Disclaimer: All characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Warning: Graphic description of sexual content.

A/N: The first appearance of the mysterious boy. Any guess who that is? (I enjoy writing his scene with Alec very much... just saying!)

Again my apology if i am not updating regularly like i used to, this is because the coming week is the last of my semester; assignments and presentations are keeping me away from writing but as soon as I have time I work on this story. Anyway, just giving you guys a heads up.:)

Enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 8: Reminders

Nothing was going on. At the surface.

The intercom hadn't updated for hours, Will was delighted about it. No updates meant no murders. And that was a good news. He was doing the paperwork for the case of Alexander Lightwood and once he was finished, those files would be buried in the dampest corner in the system. Like many others.

Head down and typing, Will felt the warmth on his back. The weather was great in this early April, sun always up above their heads. It somewhat alleviated his anxious anticipation of the coming Friday, which only a day away.

After he met up with Jace and Isabelle, he made a trip to the black market. He befriended with some dealers back when he was young, and some were met during work. Easily he transferred the money into untraceable trading sticks which were resting in his safe at home.

Will's fingers moving fast on the screen, hurried to finish those worthless paperwork.

Trained for so many years, he immediately felt a presence walking through the entrance of division of homicide and straight to his desk. The temperate plummeted to under zero degree as everyone suddenly stopped talking, with only the sounds of robots and files sped from other divisions.

Neglecting the broad frame in designer suit, Will concentrated on the words appeared on the screen. They stayed like that for a while, others slowly returned to their posts but not without whispering into ears.

"William Herondale."

"Yes, commissioner Fairchild?" Will said, continued his typing. Jonathan was pissed, and he had a feeling that it was about him secretly following the kidnapping. However, there was no turning back. And he wouldn't surrender under authority.

The man standing sighed, and pocketed his hands into the wrinkleless black suit pants. "Will, come to my office."

Keeping his head down and eyes focused on those small neon green letters, Will replied rebelliously, "I will, commissioner, once I finish this report. You see, this is urgent."

Indeed it was urgent. The Lightwoods must have contacted the Clave and then pressured them to close the case as quick as fired bullets. For the past day he had been handling these dull and meaningless beautiful phrasing of careless parental actions. He was tired of all those pretty words covering up. Deep down the Ligthwoods were scums. Insulting, but Will didn't regret his choice of word.

"William!" Jonathan scolded, and once again the room silenced. "You should not speak to me in such manner – you come with me, NOW."

He lifted his head lightly and looked at Jonathan sideway. Nodded, Will stood up from his seat while turning off his screen. Outstretched his arm and one remained at his back, Will announced. "After you, commissioner."

Jonathan snorted at his crooked smile, but still walked out with Will on his heels.

None of them had said anything during their way to Jonathan's office. Will, followed the tall man saw a few strands of gray in the pale blondness. Jonathan was ageing, as he was reaching the mark of 40. Will didn't know what to think about it.

Jonathan nodded to the guards at the front of his office, and swiftly entered. Will right on his tail, slipped through the closing auto door with ease. The older man paced to his seat, but showed no intention of sitting. Instead he faced the panel and looked at the busy traffic under their feet. On the other hand, Will took his liberty to make use of the chair and rested on top of the iron handle, as if he was a bad boy leaning against his motorcycle.

"Jonathan, you looked so handsome when you admiring the scenario from your own office. If nothing else I guess I am leaving." Will said sarcastically while snatched a crystal ball from the desk, juggling within his slender fingers.

At that the blond said firmly. "You disobey my order."

Throwing the ball in the air and caught it with his palms, Will shrugged. "When do I not?"

Arrogant in his youth, Will had created more troubles than he could take. Aristos before they were accepted to the academy had to live in the restricted area – they spent their childhood in Deborah. Will one day was sick of all those stupid rules, so he planned a night out by himself.

That was the very first time he explored the world other than Deborah. The thrills and adrenaline in his veins were the best he had ever experienced. And it all came back when he was meeting Sebastian Verlac, when he visited old friends in the black market. He liked to break them; laws and codes.

And this wouldn't be the first, nor the last.

Jonathan turned and eyed him all over, as the blue-eyed man whistled to entertain himself. He stood in front of him and leaned on the desk. They were a feet away, his body blocked the sun and casted a shadow over the bad boy.

