Well hey, it's me again.

First off I want to say sorry. It has been like over a year since I last updated, and I bet most of you thought you would never see me again, didn't you?

It's been a hell of a year. I've done a lot. I graduated high school, learnt to drive a car, failed driving test, went to two school balls, was a first flute in Wind Orch, co-directed my house choir at school, dyed my hair brown, then red, then blonde, then pink, fought off several cold, stomach flus and emotional break downs, bought a car, almost ran said car into a sign, bought a new phone, had my first hang-over, went on my first date ever, and way more (not in that order).

Anyway, I'm sorry it's been so long, and I want to say a huge THANKYOU to everyone who's still reading; you deserve an award, particularly those of you who started reading back when I uploaded the first chapter.

I hope you like this chapter. I feel like the dialogue is slightly forced in parts, but I just had to publish something to get myself writing again.

Anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters, only the plot.

For a moment Simon stood in the doorway, feeling flushed, slightly breathless. It probably should have occurred to him that she would look different; it had been three years after all. But for him, every time he'd pictured her in his mind he'd just imagined her as the same old Clary, with her pale skin, skinny legs and knobbly knees. But she was different, of course she was different. Her hair was longer, looser curls, and she carried more flesh on her bones than she had before. The only part of her that felt the same as before where her eyes, which where currently staring at him, wide in shock.

"Simon-" She choked out, but he barely heard her; he'd already turned, spun on his heel and fled for the end of the hallway, the stairs, the exit.

It was funny because the whole trip there he'd been fuming, the anticipation of seeing her again igniting that old spark of resentment that had been lying present but dormant in his chest for years. But once he'd got there, something had changed. Maybe it was how different she looked, or maybe it was that combination of the fresh, delicate bruise just above her collar bone and him standing behind her, with his lazy eyes and just-had-sex hair; he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it had caused a dry throat and a dizziness and all he knew was that this was a mistake, and that he needed to leave. He made it maybe ten feet down the hallway before he heard her.

"Simon!" She called after him, "Please, wait!" He stopped, and swallowed before turning. She had rushed to keep up with him before stopping, an arm's length away. Her sun-dress had slipped from her shoulder, revealing light golden tan over a sea of freckles.

"Three years." His voice sounded small and embarrassingly hurt but he couldn't seem to help it.

"I know." Her voice was thick, choked with tears.

"You could have at least called." He told her and that's when she started to cry.

"I know." He felt his anger dwindle, unable to survive the sight of his best friend's tears. He wanted to comfort her, but he was frozen to the spot where he stood. His feet were rooted into the creaking floorboards that lined the hallway; he felt like he couldn't have moved them if he tried.

"I'm getting married." He told her. She sniffed.

"I know." He felt like they were running in circles.

"Can't you say anything else? Can't you say something other than 'I know'?" His voice sounded high pitched and desperate to his own ears, but his feet seemed to be freeing themselves as his frustration grew, and he took a jerky step backwards, away from her. She ran a hand through her curls, pushing them out of her face.

"What do you want me to say?" He wished she would get angry, yell at him, defend herself, something. But she didn't; she just stood there, guilt etched into every line of her expression. He didn't want her to feel guilty, that wasn't the point. He clenched his fists by his side as his face twisted into a frustrated scowl.

"Fuck, Clary, I don't know." He croaked, and sighed, suddenly very tired. "I don't know." A moment of silence. It was Clary who spoke next, soft and pleading.

"Can we not do this right now? I miss you." He sniffed, but he couldn't deny it; he missed her too, achingly so. Wasn't that the real reason he'd tracked her down in the first place?

"Yeah," He admitted and his voice was shaky, "I miss you to."

And before he knew what was happening there she was, tip toes and arms around him, squeezing tight. He laughed breathlessly, reciprocating the hug and wrapping his arms around her tiny frame. God he'd missed her. Clary was a part of him, missing for three years. And to have her back close to him again was a relief so strong it was almost overwhelming. He felt lightheaded, and maybe it was the diverse range of emotions he'd worked his way through in the past three minutes or maybe it was the drive, but he really needed to sit down.

Clary must have noticed this somehow, because she promptly pulled away and looked up at Simon with a tentative concern laced into her expression.

"Come on, you must be tired. Have you had dinner yet?"

