Hi! This chapter is on the more serene side, but I hope you like it anyway!

Chapter 3

"I mean… they had glowing plants!" Clary exclaimed. "Under the shashi or whatever they called it. Don't turn the heat down."

Isabelle, spatula in hand, turned the heat back up on the stove top. Isabelle was attempting to cook eggs, and Clary was directing her from her perch on the counter.

"I mean…" Clary frowned, trying to explain last night's meal to Isabelle. "It was so… weird."

"What's shashi?" Isabelle asked, looking over at her.

Clary pointed back at the stove, and Isabelle looked back at the eggs. "It's like… It's raw fish fillets- sort of."

Isabelle scrunched up her nose. "Ew!"

Clary shrugged. "It was okay." Her eyes widened as she suddenly realized she'd misremembered the name. "Sashimi! It was called sashimi!"

Isabelle looked over at her again.

Clary peered at the stove around Isabelle's short, red night gown. "I think that needs to be flipped."

Isabelle looked back at the two eggs in the pan, yokes broken and spilled over the whites. "... Are you sure? It looks a little raw on this side."

Clary smacked her forehead. "Isabelle, it's currently cooking the other side."

Isabelle's eyes widened. "Oh!" She shoved the spatula under the eggs, and lifted them from the pan, then the flipped it over and the eggs smacked down back into the pan, splattering a little and landing partially on the side of the pan.

Clary rolled her eyes. Isabelle had always been a terrible cook; why she'd agreed to let her cook breakfast was beyond her.

"Also, you eat it with sticks," Clary continued her story of last night's interesting experiences.

Isabelle frowned, but this time, kept her attention on the eggs. "Sticks?"

"They're called chopsticks," said Maryse, walking into the kitchen in a long, blue, satin nightgown.

Isabelle looked to her right and waved at her mother with the spatula. "Morning!"

Maryse looked from Isabelle, to the spatula, to the pan. "Are you making eggs?"

"Yep!" Isabelle looked back at the pan and poked at the egg with the spatula.

"... Did you butter the pan?" Clary asked.

Isabelle nodded. "A little, yes."

Maryse walked passed Isabelle and Clary to get to the other side of the kitchen; where the coffee maker was located.

Clary sighed, hopping off the counter and walking over to the fridge. She opened it, and scanned it for the orange juice.

"What was it like meeting Valentine Morgenstern?" Isabelle asked.

Clary cringed. "He's… Unsettling."

"How so?" Asked Maryse, inserting a capsule into the coffee machine, and setting a mug beneath it.

Clary pulled the orange juice out of the fridge, and set it on the counter next to the fridge. "I don't know," Clary admitted. "He was just kinda creepy; like he had a skeleton in his closet or something."

Maryse scoffed, but it was humorless.

Clary looked at her, but her face was stoic as the coffee began to fill her mug.

Clary walked up next to her, and opened the cabinet to get a glass.

"Ah!" Isabelle shrieked.

Clary set the glass on the counter next to the juice, and quickly headed over to where the eggs were smoking on the stove. Clary shut off the heat, and turned on the vent over the stove. "Jesus, Isabelle."

Isabelle shrugged. "What? I did everything you said!"

"How much butter did you put on?" Clary asked, looking at the gross-looking eggs that had become one glob.

"About a pinch?"

Clary sighed. She walked back to where the orange juice was waiting for her on the counter, and poured a glass. "No more cooking for you."

Isabelle looked defeated, and set the spatula on the pan.

"How was the rest of his family?" Maryse asked, changing the subject back. She was pouring cream into her coffee now, and adding a sugar cube.

"His mother was terrifying," Clary went on, adjusting her tank top strap as she thought of Camille's icy green eyes. "And I think she knew my mom."

Maryse, who had just taken a sip of her coffee, choked on it and began coughing.

"You okay?" Clary question.

Maryse cleared her throat and nodded. "Continue."

"And they had four children all together. Sebastian, Alec, Jonathan, and…" Clary wrinkled her nose in distaste when she said his name. "Jace."

Isabelle leaned against the counter, listening intently. "You sound like you don't like him."

Clary scoffed. "That's an understatement. You know what he said after he got to dinner late? He asked Alec of I was a prostitute."

At this, Maryse spewed her coffee back into her mug, and Isabelle started laughing. Clary glared at her, and she stopped.

"Then, he insulted me in about every way possible," Clary went on. "He was one of the most self-centered and inconsiderate people I've ever had the misfortune to encounter." she stated. Just thinking about Jace Morgenstern got her wound up.

"You didn't… do anything rash, did you?" Maryse asked carefully.

"I wouldn't say 'rash'," Clary shrugged, and began fiddling with her left braid.

