Epilogue

*A note: This chapter begins two years from the ending of the last chapter. Each date marker throughout is an indication of the time past from the section just before it. Those that have asked about a sequel, I think this chapter will explain why there won't be one. This has been a truly awesome ride for me. I love these characters. Through them, I've lived this grief and pain and joy. I can't help but be attached to them. This conclusion to their story pleases me. And, I hope it will you as well. XOXO - FQ

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~*~May – two years later~*~

A sliver of sun peeked over the horizon, spilling pale pink and yellow light into the sky above. Clary sat upon the same bleachers as she had so many times before. The same emerald fields stretched out before her, though now the lines were faded and the goals gone. Springtime exploded around her in patches of color and scents. Birds filled the air with song, and insects flitted about, chasing each other as if they were two children playing a game.

She sighed and clutched her sketchbook closely to her chest, but it wasn't a sad sigh. It was one of contentment, of peace. In all the times she'd come to the fields in the morning, she'd always sat in the bleachers alone. When she'd come with Jonathan, she hadn't felt alone, even though he'd been down there and she'd been here. But this time, she didn't sit by herself. Beside her, Jace sat sprawled out, his legs stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles and resting on the seat in front of him. He leaned back, propped up on his elbows, staring out at the field with a soccer ball to his side.

Clary glanced over at him, watching as the morning light filtered through the sky and landed on his face, making the golden hue of his hair, skin, and eyes appear to glow. He turned to her and furrowed his brow.

"What?" he asked.

Clary smiled. "You're pretty."

He chuckled and shook his head. "You say that as if I don't already know."

She leaned back and over, touching her lips to his. "Even big headed asshats like you deserve to be told every once and a while."

Jace reached around and cupped the back of her neck, holding her to him as he kissed her gently for a little longer. When he released her, he sat up and sighed. He lowered his head and clasped his hands together, hanging them between his knees.

Clary frowned and studied his posture. For several days he'd seemed worried, troubled about something and she couldn't figure out what it was. He'd been fine, proud even, when she'd walked across the stage to accept her diploma a week before, and when she told him of her acceptance to The Art Institute of New York City for the coming fall semester. But as the week wore on, his mood dissipated and he became more and more withdrawn. She'd thought, with all the opportunities being presented to both of them at that time, that he'd seem happier. But he didn't. Something was wrong and she needed to know what it was.

She placed her sketchbook off to her side and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Will you please tell me what's wrong?"

He glanced up and gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Nothing's wrong."

She let her gaze linger, moving from one of his eyes to the other. When he saw her studying him, he closed his eyes and let out a breath, lowering his face into his hands.

"I got an offer," he said before lifting his head to look back at her, unease etched into the lines of his brow.

Clary frowned. "What do you mean?"

He swallowed. "To play soccer, you know, professionally."

Clary gasped and her eyes widened. Jace had been playing for the University for the last two years and always garnered a lot of recognition for his school's soccer program. There had been MLS scouts from all over the states coming to look at him. He was amazing—as he'd always been. He'd seemed nonchalant about the whole thing—on the outside. But Clary knew that playing professionally was always something he'd wanted. A swell of pride rose up inside her and she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's awesome! Why do you look so upset about it? Isn't that what you wanted?"

She felt him nod as his arms tucked around her, then he sighed. "It's in L.A."

Clary stiffened and pulled back, meeting his eyes. "What?"

"The position. It's in Los Angeles."

"Los Angeles, California?" Clary asked, trying to wrap her mind around what he was trying to tell her.

He let out a pained, breathy chuckle. "Yeah, Pippi. The one and only." He scooped up his ball and stood before making his way down the stands.

Clary watched his back for several seconds before following him out to the middle of the field, where he promptly dropped the ball and toed it a few times. Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth, her throat tightening in on itself. As much as she didn't want to entertain the idea of a long distance relationship, she couldn't let her fears overpower his success. He deserved this. He wanted it and she wanted him to have it.

She moved up behind him and stretched her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his back. "This is what you wanted. Your dream."

"Dreams change."

She looked up and moved her hand to his shoulder, tugging against it until he turned to face her, his eyes still downcast. "What's changed? Don't you want it anymore?"

"I do." His eyes met hers. "But I want you more."

Clary swallowed, knowing what he meant, but not wanting to admit it to herself that she wanted him to stay with her instead of going. "You have me. You know that. Nothing's going to change that."

He shook his head and reached up, running his fingers along her jaw. "I can't be without you again. I can't be where you're not. That time—" He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head as if to remove the memories from his mind. "That time almost killed me. I won't do it again."

Clary paused, her mind sorting through all the possibilities available to them. Finally, a thought clicked and the tightening in her throat loosened. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "You don't have to."

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"There are art schools out there. There's even an Art Institute in L.A. I could apply for a transfer. We could go out there together."

"I can't ask you to do that."

Clary reached up and cupped his cheek. "You're not. I want to."

He eyed her carefully. "You'd do that? You'd change all your plans, for me?"

"Being with you is what I want more than anything else. I have no plans without you."

At her words, something behind his gaze changed. An expression wavering between relief, joy, and anxiety overtook his face. And then, finally, resolve. "Are you sure?"

"More sure than I think I've been in a long time."

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air and slapping a big kiss on her lips. "So, we're going to L.A?"

Clary nodded and returned his grin. "We're going to L.A."

.o.O.o.

