A/N: First off, thanks to: Jinxed Ink, nijigoneko, absolutelywonderful, Bookworm24601, akkiofthefunk, and Patricia Sage! Your reviews are appreciated! Secondly, I just want to warn you: I cannot, under any circumstances, make anything bad happen to these amazing guys. In other words, this is gonna turn out to be teeth-rottingly sweet and fluffy!

Mmmkay… IMPORTANT! Italics are real life, while um… not italics (I guess… is there a word for not italics?)… is Alec's journal.

And yeah… his journal just starts here. Why? Use your imagination… maybe his last one just got full and he had to start a new one.

Sorry for another long note, but, enjoy!

Saturday, 10/2/10

I had to get out as soon as I could. The day started out just fine; I woke up only a tiny bit stiff from lying on a bony pile of boyfriend

Bony pile of boyfriend? Clary couldn't help but smile at Alec's word choice. He was obviously in love with the warlock, he'd proven that in the Accords Hall. It just seemed odd. Magnus was the one with the nicknames and public affection; Alec was always blushing when Magnus would say things like that. But it seemed sweet at the same time, almost like Alec was saving the best parts of their relationship for the two of them.

For five hours yesterday night. I don't understand his infatuation with that mundie television show. We have watched every episode- and I do mean every episode- and they never make it off the island! But honestly, as pointless as that show is, I can't find it in myself to hate it. How could I hate anything that let me canoodle- I took his word!- with my warlock for an entire night? No. If something is giving me the opportunity to lie in his arms with my head on his chest, I don't think it could be a bad thing in any way.

So, after endless hours of dozing through the odd show and sleepy conversations, I was in relatively good shape. I was still smiling from the evening with my sparkly boyfriend until I realized with a fright, that I could smell smoke.

After living with Izzy as a cook for almost ten years, I've come to learn that smoke in the morning is generally a very bad thing. Very very bad. Knowing that I could, and probably would, regret it, I made my way through the Institute to the kitchen. The choking black smoke was getting thicker the closer I got to the room, and I swore I could hear Izzzy scream "By the Angel" at least three times.

I had to pull my shirt over my nose and mouth before I could open the door. For once, I was glad that Magnus had refused to say no to a new wardrobe for me. If I were dressed like I was when I first met him, I'd have died of smoke inhalation. The man had a knack for saving me; on the boat, during the war, and now, salvation by t-shirt.

The navy blue cotton did stop enough of the acrid air from seeping into my lungs so I could keep going in. Izzy was less than thrilled. Her exact words: "Alexander Lightwood! I burned the pancakes, not set the place on fire!"

Jace and I set to opening every window we could find to air out the old church. How Clary was still sleeping through the chaos, I don't know.

I wasn't sleeping! Clary thought indignantly. I've just botched enough pancakes to know what they smell like when they burn! The only dangerous thing about the entire situation is that Isabelle was cooking!

I never thought I'd say it, but I'd rather my sister spend all her free time with the Daylighter than in the kitchen, especially when she's in one of her "Maryse Moods," where she refuses to take no (or Taki's) for an answer.

Suddenly, an idea worthy of Jace in deviousness, I think of a way to avoid "Poison via Pancakes, round 2."

"Izzy, Mag just invited me over to the apartment for breakfast. Sorry!" I turn towards the door before she can tie me to the chair I had been in moments before. I feel sort of bad for using my boyfriend as an excuse, but, the illness following Izzy's cooking is not worth the regret. Besides, Magnus wouldn't be okay with me suffering needlessly.

By the time I got to the flat, the burning scent had left my clothes to be replaced by the rank air of Brooklyn. I let myself in as quietly as I could. Hell hath no fury like a warlock roused from beauty sleep. Once I was inside the door, I slipped off my boots, opting instead to 'skate' to the bedroom in my socks.

With as much care as a surgeon, I peeled back the buttery yellow comforter of Magnus's bed. I didn't dare breathe as I slipped beneath the blanket.

Unebelievable! I'd done the impossible- snuck into a High Warlock's bed.

Relishing in my victory, I snuggled in closer to my silk-boxer-clad boyfriend. The citrusy, slightly spicy scent of pure Magnus rolled off of his bare back, and I did all I could to get closer without risking my safety and waking him up.

My eyelids grew heavier, and as I was about to drift back to sleep, the unthinkable happened. My stomach growled. Thin golden limbs thrashed about, throwing the canary sheets in a pile on top of me.

"Mag! Mag! It's just me, Alec!" I tried soothing him. As he pulled the heap of silken blankets off of me, he started to laugh.

"When'd you get here?" It was my turn to chuckle.

"An hour ago. I was almost asleep, until my stomach woke us both up!"

He always looks so different awake and without makeup. His lilting eyes glitter without cosmetic aid, and I like it better when he doesn't wear lipstick. I'll find blue smudges on my forehead, neck, and other places

Oh Angel, Alec! No details! No details! Clary decided to skip a few lines.

And it's surprisingly hard to get the oily stuff out of my t-shirt collars. That was yet another awkward conversation with my mom. "Hey mom, do you happen to know the best way to get lipstick out of cotton?"

"Did your sister chase you out of the Institute again?" Magnus asked, pressing a gloss free kiss to the crown of my head, his hair tickling my cheekbones.

"Mmmhmmm…." I muttered. "Pancakes."

"Do you have something against pancakes in general, or just when Isabelle makes them?" I laughed, hugging his lean shoulders.

"Would you make coconut pancakes?" I pleaded. They were a million times better than anything Taki's could whip up. Already pulling on his silk kimono, my boyfriend just smiled at me. Once the robe was tied, albeit loosely, around his lithe frame, he tugged at my hands and pulled me into a tight embrace.

He whispered onto my mouth, "The things I'll do to keep you here, even be a mattress." Too astounded at the sweet declaration to laugh, I just leaned into his lips.

A/N: Not so sure about Clary's thoughts interrupting. What do you guys think? Should I keep them? And that kiss is the slashiest I've ever done. I've read some pretty nasty stuff, but I was blushing just writing that. I have a sudden respect for smut writers!

The next chapter might be inspired by Bookworm24601's comment. If, that is, she lets me steal her idea!

And, in the future, don't expect updates this fast. I still haven't slept, but I'm on a Mountain Dew high right now. I'll try my best to post at least once a week, but it might not happen. Just a warning!

This isn't gonna have much of a plot either, but there will be more than little drabbles! Feedback (READ: COMMENTS) will help inspire me to write more.