Simon shook his head and before he knew it he was seated at a kitchen table in the middle of Clary's loft, sipping filtered coffee out of a chipped blue mug while Clary microwaved some left over spaghetti from a Tupperware container.

The loft was fairly small, and apparently divided into three separate rooms. The main living area was where Simon sat with Clary; a small kitchen (with not much more than a microwave oven, a coffee maker and a puttering refrigerator), an old dining table and chairw, a blue threadbare couch and armchair, coffee table and a TV. Jace was nowhere to be seen, supposedly disappeared into one of the two bedrooms that stemmed off either side of the living area.

"Why now?" Clary asked from the kitchen bench and Simon looked up from his coffee. "Why'd you come looking now?" Simon bit his lip.

"Izzy and I," He looked back down into his coffee intently, "We're getting married. Next week." Clary gawked.

"Next week?" She stopped, closed her gaping mouth, and blushed. Sliding into the seat across from him, she smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I don't mean to – I mean- I just thought you guys were, like, you know…" She hesitated and Simon interrupted.

"Going to wait?" He filled in. Clary nodded. "Yeah we were. I mean, we only just got out of college, we're barely twenty two."

"So why so soon?" Clary asked, before leaning in very close and whispering, "Is Izzy pregnant?" At that Simon choked on his coffee, spluttering embarrassingly.

"What?" He coughed out a guffaw as though she'd just accused him of joining a nudist colony, "No, of course not! Nothing like that." Clary sighed.

"Then what is it? Why rush into something so serious when you're so young?" Simon snorted.

"Yeah, says the girl who took off in the middle of the night for no reason."

"Not exactly the same thing, Si. Plus, I did have reasons, you just don't know what they are." He rolled his eyes as she pressed on. "C'mon. Tell me." Simon sighed, sliding down in his chair before pulling himself up straight, leaning forward on his elbows.

"It's like-" He paused, as though searching for the right words. "Like some kind of early-life crisis? Like it's hard to explain." He seemed to gain vigor as he spoke, confidence in his words. He continued.

"Clary, did you know that I just spent three years of my life earning a degree that is about as useful as my high school diploma? I slog my ass off for three years and wind up working for minimum wage at the Middleton Walmart and so I wake up one day and it just hits me like, what's the point? What exactly am I waiting for? Three more years isn't going to make me love Izzy any more than I do now, I don't think that's possible. It's just time spent waiting around for money and security I'm not going to get. Izzy thinks the same, so why deny ourselves of something we want." He shrugged then. "I don't know, maybe it's dumb, but it just felt like the right move, you know?" Clary nodded slowly.

"Yeah," Her voice was quiet, thoughtful, "I get that. I really do." The corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How did your mom take the news?"

"Not well. She thinks I'm being irresponsible."

"Are you?" He shrugged again.

"Maybe. Kinda tired of being responsible though. Besides, Mom doesn't really get it, none of them do. Their generation grew up in one of the most prosperous economies in America's history. They spent their twenties with a job right out of college and a student loan they paid off within five years of graduation." He laughed and she nodded.

"I know. My mom was twenty five when she and my dad bought their first house." Simon smirked.

"Yeah, and I'll still be paying off my student loans when I'm thirty five." They both laughed, if not bitterly. Clary may not have student debts but she and Jace had been living with no help since Jace's card had been cut off; she'd been dealing with the workforce for years, and knew all too well what it was like to struggle. So yeah, she got it.

"So," Clary stretched her arms above her head, clicking stiff joints, "An early-life crisis. That's what's inspired you guys to jump in so early." Simon nodded.

"Head first and hands tied." He agreed. "Clary, I want you to be there. You're my best friend." She hesitated.

"You know I want to be there too. I just don't know if I can go back to Middleton, not yet."

"Don't have to. We're in LA now." Clary's eyebrow's shot up at that.

"Really? That's like an hour away from here." He nodded.

"I know. We moved after graduation. Izzy wants to get into fashion, and figured she'd have better luck in LA. I was sick of Walmart so I followed. Didn't know you were so close until I managed to get your address out of Luke."

"Ah," Clary smiled and leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands and thinking of her step-father, with whom she'd been in regular contact since only a few months after her move to California, "So that's how you tracked me down."

"He cracked very easily," Simon told her, and she snorted.

"He never was good at keeping secrets he didn't want to keep. He thought I should tell you right from the beginning."

"So why didn't you?" Clary frowned and shook her head.