The next weeks passed in a flurry of activity. Jace was supposed to report for training at the beginning of July, which only gave them a short amount of time to arrange things. During that time span, he also had to fly to Los Angeles to finalize his contract. Luckily, because of the inheritance from Stephen and Celine, he didn't have to worry about money. Playing soccer professionally may have been a dream come true, but the pay sucked.

Clary spent the time he was away going through the process of transferring her enrollment to the Los Angeles campus. It was a pain in the butt, but she knew it would be worth it to stay near him in the long run. Clary got her housing set up and Jace got his. Jocelyn did not like the idea of her going out there at all. Her mama-bear instincts were all in an uproar. She thought being alone out there together would be too much of a temptation to them both. Clary rolled her eyes and reminded her mother that they were both adults, and could make these decisions on their own. Furthermore, if they'd wanted to do—that—they could do it here just as easily. Jocelyn's face had puckered at that statement. Clary figured if she didn't want to hear about it then she shouldn't insinuate things. Simple as that. Although, in the last few days, Clary had noticed a shift in her mother's demeanor. She hadn't seemed so uptight or worried about the prospect of Jace and Clary going away together. Clary didn't know what happened to change her mother's thinking, but she wasn't going to complain.

Boxes lined the walls of Clary's bedroom. She stepped back and surveyed the space, ignoring the pang in her chest at seeing it so empty. As ready as she was to move on, to grow up and "leave the nest" as it were, she would miss this place. The only place that had ever been home to her.

"It's going to be so strange living in this big house without you." Jocelyn's voice came from the doorway behind Clary.

Clary stepped back and joined her mother. "It's going to be weird not being here."

Jocelyn draped her arm over Clary's shoulder and pulled her into her side, a choked gasp escaping from her lips. Clary jerked back and studied her mother's face. A huge grin pulled at her mouth and tears fell from her eyes.

Clary furrowed her brows. "Mom?"

Jocelyn tightened her grip on Clary's shoulders and jerked her head toward the doorway. "Come on. I have something to show you."

"Okay . . ." Clary half-asked, but followed behind her mother anyway.

Jocelyn led her down the stairs and to the front door. When they reached it, Jocelyn pulled Clary into a tight hug. "I love you so much," she whispered.

Clary hugged her mother back, her heart flying with worry. She had no idea what had gotten into Jocelyn. "I love you, too, Mom."

The sound of the door opening brought Clary out of her mother's arms. Jocelyn turned her around and shoved her lightly out onto the porch. Clary's confusion lasted only seconds until her eyes fell on Jace. He stood at the bottom of the steps, his guitar strapped to his back and only the illumination of the full moon casting any light over him.

Clary moved forward and paused at the top step, looking down at him. "What's going on?" she asked. The soft click of the door closing behind her, caused Clary to look back for a moment before she turned to Jace once more, her confusion quadrupling as she peered into his eyes. "Jace?"

He smiled softly and reached up, handing her a miniature sunflower just like the one he'd left for her before. "Can't a guy come and give his girl a flower without an interrogation?"

Clary narrowed her eyes and plucked it from his fingers. "No."

Jace chuckled and slid the guitar from the back to the front, strumming a few chords to test out the tuning. "Jesus, you're impatient. Well, I better get on with it then." His eyes met hers, and in an instant, all of the playfulness left them and was replaced with . . . something else. She didn't know what it was, but the intensity of his gaze caused her heart to pound.

He glanced down at the guitar for a moment, his fingers curled around the neck while the other hand started to move. When the lyrics started to spill from his mouth, he looked back up at Clary, his stare searing straight through her.

And there you stand opened heart—opened doors full of life with the world that's wanting more.
But I can see when the lights start to fade, the day is done and your smile has gone away.

Clary couldn't help the smile that spread over her lips. She knew with absolute certainty she'd never tire of him singing to her. Her throat constricted and she sucked in a shaking breath. His eyes locked with hers, the emotion in them palpable.

Let me raise you up.
Let me be your love.
May I hold you as you fall to sleep?
When the world is closing in and you can't breathe?
May I love you?
May I be your shield?
When no one can be found, may I lay you down?

Tears filled her eyes, but did not fall. Her chest felt so tight, and more than anything, she just wanted to go to him and throw her arms around him.

All I want is to keep you safe from the cold...
To give you all that your heart needs the most.
Let me raise you up.
Let me be your love.
May I hold you as you fall to sleep?
When the world is closing in, and you can't breathe?
May I love you?
May I be your shield?
When no one can be found, may I lay you down?

Jace moved then, coming closer and climbing one stair toward her. Clary's breathing sped.

All that's made me, is all worth trading just to have one moment with you.

He took one more step forward and up.

So I will let go of all that I know, knowing that you're here with me.

And then another.

For your love is changing me.

And then he was there, just one step below her, his face now level with hers. The space between them occupied only by his guitar. He dropped his hands from it and reached into his pocket, his eyes leaving hers for only a moment before meeting them once more and he sang softly without music.

May I hold you as you fall to sleep?

He raised his hand, and between his fingers, he held a small circular object. It took Clary a moment to realize exactly what it was. But when the light of a passing car glinted over the diamond on top, she gasped and raised her hands to cover her mouth.

When the world is closing in and you can't breathe?

She looked up, not able to breathe for real, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. Jace leaned in and carefully took her left hand in his trembling one, his fingers brushing over her skin gently. His gaze met hers.

May I love you?

His eyes studied hers, moving from one to the other.

May I be your shield?

The question was there, in his eyes, in the words he sang, in the ring he held out in front of her, he didn't need to ask it.

When no one can be found may I lay you down?

