*All the characters from The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare and her incredible mind. Nothing will ever be owned by the author of this story. ;)*

Musical Preference:

Working For The Weekend- Loverboy

She's Got You High- Mumm-Ra

Enjoy. :]

Chapter Five

"Honey, can you bring me a glass of water?"

Clary looked up from her pile of papers and nodded. Remembering he couldn't see her, he yelled a quick "coming" while she went to the kitchen.

Filling a glass up to the brim with water, she checked the time. 2:12. She smirked and walked towards the study of the house, careful not to let the water fall. As she passed through the threshold, he lifted his head up and smiled. Passing him the glass, he smiled back.

"Thanks, honey," he said and hunched his head back in the papers.

"No problem, dad." She took the glass from him. "Hey, it's Sunday and you're in here working your butt off. Why don't you leave that and go upstairs with mom in her study? You know she loves when you're in there with her," she told him with a smile.

He didn't look convinced. "Clary, I can't stop right now," he said wiping his glasses on his shirt while scowling. Clary looked at him. He looked tired. Usually, his blonde hair speckled with gray looked professional, but right now, they just made him look older than Clary liked to imagine.

Walking over to his side, she pushed his folder closed. "You've been in here since eleven. That can't be healthy. I'm going to be leaving in a few as well. I can't keep grading homework. C'mon." He didn't resist as she pushed him off his chair into a standing position.

"I live around such bossy women," he muttered looking down at Clary with a smile.

"Dad, I feel old when you call me a woman," she replied rolling her eyes. He looked incredulous at her as they ascended the stairs.

"What do you want me to call you? Baby? Teen? Young Adult?" He paused. "Adult?" She pouted and he laughed. "Honey, with that stature you'll always be eternally young."

"Why do you torture me about it, too?" She shook her head as they entered Jocelyn's study. "It's, like, tall people's duty to mess with my height."

"Doesn't help that you are an exception," chimed in Jocelyn looking over a painting, paintbrush in hand. Clary rolled her eyes at her mother.

"Thanks, mom," she muttered as she sat on the small couch of the side of the room. Valentine sat next to her and draped his arm over Clary's shoulders pulling her in like old times. Jocelyn turned to look at them with a smile.

"We haven't had dinner with you in a long time, dear," Jocelyn reprimanded as she turned to painting and painted a dark blue streak over a river.

"There hasn't been much reason for dinner ever since . . ." Clary's voice trailed off and she shook her head. Looking up, she found Jocelyn looking at her with sadness. "Anyways, now I'm not appreciated on Sunday brunches?"

Valentine laughed. "Of course you are, honey. Dinners are just something your mom and I prefer."

"Didn't you have plans today, Clary?" asked Jocelyn with a frown on her face. Clary frowned herself.

"How'd you find out?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Jocelyn looked at her. "John told us of some 'hot date'," she said using quotation marks. Valentine raised his eyebrow at his daughter.

" Joh—hot date?" Clary laughed. "That is the most ridiculous thing. How did he even know I had plans? I mean, the only one there when I got the phone call was Ale—" Clary narrowed her eyes at the floor. "Bastard."

Jocelyn smiled. "So what is this event?"

Clary shook her head. "An auction. But I'm not going." Valentine squeezed her.

"Why not?" he asked. "Were you going with friends?"

Clary grimaced. "Not necessarily friends and it starts at three. I still have a lot of work to grade. Parent-teacher conferences are this Friday."

"Who were you going with?" asked Jocelyn. Clary closed her eyes wishing the conversation had not stirred that way. She was going to have a talk with Alec about confidentiality.

"Uhm, remember Camille Belcourt?" she told her, unable to come up with a plausible lie.

Her mom thought for a while before the light bulb went on behind her eyes. "The pretty blonde that bought a painting at the art exhibition?"

Clary nodded. "Yeah. Her and her friend."

"The attractive blonde man with her?" she questioned leaving the paintbrush on the easel and coming to sit on the other side of Clary. She breathed deeply and willed her blush away.

"Attractive blonde man?" asked Valentine. Clary looked over at him, but he was looking at Jocelyn with raised eyebrows. Jocelyn laughed.

