Based on the Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices universe created by Cassandra Clare.

Thanks to SmileRen who basically just went through and followed and favorited everything. It's people like you who make me smile (pun intended, pun intended indeed).

Chapter IX

It was the morning after we hunted for the Vampire's lair. The kindest thing that could be said of the outcome from hours of searching through hostile greenery was that we knew where the vampires weren't hiding. To entertain myself on the walk, I had started to count the all of the large boulders we encountered; which was a surprising amount considering we were far from most mountain sides.

The search had lasted longer than June had promised, several hours more actually. By the time we got home I was about ready to pass out. I was experiencing a comatose type sleep till I heard something slamming, waking me up. My eyes cracked open and I turned in my bed to see Micah pulling the rug over the trap door.

"What time is it?" I grumbled, looking through the window and seeing that it was still relatively dark out.

"I think it's about five thirty am, why do you ask?" Micah responded cheerfully.

"Well I'm not sure what schedule Warlocks run on, but us humans tend to roost until this thing called the sun comes up,"

"Well seeing as you've slept for about 12 hours in total, I figured you were deep enough in a hibernation to not notice me doing my job," he walked over to the lounge chair and kicked off his boots.

I rubbed my eyes and sat upright, 12 hours of sleep? Jesus, this Shadowhunting was really quite taxing. I was usually a solid eleven and a half including small naps through out the day.

"Your job is slamming trap doors shut? Jeez, I hope they give you health benefits with that too," I may have had enough sleep for two teenagers, but waking me up at five thirty still was enough of a transgression to get high up on my shit-list.

"Actually I was working on a spell," Micah replied, pulling out a fishing magazine. I stared at the grinning man and dead fish which graced the cover of the May edition.

"A spell?" I asked casually, "what kind of spell?"

"Oh you know, just a small thing I concocted," he answered vaguely from behind the glossy cover.

"Are you going to tell me or do I have to bribe you with my body and fattest pig?" I asked impatiently.

"Well since you asked so nicely, I think I finally found a way to cover my Warlock mark!" he said, dripping with excitement. He tucked the magazine into the crack on the side of the couch.

"So it changes your um…" I made a motion with my hand around my face to indicate his coloring.

"Yup, I think I've got it now," he said standing up from his seat to come closer to me, "look at my eyes."

I drew in closer to his eyes and saw that his unusual green was swapped to a basic brown tone.

"Wow that's really something," I said grinning, more amused at his excitement, than impressed with the results, "not to um, rain on your parade or anything. But I think you may have bigger fish to fry than just eye color."

"Skin and hair, I know," he said, waving away my concern, "I have the mixture ready I just need to do a spell to concentrate it in one area."

I nodded, "so what are you going to do with the mixture?"

"Sell it on Ebay,"

"So when they sell stuff that's haunted and magical on there, it's real?" I pondered.

"No I'm kidding, I'm going to use it to leave the house," he said smiling.

Since telling me his plan, I watched Micah with a wary eye. Leaving the house was all fine and good but he was under the watchful eye of June who, for some unknown reason, encouraged him to remain a recluse. I also felt like I wasn't getting the entire story when it came to Micah and his need to be hidden away. Sure I knew about the Clave and how they couldn't know that he lived here, but it wasn't like any of them were around. After giving him a few warnings, which he ignored, I just ignored him whenever he brought it up by trying to read another section of the damned Codex.

For once, I was early to my workout session with Lysander. Not that I minded working out with him, especially when he wiped the sweat on his brow with the bottom of his shirt exposing his well developed abs. Other than enjoying the company I found that I also enjoyed feeling like I was improving each time. Even my muscle soreness was starting to wane. Even though I had enjoyed working out and spending one on one time with Lysander, I felt the itch I always felt, whenever I was doing something well.

When I came back from my workout with Lysander, Micah was humming to himself while working away at the stove, with an watermelon printed apron on.

"Wow, someone's in a good mood," Lysander said as he smiled and walked into the kitchen.

"I saw the garden growing some sharp looking tomatoes and I thought I'd better cash in before they fertilized," Micah spoke while wearing a large grin, "food will be ready in like ten, you guys should shower."

Lysander and I watched as he hopped out of the room carrying a plastic bag full of empty bottles of June's fiber shakes.

"He is in a good mood, last time he recycled was when we bought him the laptop," he looked at me with a smile on his face, "if I didn't know any better I'd say you're having a positive impact on him. It's good that you guys are getting along."