She bit her lip, tears falling in streams, and with a smile, she nodded. His brows rose slightly, almost as if he had expected a different answer. And then, he slowly slid the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. It felt smooth and cool and perfect against her skin. He moved up the final step, taking her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the wetness from her cheeks as he touched his forehead to hers.

Silence pressed heavy around them, only the sounds of Clary's ragged breathing and the beating of their hearts registered in her ears.

"I take it that was a yes?" he asked.

Clary let out a breathy laugh, threw her arms around his neck, and nodded enthusiastically. "God, yes."

He smiled and pulled her face to him, his kiss burning through her. "Even though I didn't write the lyrics to that song, I meant every word. I promise I'll hold you every night while you sleep, I'll protect you within an inch of my life, and I'll love you with everything I have every single day I live. I'll give you everything you want, everything you need, everything you deserve."

She pulled him closer, raising her hands to his face and cupping his cheeks. His eyes were wide and happy. "You already have."

.o.O.o.

~*~August – one year later~*~

Clary stood in front of the full length mirror, her hands smoothing over the soft chiffon layered over her waist. She took in the floor length dress, the fabric flowing around her, light and airy. Her eyes followed her form, pleased with what they saw. It wasn't too much. Not too fancy, just . . . simple and elegant, just like her. She'd piled her hair loosely atop her head, curls falling freely and cascading down the side of her face and the back of her neck. A small beaded headband curved over the top of her head, holding the sheer veil at the back. Her eyes looked bright against all the white.

The door behind her opened, revealing a weeping Jocelyn, and Isabelle helping her into the room. Clary's smile widened as her mother came toward her and carefully reached out a hand, running her fingers along the edge of Clary's veil.

"You look beautiful, Sweetheart." Jocelyn's voice caught. "So beautiful," she whispered.

Clary felt her eyes tearing up and she waved her hand frantically in front of her face trying to ward the moisture away.

"Hell," Isabelle said and grabbed a tissue from the nearby make up table and handing it to Clary. "Don't mess up your make up yet. You have plenty of time to cry after you realize you're stuck with him forever."

Clary dabbed at her eyes and laughed. Nothing ever changed. Not Isabelle. Not Clary herself. Nothing.

A knock sounded at the door and Simon poked his head in. "Jocelyn, they're calling for you."

"Oh!" Jocelyn grabbed a few tissues, thought better of it, and grabbed the whole box before pulling Clary into a tight hug. "I love you. I'll see you out there."

Clary closed her eyes and hugged Jocelyn back. "I love you, too, Mom."

Isabelle eyed Clary for a moment, her eyes unusually bright before she quickly pecked Clary on the cheek and moved behind Jocelyn. "I'll be out in the hall waiting for you." She stepped up to Simon and kissed him gently on the lips, raising her hand to brush along his cheek before exiting with Jocelyn.

Clary took in a deep breath, trying to hold in the emotion and her nerves for just a little longer.

Simon stepped fully inside the room and closed the door behind him. "You ready to do this? 'Cause you just say the word and we'll be out of here so fast you won't know how you got to where we'd go."

Clary laughed at his jumbled sentence. "I'm more than ready, Simon."

"Okay." He bent down and touched his lips to the top of her head. "You really do look good—you know, for a girl about to attach herself for a lifetime to the king of asshats everywhere." He held out his arm for her.

She beamed up at him and looped her hand through his arm. "You better watch what you say about my—" Her throat closed when she tried to say the word.

Simon chuckled. "See, you can't even say it."

"Shut up." She smacked him in the shoulder. "Let's go."

"Whatever you say." He led her to the door and out into the hall.

Isabelle stood in front of the entrance to the sanctuary, a single white rose in one hand and Clary's bouquet in the other. The long olive, satin dress wrapped around her, hugging her curves and flaring at the bottom. She handed the bouquet to Clary and gave her one last smile before entering the church, walking slowly to the front, the white runner puckering at her feet. Clary drew in a deep breath and took her place next to Simon, her grip on his arm tightening as the crowd stood and peered back at her.

Simon leaned into her and whispered, "Last chance to run. I can have the car out front in thirty seconds."

She looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes and seeing all the love and care he'd always held for her reflected in them. "Take me to him," she said.

He grinned and nodded once, laying his other hand over the one she had placed on his arm and taking the first step over the threshold. Eyes bored into them as they slowly made their way down the aisle. Flashes went off and hushed murmurs sounded from all around her, but the only thing Clary saw was her golden haired groom waiting at the front, his hands clasped carefully in front of him and his eyes glued on her. She saw his lips lift minutely on one side and she couldn't help the slight flush that gathered in her cheeks. After all these years, he still had the ability to make her blush with just the smallest of grins. The pace she and Simon kept was suddenly not speedy enough, and Clary quickened her steps, pulling Simon along with her. Snickers erupted through the crowd, but Clary didn't care. She couldn't get to him fast enough.

When she and Simon reached the front, Jace came down the steps, and took one of her hands gently in his. "In a hurry?" He smirked.

She narrowed her eyes. "We're not even married yet and you're already letting your asseyness show through."

He chuckled. "You . . . God, you're so beautiful." He raised a hand to her face, softly running his fingers over her skin before bending and brushing his lips against her cheek. "You take my breath away," he whispered.

Clary's own breath caught and she closed her eyes briefly before meeting his and smiling shyly. "Okay, you're not an ass."

