Thanks go to amaggiepie and sunshiiine23 for their beta work on this chapter. I love you ladies.
Warnings: Mature themes including perceived incest, explicit sexual content, and strong language. Immature themes including excessive dash usage and copious amounts of unapologetic relationship angst. Proceed with caution.
Context: This story is set after a City of Glass in which Clary and Jace do NOT figure out that they aren't really brother and sister. They never got the Book of the White to Magnus, so Jocelyn is still comatose. (This ignores City of Fallen Angels entirely.)
Keep the Next Breath
PART SEVEN
Clary leaves Hayden's viewing feeling hollow. The ground seems unsteady beneath her feet, and she stares down at them to make sure that they're actually carrying her forward. Her mind is still back at the house that was packed wall-to-wall with bodies, hushed voices, and everything people weren't saying. She doesn't notice Alec walking beside her until he says her name.
"I didn't find much," she admits. "The sensor didn't pick up any demonic readings, not even in the bedroom." Clary still feels awful that she lied to Hayden's father about needing to go up there to get some art supplies she had let Hayden borrow. The look on his face when he nodded slowly and muttered 'second door on the right…'
"It was a long shot anyway." Alec shakes his head. "The demon probably hasn't been there in over a week. But you said you didn't find much, so there's something?"
Clary sighs and reluctantly fishes out from her pocket the only thing of note she found in Hayden's room. Alec takes it from her carefully as if to make sure he doesn't accidentally touch her. He inspects her find as they wait at a busy intersection. It's easier for Clary to watch the cars slowly rolling by than it is to look at him.
Beside her, Alec starts in surprise. "This is…"
"A lock of my hair."
Of course, neither of them knows exactly what it means, but it's no stretch of the imagination to consider it ominous. It certainly isn't comforting.
"What about you? Anything outside?"
Alec hands her back the lock of hair, looking a little unnerved. His hands retreat to his pockets. "Nothing."
"You didn't have to wait for me," Clary says as they cross the street. It had taken half-an-hour of loitering amongst the guests for her to find the courage to ask Hayden's dad to go upstairs. And when she came back down, she was accosted by some old schoolmates, who asked how her mom was doing and what she had been up to. Alec must have waited for close to an hour outside.
He shrugs and quickly averts his eyes. "You might have found something we needed to follow up on right away."
Clary regards him doubtfully. "Jace asked you to watch me, didn't he?"
His gaze snaps back to her, and he looks oddly relieved. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, he did."
Clary shakes her head. She told Jace that morning that she didn't want him to accompany her to the viewing. She knew he would be a distraction, and it would have felt wrong to bring him along when he hadn't even liked Hayden (the fact that they had never actually met didn't seem to matter). Of course, that didn't go over well with Jace, who thought it was too dangerous for her to return to the scene of the crime alone. But Clary insisted that it was also a personal visit, one she wanted to make alone. In the end, Jace left the room in a passive-aggressive huff, and Alec volunteered to come along and take a look around the outside of the house, which Clary wouldn't have been able to do inconspicuously.
Clary hadn't expected him to stick around after he was done.
"He's just worried," Alec said. "Obviously someone's taken an interest in you. And from what we have to go off of, that demon could be anybody."
Clary considers the lock of hair in her pocket and supposes that she can't say anything against his concern. Still, Jace knows she can take care of herself in broad daylight.
"Are you hungry?"
"Hm?"
Alec gestures down a side street where Taki's dilapidated storefront is prominent in between two classier, Mundane buildings. "You wanna grab something to eat?"
Clary readily takes advantage of the chance to put off going back to the Institute with their meager—and somewhat unsettling—findings, and soon she and Alec are tucked away in a booth in the back of the Downworlder restaurant. They're seated close to the kitchen, so every time the door swings open, the sounds of pots, pans, and fryers pour out along with clipped words in a foreign language.
The noise is a nice distraction from the awkward silence that settles over Clary and Alec as they wait for a server to take their order. Clary can count on one hand the number of times she's ever been alone with Alec for more than five minutes. They get along fine, but she's not Magnus and she's not Jace, so she doesn't always register on Alec's radar. She's a little surprised that he asked her to lunch in the first place. From the intense way he's staring at the tabletop, she assumes there's something important he wants to say to her, which is even more surprising.