I nodded, walking out of the room to shower. I wasn't going to tell Lysander the real root of Micah's happiness: which had nothing to do with me.

We all sat in the table freshly washed, while Micah piled our plates with crepes, one savory and another with powdered sugar.

Lysander groaned in approval as he dug in, "how the hell did you find powered sugar?"

"It's from last year, but don't worry; sugar doesn't go bad," he said while cutting into his own crepe. I took a bite of mine and last nights meal of barley and chicken broth soup was swiftly forgotten. It was wonderful. June walked into the room, and abruptly froze looking at the table, which already had a plate set for her piled in food.

"Micah, did you make... food?" she asked while eyeing his apron.

"No need to act so surprised, I thought it would be a nice change from the usual vitamin and vanilla cocktails you drink," he said, for once regarding June with affection. June cautiously sat down and looked at her plate.

"It just got off the stove five minutes ago so it should still be hot," Micah said egging her on. June hesitating a second more before picking up her utensils.

"Crepes have eggs in them, and sugar is good in moderation," June said as if she were trying to justify the meal to herself. She started to eat too and then the conversation began to flow easily with the assistance of good food.

"I thought you and Harley should know that Lysander and I will be doing some late night scouting tonight. We should be home within three hours tops."

I glanced over at Micah whose smile, if possible, became even wider.

"Don't work too hard," Micah said to them while trying to suppressed his visible glee. I wanted to smack my forehead: it was as if he was trying to draw as much suspicion to himself as possible. Lysander, however, looked completely oblivious and continued to lick his plate for every last fleck of powdered sugar.

"Nonsense, we need to find some meaningful results soon or the Clave will have us relocated; Angel knows they have enough to deal with," it also seemed that June wasn't suspicious, because she was wearing what I liked to call her serious business face. Whenever she wore it, she was likely distracted thinking about serious things: about Shadowhunting and stuff.

Lysander picked up the slack of the conversation at where June had left off, "we just got a letter from the Inquisitor who wanted a report on our progress, so we're under a bit of stress."

"That doesn't sound good," Micah said, "maybe you should go stake a few vamps to ease their stress."

"The thing is we haven't heard about or seen any vampires," Lysander said, sounding mildly put off, "they don't leave tracks, they're hardly ever seen as it is and even if we can get a trail on them, they disappear."

Micah looked like he was considering the information carefully, "weird, I would normally say that they were in league with a warlock but my detector would tell you if they were using any of that sort of magic."

"They haven't gone off," Lysander said shaking his head. I was hit with a powerful flashback to my Vampire experience and the note I had gotten in my house. As far as I knew, they only were aware about the note. But I wondered if I could tell them about my experience. But there was a problem; if it were in any way related to Ebony, who presumably was hunted by both the Clave and Downworlders, they might realize that she was in town. Besides, I didn't think telling them would help with their mission anyways.

June broke me away from my thoughts when she spoke up, "Micah, if you could maybe make a few more sensors tonight just to be safe. And Harley, you can read the Codex. Lysander, we should pack the car."

Lysander and June got up from the table and I began to wash dishes. I noticed that Micah got up right after and followed suit; usually we never washed dishes because we ate from take out boxes. But making food ourselves required the occasional domestic duties. When I walked through the back door, Micah was side by side with me walking soundlessly. It wasn't until we stepped off the porch to walk through the vegetable garden that he spoke up.

"Looks like the plan will be easier than I thought," I internally groaned when I realized what he was referring to.

"Micah, are you sure you should be sneaking out? I feel like it might be a good idea to do what June told us to do,"

"Hm, are you one of those people who always follows the rules? I already have a dozen sensors ready anyways,"

"No! It's just sometimes-" I halted when I realized that no; I never did follow the rules. Rarely in fact. This week was probably the most diligent I'd ever been. I woke up early every day and hadn't eaten chips or drank soda. Once I acknowledged this to myself, the inch in me grew to a new height.

"You know I've snuck out of my house so many times I can't even count it on all my fingers and toes," I said abruptly, changing what I was going to originally going to say. Micah looked a little confused but seemed to sense that the change was a good thing for his plan.

"I don't really have to sneak out, since I live in a detached building," Micah said, seeming to understand where I was going with this.

"What are you going to do once you sneak out?" I asked him as we reached the door to our shared room/house. I walked through the door but Micah stood in the door way. He seemed to be thinking over my question.

"You have no idea right?" I asked him trying to hold back a smile.

"I had a whole list of things I wanted to do, I planned this out before but I can't remember some and the ones I do remember I can't do," he said looking flustered.