He returned the gesture and led her up the steps to stand in front of the minister, in front of their family and friends, in front of God himself, so they could all bear witness to the promises they'd make to one another. Clary repeated the words the minister asked her to, and recited the ones she'd written herself. She nearly cried when Jace did the same, and finally did when he slipped the ring on her finger, lifted her hand to kiss it, and whispered, "I do."

She took his hand in her trembling one and moved his ring over the tip of his finger, down over the knuckle to finally rest against the base. And to repeat his gesture, she leaned down, placed her lips against the ring, and said, "I do."

The minister spoke, read a few passages, and music played. As much as Clary wanted to pay attention, to cement every moment into her mind, the only thing she could focus on was Jace's face and how much she loved him. How happy she was in that moment and how long it had been that she'd known he was the one. Maybe even from the first moment she saw him those years ago on the soccer field.

His eyes locked on hers and in them she saw everything she'd ever dreamed of. Safety, comfort, security, love. She didn't need a perfect future, just him, just this, just them.

Finally, the minister announced them and declared Jace could kiss his bride. The entire room fell silent, not a single person moved or baby cried. The moment was perfection, as if it was only the two of them. And for all intents and purposes, it was.

Jace took a step forward, and Clary raised her gaze to his. It seemed an eternity in that one moment, the eternity he'd promised come to life. He raised his hands and carefully placed them on either side of her face, his thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. Clary drew in a trembling breath and brought her hands up to circle his wrists. He leaned into her and just before his lips touched hers, she closed her eyes. The same warmth and softness that always accompanied his kiss engulfed her, filling her with so much emotion she could hardly contain herself.

The eruption of cheers around them barely registered as her husband kissed her for the first time. She wanted it to never end, to just stay there, living inside this bubble for the rest of their lives.

When Jace pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "I love you, Pippi. Always."

She raised her hands to his face and ran her fingers along his cheeks and up into his hair. Her eyes met his. "Take me home, Mr. Wayland."

His grin grew impossibly larger. "Oh, hell yes, Mrs. Wayland." He bent at the knees and scooped her up into his arms, making his way down the steps and the aisle.

Clary laughed and held her hand to her head, trying to keep her veil from falling off. The crowd filed into the aisle behind them and followed them out to the front of the church. Clary tossed the bouquet over her shoulder, not even watching where it landed as Jace placed her gently in the front seat of the car. He leaned down and kissed her once more before tucking her dress inside and shutting the door behind him. Clary rolled down the window and blew a kiss to her mother who was blubbering into Luke's shoulder, then she waved to Isabelle and Simon who stood holding hands and nuzzling near the edge of the crowd. Clary's bouquet lay at Isabelle's feet.

Jace hopped in the driver's seat and promptly took Clary's hand, kissing her ring finger before starting the car and pulling away from the curb. Clary turned and watched as their family and friends spilled into the street, still waving and growing smaller the further they drove down the palm tree lined street.

"So," Jace asked. "What did you think? Was it what you hoped?"

She turned to him and smiled. "Better."

He nodded, and rubbed circles on the top of her hand with his thumb.

The sun had nearly set by the time they reached the apartment they would now share. Boxes of Clary's things still littered the living room and bedroom, but none of those were noticed tonight. They did the cliché "carry over the threshold" thing, because God knew, they needed every bit of good luck they could get given their pasts.

Jace set her down carefully in the middle of the living room and gazed down at her, appraising her like she was something priceless and precious. Clary met his eyes, her heart thrumming in her chest, and moved forward, raising her hands to his suit jacket. A slight shaking was visible in them no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

She traced the black lapels and worked her way up to the white tie around his neck. Slowly, she loosened it and pulled it over his head. Her fingers fell to his face and traced lightly over his brow, down his nose, and over his cheekbones. Jace closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, his skin warm and slightly rough with returning stubble.

Lowering her hands to his shoulders, she slipped them under his jacket and pushed the sleeves off his arms, her fingers memorizing the feel of the lean muscle underneath thin material. With a quiet swish, the jacket fell to a heap on the floor at his feet. As always, the same electricity crackled around them, drawing them nearer in an effort to quell the pull over them.

Jace reached up, his long fingers gentle, and carefully removed the headband and veil from her head. He set it down on the end table nearby and moved his hand back, unclasping the clip holding her hair up. It fell in tumbling waves down her back. The feel of it against her skin caused Clary to shiver. Jace moved a group of red tendrils that had fallen forward over her collarbone and bent down, touching his lips to the bare skin of her shoulder where it met her neck.

Clary closed her eyes and dropped her head, resting it against him while her lips brushed the skin of his neck and her hands worked the buttons on his shirt. One by one, they opened, revealing the beautifully scarred flesh beneath. Her fingers itched to touch him and so she did. Jace touched his forehead to the top of her head and ran his fingers up her neck and into her hair.

Lowering her mouth to his chest, Clary softly kissed along the ridge of his collarbone, untucking the shirt from his pants as she did, letting her hands linger at his newly bare sides. Jace quickly discarded his shirt and reached up to cup Clary's cheeks before pressing his lips to hers. She opened against him, letting him in, allowing him to taste and receiving him in return.

The kiss was the same as always, but better.

His mouth molded to hers, moving with it perfectly. Taking and receiving. They knew each other so well, their mouths, their hands, their hearts.

Clary's fingers explored the expanse of his chest and stomach, feeling all that was hers, finally, all hers. Each dip and groove, every scar and ripple of muscle. Hers.

