#malecsanta20

“Love?” Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s neck, soothing his fingers against the nape. “Hardly. Love is too often fleeting. You, however?” He brushes the ghost of a kiss against the corner of Alec’s mouth. “You have always been my greatest weakness.”

Alec kisses Magnus, because it says more than words ever could, because there are no words in any language that he knows which could be enough to express how he feels, how his core is alight and burning hot, how he can’t get close enough without knocking them both over, and even that wouldn’t soothe the ache.

“You didn’t even bring any food with you,” Alec points out, pressing a fleeting kiss to Magnus’ temple, lest he kiss any lower and come away with a shimmer upon his lips. His hands are broad and firm against Magnus’ hips, drawing him close until the ornate buckle of his belt is nestled against Alec’s belly button. He’s slouched, relaxed and calm. 

“An easy fix.” Magnus pecks the very tip of Alec’s nose, grinning easy at the way it scrunches. “What are you in the mood for?” 

“I really want to visit Sky,” Alec sighs, his shoulders drawing up. “I miss their chebureki. I’m craving their chebureki. But I have to file through this paperwork, or the Clave are going to be breathing down my neck.” 

Magnus traces the love rune against the nape of Alec’s neck. “I mean this with every breadth of my soul.” He pulls back, drawn to the mirth that draws Alec’s brow together before staring into hazel eyes which have always held his own gaze with such resolve it’s a wonder he ever questioned them. “Fuck the Clave.”

Alec laughs, hearty and full. Magnus kisses the lines of his eyes, warmth cloaking him like a homemade blanket. This, right here. This is all he needs. 

“Is that a proposition? I think I have a form somewhere for interdepartmental relationships, I’d be happy to sign it for you.”

Alec feigns to pull away, his hands falling to his sides. Before he can even turn his body, Magnus takes both of Alec’s hands in his own, kissing the space on his ring finger above his wedding band and the ridges of his knuckles while the other intertwines their fingers, squeezing tight and holding their joined hands against his heart - or, rather, a rough estimation of where his heart is, hidden beneath his unbuttoned silk shirt and floral blazer. 

“Burn it.” Magnus insists, resting his chin on the back of Alec’s hand, still held tight within his own. “Or shred it. Do you have a paper shredder? We can start a recycling plan! Saving the planet is really something the Clave should care about. Maybe they can investigate that, and then while they’re busy saving the world - I know that you Shadowhunters love that - we can steal away and pretend you never insinuated that I would ever break our sacred marriage vows for the Clave.”

Alec leans back, tapping the side of Magnus’ sleek ankle boots. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even joked about it.” 

“I wouldn’t break our vows for anything.” Magnus pulls a face. “Suggesting I would do it for the Clave is just insulting, Alexander. I have far better taste than that.”

“Is that so?”

Magnus hums, turning Alec’s hand to kiss down his wrist. “I’m pretty sure I have a certificate somewhere that proves it.” He murmurs, tilting his head into the cup of Alec’s palm against his cheek. “Unless that’s how you tested out your paper shredder? We haven’t cleared up whether it exists yet.” 

“Your environmental concerns are heard and are being considered by the Inquisitor at present” Alec teases, before adding. “I’m pretty sure that Aline has a paper shredder in her office. It’s definitely the kind of thing that Helen would have gifted. Probably wrapped in a bow, too.”

“That does sound like our Helen.” Magnus steps forward into the gap of Alec’s thighs. “I’m afraid that all I am hearing is that there is in fact no reason why you can’t take an extended lunch break.” He leans forward, teasing a kiss along the cut of Alec’s jaw. “Perhaps we can even enjoy it in the comfort of our own home.” 

They would have, Alec prepared with a half-hearted protest that Magnus would just as quickly swallow, bending the pretence of Alec’s revolve before whisking them away in a portal that would have to be created on the balcony to protect the furniture. They would have enjoyed a lovely meal, and each other’s company, and Magnus would have sent Alec back with a sweet kiss and a promise of reservations for some late night ponchiki, conveniently forgetting to mention that he’s missed a button of his shirt. 

Unfortunately, none of that happened. 

“Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane? High Warlock Lightwood-Bane?” 

Magnus rolls his eyes and steps away from Alec, although his hand skims Alec’s hip. The shadowhunter at the door seems familiar … Montclair something, maybe … yes, Eva Montclair. A sort of glorified P.A for various members of the Clave. Her sudden appearance in Alec’s doorway is not a terrible thing by nature, but Magnus has a feeling given the tightness of her knuckles around the hilt of her seraph blade that it is not good news that she couriers this time. 