"Oh, attractive for Clary. You're the only attractive blonde man for me, Val," she said with a small smile. Valentine smiled at her before looking down at Clary.

"Attractive blonde man?" he asked Clary. She was sure her blush was now permanent.

"Mom, stop helping him, yeah? Yes, dad, he is attractive. And blonde. And a man. So, what?"

Valentine shrugged. "That's true. Clary's type is more brunettes or black-haired guys like Simon, Daniel, Sebasti—" Clary's blush all but intensified.

"Oh, look at the time! I better get home!" Clary said and began getting up before Jocelyn stopped her.

"Not so fast," Jocelyn paused. "You've got to go." Clary's eyes widened.

"Wait, what? Why, mom!" Clary looked at her dad. "Dad, help me here!" Valentine looked just as confused as Clary.

"They are clients, Clary. You made a commitment with them and you've got to keep it. Remember what we always talk about? The only thing that actually has meaning is—"

"—your name and your word. You don't keep your word, your name has no value," finished Clary for Jocelyn.

She nodded. "Why wouldn't you want to go? It's just an auction."

"Mom, have you forgotten my hate for those types of events? The grounding for ditching grandmother every time she invited me to one? You couldn't have forgotten the time I jumped a fence, consequently ripping the dress I was wearing and falling in a pile of mud. All because I was trying to escape the beauty pageant grandmother was judging."

Valentine chuckled. "She's got a point, Lyn."

"No, she doesn't," said Jocelyn with a serious expression. "You were sixteen at the time. You are now an adult and have to take responsibility for your actions."

Clary sighed. "Okay. Whatever. I've got to go if you want me to attend . . . that."

Jocelyn smiled at her and got up. "Here, I'll show you out."

Clary rolled her eyes while standing up. "Mom, I lived here. I know the way out," she said, annoyed.

"I know you do, sweetie. I'd be worried if you didn't." Jocelyn walked towards the hallway. Clary rolled her eyes and kissed her dad's cheek.

"Bye, dad. I'll call tomorrow."

"Bye, honey," he responded with a wave as she left the room. Jocelyn was already going down the stairs and Clary caught up quite easily. Once downstairs, she gathered all her work from the kitchen table. Jocelyn waited patiently, a weird expression taking over her face.

"What's wrong, mom?" Clary said with a sigh.

"Sweetie, you know I want you to be happy, right?"

"Yes, mom. And I am." Clary frowned. "Why, what's the problem?"

"You didn't want to go because of Mr. Wayland," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Clary shook her head. How her mom remembered his name was beyond her.

"Partly," she said, unable to lie to her mom.

"Clary, it's been over a month since Sebastian and you broke up. You can't just gi—"

"Mom, I really don't want to talk about what happened between Sebastian and me, okay? That's over. At least I'm trying to get over it," she finished looking up at her mother.

"What better way than to start seeing men? Mr. Wayland is a very—and only because your dad isn't here—sexy man. I wouldn't stop you from him." Clary touched her hand to her heated cheek.

"Dear lord, mom," Clary muttered, embarrassed. "Yes, he is. But there is just something about him that I don't quite like, okay?" Clary walked over to her mom and kissed her cheek. "I'm going to be fine, yeah? I'll call later today or tomorrow."

Jocelyn smiled and smoothed down Clary's hair. "Okay, sweetie. See you soon."

Clary nodded and started walking towards the door, Jocelyn right behind her. As Clary passed the threshold of the door, Jocelyn put a hand on her arm. "Don't lose your temper," she said.

The door closed behind Clary, and with that, a big smirk took over her smile.

w.^.w

"You did tell her 2:45, right?" asked Camille, rephrasing the question for the fifth time. Jace rolled his eyes and scowled at her.

"Yes, I did, Cam. She's not answering her phone. Why don't you get your little ass moving and punch her buzzer?" Camille punched him on the arm.

"The fuck with you, Jace? Why don't you do it? Be a gentleman," she hissed at him. Jace's scowl grew immediately as he turned the car's ignition off.

"You know what? I guess I will be a fucking gentleman." He closed the door of the car and began walking towards the front door of the building. He was shaking his head muttering a few curses when he bumped into something. The flash of red immediately told him who it was.

