The buzzer to the apartment woke Magnus up, and he glanced groggily at the clock before he got up to answer. The red numbers on the digital alarmclock insisted that it was 1:00. In the afternoon. But Magnus refused to believe he had slept that long. It was much easier to be annoyed at whoever was waiting downstairs for waking him up then to admit he wasn't exactly on a normal schedule.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MAGNUS THE MAGNIFICENT?" he thundered into the speaker, stifling a yawn. He liked to startle whoever called on him; it was a good impression on clients. Or at least, it tended to weed out the more apprehensive ones.

"Um, Magnus, it's Alec," an apprehensive voice said on the other end of the line. Magnus felt his tiredness dissipating, the hard edge in his voice wearing down to softness.

"Alec," he said. "Do me a favor: look at the door. Do you see the keyhole? It should be there, it was there last night. That key that I gave you goes into the keyhole, and then you turn it, and, miracle of miracles, you can let yourself in."

"I didn't want to startle you, if you were sleeping," Alec said, his voice rippling in the static. "You might have thought I was a burglar or something, and turned me into a... I don't know. An octopus? Can I come up?"

Magnus pressed the button and let him in. He opened his door, and leaned against the frame, waiting for Alec to come upstairs. He smiled when he saw the Shadowhunter. "I would never turn you into an octopus," he said, as Alec crossed the landing to the apartment. He reached up and ran a hand down Alec's arm. "They're too slimy. I might turn you into a chinchilla if you really annoyed me; they're so cute. I could get you a little hat. One with sparkles."

"Does everything have to have sparkles?" Alec asked, his lips twitching into an almost-smile with amusement. He fought back the urge to stare at Magnus, who was wearing very little in way of pajamas: just silver and black silk shorts (who even knew they made silk shorts?), and a silvery tank top that stretched tight across his chest. That was an awful lot of skin left uncovered, and he was doing his best not to look too long.

Magnus grinned, and stepped back into the apartment, letting Alec in. "It's only natural to want to shine," he said. "Speaking of which, you look awfully morose." It wasn't the black clothing; that was normal for Shadowhunters. It was Nephilim style, and all the black made Alec's blue eyes stand out even clearer, so Magnus didn't mind. But there was a slump to Alec's shoulders, and he looked as if he were restraining a frown. He looked down at the floor, avoiding the subject.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he said.

"How-" Magnus stopped, remembering he was wearing only his pajamas, and that his hair was rumpled from sleep. "Ah." He snapped his fingers, and jeans appeared fitted to his body, riding low on his hips and tight on his long legs, his silver tank top switched for a black one. He ran a hand through his hair and decided it was decent enough. "It's fine. One in the afternoon is not exactly the crack of dawn. Although if you ever do feel the need to wake me up so early..." he leaned in to kiss Alec's cheek. "Do it gently," he whispered against his skin.

Alec didn't move as Magnus pulled back from him, and he could see in his eyes that something was wrong. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Are you here for some other reason than to bask in my illustrious company? That and affection, of course," he added as an afterthought.

"No, I..." Alec kept his eyes on the floor. "Jace is missing," he said. There was a short silence. Magnus's eyes narrowed as he looked at Alec's face, Alec still avoiding his gaze.

"I see," Magnus said. "And you thought he might be here? Well, I hate to disappoint you with this knowledge, but I am not a refuge for disgruntled Shadowhunters. I hardly think Jace could afford my fees for staying in this heavenly abode." He swept his hand to encompass the apartment.

"I know. I know he's not here. I just... I didn't come looking for him. I should've, but... I just came to talk to you." Alec wouldn't look up from the floor.

Magnus relaxed a little at the tone of Alec's voice. He sounded lost. Sometimes, Magnus had to remind himself how young the Lightwood was. "He's a Demonhunter, Alec, like you. He probably went out demon hunting and is busy tracking some blue-skinned son of Beelzebub to New Jersey."

Alec shook his head. "He would have called."

Magnus stifled another yawn. It was too early in the morning for such serious discussions. Actually, it was always too early for discussions about Jace. "Never mind it. I'm sure he's fine." He peered at Alec more closely, and frowned. "Alexander, you haven't been eating properly."

Alec finally raised his eyes, startled. "What?"

Magnus pointed one finger and poked him in the chest. "I said, you haven't been eating. Look at you, skin and bones."

Alec looked down at himself. He looked the way he always did. He started to protest, but Magnus waved his words away.

"Not another word until I've taken you out to breakfast - I mean lunch. I do not accept emotional turmoil as an excuse for skipping out on coffee and whatever other form of food you desire. Besides which, there is a great café just down the street. Just let me feed Chairman Meow and we'll go. I won't have you missing out on meals, my little crumpet."

Alec stared after him, dumbfounded, as the warlock went to feed his cat. Crumpet?

A few minutes later, they sat down at an empty table in the café. Alec could see why Magnus liked it; it was decorated in French style, lavished with replicas of famous paintings. One side of the menu was in French, all in curlicue letters.