The last (and first) personal conversation they had together ended with her being shoved into a wall and him threatening to kill her. They were beyond that mistrust now, but Clary still felt wary about how solemn he looked sitting across from her.
A waitress appeared to jot down what they wanted—Alec only ordered a water—and as soon as she was gone again, his attention shifted to Clary. "Magnus asked me to move in with him."
She blinked. "That's…did you say 'yes'?"
"No," he admits, as if it's painful.
"Oh." Clary can't help sounding surprised. "Too soon?"
"Maybe," he mutters and looks away again. He gives a self-conscious tug at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt. "But it's also…I think I might have feelings for someone else."
Clary's mind skips back to the conversation she had with Simon a couple of days —he mentioned overhearing an argument between the warlock and Shadowhunter. She anxiously wonders if it was about Jace. Maybe Alec isn't over his feelings for him after all, and it's just taken him this long to realize it. She's about to ask Alec who he means, but he's speaking again before she gets the chance to open her mouth.
"Why did you break up with Simon?" he asks bluntly. "Was it because he's a vampire?"
She shakes her head and leans back in the booth, forcing herself to relax. "I didn't break up with Simon. He broke up with me."
Alec looks surprised. "I just thought—"
"I think becoming a vampire was part of it. And I think…he realized I didn't love him the way he wanted me to."
Alec frowns. "How do you tell the difference? How do you know when it's the right way?"
"It's just a feeling." She shrugs even though her shoulders are heavy with the words. "Like you could give more of yourself to that person than you could give to anyone else."
She feels the blueness of his eyes then. It's a deep, saturated color that can't hide behind the dark fringe of his hair. I want to paint his eyes, she thinks. She'd like to capture the way they're watching her now in the stark light of the restaurant.
"And you've never felt that way?" he asks.
"No," she lies.
A moment later the food arrives, and Alec drinks his water and looks pensive while Clary eats her fish and chips. He doesn't say anything else on the subject, and she doesn't pry. The silence prompts Clary to finish her meal quickly, and Alec drops some money on the table without giving her a chance to protest. She supposes the Clave is paying either way, and decides not to worry about it as they head toward the door.
They haven't taken two steps outside when a familiar voice calls out their names. Maia is heading toward them from across the street, hands jammed into the pockets of a puffy, down jacket and face partially concealed by the fur-lined hood.
"Hey," she says, nodding at Alec, who returns the greeting.
Clary waves. "Hey, we just finished eating, and we were about to head back to the—"
"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Maia interrupts and then glances apologetically at Alec. "In private."
"Um, sure." Clary's doesn't know what Maia would want to talk about alone, but it probably has something to do with Luke or the pack if she doesn't want Alec sticking around. Not all lines between Shadowhunters and Downworlders have been erased by the new Council in Idris.
Alec's hand brushes Clary's arm and he lets her know he's heading back to the Institute (and not Magnus's) before taking his leave. Once they're alone Clary quickly notices that Maia isn't giving her customary smile. In fact there's something distinctly defensive about the way she's standing with her arms crossed and feet planted firmly apart.
"Is something wrong?" Clary asks tentatively.
"You've got time to go for a walk?"
"Yeah. I guess so…"
Maia turns and begins walking away, leaving Clary to hurry after her.
[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]
The door to the training room flies open, and Jace instinctively takes a defensive position before realizing that it's Clary who's hurrying towards him. She nearly trips over the edge of a mat before falling into his arms, hands clutching the back of his shirt as she buries her face in his chest. Muffled sniffles are her only greeting.
Jace's arms tighten around her. "What's wrong?"
He knows she's just gotten back from Hayden's showing, and he has to remind himself that death is different for Clary than it is for him or any other Shadowhunter. She hasn't grown up with the likelihood of dying young. And while Jace isn't immune to the pain of loss—he still feels Max's absence like a long shadow at midday—it doesn't unravel him, doesn't force him to feel his mortality anymore keenly than he already does. Clary still keeps her mortality locked away somewhere she doesn't have to see it.
"Do you want to talk about Hayden—"
She shakes her head, pulling back far enough so that he can see the wet tracks on her cheeks. "It's not that. It's…" The words die on her trembling lips. Her eyes, which seem greener beneath her the sheen of gathering tears, search his pleadingly. It's a look he's seen before, one that means she wants him to take the hurt away.
