off and been an idiot for four years, expecting her to wait around for him.

Yeah, no.

Really, what was it with Clary and brunettes? This Ryan guy was brown-haired, blue-eyed, and obviously quite caring. He wasn't the rash, impolite, devil-may-care kind of person. He was more reserved, careful, deliberate. He was steady.

Well, obviously, Jace thought bitterly. After the rollercoaster ride that was your relationship with her, she'd want to settle down. God, he was stupid.

They weren't even dancing. Of course not. They were sitting at a booth and talking, hands pressed together and laughs spilling out like a goddamn waterfall. That was all they'd done on the walk to Magnus's loft, too. Ryan had met up with them in front of Central Park and joined their group as they meandered over to the huge apartment, lingering behind them all with Clary as they held hands and quietly whispered. Ryan had told everyone that there would be a snowstorm later in the night and to hurry just in case, but his own speed directly countered his words. It was a stark contrast to how exuberant and loud Clary and Jace had been together, always arguing for one second then laughing during the next, poking fun for a minute then making out for another. It was slower, calmer. It was different.

Another difference that time had wrought.

He kind of wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed. Would she have gotten tired of their ups and downs? Would they have stopped laughing and started arguing more and more? Or would they already be in the middle of their own clichéd happy ending?

He caught Magnus and Alec whispering on the peripherals of the room, shooting glances between Clary and Jace as they talked urgently. Isabelle was biting her lip on the dance floor and watching Clary, whereas Simon had just squeezed her shoulder and was now making his way over to the stool next to Jace.

And right now, a heart-to-heart was not something Jace needed.

So he slipped off the barstool, spotted a hot brunette chick on the opposite end of the room, and started to walk.

"Who is that bloke?" Ryan asked Clary, fingers reflexively tightening over her own. Clary took a deep breath and followed his gaze to see Jace on the other side of the room, blonde hair glinting metallically under the flashing lights.

"Oh. Um, he's an old acquaintance. He went on a backpacking trip and was gone for four years." The lie slipped easily from between her teeth and Ryan cocked his head.

"He just left? Without telling anyone?"

Clary shrugged. "Well, he's kind of... unrestrained. He does what he likes, when he likes to."

"He sounds like a twat."

She bit back a laugh. "He kind of is, to be honest."

"So how do you know him?"

"Um." Well, what was she supposed to say? Oh, well, I kind of stalked him to the back room of a club six years ago because I thought he and his adoptive siblings were going to commit murder, but it turned out that he was saving the world from infestations, one demon at a time. Then we met again, I almost got killed, got sucked into a supernatural world, then had a blossoming chance at romance with the "twat" before we found out that we were siblings. No, don't run away! We turned out not to be! Hey, come back!

Yeah, no.

"Well," she started out haltingly, "we met up because Izzy was his adoptive sister and she dragged me to a meeting. Things just kind of went from there, but I'm not close to him." The last part wasn't a lie, at least. She was really starting to feel bad about lying to Ryan, but it was slowly becoming a habit. After all, she couldn't tell him about Shadowhunting, and that was a major part of her life. In fact, she had to conceal most things about her earlier life because they'd been too heavily impacted by the Shadowhunting world. He couldn't even meet her parents -

"Oh, God." Ryan's disgusted voice broke her train of thought. "He's one of those types, isn't he? Look over there. Bloody wanker."

Clary was almost scared to look, but forced her head to move anyway. Jace was holding a leggy brunette straight up against the wall, mouth practically ripping her face off already. Her hands were gripping the top of his jeans and she was more than reciprocating as Jace's hands began their familiar route around a girl's body.

"Shit," Clary breathed, quiet so Ryan couldn't hear her. She suddenly stood up and squeezed past him, shooting a forced, apologetic smile over her shoulder before heading toward Magnus's bathroom door. She skirted around everyone she knew, thanking the Angel Raziel for the bathroom vacancy. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, sliding down to cup her head in her hands as she crouched on the cold tiles. The bass line of the music pounded away, increasing the migraine that was threatening to bash her temples in.

Angel, what was he doing? He came back and acted like he wanted her back, like he expected her back. Then, with no moody or temperamental stage in between, he'd gone straight back to his playboy ways as soon as she'd given him the no. Not only did it hurt, it made her doubt everything once again. If he had enough courage, enough emotion, enough gall to just go ahead and use girls again like he'd done before her, how much of a lasting impact had she had on him? Had he even stopped fooling around with girls during their one and a half years of... whatever it was that they'd had? How could be he so...

So heartless?

