Here I am, back with more MI shots.

Quite frankly, I'm a bit peeved at the moment. Both of these chapters have just been retelling of scenes just from a different character's POV and that isn't helping me get into their mindset very much. :(

Oh well. I've got more to type. Hopefully something good will come up.

Either way...

Moving right along. The song I used this time is Kiss The Girl. Classic yes, but however it was the Disney Mania version. -_- I don't really mind this version, but...heuh. Disney Channel isn't something I watch anymore...

Flames are welcome

Disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of The Mortal Instruments. This was made purely for fans by a fan. It is in no way sponsored, approved, endorsed by, or affiliated by Cassandra Clare or McElderry Books, or any other affiliates.

Character(s): Clary and Jace

Setting: City of Bones in the greenhouse

Song: Kiss The Girl (Disney Mania Version)...ugh I'm getting a lot of crappy songs...

Word Length: 1,268

Kiss The Girl

The knife cut through the apple smoothly as if it were hot butter. Jace handed the slice to Clary. "It's not birthday cake, but hopefully it's better than nothing."

"Nothing was what I was expecting," Clary said as she took a bite. "So thanks."

"Nobody should get nothing for their birthday," Jace commented as she peeled the second apple.

They talked about things after that; past birthdays, when Jace moved into the Institute, even about their deceased fathers. But Jace was only half listening. For some reason, his gaze kept on returning to Clary's lips. They were shiny from the sticky juice of the apple. She then licked them clean and Jace couldn't help but think about what would happen if he did that for her. He stomped on the thought as if it were nothing more than a petty Ravener demon.

He wondered if she would let him.

Of course, like every annoying thought, it kept coming back.

Suddenly, somewhere, a bell tolled. "Midnight," Jace said as he set the knife on the floor. He stood and pulled Clary along with him. "Now watch."

In his peripheral vision, he could see the slight crease between Clary's brows as she looked around confused. His hand twitched to smooth it out, but he clenched it. She opened her mouth to say something—probably to ask a million questions about what was happening—but he held up his hand to silence her, the one that wasn't clenched tightly at his side. He looked down at her and grinned. "Wait."

There was nothing. And then suddenly a small bulb from the green bush they were sitting beside burst open and with it a large flower twice its size and dusted with pale gold powder.

It was a special flower that bloomed only at midnight and lasted for about a minute before they began to wilt. They weren't very functional—hardly the best flower to put in a bouquet—but when they bloomed they bloomed fast, certainly a sight to behold. And the way that Clary's face lit up in surprise made Jace wish that the flowers would last forever, never dying, always lighting up a room with their soft beauty. "Happy birthday, Clarissa Fray."

Clary turned to him, eyes still wide and glittering. "Thank you."

Jace's throat tightened and he looked away, fiddling with something in his pocket. "I have something for you," he muttered pulling the object out of his pocket and pressing it into her hand. "It's a witchlight rune-stone," he said to her as she turned the stone over in her hands. "It will bring you light even among the darkest shadows of this world and others."

She slipped the stone in her pocket. "Well, thanks. It was nice of you to give me anything."

There was a silence that followed after punctuated by a heavy tension that was beginning to make Jace a bit agitated. His eyes kept on flickering back to her lips. He wanted to kiss her—he did, but how would she react? Would she respond or push him away? Jace didn't think he could really take being shot down too well. Not because he was stunningly attractive and anyone would be crazy to do so, but because her rejection would truly hurt. She was the only one he didn't want to play a game with. Besides, what would happen in the morning? Would they flow together like they do so already? Or would it be awkward? A mistake? And what about him? He had always thought that to love was to destroy and that to be loved was to be destroyed. He would be going against everything he believed in with such a gesture.

What Clary said next was enough to put a stop to all the nail-biting questions going through his head. Actually, it was enough to toss out ever coherent thought he had right out the window. "Have you and Isabelle ever dated?"

Jace looked over at her. "Isabelle?" he repeated.

Clary's eyes widened a fraction. "I thought—Simon was wondering." She let her voice trail off.

Hmph. The mundie. Of course. "Maybe he should ask her."

"I'm not sure he wants too. Anyway, never mind it's none of my business."

Jace grinned at her. "The answer is no. I mean, there may have been a time when one or the other of us considered it, but she's almost a sister to me. It would be strange."

"You mean Isabelle and you never—"

"Never."

There was a hiatus. "She hates me."

"No, she doesn't," Jace said. "You just make her nervous because she's always been the only girl in a crowd of adoring boys, and now she isn't anymore."

"But," Clary stammered, "she's so beautiful."

"So are you," said Jace, nearly surprising himself with the declaration. Sure, the thought had turned up several times, but to actually say it out loud—

Clary was staring at him with a look of surprise and he frowned slightly. So she was one of those girls who never thought that they were pretty. Even though she had no idea of the thoughts that ran laps through his head every time he saw her. It almost angered him that Clary sold herself short than what she was worth. His jaw clenched a bit. "We should probably go downstairs," he said to her, before he started an argument.

"Alright," she said. Jace's jaw unclenched and the tension left him as she turned around. She took a step and he followed when she suddenly jerked back and bumped into him. He held out a hand to steady her.

The contact sent a fire burning through is veins, all throughout his system. Just as she turned around he made a snap decision. His lips pressed against hers.

It was tense at first. His mouth was hard and the muscles under his arms were bunched together, ready to push her away at a moment's notice. That was his fault, however. Doubt and slight fear clouded his head until he became hyperaware of the fact that he was kissing Clary. And then he pushed down those thoughts. His mouth softened and his arms relaxed. He even pulled her into the circle of his embrace, pressing her softly against him. He felt her hands move up his neck and her fingers thread themselves through his hair. The sensation was new and sent tiny jolts of pleasure and excitement throughout his system. Every cell in his being was alive and buzzing from the sheer feeling of her lips on his.

But he was forced to pull away when he heard the sound of wings flapping past them, the tell-tale sign of Hugo, most likely followed by Hodge. How disappointing. He was rather enjoying himself. "Don't panic," he whispered, "but we've got an audience."

Clary turned her head and noticed the big, black bird perched on a tree branch. Jace observed the way she seemed to frown slightly and her arms sag a bit. Perhaps she was disappointed as well? He smirked, a sense of very manly pride filling him.

"If he's here, Hodge won't be too far behind," he continued. "We should go." His arms slipped away from her small frame. He wanted to kiss her again, but Hugo flapped his wings again and Jace was annoyingly reminded of the certain danger they would face if they stayed. So he, followed by Clary, descended the stairs and disappeared into the darkened corridors of the Institute, but a certain invisible light resonating from them both was more than enough to lead the way.

And then the whole thing with Simon goes down. I love how I wrote it so sweetly with a sweet ending with the knowledge that right after this scene in the book...well, yeah. Heh heh. Go read the damn thing if you're that curious.

When I was typing the part with Clary asking Jace if he and Isabelle ever dated, I was thinking 'Oh ho ho, Jacey you do not know just how ironic those words are right there!'

So I haven't started the next one yet though.

If you have the time, please take a moment to review. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

Blessings!

Miss Saigon11

...

Has anyone ever noticed how Hot Pockets aren't really seamed well? I take a bite and the sides split and I'm afraid I'm gonna burn my fingers on the sauce or that it's gonna drip out and onto my clothes...