Hey! I worked faster than anticipated for you guys so here it is, the first chapter. As I said yesterday I don't own the MI series. And thanks for the review and continue telling me what you think, if you have ideas for later chapters do tell –I have a few ideas myself already.

Lilly

Chapter One: Welcome to New York, Valentine Morgenstern

"True to your heart
You must be true to your heart
That's when the heavens will part
And baby shower you with my love
Open your eyes
Your heart can tell you no lies
And when you're true to your heart
I know it's gonna lead you straight to
me"

She found that the smell of coffee and pancakes was sweetly satisfying after having to endure homemade breakfast with Isabelle the morning before – a mistake she would never make again. The smell of butter and maple syrup tickled her nose as she danced in front of the pan, singing with a spatula.

Clary had woken up, Jace's arms tight around her, her mind finally at peace. She knew she worried too much but she couldn't shake this feeling of insecurity when he was away, despite the fact that she knew bank management wasn't very dangerous. Besides, having a husband in the banking business had its undeniable perks, like the beautiful penthouse they were living in.

She stuck a strawberry in her mouth, humming with the music. She was deeply lost in her thoughts when she felt two burning hands around her waist. She smiled, chewing on her lip as he trailed a path of kisses along her bare throat and shoulder. She shivered and felt him smile against her skin.

"Good morning," she whispered, knowing that if she spoke any louder her voice would be trembling. She turned to face him, smiling widely. She pushed a blond curl out of his eyes. His hair needed cutting, she thought. The purple circles under his eyes were making them darker than usual. He was exhausted. She let her hand fall on the back of his neck and gently kissed his lips, pressing her body to his. He lifted her off the ground and sat her on the kitchen counter without breaking off their kiss. She smiled and out of breath she pulled away.

"How was London?" She didn't really care. He shrugged, cupping her face in his hands.

Her cheeks were flushed and she seemed to suffocate from the heat he was causing her. She could feel his steady heartbeat under her fingers, as if she was the only one who had no control over the way he made her feel. That's when she noticed the T-shirt he was wearing. She frowned.

"Since when are you so modest?" she laughed, pulling him closer to her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and nibbled on his lower lip as she slipped a hand under his shirt, blushing at the anticipated feeling of hard muscle at the tip of her fingers.

She heard more than felt him moan against her lips and smiled. She felt as if he had flipped a switch on somewhere deep inside her, an electric burning that was consuming her entirely. Her arms were suddenly yanked away and she blinked rapidly. With a swift move he had grabbed her wrists with his hands, slightly wincing. She looked up, confused.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Clary asked, although the minute it came out of her mouth she realized how insane it sounded.

"Of course not." Jace smiled, attempting to save a burning pancake but ultimately failing miserably. Clary didn't think he knew but she could see through that smile. Her guts were telling her something was wrong and she trusted them – after all, they had been right about Jace when they first met. "We wouldn't want to use up my batteries when we have all night, now would we?"

"Your batteries never die," she retorted under her breath, hoping he wouldn't hear her. "So tell me again why you're not already at work? It's eleven in the morning and I believe I am the artist," she said, pointing at her open sketchpad, scattered pencils and steaming cup of coffee on the table behind them.

"My plane landed at 1 a.m., so they've given me the morning off," Jace answered, lost in thought.

"How generous," Clary muttered. "Give me that," she ordered, seeing the strangely shaped pancake facing the same fate as the one before. She turned it around, letting Jace encircle her waist in his arms.

Safe, she thought. That's exactly how she felt when they were like this. He kissed her shoulder and she put a strawberry in his mouth, sliding the rescued pancake on a plate with the others.

"I love you," she blurted out.

He looked momentarily surprised, then his face softened and he crushed her against him, kissing her hungrily. She smiled, making a mental note of that moment for future references. Once again her hands found their way under his shirt, but this time he made no move to hold her back. Her camisole was first to hit the floor and she heard Jace let out a ragged breath at the sight of her bare chest. Clary was about to lift his shirt over his head when she froze, looking down at her fingers.