Someone knocked on the door harshly, the vibrations of the wood searing into her back. She scrambled up and turned the lock back, opening the door to see a stranger doubled over and about to heave. She rushed out of their way and back into the throng of people pressing in at all sides, feeling the claustrophobia well up inside her chest and struggle for air. Throwing a quick, masochistic glance at the still passionately-making-out "couple", she avoided Ryan's searching gaze and threw the front door of the loft open, feeling the cold night air rush at her skin before she stepped out and ran.

Jace pushed the girl away as soon as he heard the door slam shut behind Clary. Feeling the ice-cold air from outside hit his fevered skin, he started to walk away. The girl (Zillah? Zianna?) didn't chase after him, knowing just as well as he did that it was all an act - maybe she had someone she was trying to show off to as well. He really couldn't summon the energy to care.

It was about to fricking snow, and she'd run out in nothing but her halter top and jeans. What the hell had she been thinking, and why wasn't her boyfriend taking care of her?

Speak of the devil, Ryan himself approached Jace with a wary expression on his face. "Seen Clarissa?"

Jace blinked at the use of her full name. "She left," he said, voice colder than the dark night outside. "Without her jacket, I might add."

Ryan frowned a little. "Why'd she go?"

Jace knew exactly why. "How the hell should I know?"

The other guy's frown deepened. "All right then. If you see her again, tell her I'm waiting at the table." He moved away, returning to the back of the room.

Dick. He didn't even offer to chase her down and return her jacket.

She was two blocks over by the time he caught up to her. His footsteps were as silent as ever, even the snow underfoot failing to crunch loudly enough to alert her to his presence. Consequently, when he touched her shoulder, she jumped about a foot in the air.

"Way to forget your jacket, idiot." His voice was brusque as he handed the mass of fabric over, soft cotton and silk brushing over her frozen arms and making her sigh in relief. She snatched it away from him, a whirlpool of emotion sucking at her stomach, and slid into the sleeves. She buttoned it up tightly and continued on her way, the wind picking up.

"Clary - " He'd reached out for her arm but instead got her hand. She yanked it away from his touch and scowled back at him.

"Don't follow me, Herondale." She ignored the way his voice had said her name: as if they were still lovers, still friends.

"Lightwood," he corrected easily, eyes glowing a bright gold as they assessed her from head to toe. "I think that there's going to be a storm soon," he said contemplatively, breaking his gaze to look up at the sky. It was a swollen, bloated gray, just about to burst. Visibility was already way down. "I figure I should walk you home. It's a long way to be walking alone, don't you think?"

"No," she replied shortly. "I'm not sixteen anymore."

"Age doesn't matter to the mugger," he chided.

"Look, whether you've accepted it or not, I'm a Shadowhunter now. I think I can take on a few muggers."

"Oh, the confidence of a beginner."

God, he was infuriating!

"Come on." He tugged on her elbow and urged her along. As if agreeing with him, the wind started to howl from behind and snow fell, dusting the dirty streets of New York with more melting flakes and black ice. She had no choice but to follow him, fingers clutching at his fleece jacket as she slipped. He instinctively braced her with both his hands, fingers wrapping around her shoulders. She shuddered and stood carefully, continuing on her way.

The snow was falling fast and hard now, building on the already high snowbanks and blurring everything in her sight. The streetlamps had either flickered out or were weakly shining orange through the storm, and winds whipped at her hair and almost lifted her off the sidewalk. Jace pulled her closer to him and made her walk in front of him, blocking the gusts with his back. The ice in her path made her stumble and slip often and she cursed the smooth soles of her Keds.

"Clary, the purpose of walking is to get from Point A to Point B," he whispered into her ear. His breath and his chest were the only warm things in the world. "You falling every five seconds is hindering the process here."

"I'm doing the best I can," she hissed back, leg sprawling out from her torso as she hit yet another patch of ice. "I want my Uggs," she whimpered, keeping her voice low so as not to alert Jace. He heard her anyway and chuckled, tightening his grip on her upper arms.

"Your feet must be freezing." It was his turn to speak quietly, and he did it so well she didn't hear him. Thank the Angel, she didn't notice his concerned tone either. He really needed to get a grip.

They were silent on the rest of the walk back to the Institute, the air between them heavy with flakes of snow and bitter, silent words.

Yes, there will be a confrontation later. Please don't hate on Ryan - he has his reasons for not chasing after Clary.

"Unconnected Sentences" Teaser:

Rye-bread.

Brian.

Rissi.

Drew Salinas really needed to stop calling.

What the hell.