Loosened his tie, he popped two buttons opened. Will acknowledged this and cheered.

"Wow, I am irresistible but here makes me uncomfortable. Maybe my place?

"Stop it, Will."

Will threw the last catch and held the ball in his hand, stated. "You are angry with me."

"Isn't it obvious?" Sneered, Jonathan ran a hand through his pale hairs, "You have to stop messing around."

"You need to be more specific. I have no idea what messing around you're talking about." He already knew what was coming out from Jonathan's mouth.

This, however, didn't irritate Jonathan. The man simply snatched back his crystal ball and placed it back on the base. Then he looked into Will's complex blue eyes, "The Lightwood child."

Will had prepared himself for this. No one could escape under the surveillance of the Clave, except those Aristos in the Institute. It was one of the reasons why he admired them; they were a force that fought against the ruling of the Clave, of which conservative and sometimes naïve. But this love was mixed with hatred and fury.

And surely, his every movement would be recorded by the droids and city scans. He wasn't surprised at all. His hands slumped between his legs.

"I do what is right, Jon. The kid needs to be saved. I don't care if I break the rules or not but I am doing it, if no one else is." Will said, his voice raised a little at the end.

"I understand you want you help him, that's fine with me." Jonathan stopped for a moment, "But you are being too obvious. Your little trip to the black market alarms the Lightwoods and you know they have connection with the president. I am told this morning that I am given the power to do anything if you don't stop after this meeting. I don't want to do this to you. Will, I don't care that you help the boy, but at least please, don't let the light spot you."

"And if I do?" Will asked, straightened up his back and stood up, "you're locking me up in a cell until forever? Like a criminal?"

"No. But I can issue a memory wiping order."

Will's eyes widened in shock – and for the first time he hesitated to open his mouth. Jonathan observed his expression and pressed his lips into a hard line. "You will leave me no choice but to delete everything. From you and anyone related to you. Anyone who possibly knows your plan. You and your friends will be removed from Vikram to other cities."

"They can't do this – "

"Yes, they can." Jonathan said softly, folding his arms. "And most likely you won't be able to see your friends for good."

His heart chilled as if he was bathed in a tub filled with ice. Will said in a low voice. "So no mistake is allowed."

The commissioner too whispered, scared of their conversation being heard.

"I shouldn't have dragged you into this." Jonathan smiled bitterly, "Your life is ruined, one way or another."

Holding Chairman Meow and scratching his head, Magnus scanned racks of materials in more or less the same color (for amateur). Most of the fabrics and colors had settled down, with only this one left. It was the grand finale to wrap up the show: an emerald strapless gown, see-through bistre and liver silk gauzes in the form of twigs and branches enclosed the waist, some reached up to the chest and the back while some down along the left thigh. It had to be perfect.

He put back the taupe silk gauzes back in the racks. Bronze fingers travelled along, tapping the plastic shelves. Amber eyes darting around and he triumphed as he spotted the right color. It was at the top, but Magnus extracted it without tipping toes.

Chairman, the smart cat jumped off from his hold and walked himself to the end of the racks, climbed up rows and sneaked into a basket big enough to put a person in. Although Magnus could join Chairman and let the machine do all the work, he preferred going down by himself. After all, the way the basket took was full of objects dashed right above your head and full of bumps, not at all pacific. He did not want another ride of roller-coaster inside this commercial building.

Magnus kept his elegant pace, deposited the material he turned to the buttons on the basket handle and pressed his room number. Before he started the delivery, he patted the cat. "See you in my office."

Then a transparent shield activated and the basket set off, flying in the air and out the storage room steadily. Magnus was glad that everything was on track; his designs were in progress, and he was going to sew the gown himself. All hand-made.

When he walked out the basket were gone. He followed the same path but stayed straight when there was a spiral case on the right. Those were route for machines. Elevators were at the very front of the hallway. Magnus stood in front of the door, close enough for the small box above projected beams in blue on him from head to toe. Almost at the same time the lights vanished, the door opened and the smell of coldness embraced him.

Magnus pressed his floor. The elevator was made of glass, he could see clearly those multicolored dots stationary on both sides of the roads, or some heading to different directions.