Jace moved one of his hands up and slowly untied the halter at the back of her neck, threading his fingers up into her hair once more. The fabric fell aimlessly from her, pooling in a white wave at her feet. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out from the middle of her dress, her fingers traveling immediately down his abs to his belt buckle. They worked it for a moment before she had it unclasped and slipping from the loops. It clattered to the floor beside his shirt and jacket. His pants came next and Clary stepped back for a moment to admire him in only a pair of boxer briefs.

She watched as the dying light of the sun stretched over his body, giving it a soft glow as the color slowly faded from the room. "You really are beautiful," she said. "I've always thought that, but now . . . now you just . . ." She met his eyes and repeated his words from earlier. "You take my breath away too."

He let out a slow breath and moved close to her once more, his fingers trailing up her arms and following the curve of her neck before tracing her jaw gently. His gaze lingered on her face, as if he was memorizing every facet of her. Clary trembled under his touch. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Clary closed her eyes for a moment and nodded before opening them again. "I'm nervous," she whispered.

"Me too," he said.

"Really?"

"Mm hmm." His fingers continued to trace the lines of her cheeks. "There's only one first time and I don't want to screw it up."

Clary raised her hands to cover his. "You won't. You couldn't."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you have faith in me. It helps."

She studied him for a moment, still in awe that this man was hers. "Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"You could never screw it up because all I need is for you to love me. That's all. Just . . . love me."

"I do." He leaned forward and brushed his lips along her jaw. "I will. Always."

Clary closed her eyes and draped her arms around his neck, reveling in the feel of his warm skin against hers. Jace slipped his hands down her back, over her backside, and under her thighs, lifting her onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around him, her lips finding his as he walked them back to the bedroom. The door shut quietly behind them as she consumed him, his taste intoxicating her and his hands on her skin causing her to shiver.

She felt him kneel on the bed and gently guide her up until her head hit the pillows. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin. Her hands fisted into his hair as his fingers traced across her stomach. Goosebumps raised on her skin along the trails his touch left.

His mouth found hers once more and she raised herself up on her elbows as he snaked around her back, unclasping her bra and drawing it carefully from her body. A gasp escaped from her throat as his hand drew up her side and cupped her gently, his thumb passing over her sensitive flesh.

Jace kissed her mouth one more time before moving down to her neck, across her collarbone, her chest, and finally ending at her stomach. His fingers hooked into the sides of her panties and slowly drew them down her legs, his lips finding skin to brush all the way down to her ankles. Clary closed her eyes as his hand slid up her calf, over her knee, and down the outside of her thigh, so achingly slow she whimpered.

"Jace."

"Hmm?" he hummed into her skin.

She reached down and tugged his boxers down over his hips. He pulled them the rest of the way off, throwing them to the floor beside the bed. Jace's eyes met hers and he crawled up to her, settling himself on top and supporting his weight with his elbows. His breathing was fast, and Clary could feel his heart beating against her chest.

This was the moment they'd both been waiting so long for. The decision to wait was a difficult one to make, but they'd made it and stuck to it. And now, the wait was over. There were no more barriers, no more time, nothing standing in their way.

Clary reached up and cupped his cheeks, aware of him against her and wanting to feel more. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, her lips lingering against his as she said, "I want to feel you. Please, let me feel you."

He let out a slow breath. Reaching down, he took her hands and laced his fingers with hers. "I'll be careful. I promise I'll be careful, but it—"

"I know," she said, meeting his stare. "It's okay."

He leaned down and touched his lips to hers then pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

"You're not. Not really. I'll be okay. I promise."

He nodded, his forehead still pressed against hers and his breathing increasing once more. After a momentary pause, his grip on her hands tightened and he moved, his breath hitching as he did. And then, she felt him.

Everywhere.

Above her, around her, inside her.

And it felt strange and wonderful and . . . painful.

She gasped against the hurt and squeezed his hands, her own breath catching in her throat. Unwanted tears slipped over the side of her face and he kissed them away, whispering a thousand "I love yous" in her ear. His body trembled above hers and she knew it took an enormous amount of restraint for him to stay still, but he did.

After a bit, the pain lessened and she loosened her grip on his hands, her eyes meeting his. Concern filled his gaze, and she couldn't help but smile. In an effort to assure him she was all right, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him fully against her. His breath came out in a gush, and he lowered his head to her shoulder. She removed her hands from his, stretched one across the expanse of his back, and threaded the other into his hair, holding him flush against her. The pain was almost nonexistent as he started to move again. Jace lifted his face and pressed it to hers, their lips open and touching but not kissing, their breaths intermingling. Clary's heart and body accepted him fully, as if she was made exclusively for him and him for her.

The concept of "becoming one" always sounded so trite and cliché. But now, Clary understood what the saying meant. Nothing stood between them anymore, nothing physical, nothing emotional, nothing spiritual. It was all pleasure and love and fulfillment. He felt strong and safe under her hands. His heart, his soul, his body, hers. All hers. She was protected and cherished in his arms. At the end of the day, that was all that really mattered. Her whole heart, her whole body, her whole soul was loved. She was loved. And she loved in return.

.o.O.o.

~*~March – Five Years Later~*~

Jocelyn's hand encased Clary's as they stood alongside the neatly groomed plot. The gray stone still looked the same as it had nine years prior, if not just a little more worn. Jonathan's name still stood out, stark and bold against the smooth surface of the rock. Clary tightened her grip and Jocelyn's thumb moved over Clary's knuckles.

"I can't believe it's been nine years," Jocelyn said, her eyes glued to the green grass in front of her.