"Oh, Jace," she said, an annoyed tone in her voice. Jace's anger flared. How dare she sound annoyed when they had been waiting for her ten minutes?

"Clary," he responded looking at her with a blank face. Her eyebrow's rose before she turned around and opened the door of her building. Jace took in her jeans and t-shirt and knew she definitely wasn't ready to go. "Did you forget about today? I mean, I did just call you yesterday to make plans. Your brain can't be that dense."

Jace knew to expect something. Maybe yelling and tears. What he didn't expect was for Clary to calmly turn around, look at him up and down, and finally smiling. But it was wrong. It wasn't sweet or nice. It was . . . Evil? Calculative? Jace couldn't figure it out and that set him off.

She stepped closer to him and looked up at him with that smile still in place. "You may want to change your tone of voice if you want me to be down here in ten minutes. Not everything revolves around you, Mr. Wayland." She, then, turned around, the door closing between them. The last thing Jace saw was Clary's retreating form.

Turning around, he tugged at his hair with the scowl still on his face. For unknown reasons, hearing Clary call him "Mr. Wayland" made him feel weird. He didn't like it and that's usually what everybody would call him. Looking up, he saw Camille arching a brow at him from inside his car. He shook his head as he slowly made his way to his seat.

"Well, you truly look frazzled. What'd she tell you?" she asked once he had sat down.

"She said, 'ten minutes'." He paused. "What does that mean for women? Forty-five minutes? An hour, perhaps?" Camille shrugged.

"Every woman is different. You've got to wait and see," she responded getting comfortable in her seat. She went over and switched the radio on.

Getting ready for the long wait, he could bet.

Although, rarely enough, Clary came out of her apartment in nine minutes. And, she did not disappoint.

w.^.w

There were a few things Clary hated of attractive men. And not just hated, but hated. She believed them pretentious assholes with over flooded egos and, deep down inside, bullies.

Clary had learned to take care of bullies when she was young. Having Jonathan made her almost immune to any sort of offense of discrimination from anyone.

Another thing she had learned was that bullies loved pushing on people's buttons. So, when they got a big reaction from someone, they mentally patted their backs for being able to do such damage. Whether despair or anger, they still loved that. So, Clary learned to never give them that.

When Clary was around seven years old, this girl made fun of her red hair, saying she looked like a big strawberry. Clary, not happy with the way they were messing with her, started yelling at this girl and the girl at her. Things got a little heated for seven-year olds and Clary found herself pulling on the other girl's hair.

She got in a lot of trouble for that, and since then, Jocelyn would tell her every single day one thing:

Don't lose your temper.

Clary decided to use something called reverse psychology. Bullies got so frazzled by it that they would walk away. Jocelyn also told her that:

They are good with actions. Words scare them.

She had been definitely right by that and Clary loved the look that they got in their eyes when you hit them back. Clary had absolutely gotten it from Jace. His blank face had not changed at all, but his eyes changed from completely in control to astonishment.

Oh, I will not lose my temper, mom, she thought. Though, that doesn't mean I can't get him back for his stupid mouth.

Just to spite him, Clary got ready in record time.

The looks she got from him as she took her seat in the backseat were priceless for her. As she chatted with Camille, Jace's eyes looked at her through the rearview mirror. Clary couldn't help it as she raised an eyebrow and bobbed her head in a "what?" gesture. His eyes stayed on her a little longer before his eyes crinkled and he looked back to the road.

Once there, Clary ignored Jace with class as they walked around looking at the various artifacts that were being sold. He didn't try to make talk with her at all and she was more than happy for that. Maybe he'd get the hint.

Even through her badass façade, Clary was having trouble with her own self control. She had to admit that Jace Wayland looked amazing in his Armani suit. As her mom had said, he was a sexy man. Having seen him with and without clothes, she could tell there was no ounce of loose fat in that body.

Her luck didn't run all night, though, because once they had to take their seats for the auction to begin, Jace sat in between Camille and herself, making it almost impossible for Clary to ignore him. Luckily, there was a good looking man next to her that didn't seem to be afraid of showing that he was checking her out.

Smiling, she held out her hand. "Clary," she told him.