This world around him was full of colors. Everyone was looking for visual excitement and standout – dyeing hairs in light purple and electric blue or ridiculous shades of many others, wearing rare jewelries and weird clothes that didn't match. He, might be too described as strange and shiny, but definitely not because of the same reasons liked those people on the streets.

On the contrary to common belief, he loved simplicity. Maybe not on himself but on the others. Camille had been annoyed by him for his countless attempts to simplify her choice of clothes. One time she even flipped over a table and ruined his lunch. Camille Belcourt was a gorgeous woman, she did not need any of those eye-catching segments on her dresses.

Pretty things radiated allurement without effort.

Exited the elevator he passed groups doing their work. It was a selling point of his, every piece was made by humans. Not robots. In the fashion industry Magnus was an odd presence, doing thing in his eerie way. The technique of making clothes by hands was on the edge of extinction since robots could do them perfectly, many opted for the latter.

Flaws were perfection though. He nodded to one of the apprentices whom lifted his head from the fabric-mixed piles of magenta and raspberry.

The tiny cat greeted him once he opened the door, circling around his feet and staring at him with wide feline eyes. Magnus scooped him up and rubbed his face on those soft furs, carried him to his seat. He sat down and played with him before Camille scooted inside, reporting the progress of the show and his collection. Trusted his assistant would get the things right, he hummed absentmindedly, massaging those paws.

"AW!" Magnus exclaimed when something hit his wrist. He looked to the find the attacker smirking at the reddening spot. Chairman left the scene and showed himself out, flexible body slipped through the small gap and off to his adventure.

Camille put her hands on the waist. She was wearing a palatinate suit, showing her paleness beautifully. Her emerald pupils were scolding at him. Magnus closed his eyes and sighed. "What's the matter?"

"You're not paying attention."

"I am. You said everything is going smoothly. Now you can go." He waved his hands, however Camille decided to ignore it.

"Magnus Bane, this is your big show. Many companies are looking forward to it. If you screw this up your chance of being – "

"Stop right there, Camille." Interrupted, she wasn't pleased, but still she let Magnus go on. "You see, I've built my reputation already; getting into those big brands is merely a bonus. I won't dwell on it if I don't have the chance. Anyway, people come to me for my work, not my title."

He spun a pen within his fingers, pretended amusing himself. "Now go and do your work. I have mine to do."

Camille looked at the direction he pointed with the pen, sharply turned her head to Magnus once she saw it. Snorted, she stormed out and crushed the door close.

Distantly he heard a woman's scream: "Oh my God! Chairman YOU! Get off from my desk!"

Giggling and shaking his head, Magnus stood and went to the basket. Good boy, he thought, cooked chicken for tonight. Right on cue, Chairman Meow hopped through the cat door (that Magnus ordered a guard to do it this morning) and comfortably nested near the window, warming himself up under the afternoon sun.

"Number FB37-047: Maureen."

The screen popped up a serial number and the data was entered into the system. Tessa moved on to the last crown, this one with black short hairs cut to her shoulder.

She wasn't surprised that they looked completely different from her design. Every client had different taste.

"Number FB37-512: Aline."

After days of consideration the recollection Female Beta 37 is announced yesterday. With promised efficiency now the racks were packed with hundreds of robots. As soon as she finished checking everyone was back, they were boxed and sent to another factory, lined up on the conveyor belt and returned to their most original forms.

This procedure could have been done by robots, yet she wanted to do this. After all, she was a part of this production from the beginning til the end. They were like her children. At least she had a chance to say goodbye.

Her fingers caressed the cheeks of Aline, she was cold like a corpse. Yet it was tender and supple. She would blush, Tessa was sure, if she wasn't turned off. The temperature detectors around this area were extremely sensitive. A light touch then their skin was rosy for a split second. Just like humans.

When she thought of their fates the tides of grieves and sorrow crushed her. Codes were that you shouldn't have emotional attachments to these non-livings, as they would never return yours. They were tools. However, Tessa disagreed. Clients of hers most of time weren't asking for love, but rather for companion. It wasn't a thing that the society or the Clave should be scared of it with all their hearts, as if it could kill one's soul, burned it into ashes.