In that second I made a decision, a stupid and brash one, but the burdensome itch demanded it.

"You know I may have two tickets for a concert tonight,"

Micah looked at me wide eyed for a second. Then slowly he mobilized and jumped up in the air.

"Awesome, wait really? What's it for?" he asked, excited as a puppy about to pee itself.

"I don't know, but I think it's supposed to be good," I replied, remembering how Ebony had mentioned how they were a semi-local band. I didn't particularly want to see them, but the need for a bit of rebelliousness mixed with the desire to do something normal had made me not particularly picky.

"I'm in,"

For the next half an hour before the concert, I laid out my clothes on my bed looking over them. I grimaced when I realized that I hadn't brought anything for this occasion. I thought of going to my old house to get something, but June had informed me that under no circumstances was I allowed to go home since the person who left the note could be staking it out.

The one item I felt I could wear was a pair of my print leggings. Lucky for me the shadow hunting uniform was quite chic and I decided to use the leather jacket as well. Finally a pair of boots with one of my clean white tank tops.

"Micah! Are you ready?" I asked him again while I ran a blow dryer through my hair in the bathroom, "we have twenty five minutes!"

"I've been waiting for you downstairs!" he replied indigently.

"I only was drying my hair to kill time!" I said while walking downstairs. When I was halfway down, I noticed Micah.

He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a pair of chucks. He had ditched his two jacket combo for only one basic jean jacket. That however wasn't what made me look, but the complete change of appearance.

His hair was a dark brown, nearly black, color. His skin was tanned and his eyes were the same brown I had seen this morning.

"Wow you look completely different!" I said in awe walking down the last few steps.

"Yeah, it should last for a couple hours if I fixed it up right."

"Then we shouldn't waste anytime, I'll call the taxi."

By the time we got to where the concert was being held, it was fifteen minutes till show time. No one was outside as we walked through where the line to get in usually was. I wondered if we still had time. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was Merriam who was watching the door and acting as a bouncer.

"Hey Merriam!" I said as we both walked up to the door. She had her long hair styled in an Amy Winehouse-esk beehive and her entire outfit seemed to be channeling a rocker/vampire/halloween costume vibe. This was actually one of her more tamed concert looks I'd seen.

Her eyes widened when she saw it was me, "Harley! Wow I'm so glad you came here tonight!"

"Yeah wouldn't miss it for the world, I love The-" I looked up at the poster taped on the door, "-Red Herrings…"

Merriam grimaced, "I wasn't too impressed when they played last time but fingers crossed for improvement?"

She lead both me and Micah through the door, and we walked into a crowd of spectators. The hall was crowded, which was a small consolation; If the general public thought they were good, they couldn't be too bad. And to be honest, Merriam listened to some weird punk/ska fusion shit so her taste was questionable.

"Why don't you guys get one of the tables," Merriam said to us, "I'll bring over some drinks."

Merriam winked and strutted away in her leather lace up thigh-high platform boots. Micah stared after her.

"You know her from your youth group right?" He quipped.

"Haha, you shouldn't judge her. Especially since she just offered us VIP seats and access to alcohol," I lead him through the crowd to the tables, "it's up those stairs."

We walked up the stairs and walked onto the loft which was littered with seating, pool tables, and some old arcade games.

"Kitschy," he said looking around, "I don't I've ever seen tie dyed mummy statue before."

I followed his eyes and saw that, indeed, there was a mummy statue in the corner. The owner Carlos was an obsessive collector and had unleashed his passion on the venue. Behind the bar downstairs, he had the entire wall covered in fish plaques. We sat down at an table towards the very edge of the balcony, empty since two pillars blocked the stage view partially.

"So I wasn't sure if you would want shots, beer or something fruity and womanly… so I brought them all," Merriam sat down with a tray with two of everything she'd said, along with a beer for herself.

"You're spoiling us, seriously this has got to be at least 50 bucks worth," I complained feeling bad. I didn't have very much cash on me and had planned to space my spendings for a while, since I would only gained an income from Shadowhunting once I was actually on an actual assignment.

"Don't be stupid," Merriam said scowling, "I remember when you came in to help set up and clean up for one of our shows."

"It was The Civil Wars, I would have stuck my head in the shitter and bobbed for excrement like they were apples to have a chance to see them play," I said remembering the show and my excitement for it. I hadn't gotten tickets and had begged Merriam to hook me up, which she did. All I had to do in return was to wipe the floors clean of grime and questionable liquids. She had needed extra hands on deck since nearly half the town came.

