'Emma, can I talk to you?'

Emma Carstairs tore her attention from Mark Blackthorn's joke about a lycanthrope, a vampire and a warlock walking into a bar to focus on his younger brother, who had appeared next to them. Julian Blackthorn's dark curls were sticking up at strange angles around his head, as though he had run his hands through his hair repeatedly. There was a wild look in his eyes that Emma recognised as his 'I-swear-by-the-Angel-if-I-can't-talk-to-you-Emma-Carstairs-I-will-scream' look. When they were younger it usually appeared when Helen, Mark and Andrew Blackthorn were out on a mission and he was in charge of the Institute, and one of his four younger siblings did something dangerous or stupid – which, when they were training, was often both. Emma always managed to calm him down, convince him there was nothing life-threatening in the cut Dru had given herself when she mistimed catching her throwing star, or that a dislocated bone could be fixed in seconds.

But why was he looking at her like this now? Andrew and Helen were there, along with Jace and Clary and about two dozen other qualified adults who could all deal with anything Dru or Tavvy got themselves into. Nothing she could see called for that look.

Which made her decision easy.

'Sure,' Emma nodded. Glancing apologetically at Mark, she let Julian lead her off the floor – well away from his brother.

They were out of earshot of pretty much everyone on the dance floor, but Julian kept walking, his hand holding on tightly to hers.

They left the marquis, passed the altar where Jace and Clary were married barely three hours ago, and kept going until they had emerged on the other side of a small grove of trees, Julian only stopping when they came to a small stream that marked the edge of the Fairchild estate. He pulled Emma towards a large, flattish rock, half-buried in the ground. As he sat, he kept hold of her hand and drew her down next to him. Thankfully for her dress, the rock was smooth and relatively clean, so that when they returned to the party, there wouldn't be any obvious marks on her skirt.

They sat in silence. Emma was tempted to ask what Julian wanted to talk about, but decided that he would tell her when he was ready. Instead she focused on the sky. In the two hours they had spent in the marquis, sunset had arrived, painting the sky in streaks of pink and purple and orange. The next row of trees was a good three hundred metres away, across the creek, meaning they had a perfect view of the sun setting behind the trees, the final flashes of bright light gleaming through the gaps between the boughs and leaves. Emma tipped her head back to watch two lilac clouds chase each other across the sky, pushed by the gentle summer breeze. She was grateful for the breath of cooler air after the heat of the marquis, especially when combined with at least an hour of dancing.

She had spent much of the reception with Mark, who had just got back from nine months at the Sydney Institute, where he had decided to spend a year after turning eighteen, in time-honoured Shadowhunter fashion. He had only returned upon receiving the invitation to Jace and Clary's wedding, but wasn't sure if he wanted to go back for another three months. He hadn't spoken to his father about his doubts yet – or the Head of the Sydney Institute, for that matter – but had confided in Emma and Julian, in the hopes that together they could come up with a legitimate reason why he could stay that sounded better than 'I really hate the spiders.' Which, while it was true, was not the most Shadowhunter-esque feeling, and the Clave probably wouldn't accept it as genuine grounds for not fulfilling the year Mark had signed on for in Australia.

Emma was snapped out of her reverie by Julian shifting on the rock next to her. They were sitting so close that his shoulder brushed against hers. He stopped so that he was facing vaguely in her direction, and she felt his shoulders rise as he took a deep breath.

'I can't be your parabatai, Emma.'

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. Emma blinked in surprise – Julian had never disagreed with her on something so serious in their lives! They were always on the same wavelength. Always. They rarely even argued, they understood each other so well, and when they did, they often ended up arguing the same point in different ways.

She finally found her voice. 'Why not?'

Julian was looking at her strangely. She realised she hadn't sounded at all how she wanted to – offhand, mildly curious, but definitely not as though he had punched her with his rejection. All the breath had gone out of her, leaving her feeling winded. Something in her heart was icing over, a feeling like shards of metal were stabbing through her skin, as though tiny droplets of ice were being carried through her veins, cutting wherever they travelled.

Julian bit his lip – not quite hard enough to draw blood, but from his wince she could tell it was close. 'It wouldn't be fair.'

'Fair? Fair on who? You? Or on me?' Her voice, though still sounding slightly strangled, was coming more easily, as was her breath. Her heart, however, was starting to beat faster and harder.

'Either of us. Neither. Both!' Julian ran his hands through his hair and stood up, taking a few steps along the stream before turning back to her. 'I don't know, it just isn't. I'm sorry Emma, I can't do it, I won't watch you with him, not like that –'

'Jules, stop. You aren't making any sense! You won't watch me do what? With who?' Emma was fighting her growing anger, simply because of the look in Julian's eyes. She couldn't decipher what was running through his head, so many emotions were flitting across his face in such quick succession.

Julian shook his head. 'We don't need to be parabatai, Emma. That's basically what we are already!'

Emma stood, arms crossed in defiance. 'That's exactly my point. We're almost parabatai anyway, so why shouldn't we have the ceremony? What would it change?'

'It would change everything.' Emma's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, but Julian kept talking. 'There would never be anything I could do. I would be your brother, but not in a way that meant my own brother couldn't –'. He caught himself. But not fast enough.

'That your brother couldn't what? Go on, Julian, by all means. Tell me what it is that your brother could still do if we were parabatai that you and I couldn't.' Even as the words left her mouth Emma realised what he was talking about.

Oh. Oh, oh, oh. Julian.