She eyed the racks of robots and thinking, every one of them is beautiful in their own ways. Brushed Aline's ebony hairs and patted lightly like a mother, she looked at them for the one last time and started walking to the exit, turned off the light and closed the door behind her. Once the door was locked, her shoulders hunched and hands grasped on her tablet.

I will remember all of you, she swore to herself and copied the data to her home's computer. Lifted her chin confidently Tessa headed upstairs back to her office. Suddenly she felt the urge of making Magnus perfect, so she could shut every one up that machines were able to share sympathy and love, rage and frustration. They weren't monsters, or something deserved to be treated like one.

They could love the way humans did. And Tessa Gray would be the one to rewrite the history.

Parking his car, Jem got all the files in his arms and walked up to Will's house. It was a nice and cozy two-story with walls painted in maroon near the edge of the commercial district Shepherd, where the police station located in. Meanwhile, Jem resided next to the hospital in Guardian. Though they lived separately, often they went to each other's place to spend the night together. Today was the same, with Jem carried the readings to Will's place.

When he walked up the sideway a droid dashed through, patrolling. Jem didn't give a second thought and showed his wrist to the scanner, it beeped twice and the metal door clicked, slightly opened by an inch.

He pushed and kicked the door shut, then kicked his shoes off. Using his toes he put them back into a neat position under the staircase and walked past the storage room, turned right to the living room.

The coffee table was right in the center. Dropped the pile on it, he slumped on the sofa on its left. The blankets were still there, just the same way Jem discarded them when he left the house this morning.

He frowned; John should have tidied it up already.

"John!" Shouting the butler's name, he could hear his own voice bounced around and within the walls. His furrowed brows deepened and chills touched his back. Goose bumps appeared on his arms. Jem pushed himself up, walked to the entrance of living room. Peeked, there was no sign of the butler.

"John, could you… come by the kitchen? I need some help!" Then he called the keeper, "Kate! Come here?"

No response.

Every robot was programmed to recharge if the energy was about to use up, during those moments they could do nothing but remain at their charging spot. They could reply, just not able to go anywhere. It was possible that both were charging, but it hardly was the cause since Will had asked Tessa to connect the two robots so that they would adjust the recharging time automatically. While one was charging, there still be another to serve.

But now… John and Kate weren't answering.

He eyed the main door on his left; the scanner was blackened. Turned off. Jem retreated back into the living room, heart pumping in fear. He couldn't get out from the main door when the scanner was down.

Will wasn't home; there was still one hour before the end of his shift and Jem didn't want to distract him if it was only a minor technical problem. Magnus – Magnus wasn't useful at the situation, as the most he could do was calling the police. He could ask Tessa to check, but it would take an hour.

So he pocketed out his phone and called the emergency center. It was ringing. Pacing around, his gray eyes staring at the entrance alertly.

Jem nearly panicked when the call wasn't picked up. He tried again, but his screen blacked out. No matter what method he used to reboot it the phone simply died. He slipped the phone back to his pocket.

Danger was nearby. One he would say a coincidence, but two and three – Jem kept his eyes on the entrance while backing up to the window next to the wall for TV projection. It was closed without curtain; he could see the outside, yet there was an invisible shield between the house and his car, it blurred the image of the street.

It was a shield that prevented intruders. No one could get in, but also the people inside could get out.

His back was on the wall. Reached a hand out his fingers found the lower sash and they curled on the bottom. He tried to lift it up, which usually should be an easy task, but now the part wouldn't budge. Took some deep breaths Jem calmed himself down, and remained silent. He would find another way out.

But luck wasn't on his side; his phone rang an unfamiliar tone. He felt the vibrations of the gadget on his thigh, also of the heavy steps coming upstairs. Steps, messy and hurried. Jem threw his phone at the corner and rushed to the sofa and hid behind the gap between the sofa and the wall. He covered his mouth and nose, wishing not to make too much noise by his heavy breathing.

Steps stopped at the door. The ring stopped. Then was the cracks on the woods, straight to the coffee table. He curled deeper into a ball, hugging his legs up to his chest. He wouldn't dare look what it was.

His heart cold when it approached. Bit his lips, the silence was filled by his own heartbeats and the small landings of objects on the floor. It was getting louder, and louder, eventually stopped next to him.

Jem opened his eyes and looked sideway, it was Kate – but it wasn't exactly her.