Merriam grinned, "okay, truth is that these shots were from a guy who was trying to hit on two girls at the bar. They turned him down, I mean who hits on two people at once? He left for the parking lot for a "smoke." Since its been two hours I don't think he's coming back. So they're in your custody now."

"Okay I'm convinced," I grabbed a shot and opened my mouth to accept its mind numbing therapy, "Ugh, you don't know how much I needed that."

"Sorry I've been crazy rude," Merriam said looking at Micah and sticking out her tattooed hands, "I'm Merriam, it's nice to meet Harley's boyfriend."

I coughed into my hand and Micah's newly olive toned complexion turned into a deep red. He mumbled a small greeting back while shaking her hand.

"He's not my boyfriend," I said laughing.

"Right," she said raising her brows suggestively and taking a swig from her beer, "okay I'll admit I had some ulterior motives other than drowning your underage asses in alcohol and making uncomfortable observations; I was going to ask if you'd heard anything from Ebony...?"

She was raptly looking at me and I surreptitiously glanced at Micah.

"I haven't been able to contact her and I've been calling her like crazy. I'm starting to think your theory on Mob connections wasn't crazy."

I laughed and felt a trickle of sweat trail down my neck. I noticed that Micah was listening to our conversation with a furrowed brow. I tried to think of a way out of this, I couldn't have Micah saying Ebony's name around June and Lysander.

"Oh yeah she called me a couple days ago," I said easily, smiling for extra effect, "she's was broken down in some town tinier than Greaton: somewhere in Colorado I think. She just got to her grandma's yesterday, who is hella sick."

Merriam first looked relieved but then a small flash of hurt played across her face before returning back to her usual sloppy smile, "thanks for the info, tell me if she calls. I'd love to talk to her."

Just as she finished her sentence, The Red Herrings walked on stage with their instruments. In contradiction to their name, none of them were wearing the color red. In fact, their fashion choices definitely didn't radiate the sexual appeal that was usually demanded of rock stars. especially the drummer who was wearing a orange beanie and giant grey hoodie combo, obscuring his face. The lead singer was wearing jeans and a Jamba Juice t-shirt, presumably the day job he had till his music career took off. Still, keeping the benefit of the doubt, hopefully their music wouldn't affect the well being my my eardrums.

"Shit-fuck-shit, I have to go and help with sound!" she said getting up carefully while holding her hair in place, "you kids have fun!"

And she sprinted efficiently down the stairs, especially considering the fact that she had a half foot tall beehive and platform boots to keep track of. The band was still messing with the mike stands and sound, so I turned to give Micah some attention.

"So hows it feel being out of the crypt?" I asked with a crooked smile.

"Good, there are definitely more piercings around than I was expecting," he said glancing at one of the groups sitting in the surrounding tables. There was a guy with a Septum piercing and coaster sized gages sitting with a girl who also was sporting a fair few herself.

"Sorry I ignored you when Merriam was sitting, she kind of overtakes group conversations," I apologized.

"No, it's probably my fault," he mumbled looking back at the stage, where the lead singer had dropped his mike, which was rapidly rolled away off stage.

"Your fault?" I mocked, "there's no way that was your fault that I hijacked that conversation."

"Well… I don't know. I just am maybe a little awkward with this whole social interaction thing," he said staring intently at the stage. I instantly felt much worst. Not only had I completely ignored him when talking to Merriam, but I had missed the chance to expand his social horizons and really make something of this trip for him. I came to an epiphany; I was going to make Micah really enjoy this night. He passed almost all of his time in a cellar for Christ's sake. This night wouldn't be about me being rebellious and stupid, it would be about Micah enjoying life in the real world.

"Well you know the universal cure for that is my friend," I grabbed the small glass off the tray and placed it in front of him, "your turn!"

He looked at the glass apprehensively and turned it over in his hand, "I don't know… what do I need to do?"

"Oh shit, sorry, have you drunk alcohol before?" I asked.

"Only at the fourth of july parties that the rats throw in the tunnel," he said back. I smiled at his comment, at least his kind of douchie, self-assured self was back.

"Okay it's really easy, all you need to do is open your mouth, create a slight slide shape with your tongue and let the alcohol drop in with a quick hand motion," I demonstrated with my empty glass, "got it?"

He nodded determinedly and held his hand, "I've read an article on how to do this online, I think I'll do okay."

"You've read an article on how to take a shot?" I tapped my face thoughtfully, "I never thought of going about my alcohol knowledge that way. Let's see how it pays off. Make sure your esophagus is wide-open too."