Maryse's hand went to her face. "What did you say, Clarissa?"

"I called him on his bullshit." Clary replied, noting the look of keen interest on Isabelle's face..

After receiving a stern look from Maryse she continued.

"I told him that I at least had the decency to show up on time and sober, and to not call my brother's date a whore," Clary shrugged. "Not too bad."

Maryse peeked at her between her fingers. "You didn't say 'whore' did you?"

Clary pressed her lips together. "I said it quietly?"

Maryse sighed, and Isabelle giggled.

"Hey, we should go to the store today," Isabelle said, changing the topic.

"Yes," said Maryse, removing her hand from her face and planting it on her hip. "Please do."

"Okay," said Isabelle. "I'm going to get ready. Clary, you coming?"

Clary shrugged. "Sure." It would be good to get a distraction from all the complications currently flooding her life.

Clary picked a jug of milk from the shelf and whistled. "Have you seen the taxes on this?" She asked quietly, mostly out of caution. "They're ridiculous."

Isabelle took the jug out of her hands and looked at it. "Huh."

Clary knew Isabelle didn't really care about taxes; she was playing a back and forth glancing game with a boy, and it was apparently his turn. He was staring at her, a crooked grin across his face, as he looked from Isabelle's platform converse heels, to her purple stockings, to her leather skirt, and to her fashionable white blouse.

Clary rolled her eyes as Isabelle put the jug into the cart and glanced back at the boy.

Clary looked at the grocery list. "Next on the list is coffee capsules."

"Right," said Isabelle. "Could I have a second?"

Clary groaned and rolled her eyes. "Go ahead."

Isabelle walked coolly over to the boy and Clary waited patiently at the cart.

"Clary?" Said a familiar voice from behind Clary. "Clary Fray?"

Clary turned and her eyes widened. "Simon, hi!"

Simon Lewis was Clary's ex-boyfriend. They'd dated when they were fifteen- though he looked very different.

While in high school, Simon had been gangly, his hair was cropped short, and he wore glasses. He now had a bit of muscle beneath his shirt, and his hair had grown over his forehead, and he must have been wearing contacts, because his glasses were nowhere to be seen.

"You look great," he said, looking at Clary's new boots before trailing his eyes up to the hem of her short dress.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Clary grinned back.

Simon smiled nervously, putting his hands into his pockets. "So… Do you want to go out for coffee? We could catch up."

"Um…" Clary pressed her lips together. Was he asking her out on a date? "I can't, sorry. I'm seeing someone else."

Simon looked disappointed. "Oh."

"She's dating Alexander Morgenstern," said Isabelle, waltzing over with a look of pride on her face. She'd probably gotten that guy's number.

Simon looked over at her, eyes wide. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," Isabelle tossed her long, dark hair out of her face.

Clary sunk down into her shoulders and blushed. Isabelle just couldn't help herself, could she?

Simon looked over at Clary, eyebrows raised. "Wait, is she serious?"

"Well…" Clary ran her fingers through her hair. "I guess we are technically dating…" Clary hadn't really thought about it like that before.

"They've got a fourth date this Saturday," Isabelle boasted.

"Isabelle, can you not…"

"Sorry," Isabelle turned to Simon. "Well, it was nice to see you again. Bye," she said dismissively, they began pushing the cart away.

"It was nice to see you again." said Clary.

"Yeah, you too," said Simon. "Bye."

Clary jogged over to where Isabelle was, waiting for her. "Done flirting?"

"I wasn't flirting," said Clary, walking up beside Isabelle.

"Hey, I have a question: Since Alec is the second oldest, aren't you going to be expected to have a baby on the sooner side?"

Clary stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide. "What?"

Isabelle kept going, she didn't seem to notice she'd stopped. Isabelle shrugged. "Since Jonathan and his wife haven't had a baby yet."

Why had this not occurred to Clary? If she'd married Alec, was she going to have to sleep with him? She blushed scarlet. Clary was a virgin, and she had no interest in changing that. How was that going to work?

"So I'm going to have to sleep with him?" Clary exclaimed, baffled.

"Clary," Maryse said, tone calm, and reasoning. "If you're married to someone, than that's to be expected."

Clary blushed intensely, putting her face in her hands. Why had she not thought of this over the past few weeks?

Maryse put her hand on Clary's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Clary."

Clary was actually scared, gnawing on her bottom lip until it was raw. She hoped that maybe she'd fall in love with Alec before they got married, and it wouldn't be an issue. She'd heard people in love wanted to have sex.

"Oh my god," she whispered. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Thanks to my amazing beta, AnnaW14!

So, did you like the chapter? Next one is coming as soon as possible!

I'll see you in the PMs and reviews!

-Jade