"Me neither." Clary wrapped her arm around her mother's waist and leaned into her. "It still feels like yesterday."

Jocelyn nodded but didn't speak.

Clary knelt down and placed the bundle of flowers they'd brought against the stone, tracing her fingers over his name as she stood. A cool breeze swept through her hair, and she shivered, raising her hands and rubbing them along her arms to ward off the chill.

A single tear trailed down Jocelyn's cheek as a small smile pulled at her lips. "He'd be so happy for you, Clary. So happy."

Clary smiled. "I know. And he'd be happy for you too." She traced her finger over the gold wedding band on Jocelyn's left hand. "He always liked Luke."

"Who wouldn't?" Jocelyn laughed. "Luke's a likable guy."

"That's true." The sun disappeared behind a gray cloud and Clary glanced up, frowning. "It looks like it might rain. We should go."

Jocelyn patted Clary's hand and nodded. They started along the gravel path, neither speaking, but neither needing to. Every year on the anniversary of Jonathan's death, they did the same thing. They'd meet and go to his grave together. Even though she and Jace still lived in L.A., they made it a point to return home for it. Given the early spring date, Jace normally had a practive lull so traveling then worked out quite well for them. Jace and Luke told them over and over that if they wanted, they'd come too, but Jocelyn and Clary always declined. This was something they liked to share together. Sort of a private moment between the two of them.

Luke stood near the cemetery gate as they approached. He reached out and took Jocelyn's hand, before pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head.

"So," Jocelyn said. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Clary hiked her bag up over her shoulder and pushed her hair back out of her face. "Well, Jace went with Max to check out one of the schools on his list so he won't be back until later. I promised Izzy I'd come over and go through napkin samples with her." Clary rolled her eyes. "I swear, this wedding can't be over fast enough."

Jocelyn laughed. "I seem to recall her helping quite a bit with yours."

"Yes, but the difference is, mine was simple. Hers is like a freaking circus!"

"Simon and Isabelle are your best friends, and you're playing the part of best man and matron of honor. Those are some big shoes to fill."

"Yeah, yeah." Clary waved her mother's comment away. "I guess I should get going. I'd like to get a nap in before I'm subjected to more wedding torture." Clary leaned in, first kissing Luke's cheek and then her mother's. She bid them farewell, and turned to head toward her car when she noticed a blonde headed figure seated on the swing at the park next to the cemetery. Grinning to herself, she walked over.

"I thought you wouldn't be back for a few more hours?" she said as she lowered herself onto the swing next to him.

Jace glanced up and grinned. "You want me to leave again and come back later?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. But I figured you and Max would be enjoying yourselves while all those co-eds fawned over you."

"Yeah." He looked up at the sky, a sly smirk affixed to his face. "That was fun." Clary reached out and shoved him. He laughed, grabbed her hips, and pulled her swing over to his, kissing her lightly on the mouth. "Max liked the school. I think maybe this might be the one." He stared at her for a moment, his eyes washing over her face. "You know those girls have nothing on you, Pippi." His fingers swept across her cheek, pushing a chunk of hair behind her ear.

"Still such a sweet talker, aren't you?"

"Mmhmm." He leaned forward and brushed his lips along her jaw.

Clary closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation. "Too bad I know you're full of crap. Especially because I know I look utterly hideous right now."

He peppered kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, and up under her chin. "I think," his lips moved to each corner of her mouth and then rested against hers, "you've never been hotter."

Clary screwed her face up into a disbelieving expression and pulled back. Jace gazed at her, amusement in his eyes. She couldn't hold back a smile. "You're a horrible liar."

Shaking his head, he moved his hands up over her hips and rested them on her waist. "Not lying. You're beautiful."

Clary sighed and reached up to tangle a hand in his golden curls, her thumb brushing over his cheek. "You know you don't have to say things like that to win me. I'm already yours, remember?"

"I remember." He smirked before lowering his head and placing a soft kiss to the rounded protrusion of her swollen belly.

.o.O.o.

~*~May – Two Months Later~*~

It hurt. God, it hurt. Clary's entire body vibrated with pain. The stupid beeping of the monitor next to her made her want to kill something, or at least kick it in the balls. Either would be fine at that point. Just as long as it took her attention away from the agony.

A nurse, about her age, adjusted the drip on Clary's IV and then handed her a cup of ice. Clary wanted nothing to do with it and swatted it out of the nurse's hand. The plastic cup went flying, the cold chips scattering over the floor. The nurse sighed and bent to retrieve what she could, swiping a paper towel against the wetness.

Another pain clenched Clary's abdomen, a low groan escaping her lips. "Where's Jace?" She panted through the hurt. "I want Jace. Where is he?"

"Admissions needed him to fill out some paper work. They'll let him come back once he finishes."

Clary shook her head, tears squeezing from underneath her clenched lids. "No. Now. I need him now."

"It'll only be—"

"No, now!" Clary yelled, thinking she should probably feel bad for going off on the poor girl, but didn't she understand that she was in pain? That they were keeping her only comfort from her? "Please." Her voice came out pathetic and whiney. "I need him."

The nurse's eyes turned understanding and she nodded. "I'll bring him back."

Relief flooded over Clary and she closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing through the pain. She didn't know how long she lay there, panting with each fresh wave of agony, before she felt him enter the room. He reached the side of the bed, his scent wafting around her and comforting her almost instantly. Bending down, he touched his lips to her sweaty forehead. "I'm sorry. Those asshats wouldn't let me back until I dotted all my i's and crossed all my t's."