"Adam," he said and clasped his hand around hers, his brown eyes twinkling. She felt Jace tense next to her, whether it was because of her interacting with Adam or something else, Clary didn't know, but she knew she was going to take another of her mom's words as advice and start seeing men.

"Nice to meet you," she responded with a flirty smile.

He smirked at her. "The pleasure is all mine. Now," he paused, "you'll have to excuse me for being so direct but, you are truly a beautiful woman." Clary felt a blush creeping to her cheeks. "Are you alone?"

"Uhm, no," she responded putting her cold hand to her cheek. "I come with friends." She honestly didn't know what to call them.

"Well," he glanced up at Jace quickly before settling his eyes on her once more. "If I was your friend there, I wouldn't neglect you at all."

Clary laughed good-naturedly. "You are surely the sweet-talker, Adam."

"Only to women who are worth it," he replied, winking at her slightly. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped as a frown took over his face. His eyes were looking over her shoulder.

"Clary, will you come with me?" she heard Jace say from next to her. She smiled at Adam briefly before looking at Jace.

"I'm actually a little busy. What do you need?" she told him rather snarky. He raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to come with me. Is that going to be a problem?" Clary scowled at him.

"Actually, it is going to be a problem. I'm not liking you tone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was talking to someone." She made to turn back to Adam when she felt Jace's hand encircle her arm.

"Clary," he said scolding. She looked up at him and stood up with a curse while shaking his hand off.

"Fine," she said, but turned back to Adam with a flirty smile. "I'll be right back."

Once Jace had taken her to the bar, he turned to her with a steely gaze. Clary raised her eyebrows as she crossed her arms.

"What the fuck, Clary?" he plainly told her. She frowned.

"I don't know what you are asking me," she told him truthfully. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"You are flirting with a man when you're here with me?" Clary looked at him surprised as she took in his alarmed face as he realized what he'd said. All too soon, his face closed off.

"Technically, I am not here with you. You invited me to come with Camille and yourself. This was never a date. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong." He looked at her calculating what to say next before he took her arm and dragged her somewhere farther from people. Clary just went along while rolling her eyes.

He stopped once they entered an empty gallery. Clary looked up at him as he gazed down at her. "I thought I made it clear that I was interested in you at the alley."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? Well, you aren't winning me over with your way with words." Jace snorted.

"So, what? You want me to talk to you like that kiss-ass idiot?" Clary rolled her eyes in frustration.

"No. But insulting me isn't helping your case at all. And he may have been a kiss-ass, but idiot he wasn't. Right now, you are the idiot." Clary saw as his eyes darkened and he began walking towards her. She frowned but stood her ground.

"Maybe I'm an idiot. But, who cares? You certainly don't. You've been looking at me all evening like you want to take my clothes off and eat me," he said, his voice rough. Clary breathed out shakily. So maybe she wasn't so good at hiding it.

"You've been doing that too," she told him, her voice a whisper. He stopped right in front of her and she could feel the warmth radiating off him raising goose bumps on her arms.

"Yes, I have." His hands grabbed her hips before slowly stroking her sides. His lips went to her neck, softly kissing her there, making Clary gasp. She put her hands on his shoulders softly and pulled him back until they were face to face, his hands still on her sides.

She got up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips lightly. Jace pressed her body to his and kissed her more deeply. Clary felt overpowered by his body, lips, hands. Everything. They were almost not making her think straight.

"You know," she began, breaking the kiss. She looked up at him with a smirk. "It sucks that you are an ass."

She disentangled herself from him and walked out of the gallery, smirk still in place.

No excuse for not updating in almost two months. I'm so sorry. Incredible writer's block. I swear. I was dying. I, originally, had three beginnings for this chapter and just yesterday I decided to use this one, so it was very hard and tedious work. This was supposed to be a Thanksgiving gift but seeing as it is 1:19, it doesn't count. *sigh*

I hope you guys can forgive me and I'll try (no promises) to update RS as well before Monday. :) I really am trying to get through these writer's block.

Thanks to BlondeHairBlueEyes14, Sportyno1, camibandlover, and 07XReflectional. I love these chicks and I would write a mesage but I need to go to sleep. xD

Again, thank you for reading and it would mean a lot if you could leave an amazing . . .

Review? :)