Um, hi guys. :3 Here's the next chapter. Um, yeah, I'm sleepy, so…I'll just thank maxwaylandgrey for being there all the time, no matter what, and for being Max Horan now. :DD Bitch, we be the best people evuh. Camille Styles and Max Horan, ftw! ;DD Anyways, thanks to SportyNo1 for being such a sweetheart. :3 And thank you to everyone who reviews. Love you all. xx

Review? :)

"Are you sure?" Isabelle asked, mouth hanging open. She was still on the phone. Clary knew there was something wrong, but she didn't have the guts to ask. It was something within the family, and she wouldn't interfere with their business. After all, she had spent most of the time since she got to California trying to make herself not care for Jace—and for him, and for everything that had happened in the place years before. But she couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Was Jace okay? What if he wasn't?

"Fine," said Isabelle. "I'll be there in two hours. You better explain this." She hung up the phone and then looked at Clary. "What?"

"Nothing," Clary said, shaking her head. She hadn't known she was staring.

"You want to know what's going on." Isabelle sighed and sat on the edge of Clary's bed. "Is Max around?"

"No, he's downstairs," Clary replied. Truthfully, she didn't know. She didn't care if he was around, because she cared too much about Jace—more than she'd ever admit—and she needed to know what was going on.

"Okay." Isabelle took a deep breath. "I'm not telling you what's going on. But," she added, "I will tell you this: don't get too close to Jace."

"I don't want to."

"But," Isabelle said, "you will. I know him, and I know you, and I know you like him more than you'd ever admit."

Damn it, Clary thought.

"So what if I do?" She paced around her room. "It doesn't make any difference."

"The boy would die for you."

"He would not," Clary argued.

"He wouldn't, true, but he wants you."

"In his bed."

"Yeah," Isabelle said. "But that's the only way he's capable of wanting anyone."

"That's what he wants you to believe," Clary said. "I know people like him. And is it weird that I feel like I know him?"

"Yes." Isabelle didn't hesitate. Clary knew she thought it was weird.

"Well, then, I'll just say I know people like him. I know what he wants you to believe. And I've seen the real Jace—or a glimpse of it. And let me tell you, I regret pushing him away sometimes." Clary sighed. "I just do."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Your brother is not a total dickhead."

"And?" Isabelle said, confused.

"And it hurts him sometimes that it's all you expect him to be."

"How would you know?" Isabelle asked, daring Clary to come up with a good enough excuse.

She smiled and said, "Because I've been there."

"I have to go." Isabelle stood up quickly. "Where's Max?"

"Kitchen." Clary wouldn't meet Isabelle's stare. "Bye."

"Clary?" Isabelle said, voice small. "Call me Izzy."

Clary smiled. "Bye, Izzy."

"You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"I don't know," Isabelle said with a shrug. Then, she turned around and exited Clary's room, leaving her confused and with a million questions.

They were all about Jace. Was she right? Wrong? What would she do?

She fell asleep in her bed, her daily clothing still on. She didn't care if someone walked in on her. She just wanted to forget about the men in her life . . . and about everything else.

###

"What do we do now?" Isabelle asked her mother, sighing. Jace stood behind the slightly ajar door, hoping the two people inside that room didn't catch him. He knew that these words would never be repeated in front of him. He had to take a chance and listen to what their actual thoughts were.

"I don't know." Maryse took a swig of the glass of tequila she'd poured herself. "All I know is that I won't let them take my son away."

My son. The words echoed through Jace's mind. He didn't realize that the Lightwoods cared so much about him. He just figured it was part of keeping him, but it wasn't. He didn't know if he should be grateful for it or if he should leave already, save them the pain.

You can't leave, he told himself. If you leave, you don't see Clary again. He sighed, knowing that the voice in his head was right. He couldn't leave his siblings or Clary. He hated the connection there was between them, but he wouldn't push her away. He needed her to be there for him. She was a challenge, and Jace Wayland loved challenges.

". . . else did they say?" Isabelle's voice brought Jace back to the present, to the conversation his mom and sister were having.

"They said that the man was powerful," Maryse said. "That he had a reason."

"But it was an old lady who visited, right?"

"Yes, in behalf of a man. Or so they said later on, anyway," said Maryse, who sounded horrified at the thought of losing Jace. He imagined she was. After all, she raised him, basically. If it wasn't for her, Jace would be dead, or somewhere less pleasant, without Max or Alec or Isabelle. As unpleasant as his sister might be, he couldn't imagine life without her. She was a routine in his life, somebody to mess with when nobody was available, somebody to turn to when he needed help.

"Did they say how the man planned on taking Jace away?" Isabelle asked.

"He said he had . . . something. Evidence of some sort. But they're not related. He just . . . knew Jace's parents, I'm guessing." Maryse drunk more of her tequila, which Isabelle took gently from her mother's hands.