Despite the building pressure in her abdomen, Clary smiled. She opened her eyes and met his, calmness flooding over her. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her swollen stomach. Just as his skin touched hers, another pain squeezed her tightly and she cried out. Jace lowered his forehead to hers, whispering calming and reassuring words as she breathed. It wouldn't be long now. Even though this was her first time, somehow, she knew. Her body knew what to do, tightening and releasing in the way it was made to.

Soon, the room flooded with doctors and nurses. They busied themselves, some surrounding Clary's bed, fiddling with her monitors and IV, and others readying blankets and clothes. Jace stayed at Clary's side, one hand clutching hers and the other at the back of her head, helping her stay upright.

The pain was different now. It had purpose and she worked with it. She was tired and her legs shook with exhaustion, but she was so close. She could feel it.

"One more, Clary," the doctor said, his eyes meeting hers over the top of his mask after the last pain died away.

Clary nodded and lay back, catching her breath before the buildup began again. Her eyes found Jace's and in them, she saw everything she felt. Fear, anticipation, love. She smiled weakly at him, and turned her face toward him, searching for his lips. He bent and touched his mouth to hers gently, his hand wiping the sweat covered hair from her forehead.

"I love you," she said.

"Always, Pippi."

She closed her eyes as the pressure started to build from the top and traveled down to the bottom, squeezing her entire abdomen into a rock hard mass. Propping herself back up, Jace supported her with his hand once more and she squeezed his other one as she bore down. A satisfying pain swelled inside her, the ache moving down and burning with intense heat as it seared through her. It increased and swelled and intensified until she felt as though she couldn't take another second, and then it was over. The doctor worked furiously under the cover of the sheet draped over her knees and when she heard him say, "A little more, Clary," she gave a little more. The sensation was odd and uncomfortable, but after a few seconds, she was free. Free from pain. Free from anticipation. Free from fear.

Just as she caught her breath, the sweetest sound ripped through the room. A cry. A simple, brief, amazing cry. Tears stung Clary's eyes and spilled over when she heard the tiny voice. Jace's hand tightened on hers and she turned into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Their moment was interrupted by the voice of one of the nurses.

"Do you want to cut the cord, Daddy?"

Jace looked up, his eyes wide and gleaming before meeting Clary's.

She smiled and nodded, urging him forward. He stood and walked with the nurse over to the foot of the bed. She handed him a pair of scissors and pointed out where to cut. He did as he was told, and a moment later, the doctor handed him a wrapping of white blankets. Standing slowly upright, his eyes stayed wide and glued to the squirming bundle in his arms. A small grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, and the tears that had been building in his eyes spilled over his cheeks. Shifting the baby onto one arm, he lifted his other hand and reached out a finger, gently stroking the tiny cheek.

Clary raised her hands to cover her mouth, her own tears clouding her vision. She blinked rapidly against them, wanting nothing more than to see these two beings, the two she loved more than anything else on earth, together for the first time. Jace looked up at her, his mouth stretching into a genuine smile and Clary couldn't help but reciprocate. He moved toward her, his gaze shifting between her and the tiny person he held in his arms. When he reached her side, he said softly, "She's beautiful."

Clary's breath caught. "She?"

He glanced up, smiled once more, and nodded. "She. A girl."

A breathy laugh pushed into Clary's throat and Jace leaned down, kissing her forehead softly and placing the bundle in her waiting arms. Clary looked down and raised her hand to move aside the blanket covering the baby's face. She gasped at what the removal revealed. "Oh my God. It's—"

"Strawberry blonde."

She glanced up at Jace and he grinned.

"A little bit you and a little bit me," he said proudly.

She beamed at him before returning her gaze to the tiny girl in her arms. Her fingers played with the abundance of curls atop her head, and then traced along her perfect porcelain cheek—the exact color of Clary's own. Her eyes took in the pouty shape of her lips, the smooth tiny nose, and wide, expressive eyes, all miniature replicas of her daddy's. "She is beautiful," Clary whispered and looked back at Jace. "She looks exactly like you."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to Clary's head. "Not exactly. She's pale as a ghost, just like you." He gazed at the baby girl for a moment. "God, I hope she has your freckles."

Clary laughed and laid her head against his chest. His arm went around her, his hand resting under their little girl's head. He leaned down and kissed the tiny head and Clary's eyes filled with tears once more.

Moments later, the doctor announced that Jace could take the baby to see their family who waited outside while they tended to Clary. Jace looked at her apprehensively, but she nodded her approval. She handed their daughter back to him and he took her carefully, his body already cocooning around her protectively. She smiled as she watched him walk toward the exit, his eyes always on his little girl's face. He turned back just as he reached the door, gave Clary his signature smirk, and winked. Clary smiled in return and kept her eyes on his back until the door closed behind him. Finally, she lay back in the bed, her body, heart, and mind exhausted, but never having felt better. In that moment, she was content. There was nothing else she could want, nothing else she could ask for, nothing else she could ever need.

.o.O.o.

A loud peel of thunder jolted Clary awake, her heart hammering in her chest as her hand instinctively reached over to the opposite side of the bed, searching for the warmth that usually occupied it, but finding only cool smoothness in its place. She raised her hand, pushing her hair back away from her forehead and taking in a deep breath. Another rumble echoed from ouside her window, the sound conjuring old memories and causing her heart to thud. Sitting up, she stretched her arms over her head and stood.

