It's not really in the summary, but it's to be expected. I mean, come on. They haven't gotten together in years.

So... this is quite nervewracking cause it's, um, hotter than I used to write. I haven't written fluff in a very long time, and "lemonade" = a first. I hope it's okay.

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He was fuming.

No, not even fuming. The impression of steam pouring out of his ears didn't do enough justice to the wrenching murder call that was currently spewing out from every beat of his heart. He was furious, raging, livid. Practically ripping his jacket off, he hurled it against the coat closet door, the fabric too light to give a satisfactory thrown feeling in his arm.

He settled for punching the wall instead.

"Jesus - " The ripple of fast footsteps came from the kitchen and halted at the opposite end of the very narrow foyer. Jace's head whipped up, eyes grazing past her as she hastily avoided eye contact. "Oh."

Ryan's words echoed in his ears. "Where's Alec?" he bit out.

"Away," Clary replied stiffly. "Everyone's gone."

He resisted the urge to swear. His gaze burned through her as she shifted from foot to foot.

"I'm going back to the kitchen," she said finally, making to turn around. Quicker than she could have ever thought possible, he was grabbing her arm, roughly yanking at it so she was forced to face him again. "What?"

"What are you keeping from me?" It came out as more of a demand than a question.

She tried to pull away. "Nothing - Jace, you're not in your right mind - "

"To hell with my right mind. What are you not telling me?"

"Jace, it's not - "

"God." He suddenly let go of her. "The bastard was right. You really don't trust me."

"It's not that, but - wait, who are you talking about?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Your boyfriend. Significant other. Booty call. Angel, Clary, I don't know, your English wench."

She ignored the insults. "Ryan? Why the hell were you talking to Ryan?"

"I don't know, I was in a bar when all of a sudden he marches up to me, acting like he's the shit - "

"Jace."

"It's true."

"What did you two say?" Her tone was wary.

"We chatted about the American economy verses the English one, then debated the best course the EU should take on Greece's bankruptcy. Jesus, Clary, what do you think we talked about?"

Every girl was supposed to love having two guys fight for her. She absolutely hated it. "How could you even - God, Jace, if that's not the stupidest reason to get into a fight - "

"Oh no, Brian brought up some very interesting points."

"Ryan. And what did he say to you? No, wait, what did you say to him?"

"Nothing permanently scarring, don't you worry. And he just pointed out how open and honest we are with each other. Speaking of which, isn't there something you've been keeping from me?" The anger in his voice was building.

"It isn't something I can just slip into everyday conversation - "

He was suddenly grabbing her wrists and slamming her against the nearest wall, eyes blazing only inches in front of her. Despite their proximity, Clary couldn't focus on anything except the irrational fear that was starting to spread through her veins. Jace looked terrifyingly beautiful. "Stop avoiding the question," he growled, words ghosting into her ears.

"I'm not," she said, working to keep her voice firm.

Jace moved even closer, golden hair mixing with her auburn. "Sure about that?"

His knees pinned her legs to the wall, completely forbidding escape. An icy tingling feeling started to pop painfully in her chest.

"Absolutely."

One of his hands crept down to brush against her hipbone. She looked him straight in the eyes, knowing exactly what they both wanted but fearing what would happen if they allowed it. But when a small smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, her attitude came roaring back with a vengeance. He was not going to win any secrets from her.

She lifted her chin defiantly. "I dare you."

His mouth slanted across hers abruptly and she gave a startled cry - this was not what she had meant - but he silenced her immediately by crushing himself to her. She moaned and Jace grabbed her hip, trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that were currently whispering in his mind. Her fists curled into the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders and tugged, forcing one hand to thud against the wall next to her head so he could brace himself. His tongue traced patterns on the roof of her mouth.

His stance widened involuntarily and she freed her legs from his hold. Wrapping them around his waist she slipped her hands inside his shirt. He shuddered and lifted her up higher, granting himself access to her neck. He bit at the sensitive skin just below her chin and she whimpered, nails lightly scratching down his chest.

"Tell me," he breathed.

"No."

"Dammit, Clary - "

She ducked down to press a firm kiss to his lips, tugging on his hair. He hissed and bit at the slope of neck to her shoulder, tongue smoothing over the redness. He lingered there for a while, skin almost sticky from his attentions. her breath was coming in short gasps and she ached to bring him closer, close enough for her to be swallowed up by his proximity. He looked up at her with hooded eyes and she kissed him hard, his tongue immediately demanding access. It swept across her own and she shivered, feeling a deep groan rumble through his chest. His hair was silky in her fingers and she gave it another tug, gasping as his hips pressed against hers in response.

"You know you shouldn't do that to me," he said, voice surprisingly unsteady. She grinned.

"What, this?" She pulled again, loving the tight curls at the nape of his neck. He moaned, long and low, head falling forward so it rested on her shoulder.

She'd long since figured out that weird quirk of his.

His tongue languidly stroked her collarbone, surprising and hot. "Angel, Jace - "

"You have to tell me," he said, fingertips massaging the pliant skin stretched over her hips.

"I... I can't."

"Why not?" He was now peppering small, drawn-out kisses all over her neck and her head fell back, resting against the wall.

"It's not... you don't want to know, Jace."

He stopped and looked up at her, eyes questioning. She unwrapped her legs from his waist, ignoring his frown, and took a deep breath. Her face was flushed.

"It's really not the right time to tell you - "

"Clary. Just say it."

She bit her lip. "Nathaniel," she finally whispered.

His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"That was his name."

"Whose name?"

There was an extremely long pause as green studied gold. Then -

"The name of our dead son, Jace."