"They have a bisque that is to die for," Magnus said enthusiastically as they perused the menu.

"That is... soup, right?" Alec asked.

Magnus looked at him pityingly. "Yes. It's soup." He smiled as he leaned back in his chair, looking wistfully up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I miss Paris," he said.

"Why don't you go back?" Alec asked. He couldn't help himself, but his stomach tightened at the thought of Magnus leaving. At the thought of Magnus leaving him; for Paris, for glamor, for the unknown places of his past. For something or someone so much more suited to the High Warlock.

"Oh, I'd hate it now. At least for awhile. I miss my Paris," Magnus said. "I miss my London. You get used to missing things. Nostalgia is an illogical response to living forever."

One day, will you miss me? Will New York be just another place that's changed? Alec didn't ask the questions, but they threatened, on the tip of his tongue.

The waitress came up to their table then. She made no pretense at fitting in with the theme and style of the café. "What can I get for you?" she asked in a New Yorker accent, looking at them in the way all bored New Yorker waitresses looked: like you were just another cup of coffee to make.

"Two coffees," Magnus said. "And a coq au vin for me, and the lobster bisque for him."

Alec didn't protest, but as the waitress walked away he said, "Aren't you supposed to drink wine with that? Not coffee?"

"Yes, well, it seemed rude when you can't drink. At least not here." Magnus grinned. "If we go to France I will introduce you to a world of beverages and their dish counterparts."

"If we go to France?"

"It's not Idris, I know." Magnus spread his arms and shrugged. "But maybe, after all this over and Valentine is gone, it might be nice not to be in the midst of the Clave. I have seen the Clave in the aftermath of war, and frankly it's as much of a mess as the actual and literal battles."

"I keep forgetting he's back," Alec said. "And that Jace is, you know..."

"His son?" Magnus frowned. "Do you think that's why he's missing? He went off to sulk? Bit delayed, don't you think?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I know he's hurting. I mean, finding out that someone like Valentine is your father... it can't be easy for him."

"You forget that I'm half-demon," Magnus said dryly. "I know all about evil fathers."

Alec blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's quite alright."

They lapsed in to silence for a minute, and the quiet was only interrupted by the return of the waitress with the coffees and food.

Alec stirred the soup - bisque - waiting for it to cool, and snuck a glance at Magnus. The warlock had his eyes downcast, looking at his cup of coffee, his long fingers wrapped around the small mug, his dark eyelashes obscuring the fascinating color and shape of his eyes. These past few weeks had been a whirlwind for Alec - less because of the chaos of his Shadowhunter life than because of the strange and wonderful novelty of being in a relationship for the first time. A real relationship. With another man. Alec had grown so used to the idea of being alone, of never being loved. It had seemed so impossible. But with Magnus... it was like the party he had thrown the Friday before, how easily Magnus had forgiven him, comforted him even. That was the feeling that made him stay, that made him come to Magnus when he was feeling so lost and hurt over Jace's absence. He wanted to forget about Jace, and he had never felt that he could forget before.

"Alec," Magnus said quietly, not looking up from his coffee. "You're staring at me again."

Alec blushed again. He did that a lot around Magnus. "Sorry." He took a hasty spoonful of soup that burned the roof of his mouth and nearly choked on it.

"I don't blame you, of course," Magnus said, with a flash of a grin. He took a sip of his drink, then set it down and started in on his own food. "My breathtaking looks have halted wars."

"I'm sure," Alec murmured, taking another slower taste of the bisque. It was actually quite good.

"Well, I can never be sure if it was my stunning personal appearance or the threats about disembowelment that made them reconsider, but I prefer to think it was the former."

Alec smiled slightly, but didn't reply. Magnus had been right that he'd been missing a few meals, and the warmth of the soup settled pleasantly in his stomach. Magnus's leg bumped against his under the table, his foot rubbing against Alec's ankle. A strong sense of contentment washed over him, followed fast by an equally strong fear that he could want something so much. But he did; he wanted the feeling that ran through his blood when Magnus touched him, wanted the easy trust in his eyes, wanted his attention, wanted his kisses, wanted the kind of boyfriend who forgave him for being an idiot sometimes, the kind of boyfriend who tried to cheer him up, who made him eat soup when he wasn't taking care of himself. That was everything he'd ever needed in his life, and he was so afraid of losing it.

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence, but when they had both finished, Magnus leaned over the table, his chest pressed against the side of the wood as he bent closer to talk softly. "I know you're worried about Jace, but don't be - he'll come home. In the meantime, why don't you spend the day with me? I'll even come patrolling with you tonight, if you want. We can go through Central Park looking for demons. Just you and me and escapees from the fires of Hell. Very romantic."

Alec laughed. "Wonderful, but there hasn't been any rogue activity in the park for ages. Mostly just faeries and tourists."

Magnus's eyes were dancing as he looked at Alec. "Well, if we don't find anything for you to hunt..." he leaned closer, and his purring voice was barely audible above the bustling sounds of the café. "All the more romantic time for you and me."