"Simon," She started, "You have to understand- there is so much about the past few years that I cannot explain. I did some really impulsive stuff, and I don't know why exactly or what for. I think…" She trailed off.

"It's okay," Simon reassured, "You don't have to explain. I don't think I'm that angry anymore."

"Were you very angry before?" He shrugged.

"I think I was more betrayed than anything." He told her, "Like, it was always us against the world and then suddenly you're off, riding into the sunset with one of the people we were supposed to hate?" He rolled his eyes and waved off her frown.

"And yeah, I know, that's such a high school way of looking at things but it's just how I felt back then. I'm sorry." She laughed, and he held his breath for a moment because God he'd missed her so much. He was about to tell her so, when a cough sounded from behind. Clary looked up and he turned to see a rumpled Jace Wayland standing in the doorway behind him. Clary grinned, slipping out of her chair and skipping across the kitchen. He grinned as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"So," He started in a voice too low for Simon to hear, "Magnus just texted me."

"And?"

"And, he wants to meet up at some party he's at with that new guy he's dating. Allan? Alex? Something like that?" Clary bit her lip, glancing at Simon, who sat staring very deliberately at the table top.

"Jace, I don't know if I can go tonight, cause', well, you know…" He smiled.

"I do know. I was thinking of going for few hours, so you guys could have some proper privacy and I wouldn't have to be trapped in the bedroom all night." She smiled sheepishly.

"That's perfect. Thank you." She tilted her head upwards and he leaned down and they met halfway, lips brushing chastely against each other for a small moment.

"Well," Jace said, voice louder this time, "I'll be off then." She unwound her arms from around his waist and found her way back to the microwave where Simon's forgotten dinner lay. Jace pulled his hoodie from where it hung over the back of the couch, pulling it on over his tee shirt.

"I can't say when I'll be back. Maybe in a couple of hours. Maybe in a few days. Maybe never." Clary rolled your eyes and opened the microwave, peering in at the now luke-warm spaghetti.

"Well," She said offhandedly, "If you don't come back until next week and I'm not here, it means I'm in LA. I'm going to a wedding." Simon's head shot up, a hopeful grin on his face.

"So you'll come?" She grinned back.

"Of course. Wouldn't miss my best friend's wedding now, would I?"

Suddenly Simon was up out of his chair and across the kitchen, and his long arms were wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him. He laughed and reciprocated the hug.

"Aw," Jace cooed as he watched them, "You guys are so cute." Clary and Simon parted and she frowned at Jace.

"You know," She told him, "I can never tell when you're being serious or not." Jace, for his part, looked offended.

"Hey, I am totally serious." He grinned then. "This is so exciting, I can't wait. I love weddings."

"Wait," she started, "hold up. Who says you're invited?" Jace leaned on the kitchen table in front of her and Simon, eyebrows raised.

"Well I think that's up to Simon to decide, don't you?" They both looked to the dark haired boy at the same time, and Simon blushed at the attention.

"Clary you get a plus one, so you can bring whoever you like." Jace perked up at this.

"Aw Clary, please take me. I love weddings." She snorted.

"So I've heard." Jace pouted at her, face pleading.

"Damn," she sighed. "Look at those puppy dog eyes, it's not fair. You know I can't resist those."

"So you'll take me?" She rolled her eyes and Simon laughed from where he leaned against the kitchen bench.

"Yeah I'll take you, you big dork. Now go away!" She lurched forward, interrupting Jace mid-victory dance, shoving him towards the door. He laughed but went willingly, calling out a lengthy farewell that continued even after she had shut the apartment door in his face.

She turned from the door to see Simon staring at her, expression unreadable.

"What?" She didn't mean to sound defensive, but there was something inscrutable about the way he was looking at her that put her on edge. Simon shook his head.

"No, nothing. Sorry." Clary let it go, returning to the kitchen where she stared at the cold spaghetti. Wrinkling her nose at the leftovers, she turned to Simon.

"Maybe we should just get take-out."

XXX

Four hours, two pizzas and one Die Hard movie later (the first one, duh), Clary found herself sitting cross legged on the mattress in her and Jace's bedroom, starring ineffectually at her sketchpad. Simon who now occupied the couch in the living room, had fallen asleep about an hour ago. Clary, who hadn't felt like going to sleep without Jace, decided to take advantage of the free time in order to concentrate on her recently neglected artwork.

