Date Night

Date Prep

A/N

Again, all credit goes to the lovely Cassandra Clare...I hope you like this chap, lovelies.

............

"Sit still, Clary," Isabelle groaned, shoving a damned bobby pin into Clary's hair. This time, Clary swore she was bleeding.

Clary winced and bit her lower lip, looking at herself in Isabelle's vanity table mirror.

Right now, Isabelle was constructing a complicated yet simple looking hair do atop Clary's head, twisting and curling Clary's red hair, looking like she was enjoying her work.

"We're going to dinner, Iz. Not a party at Magnus's. Or any Downworlder hangout like Pandemonium." Clary whined, trying to yank a bobby pin that was poking painfully on her scalp. Isabelle glared at the hand as if it were a demon that had destroyed her favorite pair of shoes and slowly, Clary pulled it away, afraid that Isabelle would bite her entire arm off.

"That doesn't mean you can't look pretty for Jace, Clary." Isabelle non-chalantly, seeming to return to her normal, sane state, slowly sliding a bobby pin out of Clary's hair after that lock of hair had been secured.

"Jace doesn't care how I look," Clary said proudly, thinking about how Jace always liked her in whatever she wore.

"You think so." Isabelle said amusedly.

"He does!" Clary said, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"Close your eyes," Isabelle snapped and Clary obeyed, not wanting to have Isabelle force her. She felt eyeshadow being applied though it was a light dusting, thank the Angel.

With the felt amount of makeup that Isabelle was applying, Clary couldn't help but imagine herself as a clown with three inches of powder on her cheeks if she opened her eyes.

Isabelle moved on to eyeliner and Clary remembered the first time Isabelle did this for her, when Clary asked her if her brother Alec was gay. She smiled softly at the memory and bit the the inside of her cheeks.

"There. You're done. Get up so I can see this beauty." Isabelle said, ushering Clary to her feet before guiding her to Isabelle's full length mirror.

Ugh.

Clary felt extremely overdressed, immediately yearning for her jeans and a t-shirt

Isabelle had managed to slip a black dress on Clary - not the same skin tight black one she wore on her first 'mission' to Magnus Bane's, thank goodness - that was breezier and frillier at the bottom. The dress was sleeveless, making Clary shiver. Summer was slowly passing and the temperature was dropping with each day. The hem of the dress was lace, silver and gold enkeli runes sewed on the lace.

Eyeliner curled her eyes, making her green irises look deep and luminous.

"There..." Isabelle said, brushing a lock of hair from Clary's forehead, looking like a proud mother of a prom princess.

"This is so overboard." Clary sighed, grabbing a black cotton jacket that hung on Isabelle's bedpost.

"It's not. That jacket should be left behind...but I'm talking to Clary Fray. Who am I kidding?" Isabelle sighed, giving in as she gauged Clary's stubborn expression.

"Thanks, Izzy. See ya." Clary said as she prepared to leave.

"Wait! Here," Isabelle said. She held something in her hand--a seraph blade, Clary realized.

Unthinkingly, Clary took the blade from Clary then mentally slapped herself in the forehead. "Izzy, we're going to din--"

Isabelle held up a hand, silencing Clary.

"No. You are bringing that angel blade along or so help me, Clary, I will ground you from your date."

Clary's eyes widened and found herself feeling annoyed and amused at the same time.

"By the Angel, you have no idea how much you sound like my mom. Like, really." Clary said. "But...I have no idea where to put this." Clary said, prepared to hand the blade back to Isabelle.

"There's a built-in sheath in the jacket." Isabelle said casually, pulling her long hair into a ponytail, not a wisp out of place.

Clary could feel herself slowly begin to fume. It seems that Isabelle had thought of everything. With a heavy, resigned sigh, Clary slipped the seraph blade in. She suddenly noticed the dagger that occupied the sheath beside it.

"Shut up and go on your date. Shoo." Isabelle quite literally shoved Clary out of the door before she could even say anything about the dagger.

Jace stood outside, in a decent white button t-shirt and - not to Clary's surprise - Shadowhunter leather hunting pants. You could drag the boy out of the Shadowhunter world for the night but you could never drag the Shadow World out of the boy.

Clary smiled at that. She never wanted to change Jace in anyway. Ever.

Gold hair fell into his gold eyes which were hooded lazily and his hands were behind his back as he leaned on the wall,.

"What took you guys so long? Discussing national demon security?" Jace scoffed though his eyes stayed glued to Clary, making her blush.

"More of arguing about her security." Isabelle said, leaning against the doorframe of her room, looking at the couple with slotted, cooing eyes. "Now...shoo, lovebirds. Don't worry...if you aren't back by 2 am, I'll tell your mom you're playing chess with the Inquisitor."

With that, Isabelle slinked back into her room and slammed the door shut with a loud finality.

"Shall we?" Clary asked, looking up at Jace.

His eyes raked her from bottom to top, finally resting on Clary's hair with a calculative, scrutinizing look that made her bite her lip.

"What? Is it messed up?" Clary said self-consciously, trying to pat her already perfect hair down.

"No, no," Jace mumbled as he slid closer to Clary. Her nervous, jitter meter shot off to a thousand percent when he brushed against her and Jace sensed it and grinned.

His hand snaked behind her head and Clary felt the clips that held her hair in place slip off.

Warm, tickling tendrils of Clary curly hair fell in a familiar curtain around her shoulders.

"Isabelle's gonna kill you if she finds out what you did," Clary murmured, enjoying being so close to Jace.

He shrugged, his scarred, slender pianist fingers trailing down her hair to her neck, lingering on her collarbone and the Morgenstern ring. He ran his fingers down her arm gently, playfully and took Clary's hand.

It felt like she could breathe with Jace's hand in hers. She enjoyed the feeling of his long, calloused fingers grasped in hers and grasping hers. She felt safe.

"I've always like it down, anyways."

.........

Here you are, lovelies...the second part of this book. ILYASM! What did you think of it?

Cheers to Cassandra Clare and her wonderful, imaginative mind...cheerio until next time, which wont be too far away, I promise you.

-Charmaine