"You really ought to stop doing this," Isabelle said, clasping Simon's hands in one of hers as she poured cool water over the scorch marks that adorned his skin.

"My mother thinks I'm crazy. How am I supposed to explain to her why I can't light the menorah?"

Isabelle gave a light, almost sad sort of smile. "Tell her you're a Christian."

He looked at her, horrified. "Oh my—!" he choked on the last word. "That would be worse than telling her I'm a vampire."

"It's not worth touching objects of faith when you have to come crawling to me each time, begging me to help you."

"I heal fast," he said defensively. "And besides… Raphael said… he said with practice, I could…"

"Simon." There were many detectable emotions in her voice, he recognized, as she said not but his name. Sadness. Pity. Even a little amusement. "I may be young, but I know a few things. Like, if the menorah burns you when you touch it, don't touch it. Duh."

Simon felt his face heat up. "But my mother…"

"You could just tell her."

"Like she'd believe me." He shook his head. "You don't understand."

Isabelle frowned. "You think I didn't have this same conversation with Alec every day for the past five years? It's the same thing."

"Being a vampire is not like being gay, Isabelle. At least some people accept that. Nobody even believes in vampires anymore."

Isabelle snorted. "No one accepts it! Maybe in the mundane world, but in Idris, in the Institutes? Being gay is just… it's weird. Maybe not as bad as becoming a Downworlder, but still."

Simon's hands relaxed into Isabelle's as she bandaged them. He was quiet for a moment, but then he said, "I'm sorry. I really ought to stop doing this."

Isabelle smirked and pulled the bandages tight, making Simon hiss a tiny "ow." Then, she said, "I'm glad you know that. But it's okay. Maybe I like taking care of you."

Simon smiled. "Do you?"

"Yes." She frowned. "But I wish you'd stop hurting yourself."

"Eventually, it won't hurt anymore. I think. I don't know. I'm new at this whole thing. I still remember the days when I didn't know any of this stuff existed."

Isabelle kissed his cheek softly. "Was it easier then?"

"Yes. Of course. It was easier, of course it was easier. All I ever worried about was whether or not the band would do well, or whether or not I'd pass a Spanish test, or whether or not Clary would ever like me. But it's all different, now. I'm not sad; I miss those days, sure, but I don't wish it was like that again. It's more fun to worry about demons than the band or school. And it's definitely more fun to worry about… not Clary."

Isabelle looked at him suspiciously. "So what do you worry about?"

He gave her a look that plainly said, "You know perfectly well what I worry about. Don't fish for compliments." But it slowly changed into a soft smile as he said, "I worry about you."

She softly held the side of his face in one slender, pale hand. She brought him closer to her and lightly kissed his lips. "Don't."

He kissed her again. "Too late."

She kissed him, a faster reaction this time. "This shouldn't happen."

He smirked before kissing her again. "It already has."

After a while, they were both breathing heavily, her onyx eyes looking calmly into his brown ones. She held his bandaged hands in hers. After pressing her lips against each of his palms, she said quietly, "You really ought to stop doing this."

Bleh, random. Hope you liked it, though. They're my second favorite pairing in this universe. Love them. Review?