He snorted at the last comment but didn't respond, but stared at his glance like he was waiting for the gun to blow in a race. I made a hand motion to indicate for him to go. He pinned me with one determined expression before lifting the glass and clumsily throwing it back.

"Oh god! Why did you do that? That's not what I told you to do!" I said horrified. He was sputtering and his eyes watered.

"Oh my god that tastes like retired man shit," he said coughing.

"Yeah, well if people liked how it tasted, alcohol poisoning would be as common as the hiccups."

"You put it down so easily!" he accused, "you drank it like it was a caparison."

"Well with some practice-" he reached out to grab one of the "Fruity womanly drinks" and also tossed most of it back, "-shit! Slow down I don't know what your tolerance is and I won't stay up the entire night holding your hair back."

He sighed once he got to the bottom of the glass, "that tastes so much better than the shot."

"Here take mine too," I raised pushing the glass at him, "but wait ten minutes before drinking it!"

"They're not too bad," Micah said thoughtfully, referring to the band who had started off the show with a jazzier piece. I hadn't even noticed that they had started with all the commotion at our table. I looked to the side of the stage to see Merriam giving us a thumbs up.

"I would rate them pretty high up on the beginners scale," I said, "I don't know if they were going for the distorted-background-noise affect, but I can't hear anything the singer is singing."

"I think he said the word pumpernickel at some point," Micah said suppressing a grin.

"Booty popping?" I said repeating a line I thought I heard, "call me unimaginative but I can't see the connection between booty popping and pumpernickel."

"You are unimaginative, booty popping and pumpernickel are basically interchangeable," Micah said this time letting out a chuckle.

"They're instrumental work is fine,"

"Nah, the drummer is pulling all the weight, he's way too good for these guys," Micah responded. He picked up the remaining fruity drink and began drinking it. Instead of objecting I decided to join him, but with a beer instead.

"So what were you in school anyways?" Micah asked curiously, "a raver or druggie?"

"Same thing," I joked, "no, but I was nothing in high school. Floater maybe."

"Floater," he repeated, seemingly for no reason, "well I'm still confused of how you ended up in this crowd,"

"This isn't entirely my crowd, I know two people here and maybe a few more go to my school," I sipped my drink thoughtfully, "why are you so interested in high school?"

Micah shrugged comically, "I dunno, I suppose curiosity. I've watched my fair share of glee."

"Glee?" I asked with raised eyebrows, pressing my lips together holding back a tidal wave of a laughter.

"Hey, some of them have really good voices and the first two seasons were okay," he defended.

"No judgment, since at the end of the day we're all in the mud," I reassured still snorting. I moved on to the last beer on the tray.

"Still wouldn't mind attending school, though I think my traditional education is a bit rusty," he said, then covering his mouth to -unsuccessfully- conceal a burp.

"Nonsense," I said slapping his arm, "you seem plenty smart. How do you do that anyways, without school? Hell, I go to school and I'm not that smart."

"I do a lot of reading, the library you walked through the first time you got to my tunnel, ton of those are mine," he said proudly. There was something nice about someone enjoying education, even though I had no idea what that felt like.

"You spend all your time in a house?" I asked, "That seems like a lonely life."

Even with his drunken buzz I could sense that Micah was a little uncomfortable, "yeah well hopefully it's a short-term thing. Maybe I'll move to new york and become a green magical fashion designer!"

I bursted out laughing, "I'd like that, how likely do you think that is?"

"Well I can't really leave the house since that crazy-" Micah froze mid-sentence and seemed to realize that he said something wrong, though I had no idea what. He grabbed my beer from the table and began sipping it. In this uncomfortable moment, I stared at the stage and listened as the singer introduced their next song, written by the drummer who wrote it about a girl. How original. My distaste woke me up from my stupor and I looked around the loft to find something to coax Micah back into conversation. I noticed that a group of very formally dressed girls leaving a table while giggling. I watched them walk away and saw a waiter come upstairs, I didn't recognize this guy but I saw that he had a tray of more fruity drinks in his hand. He looked around confused and I raised my hand to wave him down.

"What are you doing?" Micah asked, not quite slurring but his speech definitely wouldn't be winning him any presidential debates.

"Shush," I said under my breath as the waiter made it to our table.

"Can I help you?" he asked while looking around at the tables.

"Yes we'd like our drinks please," I said smoothly, staring straight into the waiters eyes with a relaxed smile on my lips.

"I think there was a group of girls sitting around here who ordered it…" he said looking around for them.