Blood was quickly inking the grey fabric with a hot crimson shade and a few drops had fallen onto her hands. She tilted her chin up, her face an expression of terror, her eyes so dark, they looked almost black.

"Shit," Jace groaned.

xXx

The Golden Door Gallery was located in the industrial neighborhood of Brooklyn. It had set up shop in an old warehouse from the late 1930s about forty years ago and hadn't moved since. It was well equipped with a storage room, a kitchen, a studio and an office. The building was made of red bricks and the huge double door had been painted in a rich gold, with elegant black letters carved in it. Flowerbeds of thousands of red roses circled the gallery and the windows had been changed and enlarged to let the light penetrate them.

Clary was awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, next to the cherub fountain. She wasn't sure what to do with herself while Laurel Miller, her agent, was finishing talking with the manager. When she had first met Mr. Gold, the owner of the gallery – the one in Brooklyn as well as a few others in Manhattan and around the world – she hadn't believed he was very interested in her art. But now that she was surrounded by her work, hanging on every wall bathing in the light of the early afternoon, she believed that her paintings belonged in this place. Her swirling starry skies were her best so far, they were what came the most naturally to her. Tonight was the opening of her first exhibition and she figured that it was the reason why she was so nervous – that and Jace's injury.

"My, my, my, what have we here?"

The voice startled her. A slender man had just walked in, wearing an electric blue shirt with navy and white striped jeans. His hair spiked on the top of his head in twinkling shades of dark and cobalt blue; both his big golden green eyes and his lips were perked up in a playful-yet-dazzling smile. Clary hopped toward him, her arms wide open.

"Magnus!" she exclaimed as he hugged her tight. "I wasn't sure you would make it."

"I wouldn't miss my best friend's big day for the world sweetie," he answered. "Besides, who better to dress you up than the devoted Magnus Bane, young and talented creator of WolfsBane?" He took a mannequin's pose, pursing his lips and squinting.

Clary rolled her eyes. "I'm always wearing your clothes – well, almost always."

"Of course, I make them especially for your tiny self," Magnus laughed, ruffling through Clary's red hair, the way a parent would. She grimaced, but didn't complain; she loved every piece with the WB logo she owned. "So," he continued, strolling beside the walls, "how do you feel about showing your work to the world?"

"I feel – " Clary looked away, looking for the right word, " – exposed." Her cheeks burned.

Magnus burst out laughing. "How did you feel when your first collection got out?" she inquired.

"Goddamn proud!"

"Of course, you're a genius," Clary replied, shaking her head. "And you were like 16."

"Who's a genius?"

"Izzy!" Clary and Magnus exclaimed. "I'm glad you could make it," Clary added.

"It was either spending the day with you guys, or endure another twelve hours of fighting with Savannah about baby names," Isabelle explained, falling on one of the leather couches pushed against a wall. She let out a moan holding her heels – new, no doubt - in the air. "You can't believe how grateful I am for this," she gestured at their empty and quiet surroundings before her hands found their spot on her three-months-pregnant belly again, where lately they always rested.

"I thought you were waiting to know if it is a boy or a girl," Clary said, sitting crossed-legged next to her, her fingers playing with Isabelle's long black plait. Magnus had found a place just behind her and was resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"She knows," he said, his eyes widening. "That's why you didn't pick up the phone? Oh my god!"

Isabelle's red lips parted in a radiant smile; she nodded.

"Well?" Clary asked.

xXx

Jace rushed on to the mezzanine that overlooked the New York's Domestic Protection Division office. He immediately spotted Alec, who, standing against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest, rolled his eyes; Jules Moreau, head of the DPD – in other words, his boss; Aline who had been assigned Morgenstern's case after the last techie got transferred to DC; and a few other coworkers he had collaborated with.

"I heard you spotted Morgenstern," Jace said without bothering to greet anyone. "Where?"