"Clary," he says calmly and takes her upturned face between the palms of his hands, "tell me what's wrong. What happened?"
Clary sucks in an unsteady breath, but meets his steady gaze. "Maia." Damps lashes blink, releasing a fresh trail of tears. "She knows."
"Knows what?"
"Knows about us."
Jace's next breath catches in her throat. "What do you mean? How…"
"The other night at Luke's. Someone was there. A member of the pack. He saw us."
It's as if everything falls away but the texture of Clary's hair between his fingers. He can't feel the ground beneath his feet and can't see anything beyond the rapid movement of Clary's lips—swollen from being bitten.
"Right now they're the only ones who know, and Maia said she isn't going to tell Luke or anybody because it isn't her business but that she could never lie to Luke if he asked her straight out. She told the boy not to say anything to anyone, and she doesn't think he will, but they know, Jace. And, Maia, she—" Clary stops abruptly as if her throat has closed up.
Jace draws his fingers up and down her neck. It's several moments before she's able to continue.
"The way she looked at me…like I wasn't the same person as before. Like I'd done something terrible. And I know it's terrible and that there's a reason we have to hide, but she didn't even ask why. She didn't even want to understand."
"Hey." Jace's hands drop to her shoulders, and he shakes her gently until she's looking him in the eyes. "You don't need to explain us to anyone else, alright? We understand and that's all that matters."
"But if people start figuring it out, then it is going to matter," she protests. "They won't let us be together."
"They won't figure it out." He says it with so much assurance that there's no room for disagreement. "We'll be more careful. And if Maia says she won't tell anyone else, then nothing's changed." Clary nods reluctantly but seems just as anxious as when she'd rushed in to the room. He drops a kiss on her forehead in hopes of distracting her. "How did it go at Hayden's? Alec said you found something in his room."
The tension leaves her body all at once and she sags against him with a sigh. "A lock of my hair."
Jace frowns, not liking the implication. "Hair can be used for a lot of things," he says more to himself. "We might have Magnus take a look at it. If it was used in some sort of spell, he should be able to tell us."
"I guess we should go talk to him now," she mumbles into his chest. "But I need to change first,"—she pulls away, nose wrinkled—"and you need a shower."
Jace laughs, but it feels hollow in his chest. He releases Clary with a final squeeze. "I guess I do. You get Isabelle and let Maryse know where we're going. I'll meet you downstairs."
"What about Alec?"
"He headed over there as soon as he got back from Hayden's."
[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]
Clary trades in her black slacks and gray blouse for the most colorful thing in her closet: a violet tunic sweater that she pairs with bright blue leggings. She doesn't feel any more cheerful when she looks in the mirror, but she thinks she might look it. So she pulls on her boots, grabs her coat, and hunts down Isabelle and Maryse, who are cooking in the kitchen. Or Maryse is cooking, and Isabelle is watching from a safe distance away.
Clary tells them about what they found at Hayden's house, and Maryse agrees that it would be good to have Magnus inspect it. Isabelle, eager for any opportunity to go out and do things, quickly discards her apron and asks her mother for a rain check on the lasagna lesson. Maryse just as eagerly grants it.
Five minutes later, Clary, Isabelle and Jace are leaving the Institute.
"You know, maybe the demon or whatever it was didn't use the lock of hair," Isabelle says thoughtfully. "Maybe it belonged to the real Hayden."
"Why would he have a lock of my hair?" Clary asks, glad for the distraction from own thoughts, which can't seem to stray far from her unpleasant encounter with Maia.
"Because he was hopelessly obsessed with you and would hold it every night before going to bed, telling it all of the things he secretly wanted to tell you. How he cared about you, how he thought about you all the time, how he wanted to get into your pants, etcetera." Isabelle shrugs. "It's pretty romantic, actually."
Clary shakes her head at the fantasy. "Actually, it really isn't. It's creepy. I think I'd rather it be used in some demonic rite."
"It's not that creepy," Isabelle scoffs and flips her long whip of a ponytail behind her shoulder. "I dated a ghost once, and the only way we could touch was if I was holding a relic from his past. So I had to carry around this little brass spittoon wherever I went so that we could be together."
"A love story for the ages," Jace muses. "The Ghost, The Shadowhunter, and The Magical Spittoon. It could double as a dramatic commentary on the fatal effects of tobacco usage."