Eva inhales deeply, her shoulders curled in defensively. “I was told to come and tell you both immediately, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything.” 

“What’s wrong, Eva?” Alec asks, kind but firm.

“There’s been an instance near Piccadilly. A warlock appears to have recently come into their powers and is struggling with gaining control over them. The Head of the London Institute called them ‘rogue’, but I personally don’t think that’s fair. From the descriptions received all the magic seems to be defensive rather than offensive. The High Warlock there is currently unavailable but suggested that you, Mr. Lightwood-Bane, would be a … ‘fitting substitute’ in his absence?”

Magnus fixes a pleasant smile even as a laugh hiccups in the back of his throat. Ragnor truly says the kindest things. “If this is as you describe, Eva, I’m sure there won’t be any further problems.”

“Please alert the London Institute that we are on our way.” Alec requests. “And please make it clear to them that they are under no circumstances to harm the young warlock. This is no longer any of their concern.”

The hint of a smile toys at the corner of Eva’s mouth, and it’s then that Magnus remembers that she’s married to a warlock herself, and in fact he has met Mars on a few occasions as part of the Downworlder council. Small world. 

“Absolutely.” Eva nods, curtly, and ducks out of the room. 

Magnus nods towards the balcony doors. “Portal?”

Alec sighs, reaching for Magnus’ hand. “This has to be the fifth call this year alone. I’m starting to think those pamphlets aren't working.”

The balcony doors swing open with a flick of Magnus’ hand. 

“Maybe the Institute Heads are just environmentally conscious.”

---

“Angels,” Alec whispers, when they come through the other side of the portal onto a wet cobblestone side-street, the air heavy with unshed rain. “They’re so young.”

The warlock couldn’t possibly be older than eighteen. Their torn jeans are stuffed into worn and muddy old boots, their denim vest is missing sleeves, torn at the shoulder, and the faded band tank underneath looks far too thin for a London evening. Thin, white lines stand out against brown skin, forming stars on their arms like tattoos of varying size, a mark unlike any that Alec has ever seen before and given the slight furrow to Magnus’ brow, it’s not a common one. Their hair is cropped short and pink, which could be a warlock mark, although Alec has his doubts. 

“Their mark is glowing.” Magnus comments. “It pulses, see. It’s directly connected to their magic.”

“Is that unusual?” Alec asks, casting an eye around for anything to gain the warlock’s attention without spooking them. “Your eyes glow.”

Magnus drops his glamour. A point is being made, but it isn’t Alec’s. “The pulse is frantic, like their magic, their emotions. Their powers are so new that they haven’t figured out how to control any of it yet. Warlock marks, although rare, do sometimes come with the magic itself. That’s a lot to discover about yourself at once. No wonder they look so frightened, poor dear.”

Alec’s throat tightens when the warlock grips their head and folds over. “We have to help them. I don’t even know how but … we have to help them.”

Magnus grips the back of Alec’s neck, turning him until they’re facing each other. “We will.” Magnus says, firm but kind. “We are their best hope right now, Alexander, and we will help them.” He grazes his thumb along the column of Alec’s nape. “We’re good at this.”

Alec nods, rolling his shoulders back as Magnus’ hand falls away. Magnus gestures and Alec follows his gaze, towards a portable store sign advertising 25% off coats and knitwear - it’s not terribly wide or tall, but if he’s careful he should be able to hide behind it, if temporarily. The last thing they need is for the warlock to feel as though they’ve been trapped, so letting Magnus talk first and providing support without being obvious about it is their best chance at this point in time. 

The first time they talked a warlock down Alec had gotten his eyebrows singed off for getting too close, too fast. 

“Excuse me?” Magnus has procured a coat, probably from the store behind Alec, his hands shoved into the pockets. 

To the unassuming eye, he probably appears to be a concerned citizen, his eyes glamoured once more, although there is an undeniable electricity to him that couldn’t be mistaken by those who know for a thunderstorm. There is a chance that the warlock, although presumably new to their powers, will be able to sense it as well. If that’s the case, their reaction is anyone’s guess. Alec tightens his grip on his bow.

“I’m Magnus Bane.” The warlock glances up with lightning speed, their arms wound tightly around their chest, as though doing so would keep everything in place. Alec is familiar with the feeling. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I’m like you, see?”

Magnus must have dropped his glamour, for the warlock takes a step back, but they lose some of the tension around their shoulders. “May I ask for your name?” He asks, rocking back on his heels.

The warlock hesitates, the stars on their arms pulsing even faster. “Nova.” They say, after what feels to be an hour. Alec lets out a heavy breath and relaxes onto his haunches. This is good. 