Before Jem could do anything, Kate knocked him out.

Two bodies tangled inside the small stall, making out heatedly. The black-haired boy was pinned against the white stone wall, bit his lip as he was scared people would find out their dirty affair. The sounds of skin sucking echoed within, wet and slippery. And hot. Wherever he touched there was a fire ignited, burning him both in and out. His fingers sneaked under the shirt the other boy was wearing, and brushed his back fondly.

The white blond boy trembled, and said hoarsely. "Teasing me, are you?"

His cheeks were already rosy from the action, and he suspected if it could get any redder. He tilted his head and captured those lips, then nipped at his jaw. It wasn't the first time but he was still doing it like a child. Heard a chuckle his chin was lifted to meet those astonishing eyes.

"My angel." The bony fingers traced his temple and cupped his face, his body pressed even further onto him. He didn't know how he was able to do so, since there was no space between them with their fonts completely melted into each other.

"I'm not. You are." He whispered as his hands slipped up to the delicate shoulders, the hem of the shirt folded but none of them cared right now. They wanted to be closer, to be lost in this disgraceful madness.

Their lips contacted, tongues battling for desire and returned the mutual passion. Breathing became unnecessary.

The white blond pulled him away and the two slid down on the floor, he sat up and leaned his back to the wall with the brunet teenager straddled on his waist. He reached for the belt and unbuttoned the jeans, smiled when the boy shook as he palmed the erection. He hadn't reached into his boxer yet, simply outlining the shape by brushing it, let the fabric rubbed the hard-on. He felt the boxer wet under his touch.

The brunet rested his forehead on his shoulder, breaths hitched and erratic. He threw his head back when he pulled his erection out from the boxer and stroke it with a steady rhythm. He wanted to scream but quickly covered his own mouth and the cry turned into a strangled voice.

"More…" He let out a whisper, luring his lover to do more. Obeyed with the soft order he fastened his pace, and a hand sneaked to the abs, scratched it to leave red nail marks. The upper boy quivered and despite of his dizziness caused by the pleasure, he wanted to return the favor.

Reached down and without mistake he found the swollen lower part, within a blink of an eye he zipped down the fly and grabbed the excitement, started to pump it up and down, following the other boy's movement. The blond sucked in a husky breath and pulled him down to kiss him, teeth crashed and both moaned into each other's lips.

While they were in heaven, the door to the toilet was opened. They heard footsteps, but no one wanted to stop. Someone was freshening up and the sounds of water hit the sink filled the space. They kept on their work, muffled the noises with their faces buried into each other's necks.

Suddenly the door to the stall was kicked open – and revealed a Sebastian Verlac. The boy under him was gone; as Sebastian grabbed the boy's collar and threw him out like a stuffed animal. He heard a loud crack, bone fragmented and body limped. He swayed to the left, trying to look past through the two strong legs; however, the white blond vanished like he wasn't there at the first place.

His erection remained regardless of the situation nearly scared him enough to pass out. He was kneeling leg spread, hands on the wall. Dark eyes landed on the leaking head, Sebastian moved forward.

"What are you doing here, pet?"

He flinched back and his body hit the toilet, sitting on his ankles he curled himself into a ball when the man leaned down and grabbed a fistful of his hairs, forcibly yanked him up.

"Sebastian please, don't do this – " Begging and yelped in between, he was pushed to sit on the toilet by a hand on his shoulder. Fingers found their ways to his neck and enclosed them.

"Wrong answer."

He was choked, his hands went for the wrists and tried to pull them away from his neck. But instead Sebastian increased the force and blocked his air pathway. He could feel the lightness of death and thoughts shifted above the clouds.

Tears ran down his temples and dropped on the mattress, as Sebastian plumped in into the still sore bottom, releasing his wildness on him.

"Ma… Master…" He said with huge difficulties and circled his legs around the older man's waist, wishing for some gentleness.

But it was Sebastian, who gave him anything but that: his hip rocked faster and harder. Numbness mixed with pain shot to his spine. He was losing it. As his vision blurred he reached up to touch the face and he recalled the teenager in the stall, how those affectionate pupils stared into his, the tender touches made him fainted in euphoria.

And pretended it was him who was giving the pain, claiming him to be his. At least he was willing to take it from the blond lovely boy.