It doesn't take them long to reach the district of old industrial buildings where Magnus lives. They pass through the same scraggly little park Clary crossed the very first night she met the warlock. She feels the same hesitance now that she felt then and wonders at how little has changed. And how everything has changed.
"You doing okay?"
Simon's unexpected appearance at her elbow causes her to jump. "Geeze!"
"Sorry," Simon says without sounding too sincere. "Effective skulking was sort of included in the vampire prize pack. Although it's not usually so successful in the middle of the day."
"I'm just distracted." Clary shakes her head and links her arm through his as they walk. "What are you doing here?"
"Isabelle texted me. She said you were heading over here for a pointless meeting. Sounded like fun."
Clary glances at Jace and Isabelle, who are several paces ahead of them. Neither have turned around or acknowledged Simon's arrival.
Simon, following her train of thought, lowers his voice and says, "I think she's doing that whole "hot and cold" thing girls do."
"Is that a good thing?" Clary asks, amused.
"As long as the hot part doesn't involve her flaying me alive with her whip, I think I can handle it."
Clary has her doubts but doesn't voice them as they've reached the short flight of stairs outside of the renovated warehouse. Just as Isabelle goes to open the door, it swings open from the inside, admitting a willowy, dark-haired woman whose gray eyes alight on the small group in surprise. "Oh, hello. Excuse me."
Clary makes room to let her pass on the steps but follows her progress with her eyes. There's something uncannily familiar about the woman, and Clary would swear they've met before except she can't think of where or when. She watches her walk away until Simon tugs her inside.
The sense of déjà vu lingers as they climb the wobbly staircase to Magnus's apartment. Jace throws open the door without knocking, and Clary, Simon, and Isabelle follow him inside to the sparsely furnished living room. It's empty save for Magnus, Alec and the coffee table between them. They're standing, facing each other with their arms crossed in matching defensive postures. Magnus's cat eyes flicker briefly to the new arrivals. "Go away. We're closed."
As there's nowhere to sit, Jace leans against one of the whitewashed walls. "We come bearing gifts."
Magnus is still watching Alec, who is even paler than usual and staring nervously at Jace. Clary bites the inside of her lip and tries not to overanalyze the look.
"Bran muffins?" Magnus drawls.
"Better." Jace's golden eyes flicker like dancing flames. "The hair of a virgin."
Isabelle makes an indelicate sound that began with a snort and ended with a yeah right. Magnus sighs and finally turns from his boyfriend. "I could get thousands just like it at the Jonas Brothers concert this weekend."
"Yeah, but then you would have to actually go to a Jonas Brothers concert," Simon says.
"True." Magnus shrugs. "But that Joe is a cutie. If they would just give me five minutes alone with his eyebrows and some hot wax…"
Clary steps forward with the lock of hair and hands it to Magnus. "We were hoping you could tell us if it was used for some sort of spell. Or that you could find traces of whoever took it."
"You found this at the house?" Magnus asks and runs his neatly manicured fingers along the familiar red strands.
"Whoever was impersonating Hayden left it behind."
"That was awfully sloppy of them."
"And lucky for us," Jace adds.
"We'll see." Magnus closes his hand in a fist. "Now, everyone be quiet and, Isabelle, stop breathing through your mouth."
Clary steps back as small blue sparks of light begin to snake in and out between Magnus's fingers. There's a tangible hum of magic in the air that raises the hair on her arms. Several tense seconds crawl by, and no one moves until
"Locating spell."
"That's it?" Clary asks, not hiding her disappointment. She's not sure what she hoped for, just something that would be more telling.
Magnus hands her back the lock of hair. "I'm sorry it wasn't used for something more exciting, like a curse meant to leave you diseased and barren for the rest of your life."
"It's more than we knew," Alec offers and clears his throat. It seems he's recovered from his earlier apprehension of their arrival. "The demon wasn't working alone. He would have needed a warlock to do something like that."
"If it even was a demon." Simon says. He raises a hand. "Can I get a chair? All this standing around makes me anxious, and I just ate."
Jace smirks. "Squirrel?"