“Hello, Nova.” Magnus flattens his palm against his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions? You don’t have to answer any that make you uncomfortable. My only motivation is helping you if I can.”

“What makes you think that you can help me?” Nova spits out. They’re shaking. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me. The other day I was fine, I was normal and then I woke up yesterday and I have these weird tattoos on my arm and today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts - and none of it makes any sense! None of it!” 

Magnus takes a lone step forward, but Nova doesn’t appear to notice. Alec feels a chill crawl down his spine. “You don’t know me, so what I’m about to ask of you probably goes against every instinct you have. Nova, I need you to trust me.”

“Why?”

Magnus takes another step. The hairs on the back of Alec’s neck stand to attention. “Because I’ve been where you are.” Magnus explains. “Lost. Confused. Angry. I was a child when I discovered my magic, what I could do with it. I didn’t have anybody to help me, and I always vowed that I wouldn’t let that happen to others, if I could help it. I want to help you.”

“What am I?” Nova furiously shakes their head, gripping at their elbows so tight little pinpricks of blood skate down their arms. “Why is this happening to me?”

“I prefer to call myself a warlock. Many of us do.” Magnus explains. He holds out his palm, letting a blue flame collect in the centre. “You can refer to yourself however you like. You can just be Nova, and nothing more, if you want.”

“But the magic … that won’t go away?”

Magnus shakes his head. “No. Take my word for it, you will only cause yourself more harm if you try. It’s not all bad.” The flame in Magnus’ hand turns into a cupcake, with a small sugary rainbow on top of the cream white frosting. “Once you learn how to control it, the things you’ll be able to do are incredible.”

“I lost a mug.” Nova laughs, a fragile thing. “It’s so stupid. I just threw it at the wall, but it didn’t smash or anything it just … disappeared. I looked for hours. It’s not even important, it was a quid or something but it … it’s gone. I did that. I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me. What if - what if I do that to somebody? Make them … disappear.” 

“I don’t think so.” Magnus is a few feet away now if that. “The kind of power that takes is … astronomical, not to mention the technical restraint. The worst you might do is cause some minor injuries, but even that is rare.”

Nova’s stars are glowing steadily. “Have you ever made someone disappear?”

“Not without the intent to do so.”

The answer seems to appease Nova. Alec stays hunched down, it doesn’t look like Magnus needs his support, although it would be nice to stretch his back soon, although he still trains from time to time, he isn’t exactly as young as he used to be. 

“Magnus Bane. Step away from the rogue warlock at once. This is no longer an issue for the Downworlder Council to handle, this has become an Institute matter and will thus be handled by Shadowhunters. Your services have not proven useful, and this warlock must be subdued before any harm is caused.” 

The electricity in the air gets sharper. Alec hesitates but eventually rises slowly from his crouched position. He catches the minute the Institute Head, Stephen Highsmith, sees him and the flood of blood to his cheeks and forehead. A second later, his head whips towards Nova, who is clutching at their head, their wide eyes caught between the three of them. Alec doesn’t have the time to search for the Shadowhunters positioned around them, knows on instinct that they’re surrounded, that the only way out is through talking and, if that fails, a little violent liberty. 

“The warlock is a child.” He states, stalking out from behind the sign. He grips his bow tight and positions himself diagonally from Magnus, firm in his defence. “Surely you have higher morals than that, Stephen.”

Highsmith, a weasely man riding the coattails of his family name, sneers and draws his seraph blade. He’d never been too good as a Shadowhunter, from all accounts, but power is a currency and money talks. “It was very honourable of you to leave your post and flock to my streets, Inquisitor Lightwood, but I’m afraid your presence is simply not necessary. My men and I have it handled.”

“I’m sure you’re very capable of handling precarious situations, Mr. Highsmith.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Magnus’ mouth. “However, as High Warlock Fell is currently out of the country and has given permission for Alexander and myself to fulfil his duties in his place, I do believe it is a case best left to us. We don’t intend to intrude upon your delicate sensibilities, I’m sure you’re a very busy man who has much better things to do than to waste your time on such a small affair.”

“For the record.” Alec smiles with no heart. “It’s Lightwood-Bane. A simple mistake, I’m sure, but an important thing to rectify. Names carry a lot of importance and weight, you know.”

Highsmith splutters. “I do not have time for this!”

“Neither do we.” Magnus stalks closer, until he’s within arms distance from Highsmith. Alec inches closer to Nova, now bent over with their palms pressed against their eyelids. “This is a matter for the Downworlder council, and as it’s representatives, we will take care of it. The longer you argue and fight with us over this, however, the longer it will take until we are out of your hair.”