"Our friends, we just came a couple of minutes ago and they told us to hold down the fort while they went to the bathroom. Even though we're the same gender I will never understand why women go to the bathroom as a herd," I said rolling my eyes like we were sharing an inside joke. The waiter relaxed, and then his eyes caught sight of Micah.

"Are you old enough to be drinking?" he asked, damn tight asses.

"Yup, I'm over eighteen," I wanted to punch myself in the face, then repeatedly kick Micah's. But the oddest thing happened, the waiter swayed in place like he was hit with vertigo and he placed the drinks down without making eye contact with either of us. He abruptly turned around and began marching away downstairs, without a word to the couple who was trying to flag him down.

"Okay… what the fuck just happened?" I asked Micah, staring at the staircase that the waiter disappeared to.

"We got drinks!" Micah said holding up one of the four glasses and eagerly drinking it.

"No, I'm talking about the fact that our waiter just checked out of reality when he handed your underaged-ass drinks. And for future reference: the drinking age in America is twenty one."

"Oh that was some mind control thing I've been working on. A bit of glamour compulsion to confuse him," he chewed the inside of his mouth, "I think I may have hit him with too much, I can't really control my magic too well I think; when I'm skunked."

Skunked?

I wasn't sure how much alcohol was in the fruity drinks but I didn't know a sober person who would use the word skunked in a sentence unless they had a gun pointed to their family's heads.

"Okay I'm cutting you off!" I said reaching for the drink in his hand.

"No!" He moaned leaning away from me, "I can still do magic! I'm fine!"

"Can you do magic?" I ask with my arms crossed, "the ones you drank before should be hitting you pretty hard, and you're already halfway through the one in your hand."

Micah turned from the table and pointed down into the crowd, "there's a fairy."

"What?" I ask with my eyes wide, "did they slip Ariocarpus cacti in your drink or something?"

"No, you don't get it," he said shaking his head in an exaggerated way, "I have the magical ability to pick up other mythical creatures. If fact, some might say it's overdeveloped from overuse,"

I scanned the crowd to find the supposed fairy. And really, even with out the magical ability I could have found out he was a fairy. Though it was dark I could see that he had light skin, almost glowing. His face from where I was sitting looked small and pointed. His straight grey/silver hair was grown out to the middle of his back and he looked to be wearing clean peasant clothing from the 1500's. Many people around him were also staring at his appearance, and you know it's bizarre if a guy with a heavily tattooed face is giving you the up an' down.

"Oh my god, you're right!" I said looking at him, "Wait! Should we go?"

"Nah, he hasn't spotted us in the last half hour he's been snooping in this place and I doubt he's going to make a break through," Micah said waving his hand dismissively.

"Snooping?" I asked looking at him, annoyed that he hadn't mentioned that there was a fairy before. The fairy wasn't looking at the stage, but rather he was turned around and aggressively scanning the crowd. That didn't seem good.

"Look, my guess is that he's not searching for Shadowhunters and Warlocks, or else he would have found us."

"What's he looking for then?" I asked him. Micah once again, dramatically shrugged and plopped a fake cherry in his mouth that was from his drink.

"You should stop looking at him and just do what you were doing before. Looking tense will only make him suspicious," Micah said trying to calm me but failing when he let out a burp. I was still on the fence, burping aside he had a compelling point: or maybe it sounded compelling since I was tipsy. I could just keep an eye on him. My course of action was decided.

"Hand me one of those!" I said referring to the drink. He complied and I tipped it back into my mouth. He was right, these were much better than shots.

By the end of the concert, I'd finished my drink and Micah had downed the remaining two. I was a little bit out of it but was still managing. Micah however seemed to have reached the point of giggling at everything I said, even the non-funny. The concert had ended and we had less than half an hour to get home for Lysander and June.

"Get up Micah, I texted the taxi service, we should be gone soon," I said tucking my phone away.

"Aw no! The night is still young and full of terrors!" Micah said, "wait, that's not right; I think I accidentally quoted Game of Thrones…"

"Okay, the concerts been done for a couple minutes and I-"

"-You, what are you doing here?" I turned to follow the voice and landed on a orange beanie wearing tall guy.

"Hey! You're the drummer!" I said obnoxiously.

"Props man, but the rest of your band is shit though," Micah piped in from beside me. The drummer guy looked at Micah disgustedly and turned back to me wearing the same expression.

"You were the one I though was the witch," he said glaring at me. I had a sort of drunken brain blast moment and realized who I was talking to.