"Liger, actually." A blue arm chair appears with a snap of Magnus's fingers, and Simon falls into it. He looks thoughtfully at Jace. "You know, I think it might have been a distant cousin of yours. As I was drinking its blood, it made a sarcastic comment about my sexuality and then barrel rolled away with the intention of buying yet another leather jacket. That and you're both so magically blonde."
More seats materialize around the room. Jace shrugs as he takes the one closest to Simon. "Sorry, but I'm afraid perfection doesn't fit in a bottle. I can hardly contain it all myself. You'll have to settle with your current shade of…" He gestures to Simon's hair. "What would you call that? Tree bark brown?"
"Spiced chocolate."
"Don't be ridiculous," Magnus interrupts. "It's clearly a dark chestnut. And if we could get back to business, you should all be happy to know that I've been able to determine one thing our mysterious shape shifter wasn't."
"What?" Clary asks while settling onto a large, velvet cushion by the coffee table.
Magnus's answering smile is curled with a kept secret. "Nothing you were considering in the first place."
Isabelle rolls her eyes. "That's not exactly helpful."
"It's very helpful," Magnus disagrees. "It's better that whatever you're looking for turns out to be something you've taken into account and not a nasty surprise you aren't prepared for."
It's a good point. But the lack of breakthroughs has eaten away at Clary's resolve to be patient. They're not any closer to finding out who killed Hayden or why someone wanted to get close to the New York Shadowhunters. And there's still a conspicuous silence hanging about the city, that's stopped feeling like a reprieve and started feeling more like the calm before a storm. Magnus is right. They can't afford to be caught unawares.
"I think I should go on patrol alone tonight."
Five sets of eyes swivel in Clary's direction. Jace's are the most penetrating. "And why would you think that?"
"Because whoever was pretending to be Hayden was trying to get close to me. Maybe they thought I was a weak link, or maybe they wanted something from me specifically. Either way, they stopped before they got what they came for. If I make myself vulnerable, they might take advantage of the opportunity."
"And then you'll be dead, and that will just solve everything," Jace says petulantly.
"They didn't try to kill me last time."
"That's right. They killed your friend instead. I'm sure their intentions are completely pleasant. They'll hunt you down in a dark alley and then invite you to tea."
Clary's hands clench, her nails digging into the fabric of the cushion. This already feels like an old argument. "This is what I've been training for, Jace. I can handle it."
Jace crosses his arms over his chest. "No you can't. Not alone. Not yet."
"Then when?"
"In six months? Maybe a year?" He shrugs. "Maybe longer. Whenever you're ready. You're not ready now."
"A year?" Clary gapes at him.
"We've all trained for years. Except for you. You're on the fast track, and I'll be damned if it ends with you in an early grave."
"But this might be our only chance," she argues. "That thing is going to come back for us sooner or later, and right now we're just sitting around waiting to see who it's going to turn up as next. We're not getting any closer to figuring this out. We need to take some risks."
"I agree with Clary," Isabelle says. "Sure she's not done with her training, but none of us really are. And she could use some more field experience. We've all had to learn on the job before."
"Thank you, Isabe—"
"This isn't learning on the job." Jace shoots to his feet and stalks the length of the sofa. "This is using her as bait for some thing that's using dark magic and that we don't know the first thing about. If it gets her on her own and decides to kill her, she's done for. That's not field experience. That's suicide."
"I agree with Jace," Alec adds hesitantly.
"Of course you do," Clary snaps.
Alec's eyebrows shoot up. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means,"—she twists around to face him—"you always agree with Jace, and we both know why."
"I don't—"
"You're only agreeing with him because you're in love with him."
"Clary." Jace's voice is low with warning.
Alec's face flushes with color. "I am not in love with Jace."
"Oh, really? Because I've been wondering about that myself lately." Magnus is perched on a stool across the room, his long body reclined against the wall. His relaxed posture belies the sharpness of his tone. "You've been acting strange. Distant. Unresponsive. Like you're thinking about something—someone—else."
Just as quickly as the red colored his cheeks it now drains away, leaving Alec pale and wide-eyed. "That's…"—he shakes his head—"you're wrong."
"You told me today that you have feelings for him." Clary feels dizzy with the realization that she was right. Alec, who's already in a relationship, loves Jace, and she doesn't even have a right to be defensive.
"I never said that!" Alec's gaze darts to Jace, who looks a little abashed.
Magnus sighs. "Alexander…"
"No." Alec keeps shaking his head. "No. That's not it."