The back of Alec’s neck prickles with heat. Magnus continues to admonish Highsmith. “Neither Alexander nor I will budge until Nova is safe. Believe me when I tell you that there is nobody more equipped to handle this than us, and if you don’t take your leave quietly and with what little grace you can summon, you will be responsible for whatever harm or damage is caused.”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Highsmith’s face is blotchy and red. 

“Quite easily.” Magnus twists his fingers, a white-hot blast landing at Highsmith’s feet. His shoes turn into fluffy bunny slippers. The ears flop when he pounds his feet. “Respect is earnt, Mr. Highsmith, and quite frankly you have done nothing worth receiving mine.”

A low muttering draws Alec’s attention. Nova has sunk onto their knees, the heel of their palms digging into their eyes. Alec quietly side-steps closer, holding his bow behind his back so as not to terrify Nova even more. 

“I just want to go home. I just want this all to end. I want to go home.”

Alec sneaks a glance towards Magnus, still holding defence against Highsmith, who has acquired shocking green hair and a yellow high-visibility vest alongside the bunny slippers. Perhaps it won’t go as smoothly as if Magnus were the one talking Nova down, he can connect with them in a way Alec never would, but he can offer support - just as long as he can calm Nova down, draw them away from the conflict, that’s all … then they can dismiss Highsmith because there would be no ‘warlock problem’ and Nova’s safety and comfort could once again take priority. 

“Nova?” Alec crouches down, rocking back on his heels. “My name is Alec. I’m a friend of Magnus’. We’re going to do our best to get you home, okay?” 

Nova starts rocking back and forth. Their tattoos glow brighter than before, a luminescent blue that pricks at the back of Alec’s eyes. “I want to go home.” They continue to murmur, in a voice that takes on a warbled effect, as though they were speaking underwater. “I just want to go home.”

“Where do you live?” Alec asks. “Do you live in London?”

Nova falls to their knees. In the distance, Alec hears Magnus’ tone getting sharper, although he can’t make out exactly what is being said, it doesn’t fill him with much confidence that a productive conversation is being had. Nova keeps rocking, folded over into themselves. Blood streaks down their forearms, small droplets collecting behind their ears from where their fingers had dug into their scalp. 

“Enough is enough!” Highsmith shouts. Shadowhunters spill out from the dark, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons, seraph blades and a few staves, the odd throwing star attached at the hip. Archers are scattered across the rooftops around them, arrows notched and aimed. 

“Highsmith.” Magnus’ hands crackle as blue flame licks at his fingertips, wrapping around his arms. “I’ve made an attempt at civility, but you are clearly not interested in politics. Fine. Take this as a warning. Recall your soldiers. Stand down. I cannot guarantee everyone’s safety if you do not heed this warning, and the dangerous consequences your refusal could inflict are limitless. This young warlock is frightened. Let us look after them, and I assure you, nobody will get hurt.”

“I have had enough of your whining.” Highsmith spits. “This is now Shadowhunter business. Perhaps a few days in a cold cell will teach this young warlock how to control their powers.”

It all happens in a flash. Literally, an actual flash. 

Alec rushes forward to protect Nova, futile as it might be, his bow poised towards the nearest threat - a Shadowhunter only a few feet away with a seraph blade drawn and pointed at the back of Nova’s head. A static roaring fills his ears, but he pushes through, hardly aware of his own body as an arrow is sent flying into the Shadowhunter’s shoulder. His skin starts to prick and burn, from his hands up to his neck and rushing down to his ankles like a wildfire coursing through a forest. His heart beats in tune with Nova’s words, I want to go home, thud thud thud thud thud. 

Alec shuts his eyes against a luminescent white light, stumbling as the ground falls out from beneath him and an echo calls out for him, a desperate plea of his name shouted underwater.

Magnus? 

I just want to go home. 

---

Alexander? Alexander!

---

The air smells like metal and thunderstorms. Magnus whirls on his heel, angry tears racing down his cheeks. Hell, hath no fury like a warlock scorned. 

“Listen to me you weasely git.” Magnus spits. “I’m done playing civil. My husband is missing because you wanted to play hero for the first time in your poor, forsaken life. Sad you never got to play soldiers with the big boys? Well, guess it’s your lucky day. I am going to take Nova with me back to Alicante, and while I’m there, I’m going to ensure that my lovely friend Consul Penhallow is updated with everything that occurred here today. Unfortunately for you, her wife has family in the area, some of whom I am sure wouldn’t mind stepping up to keep an eye on you. I’ve seen how you conduct yourself, and if it is any indication of how your Institute is run, I guarantee it is not a position that you will retain for much longer.”