When they'd come out to California, the idea was that it would be the perfect opportunity for her to concentrate on her art. She'd had ideas about a series of masterpieces that would get her noticed by galleries and collectors. She'd wanted to make a living out of her talent, but she was so naïve back then, she hadn't realised what living independently would mean for her and Jace.

Jace's card was cut off not long after they arrived in California. Neither Jace nor Clary was surprised by the development; she had figured that it couldn't be that easy, that eventually Jace's father would notice and/or grow bored of his son's absence and cancel the card. When he did, all they had was a couple hundred dollars in cash, and half a tank of gas. The next six months were the hardest. Working for minimum wage and sleeping in the back of their car through cold winter nights, she'd be lying if she said she had never thought about going back east to her mother's house. But she was nothing if not stubborn, and Jace said there was nothing left for him in Middleton, and by then they were a package deal; where one went, the other followed. So they'd stayed together in California, and waited out the storm.

It wasn't until they decided to try their luck in Long Beach that things took a turn for the better. Clary started at the restaurant and Jace found work with a delivery company. Six months after that Jace started taking night classes at community college. Fast forward two years and here they are, and it's all been such a blur that sometimes Clary looks back and she can't believe it's been three years since she left home.

Unfortunately in those past years her art had kind of taken the backseat to more important things like paying bills and rent and gas. She had managed to produce a series of paintings that impressed Jace but in reality were subpar at best. Art shows and collectors and galleries seemed so far out of the question at this point, but Simon's appearance had sparked some kind of inspiration, motivating her to dig out her sketchbook for the first time in three weeks.

Clary looked dejected down at the blank sketchbook paper, before turning to pout at her failed attempts at genius, the series of half-finished and abandoned canvases leaning against the wall next to the tall window that looked out onto the empty street below the apartment. She was just about the give up on everything and call it a night when she heard the soft click of Jace's keys in the front door.

Jumping off the bed, she caught him just as he was coming through the doorway into the kitchen. Hushing him and warning him of Simon's presence on the couch, she took his hand and led him into the bedroom, where he promptly collapsed onto their bed. Closing the door behind them, she turned to face her boyfriend.

"Hey." He grinned from where he lay on his back. She grinned back, tucking her leg beneath her as she settled down on the bed beside him.

"Hey yourself. How was the party?" He snorted as he rolled onto his side to face her.

"Lame. Literally all they had was vodka." He made a face, "I hate vodka." She chuckled and reached forward, running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes at that, and she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd started purring.

"But you did get drunk though." She said in reference to his flushed cheeks and sleepy eyes. "I can tell." He opened one eye, grinning mischievously.

"Of course I did. I'm not one to turn down free alcohol."

"Even if it's vodka?" He nodded seriously in response.

"Even if it's vodka."

"Did you meet whatsisface?" Jace frowned.

"Whatsisface? Oh, you mean Magnus' love interest that won't admit he's not straight?"

"That's the one." Jace shook his head.

"Nah. Left early apparently." She nodded at that, and they were both silent.

"Okay," She announced after a few moments, pulling herself onto her feet, "I'm changing for bed, and so are you." She began pulling her nightclothes out of the closet while Jace pouted at her.

"Ugh. I don't want to. Too much effort." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Take off your shoes at least, I'm not having you leave the bed all sandy." At that she left the room, creeping over to the bathroom to shower.

When she was done she returned to the bedroom to find a sleeping Jace, settled properly on the bed in only his boxer shorts. She discarded her sundress on the floor next to the dresser and lay down next to him, pausing briefly to turn off the lamp next to the mattress.

As she settled down into bed, she felt Jace turn on the mattress next to her and lazily throw an arm over her waist. Lacing her fingers with his, she stared out the open window, taking in the soft glow of the neon light from the deli across the street, listening to the hum of the city. It was early morning now, closing in on two am, but she didn't have to work tomorrow and there was nowhere else she needed to be.

And there, in that moment, everything was perfect. Her best friend was back in her life, she would go to his wedding. She was happy. She was in love.

But she should have known then, should have guessed;

What goes up, must come down.

Thanks for reading! I hope updating more regularly now that I have more time on my hands.

Please let me know what you think in a review or subscribe/favourite if you like this fic.

Thanks again lovelies! I'll try to update soon!

Love,

Beth