"Tribeca," Jules answered, her blue eyes peering at Jace, gauging his reaction.

"He's here?" Jace asked.

"And he's getting close," Alec added.

Jules nodded, pressing a few buttons on the remote in her hands. A series of pictures and documents appeared on the flat screens in front of them. Jace's face darkened at the sight of Valentine Morgenstern, underdressed at JFK security.

"How did he get past security?" Jace exclaimed. "He's wanted on every continent and the man just walks through the front door?"

"He has balls," Aline said. "We have to give him that."

"He used a new alias," Jules explained, pulling up a passport scan on a screen. "Michael Wayland."

Jace froze. "Isn't Jace Wayland one of your aliases?" Alec asked, a tinge of panic clear in his voice. "Sydney?"

"He's taunting us," Jules said between gritted teeth.

"It's working," Alec muttered, watching Jace fold his hands into two tense fists at his sides. "Jace," he warned.

"Aline, pull up every known associate of Valentine in the city," Jace ordered.

Aline turned her head to Jules who nodded. After a few seconds, a list of pictures and names from the database made their way onto another screen. Most of them were from out of town though, except for one.

"Emil Pangborn," Alec read out loud. "Why does it sound familiar?"

"He's a drug dealer," Jace answered, his golden eyes still staring at the screen.

"Drug dealer?" Jules repeated with a hint of sarcasm. "He rules the underground New York. We tried to take him down a few years back but it all went bust because of–"

"A mole," Jace finished. "I remember. We all had to pass extra polygraphs."

"Who's working the case?" Alec asked.

Jules bent over the railing. "Verlac!" she called. A dark-haired boy looked up from one of the cubicles in the far end corner. "Come here."

The young man quickly climbed up the stairs. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a gray shirt and a red tie. His hair was tousled, falling in his dark brown eyes, and his nose was slightly disproportionate for his long and oval face. Apart from that – and his questionable taste in fashion – Jace thought he looked like a guy who could have come straight out of one of Clary's novels – shy, but mysterious.

"Sebastian Verlac," he introduced himself, shaking Jace's hand. "I read all of your case files, Agent Herondale."

"How nice," Jace said and Alec dug his elbow in his ribs. He winced as the pain from his bruises came alive once again.

"Alec Lightwood."

"I know." Sebastian looked fascinated, which was making Alec uncomfortable.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" Jules suggested. "You monitor Pangborn's activities, correct?"

"Correct," Sebastian answered with a short nod.

"What can you tell me about him? What does he deal?"

"Everything that's ever existed on the black market, but…"

"But?"

"Well, I don't know if it's what you're looking for but I came to notice that it's not drugs he is interested in as much as information."

"So what kind of information could Valentine be after now?" Jace wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Alec admitted. "But it must be damn important if he took the risk to come all the way here."

Jace meditated Alec's response for a few minutes. "So what do we do?" he asked, turning to Jules.

"We watch him," she said. "Up close and personal."

"Alright."

"You can't obviously go undercover," she added.

"What? Oh yeah, since Valentine and I are big buddies now."

"Neither can Alec."

"That's okay, I really don't mind," he assured them with a half-smile. Jace shook his head.

"Wait. You've actually seen Valentine Morgenstern?" Sebastian asked. "The Valentine Morgenstern?"

"Yep." Jace grinned, a shadow of contempt darkening his gold eyes. "Do you want me to sign your chest or something?"

"Jace." Alec rolled his eyes. "Play nice." Jace shrugged, refocusing on the screens, crossing his arms on his chest.

"I think Sebastian should go," Jules said. "Undercover I mean."

Jace, Alec and Sebastian looked at her as if she were insane. "What?"

"She has a point Jace," Alec agreed. "He's a newbie so he's safe – more or less."

"Since when has safe stopped us?" Jace asked. "Valentine's mine. There is no way in hell that I'm letting him in on this."

"You're not," Jules agreed. "I am."

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Should Izzy and Simon have a boy or a girl?