"Record-store-guy!" I gasped, "I mean Jefferson!"

"Why the fuck did you lie to me? Do you realize what you did? Do you realize how this effects Ebony?" He thundered, some people around us glanced in our direction. I smiled indulgently at them and rolled my eyes, better the masses think that this is some sort of joke.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Wow man, just have a drink," Micah slurred, handing him the one in his hand, "admittedly it's mostly swill now but I'd say there's a solid mouth full left."

"I am, and so is everyone else in a ten mile radius. Now pipe the fuck down and talk like a civilized homo sapien," hopefully drunk Micah would have no recollection of this but just in case, "Micah why don't you walk downstairs, carefully, and go drink a ton of water?"

Micah considered this for a moment and nodded in agreement. He began walking away and slapped Jefferson on the back as a goodbye. The drummer's poster was taunt and aggressive.

"Can you explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to steal Ebony's envelope?" he asked in a lower voice than before but still maintaining the same level of anger. Before I had though he was attractive, but now my opinion of him had gone down dramatically since witnessing the throbbing vein on his forehead and bulging crazy eyes.

"I didn't know what that file was!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh so you thought you would just take it? And you're hanging around with the Clave, a warlock and probably that fairy downstairs!" He gritted, "I though you were her friend."

"I am, who the shitting hell are you anyways?" I challenged. That question seem to freeze him for a second before he reverted to his anger.

"I'm also her friend, one who knows more about her then you'd ever hope," did he really just say that? I felt like I was reliving a fight I'd had in middle school.

"Why would you give it to me then?" I challanged crossing my arms, "if you really cared about her, you would check before giving important packages to people you don't even know."

My comment seemed to have hit him in a strangely personal area and he looked ready to punch me, "I thought you were the warlock who was supposed to do the spell."

"That is some grade-A logic, what made you think that?"

"Your hair is purple and you hang around Ebony," he said, his anger winding down, "You know what, this is getting me nowhere. I still have time to make sure everything she wants still happens, I can still help her."

He turned around and began sprinting down the stairs. I yelped and began chasing after him. Whatever exercise I had done didn't prepare me for a chase because by the time I stepped out the front door he was driving his car away dodging the one couple walking in the parking lot.

I sighed remember that the taxi was supposed to be here at any moment. I almost turned back into the concert hall until I looked back at the couple in the parking lot. It was one of the girls who was in the group that I stole the drinks from. I was only able to recognize her because of her flashy, too fancy, dress. She was leaning almost all of her body weight on a tall pale man with brown hair.

I was about to turn away but something didn't feel right. I looked back at them again and saw that the man was nearly dragging the girl towards what I assumed was a car. I looked around the parking lot and saw that no one else was here. I breathed a gulp of air for courage and marched my way over to them.

I tapped the man firmly on the shoulder, "excuse me."

He turned around swiftly, greeting me with a classically handsome face with mild stubble. His eyes were a nice brown that shone even in the dark. He was carrying a pretty petit black haired asian girl with very blue eyes. I pegged her to be maybe a year or so older than me. They could have easily been seen mistaken for a couple but the way the man smiled made me recoil immediately.

"Do you know him?" I asked the girl firmly. She looked at me and then the man, he was staring at her with a fake smile. And she weakly nodded.

"Yeah we just met at the bar tonight," he spoke in a British accent and turned his fake smile on me.

"Where are you thinking of taking her?" I asked, knowing the answer. He raised a brow as if to ask me if I was really that naive.

"We decided to go home together," he said, answering for both of them again.

"She doesn't look like she's doing much deciding,"

"Ask her yourself if she wanted to come with me, she'll tell you yes,"

"I think she would say yes to a lot of things right now, with out knowing it," I turned to the girl, "do you want to go sky diving over an active volcano?"

The girl looked at me and smiled. She looked about ten times as drunk as Micah, in fact I didn't even think you could get that drunk with out being dead. A sinister thought snaked into my mind and planted itself: Ambien.

"Okay that's enough, she's coming with me," I coaxed her into my arms, but he quickly turned away before I could get within a half foot of her and he grabbed my arm.

"Would you like to join us," he said staring into my eyes.

I snorted and made a face of disgust, "No. Fucking. Thanks."

I twisted my arm out of his grasp and grabbed the girl roughly while elbowing the man in the stomach. He grunted and I used that time to pull the girl behind me who, at this point, was almost asleep. I looked at the concert venue's door and saw Micah standing there. He was still red faced from the alcohol, but he seemed to have sobered up a bit from drinking water.

