(************************)

Simon Lewis shivered involuntarily as a cool breeze hit his back, not really feeling the cold at all.

He buried his fists deeper into his windbreaker, glaring up at the rising sun, and began to walk faster.

The vampire teen relaxed considerably when the Institute came into view, foreshadowing the musky street and the littered ground.

He sighed, jogging up the front steps and rapping his knuckles lightly on the door.

Simon thunked his head against the Institute's doors, frowning slightly when he remembered who is girlfriend was living with.

"Jace," he muttered, just as the Institute's doors opened.

"Actually," Isabelle Lightwood scowled and flipped her thick rope of hair over her shoulder. "It's me. Lover boy and Clary are in the Training Room."

Simon gritted his teeth, realizing Clary had probably forgotten about their date.

"Simon?"

Isabelle, he realized, looked worried. It was then he was aware that his canines had sharpened and grown out in his anger.

"Where's the training room?" he demanded.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "You can't come in here," she told him, matter-of-factly.

Simon exhaled swiftly, quickly becoming annoyed with the Shadowhunter girl.

"I'll manage," he told her quietly. Isabelle shrugged, stepping aside so that he could storm in, ignoring the burning sensation that licked at his body like flames.

Simon grimaced, but kept walking.

Tilting his head back, Simon flared his nostrils, following the scent of his girlfriend and her brother.

Cotton and floral soap, lemons, metal, and copper.

Simon ran down the winding halls, sniffing.

He heard them before he reached the Training Room entrance.

"Jace," he heard Clary hiss, as he pressed his ear to the Oak doors. "Pull it out. I have a date to get ready for."

Simon felt a wave of relief wash over him. So she hadn't forgotten.

Wait. Pull it out?

Simon repressed a growl, and listened to hear what Jace was saying.

"Your fault it's in there," he heard Jace mutter. "This freakin' hole is too tight to get it to move."

Simon's mouth fell open. Oh. My. Effin'. God, he thought to himself.

"Jesus Christ, Jace," Clary grunted, as if strained. "It isn't coming out. How in the hell did it manage to fit in there?"

"No..." Simon moaned quietly, sinking to his knees, leaning against the wall. "This can't be happening to me."

"PULL!"

"Dammit. Stuck."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Oh, God...Pull it HARDER!"

Simon rubbed at his face with his hands. When had incest become so popular?

"It's too big!"

"By the Angel, Clary."

Sigh.

"Might as well leave it in here. It's obviously not popping out anytime soon."

Christ.

Simon swallowed, and jerkily got to his feet.

"Hold on tight, Clary."

"Sheesh. When did you get sweat all OVER this thing. It's so slippery."

Simon ripped open the door, blinded by his fury.

"That is IT," he roared. "Our date is cancelled. Since you can't seem to pull that big thing," he sneered at Jace. "Out of whatever the hell you stuck it into."

With that, he turned and ran away.

(*******************************)

Clary and Jace stared at the teenage vampire as he took off.

Jace snorted. "I knew that little piece of shit had issues," he told Clary, removing his hands from the seraph blade, which Clary had, because of her horrible aim, flung into an old, small, hole in the wall, from an incident involving Jace, a boot, and a tube of lipstick.

Clary shook her head and sighed, staring at the helpless sword. "Guess we're going to leave it in here," she told the blond.

Jace nodded, wiping his sweaty hands on a towel.

"What do you think Simon was mad about?" Clary asked her brother, as he took a swig from his water bottle.

Jace raised an eyebrow, giving her a half-shrug. "Horomones?"

Clary gave him a sardonic look, before scowling back down at the seraph blade.

"I still don't get how something that big could fit into something that small."