The bedroom door stood open a crack and she pushed it the rest of the way, stealing silently down the hall. She stopped at the door at the end, her fingers tracing over the plaque her mother had painted as a coming home gift. Abigail Celine. A small smile pulled at her lips.

Nudging the door open with her fingers, Clary peered inside, her eyes landing immediately on Jace. He sat in the rocking chair next to the crib, asleep, with their daughter sprawled across his bare chest. One large hand splayed across her back while the other tucked up under her, keeping her safely swaddled in the curve of his arm. With a grin, Clary tip-toed into the room, stopping only when she reached them and leaned over, pressing her lips softly to Jace's.

His head moved slightly to the side and he opened his eyes. They glanced up at her, hooded and sleepy.

She grinned and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing the tangled mess out of his eyes. "You fell asleep rocking Abby again."

He closed his eyes for a moment and shifted in the chair. It creaked beneath him. "What time is it?"

"Two."

He groaned and stood carefully, trying his hardest not to wake the sleeping baby. As he leaned over the side of the crib, Clary placed her palm against his lower back, watching as he laid their daughter gently onto the mattress, his fingers swiping across her cheek and patting her tummy before pulling back completely. He brought his hands up to his face, rubbing them over it before wrapping one arm around Clary and bringing her to him, kissing the top of her head.

"Come on," she said, leading him from the room by the hand.

He followed, not saying a word. Once they reached their bedroom, he collapsed onto the bed, his hand rising to his hair, running through it as if to lull himself back to sleep. Clary stood over him, looking down.

He glanced up at her. "What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "Just admiring the goods, that's all."

He grinned and held his hand out to her. "Come here."

She returned his smile and climbed up onto the bed, tucking herself into his side, his arm under her shoulders and his hand running through her hair. He sighed and pulled her closer into him, softly humming under his breath.

Clary closed her eyes. "You'd better stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Humming. You know what it does to me."

He chuckled and shifted until he faced her, his head propped up on his hand. Peering down at her, a crooked grin pulled at his lips. "Really?"

She smacked his chest lightly. "You know it does."

He smiled wider and dipped his head down until his lips touched her neck just under her chin and swept along her jaw. "So what happens if I do this?" His fingers trailed up her spine, lightly tracing her skin all the way to her hairline. She gasped as a shiver shook her. With his mouth barely touching, he sang the words into her ear. The same words he'd sung to her years before that had brought them to where they were today.

May I hold you, as you fall to sleep?

When the world is closing in, and you can't breathe.

May I love you?

May I be your shield?

When no one can be found, may I lay you down?

Clary breathed out slowly and reached up to grab his face. "That was really not nice."

He smiled and placed a small kiss to her nose. "Yes it was."

Shaking her head, she pushed against him until his back lay flush to the mattress. She draped her leg over his body and sat up, straddling him. His hands moved to her hips and hers brushed over his chest. Leaning down she placed several kisses along his jaw until she ended at his ear and whispered, "You know, I really shouldn't reward you for that."

"I think maybe you should. Many women would die for their husbands to serenade them." His thumbs traced circles into her flesh.

"Um hmm. And you would know this how?"

"Because I'm very attuned to the wants and needs of those of the female persuasion. You know this, Pippi." His breathing accelerated as she dropped more kisses to his neck and Clary felt his pulse quicken under her lips. She smiled against his skin.

"You're such a cocky bastard."

"Yes. I am. But honestly, would you want me any other way?"

Clary sat up and met his eyes in the dark. They glowed knowingly and she grinned. "Not even a little bit." Her hands came up and gripped his face, pulling against him until he rose to a seated position.

His mouth met hers, and his arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as if he was afraid she'd disappear if he loosened his grip. The feel of his skin against hers ignited all the feelings she'd pushed back over the last six weeks while her body healed. But now, having just been cleared by her doctor that day, she was whole once again and she needed him in the way only she could be with him.

Jace lifted her from him and laid her carefully on her back before settling his body on top of hers. His hands trailed along her cheeks and his lips followed. "You're so incredibly lucky to have married me," he said.

Clary laughed, twisted her hands into his hair, and pulled his mouth back to hers. "God, you're an ass," she said against his lips as she tugged on his shoulders, wanting to feel him closer, needing to feel him closer. He complied, putting nearly all his weight on her and she sighed. His mouth found hers again, taking, giving, tasting, loving. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

Soon, their clothes were gone and their hands were everywhere, grasping, feeling, receiving. So many sensations and pleasures crashed over them as they moved together, completing and absorbing one another. Only the sounds of the rain and their kisses, breathing, and heartbeats filled the otherwise quiet space.

To some, maybe their life wouldn't seem like much. Maybe it would seem boring or cliché or just . . . simple. To Clary, it was anything but. It was more than she'd imagined, more than she'd ever expected. She didn't need riches or fancy things. She just needed him and the love he gave her. She just needed their daughter and the fulfilling feeling it gave to be her mother. She just needed their family and the support and care they gave to them. Possessions and status meant very little to her, and she was okay with being just Clary. Because this life wasn't boring or simple or cliché. It was everything she'd ever hoped for herself. Everything she could have ever wanted. It wasn't without its hardships or pain, but in spite of that, it was—in all of its imperfection—perfect for her.

---

**And they lived . . . not happily ever after, not in a perpetual state of bliss, nor did they ride off into the sunset. They just simply . . . lived. **

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Chapter Songs:

You and Me - Lifehouse

May I - Trading Yesterday

Perfect - Burn Season

**Lyrics to 'May I' belong to Trading Yesterday**