"What happened her? Who is she?" Micah asked jogging over to me, looking at the small girl in my arms.

"Here help me carry her," I said, Micah hesitantly picked up her arm and slung it around his neck. He grunted under her light weight. I used the lighter load to take the opportunity to look back. The guy was gone. Good, it was too bad he didn't follow us because Merriam was a master in Krav Maga and could have given him a good ass whooping.

"Holy shit! What happened?" Merriam said as she saw us drag her in.

"Creepy fucking date raper happened," I snarled, "he got away but I can give you a description. Brown hair, tall, attractive, and pale.

Merriam nodded seeming to recognize the description, "he was hanging around the bar the entire night. I'll make sure that everyone at the bar knows his description and makes that he doesn't get within an inch of here again."

Micah made a sound of exhaustion as we dragged her to the back-room and layed her on a couch. I looked at her concerned, she was still awake and breathed a small sigh of thanks before turning into the back of the couch to sleep.

"We should call someone, the police or something so they can hunt that guy down!" I said passionately.

"We can only call the police if she wants us to," Merriam said shaking her head, "you two go home and I'll handle this. Your parents are probably worried about you."

I hesitated at the door, "are you sure?"

"Harley I'll call her folks or someone in her emergency contacts and tell them where she is," Merriam said comforting me, "It's almost one Harley, she'll be fine."

Outside on the sidewalk, I was calling a taxi. I patted Micah on the back, who was retching his insides out into a gutter. There was almost no one else left outside but us. Every once in a while I saw Carlos, the manager, peak his head through the door to check on us. I assumed it was Merriam's doing. I held two complementary water bottle and bag of pretzels in my hands. I ate the pretzels since there was no way in hell Micah could keep them down and I chugged the water trying to avoid eye contact with all the sick on the side of the road.

Finally the taxi picked us up and Micah sat next to me looking pale.

"He's not going to upchuck in here is he?" The taxi driver asked nervously.

"Nah, he's been good for the last ten minutes. He just drank some water,"

"Keep the window open and your head near it," the taxi driver demanded as he drove us home. By the time we pulled up to the house, Micah had talked a little bit on the way and even drank some more water. Even though he was a light weight, I'll admit that his recovery time was remarkable.

We paid the taxi driver, extra for "waiting time" even thought we didn't make him wait. I assumed it was for the sickly puke smell he would have to drive around in for the next week.

It seemed that we had pulled off sneaking out. Since the lights were off inside the house. Micah and I silently high-fived each other. We were walking to the shed when Micah put a hand on my shoulder.

"I need to get something from the kitchen," Micah whispered, "They're definitely asleep, they never stay awake this late. They might even still be on their mission."

"No! That's a horrible idea! We aren't going to get away with this entire night by fucking it up because you were hungry," I whispered back fiercely.

"The lights are off, come on!" Micah walked to the front door and pulled out a key.

"Micah! MI-CAH!" I stage whispered, as he passed through the door I attempted to grab his arm.

We both walked into the house and locked the door carefully, Micah just about turned into the kitchen when I crashed into his back. After steadying myself I saw that the faint light that was always on in the kitchen was slightly bright to accommodate one person Lysander's eyes looked at me and then rested on Micah.

"Damn it!" Micah cursed, realizing we were caught. I braced myself for a can of verbal whoop ass until I realized that there was a panicked expression on Lysander's face.

"Micah listen to me, get to the cellar-"

Before he could finish his sentence, June and a tall, pale haired women walked in. June froze as she opened the kitchen's back door, but the women continued to walk up to me.

"Harley Sivea I assume?" she said eyeing me up and down, "you've caused us quite a bit of trouble. My name is Imogen Herondale, I am the Inquisitor for the Clave."

My eyes widened and unconsciously slid to Micah, who had gone pale. The Inquisitor's eyes followed my gaze and locked with Micah.

"And who might you be?"

End Bit:

By the Angel! This was a long chapter. Now if you've read till this point I'm going to have to beg you to review, favorite and follow shamelessly. I'm not particularly hot on using those as ego boosts but it gives me a sense of how people think the story is progressing. I use Fanfiction as a tool to work my writing muscles and I always love to know how well (or bad) of a job I'm doing.

Thanks for sticking around!

P.S. I was thinking of writing longer chapters from now on, still throwing in short fun ones for mental breaks for both you and I, and was wondering if you enjoy this more than the usual 2,000 chapters. Just for reference this is about 8,000 thousand words long, but I'll probably just stick to about 5,000 words for future chapters.