"Mom," Isabelle said to her, voice gentle. "Nothing bad will happen. Jace won't leave us. I promise."

"You don't know that, Izzy," her mother whispered. Jace felt something in his chest constrict. How would he be able to deal with this? He wouldn't be able to take the sight of his mother trying not to cry while he drove away on some stranger's car, but it seemed like there was a fat chance of him staying.

"We'll find a way," Isabelle assured her mother, but Jace knew she was as lost as the rest of them were.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. It'll help me clear my mind," Maryse said, and Jace cursed inwardly, moving gracefully toward the stairs and hoping she wouldn't catch him eavesdropping.

Jace made it upstairs seconds before Maryse ascended the same stairs. He pretended he was going downstairs then, since he hadn't gotten the food he wanted at the beginning.

"Jace," Maryse said, as if she'd expected him to disappear. "Where are you going?"

"Kitchen," he said. "Why?"

"If you go out, be careful, okay?" Maryse said. She was never the type to be protective. She knew her children could fend for themselves, but Jace knew she was all too worried about the newest problem. He nodded and said nothing. He didn't want to say something he'd regret later on.

He started walking toward the kitchen, but Maryse's voice stopped him. "If you're gonna go out, tell someone in the family."

Suddenly, it all felt like too much to him. His freedom just vanished, all because some bitch and some jackass wanted to take him away from his family. He balled his hands into fists and said, "I'm gonna go for a walk, actually. I'll be back in about two hours. Don't wait up," he added, and then went to the fridge got a water bottle, and ran outside. It was raining, almost pouring, but Jace didn't mind. He went around the house until he was in the back, which was the side of the beach. He ran on the sand, which sometimes got in his shoe, annoying the hell out of him. But it didn't matter, because he knew where he wanted to be, even though he didn't know how to explain it to the person.

Clary's house was in front of him about fifteen minutes later. He knocked hard on the door until someone, which turned out to be her mother, opened the door.

"Hi," he said, feeling the water dripping all over.

"I'll get you a towel and Clary." Jocelyn hurried off into the house, closing the door on his face, probably to keep the water from getting in the house. Jace waited outside, tapping his fingers on his sides absentmindedly, until the door opened. There, in her pajamas, was Clary, her curly red hair messy, her eyes looking tired. She held a towel in one hand. Her eyes widened as she saw who it was. Wordlessly, she handed him the towel.

"Hi," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"It's complicated," he said with a smirk. He dried his hair and exposed skin, then wrapped the towel around him and followed Clary inside.

"Take your shoes off," she blurted out, looking mortified afterward.

"Sure," Jace said, taking them off and leaving them outside. He was walking barefoot now, examining the house with more care. He'd been there before, but he didn't notice the little things, like the chipped painting in the ceiling, though it was very, very unnoticeable for other people. He doubted Clary would want to know he noticed, so he followed her up the stairs and into her room.

"Take a warm shower," she said. "I'll bring you a towel and some dry clothes."

He nodded, loving the idea of taking a shower in Clary's bathroom. If only she was in the shower with me.

"Don't even think about it," she said, clearly reading the look on his face. He chuckled as he watched her go, ignoring the empty feeling, the disappointment of not having her there in a shower with him.

Jace stepped inside the bathroom. It was all white, except for the green and purple curtain, and the band posters on the walls. He smiled. She had the posters even in her bathroom. He peeled his wet clothing off, leaving it in the corner, and stepped inside. He was greeted by warm water. Every inch of his body relaxed, and then he started thinking about Clary. She was coming in a few seconds. If only he could get her to join in—

"Jace?" Clary's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm going in, okay?"

"Sure," Jace said, biting back a smile. He heard the door open, and then footsteps.

"Reach out for the towel," Clary said.

"Okay." Jace peeked through the curtain and saw her standing there and he knew, just then, that he had to get her to join the shower. When she shot her hand out, he grabbed her arms instead, and pulled her close. He was surprised by her lack of fight.

"Join me," he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes were closed, but even he knew what she was thinking. It's just one summer.

"Sure. But," she said, "wear your underwear." She grabbed his wet underwear and chucked it at him, and he turned around and slipped it on. He turned around and, much to his surprise, she was still standing there.

"I'm going with all of my clothes on," she said.

"That's fine by me." He grinned and reached out for her. Tentatively, she took his hand and went in with him, her clothing immediately soaked, her t-shirt and short shorts clinging to her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Why'd you want me to join?" They were pressed against each other, close enough to hear their heartbeats. If he wanted to, he could kiss her. He could have her.

But he didn't.

"Because I want to get to know you," Jace said stupidly.

"In a shower?" She raised her eyebrows. "Somehow, I don't think it's the best place to get acquainted with someone."

"I know." He pulled her closer to him until their bodies were touching. "But you're not just someone."

Her heart pounded wildly against her chest. God, she's beautiful, Jace thought, cupping her face with his hands. He wanted to kiss her so badly.