Even though her eyes are dry, Clary feels like she might cry. "You told me that you have feelings for—"
"I'm not in love with Jace!" Alec shouts. "I'm in love with you!"
There's a heavy silence in which Clary can't look away from his fixed, blue gaze. He doesn't look away either. She can tell that he wants to take it back, that he's running over the words in his head to be certain they actually escaped. Clary thinks about them too, tries to understand what they mean.
I'm in love with you.
Distantly, she hears Magnus shift in his seat. "This isn't a time for—"
"I mean it," Alec cuts him off with a voice so apologetic there isn't room for doubt. "I have feelings for her. I didn't mean to, and I can't explain how I…"
"But she's a girl." Isabelle is on the edge of her chair, blinking wide, dark eyes at her brother.
"I know," he says, sounding resentful. "It's not exactly something I got a say in. It's just a feeling inside of me. It's the same way I felt about…" Alec trails off, looking at Magnus imploringly. "I'm sorry. I don't know how it happened, but I can't keep pretending it's not there anymore."
Magnus is leaning forward, his mouth parted, his hands clutching at either side of the stool beneath him. He's listening for a punch line that he knows isn't going to come, but he waits for it anyway. His eyes run over Alec, and Clary knows that he's reading him the same way that she reads Jace. Whatever he sees there unnerves him because he suddenly looks away and sinks back against the wall, shaking his head. "This is absurd," he murmurs in disbelief.
Isabelle nods vigorously. "It's like he's possessed."
Alec's body is taught with anxiety. "Isabelle, I just told you—"
Magnus tips his head in her direction. "What did you just say?" he asks quietly.
"I said it like he's possessed. Alec doesn't love Clary. He loves you. We all know it."
As quickly as if it were altered by a snap of his finger, the bewilderment vanishes from Magnus's face. It's replaced by a mask of calm sharp with intent. But it's a barely maintained façade, one that has cracks around his eyes. "How long?" he asks Alec. "How long have you felt this way?"
Alec sags against the arm of the sofa. "About a week. That's how long I've known for certain. I never really considered it before then." He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. "I'm sorry. I—"
Magnus stands and quickly turns to the window so that all they are left with is his illuminated profile.
"This is a dream. I'm dreaming and I'm going to wake up surrounded by my Last Airbender sheets and my M*A*S*H posters."
Simon's words drift over Clary as she continues to watch Alec, who hasn't looked at her since he began his explanation. She feels light and heavy all at once, like a tethered kite caught in a weak wind. She can't bring herself to believe that Alec's in love with her, and yet she believes him.
"Did you ever find out what that stone demon was?" Magnus asks. "The one that attacked you on Sunday?"
"No," Isabelle answers with a frown. "Why?"
"You said it hit Alec," Magnus continues, "with a bright light. But that he wasn't hurt."
"He fell on Clary. That was it. And Jace dusted the baddie."
"It didn't disappear like other demons?"
"No," Jace answers before Isabelle can. It's the first time he's spoken since Alec made his unexpected declaration. His expression is indecipherable even to Clary. "It crumbled into dust."
Magnus finally turns back to the room and his curious spectators. "Alec, what was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes?"
"I don't know," Alec sighs, looking frustrated with the left turn the conversation has taken. "Clary, I guess. Listen, can we talk alone? I want to…"
Magnus's face darkens. He walks from the window and reclaims his seat. A snap of his fingers later and a large, leather-bound book appears in his hand. He begins thumbing through the thin pages.
Clary finally finds her voice. "What is it?"
"If I were someone who put much stock in material possessions, I would bet everything I own that Alec has been possessed."
"Possessed?" Alec asks doubtfully.
"Yes," Magnus answers without looking up from the book. "By a love daemon."
AN: Just when you were starting to get comfortable! lol.
To the people who reviewed last chapter: the link that I promised you is posted in my profile (I just added it, so it might take a couple hours to show up). Remember, the password was included in the review reply I sent you. IF YOU LEFT AN ANONYMOUS REVIEW OR IF YOU HAD PRIVATE MESSAGING DISABLED, I obviously couldn't send you the password to the outtakes. So if you want it, you need to get into contact with me. If you don't have a FFnet account, now would be a great opportunity to get one. Then drop me a PM letting me know that you reviewed.