'You don't think… That me and Mark? By the Angel, Julian! Do you not know either of us at all?' Emma let out a short, incredulous laugh. 'He rode with the Wild Hunt for four years! He was whipped and beaten – for all we know, mentally tortured as well – just for being half-Shadowhunter! Don't you think that after all that time, he deserves a bit of kindness? Someone he can just talk to, who won't judge him, but who isn't so close to him that they know everything about him from before? The bits he still doesn't really remember?' Julian opened his mouth to say something, but she cut straight across him. 'Why would you ever think I wanted him like that? For one thing, it would make things incredibly awkward between you and me,' ('You have no idea,' Julian muttered, almost too quietly for Emma to hear) 'and for another, he's living in Australia! And, as we both know, neither of us has actually thought of a decent excuse for him to stay that the Clave would accept as legitimate. Also,' she added, almost as an afterthought, 'I'm pretty sure Mark is gay.'

Julian stared at her as though she had just arrived from another planet. 'Mark is gay?' Emma was brought up short by the amount of sheer relief in his voice.

'Well, bi,' she amended. 'I know he's had girlfriends before, but you know that faerie boy that sometimes just "drops by" with some information on the Seelie Court – what's his name, Kieran – he can't stop staring whenever he's in the room.'

Julian ran his hand through his hair again – why did she keep noticing that? – and let his head tip back so he was staring at the stars. His eyes fluttered shut, and he just stood there like a statue, only the small movement of his chest and the movement of his hair in the breeze suggesting he wasn't made of stone.

Emma remained silent for a few seconds, before crossing the short distance between them and laying her -hand on Julian's arm. She started writing, tracing the letters lightly with her finger. J-U-L-E-S, T-A-L-K T-O M-E.

Julian's eyes snapped open, his head tilting so that she couldn't see his face as he took a few steps away from her. 'I can't. Don't you get it, Emma? I can never go any further than this. I can never say what I want to say, because I couldn't bear for us to lose what we have. I couldn't live without you, Emma. I never will. But if I say what I'm thinking, you'll hate me for it. And I won't do that.'

Emma's heart stopped. 'I could never hate you, Julian,' she whispered. All she could see was the gradual rise and fall of his shoulders in the rapidly fading light. 'Jules, look at me.' He began shaking his head, an infinitesimal gesture that made her feel as though something inside her would snap. 'Please?' she added quietly, gently, some intrinsic part of her knowing that she had to move very carefully if they were both to survive this conversation intact. His shoulders slumped, but he turned to face her, slowly, almost painfully so.

'Tell me.' The only thought in her head was that she had to know what he was thinking. That if she knew, she could help him. That if she knew, he would feel better for having told someone. That if she knew, they would be Emma and Julian again, working together to deal with whatever life threw their way.

Julian bowed his head, almost as though he were praying, before lifting his head and meeting her eyes.

'Emma, I love you.'

Emma froze.

The only sound was the bubbling, gurgling noise of the brook to their right.

The pounding of the music coming from the marquis was barely audible, but the thumping of the bass still somehow reached them, making the ground tremble slightly, in time with the beat of Emma's heart.

Darkness was closing in, the last streaks of pink and purple fading away behind the trees.

'Emma.' Julian's voice broke the silence. 'Emma, please say something. Anything.'

She said nothing.

But she did move.

One step. Then another.

Until she was in front of Julian.

Until she was reaching up to lock her arms around his neck.

Until she was kissing him.

Years of yearning stretched behind her. Lying to herself, trying to convince herself it was just a crush, that it would fade in time. Lying to him. Julian. How could she ever have thought that was the right thing to do? She should have told him. She should never have decided becoming parabatai would stop her from having to tell him, that he didn't care for her like that. She should have seen how he was feeling, how his feelings mirrored hers.

His mouth slanted across hers, tracing the outline of her lips. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, their breaths coming faster as they tasted each other.

When she asked him to be parabatai, her entire body had been screaming at her. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But this?

This was right. This was all she needed.

He was all she needed.

Julian. Her Julian.

She kissed him again, harder. He groaned deep in his throat, hands wandering over her back, her shoulders, her sides, mapping out her body with every movement of his fingers. Her skin burned like fire wherever he touched. She ran her hands through his hair, fingers tangling in the dark curls that were as soft as silk, light as feathers.

She wrenched her mouth away from his, forcing herself to step away from him, even as her body ached for him, her heart beating wildly in her chest, almost as if it wanted to leap out and bury itself in him.

She stared at Julian. His eyes were shining like the stars wheeling above them, his hair mussed and his lips kiss-swollen. He looked more relaxed than he had in weeks. Months. How had she not seen how tense he was? How had he hidden what he felt all this time?

Emma realised she hadn't said anything yet. Meeting Julian's eyes, she backed towards the rock where their conversation had started, and sat down, reaching out her hand in invitation. He responded instantly, closing the distance between them and taking her hand, sitting himself down next to her.

'I have to tell you something.'

'What is it?' Julian spoke calmly, but a note of fear crept in at the end.

'It's important. It's so important that I have never told anyone, and once I tell you, I will never say this to anyone else. Ever.'

'Emma. What is it?' Julian repeated, his fear growing more pronounced with every word.

Emma took a deep breath and met his gaze shyly. 'I love you too.'

Julian's answering smile was bright enough to block out the moon. He leaned towards her, slowly, so slowly, that when their lips finally met, her main reaction was of relief. Relief that she would never have to wait so long for another kiss from Julian, from her Jules, whom she loved with all her heart, who had been by her side her whole life, and with any luck, would continue doing so for the rest of it.

Who needs a parabatai? Emma thought to herself when they eventually drew apart, invisible in the darkness. I have Julian.