And he did. He took her in his arms and pinned her against the wall of the shower and kissed her. She tried to fight him off at first, but he was too strong, and she didn't want to resist it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, keeping him there until they were out of breath, panting. Jace couldn't get over how amazing she was, how amazing that was.

"I need to go," she said, and stumbled out of the shower. She took his towel. "I'll, um, bring you a new one."

She bolted out of the bathroom before he could say another word.

###

"You should go back to your house, you know." Clary didn't look at Jace as she spoke, just toyed with an invisible string that hung from her shirt.

"I was wondering if I could stay here," Jace replied tentatively.

"You can't," Clary blurted out.

"Why not?" he asked.

"My mom would . . . she'd freak out," she said finally, trying to decide whether she'd freak out more than her mother or not. They couldn't, under any circumstances, let him stay. If he stayed, they'd get closer. And if they got closer, she'd be forced to get to know him. She knew that if she got to know him, she might like him.

Jace sighed and stood up. "Yeah, I guess I should go."

Clary nodded. It's the right thing to do, she chanted over and over again, leading him toward the door.

"I'll let myself out." He sounded hurt, which Clary supposed he was. She sighed, nodded, and sat back in bed. He stood there, frozen, as if he might say or do something.

That was when she realized, all of a sudden, that she couldn't let him go. Not anymore.

"Jace," she said quickly, before she could stop herself. "Wait."

"Yes, Clary?"

"Would you—would you like to stay?" she offered hesitatingly.

"Sleeping? Here?" His eyebrows rose and her cheeks heated up.

"Yes." She sounded kind of ashamed, but she wouldn't let it show.

"I'd love to."

The next hour, they spent it sneaking around the house and making him a mattress bed. When it was done, both were pretty proud of their work.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Clary asked.

"Sure," Jace said. He took out his phone. "You pick. I've gotta call home."

"Okay," she said and, without questioning him, walked out the door to look for some movies. She stayed outside, though, where he couldn't see her.

"Maryse? Yeah, it's me. I'm staying over at Clary's." He paused. "No, her mother doesn't know. Yes, it's fine. Okay. Bye." He hung up. Clary walked as lightly as she could out of the hallway and into the living room. Jace joined her there after a breathless sprint down the stairs. Even though Clary was wearing a jacket over her tank top, she suddenly felt very naked. He looked wonderful, his blond hair about to cover his wonderful golden eyes. Clary, of course, yearned for his touch. Again, she couldn't let it show.

"You choose, since you're here, and I'll make the popcorn."

"Sure," Jace said. "Be back with my choices."

Clary walked into the kitchen pantry and took out two bags of popcorn. She loved to eat, and so did Jace. On second thought, she took out an extra bag and placed them one by one on the microwave, waiting for them to heat up and pop before placing the next one. The huge, red bowl of popcorn she always loved was full up to the very top. Satisfied, Clary walked out the door and into the living room.

"Okay, so . . . it's between Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Scream, or Clue."

"Clue," Clary said without hesitation. "It's my favorite old movie."

"Clue it is."

Up the stairs they went, back into her room. She set up the movie and climbed into the bed. Jace was beside her in a matter of seconds, and the movie started. She could barely focus—which never happened, considering this was one of her favorite movies and a classic, at least for her—because of him, of course. She felt him sitting by her side, every movement he made, every breath he took. She wondered if he was as aware of her as she was of him, but then she decided not to worry about it. Even if he was, there was no way they'd end up having a long-term relationship. She was going to school someplace else and so was he, both away from each other and away from their so-called relationship. It was better to remain friends. Yet when his leg touched hers by accident, her skin tingled and the butterflies in her stomach batted their wings wildly, as if trying to break free from a prison. Clary glared at her belly before taking a big chunk of popcorn. She found that she wasn't as hungry at first, but she kept eating anyway.

"I have to pee," Clary said all of a sudden. "Pause it, will you?"

"Sure." Jace shrugged and reached for the remote. He clicked the "Pause" button on it and waited until Clary stood up and left—that was when he started pacing. In the bathroom, Clary was trying hard not to break down into delirious tears or fits of laughter.

Calm down, she told herself, splashing water on her face and taking a few deep breaths. When she was ready to exit the bathroom and face him, she flushed the toilet, pretended to wash her hands, and went outside. He was still lying down in bed, looking cool and collected, unlike her. She was freaking out on the inside when she joined him on the bed.

By the time the movie was over, Jace was whisper-shouting, "No way!" and, "I totally knew that!" Clary smiled at his reaction to it, for it was the same reaction she had all the time to it. She let her head rest on his shoulder, and before she knew it, she was wrapped up in a blanket.

"Goodnight, Clary." Jace kissed the top of her head.

"Night," she mumbled, and she was fast asleep within seconds.

**I don't own TMI**