Magnus raises a hand. The Shadowhunters flanking Highsmith sheath their weapons. “Withdraw your forces and go slinking back. This is not a request. You did not heed my warning, but you will weather the consequences.” 

He turns, uninterested in sparring Highsmith another second of his time. Magnus didn’t see the flash, but he recognised the sign of a portal, although … there’s something about this one that is bugging him. 

Today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts … I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me … what if I do that to somebody? Make them disappear? 

“Fuck.” 

Nova is sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at their hands as though they’re something alien. Magnus collapses in front of them, a mirror-reflection. They’re shaking, tremors like the ground before an earthquake. 

The earthquake has come. This is the aftershock. 

“I don’t know what happened.” Nova whispers, harshly. “I just wanted everything to stop. I kept wishing that I could go home, and everything got really muffled, like I was wrapped in cotton or something, but I was still here and there was so much noise, so much shouting and I was so scared-”

“Might I reach for your hand?” Magnus asks. Nova glances up, their cheeks stained with dried tears. They nod, wordlessly. Magnus turns their palms over, tracing the lines with his fingers where they glow intermittently, as though a light was shining from beneath their skin. 

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” Magnus’ smile is a little thin, a little bittersweet. “Not at you. I know that Alexander is okay, wherever he is, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Nova shakes their head. “He could be dead, I could have-”

“You didn’t.” Magnus assures them. “I would know if he was, as sure as you knew when your magic appeared. Which, if I recall correctly, you said was behaving volatile today?”

Nova’s fingers curl against Magnus’. “That flash. I felt like an exposed wire. I felt…” Nova frowns. “Right as it happened, I felt really calm all of a sudden, but also … like my magic? I guess? Was being pulled out of me. I wasn’t scared anymore, though, I felt … comforted. Safe? But then I opened my eyes, and everything was the same, and all that fear came flooding back.”

Jagged pieces are coming together in Magnus’ mind. It’s a working theory, and a weak one at that, but it’s something and that’s enough for him to cling onto, to keep his sanity. 

“Nova. I don’t mean to pressure you, so please do not take it that way, you are of course free to go wherever you please - I promise the Shadowhunters, the lot dressed in all black with their pointy egos, won’t cause you any harm, but … if you’re willing, I could use your help.”

“My help?”

Magnus wicks a portal into existence. The wind around them picks up leaves and twigs but in the little bubble he creates for them, they are safe. “This is a portal. I sort of invented them. I have a feeling that what you did is not all that dissimilar, but I need your help to figure that out. I hope that I’ll be able to help you better understand your own powers, and get my husband back, but only if it is something you are comfortable with.”

Nova stares at the portal in wonder. They nod, hesitant at first and then firmer with every movement. “Whatever happened … it was my fault. I know you don’t blame me, somehow, but if I can help … I have to. You and your husband were willing to do anything to help me, it’s the least I can do.”

“It only takes a word, if at any point you want to bow out, or you don’t feel comfortable or safe, your commitment ends. There’s no obligation here, okay?”

Nova nods. Magnus stands gingerly, wiping the dirt of the back of his pants and extending a hand to help pull them up. “You’ll need to keep tight hold of my hand.” He instructs. “Don’t let go until I say it’s safe, otherwise I could lose you too.”

Nova squeezes Magnus’ hand. “We’ll find him.” They promise.

“Of course, we will.” Magnus smiles, wishing he could even half-convince himself. 

---

Alec focuses his landing on the balls of his feet, leaning back to distribute his weight to his heels to cushion the impact. It’s fortunate that, despite the length of time he’s spent behind a desk instead of in the field, he’s managed to keep up with his training. That fall could have wiped him out. 

He takes a few seconds to focus on what he can hear, smell, see; the floor beneath him is a dark mahogany, freshly polished, the sunlight leaking in from the north facing window between drawn burgundy curtains. Outside the window echoes a busy street, tolling bells and warm chatter and … horses? 

“Quite a grand entrance. Most people just use the doorbell.”  

The voice, familiar in the wrong ways, sweeps under his feet and knocks him backwards, scattered along the floor. It’s only magic, which he recognises beneath its coldness, that saves him from knocking over a beautiful porcelain vase sat precariously atop an equally beautiful, engraved end table. 

“Then again, I’m not sure I would have invited a Shadowhunter into my home.” 

The voice belongs to Magnus, but he is … not himself. At least not the one that Alec knows. It’s rather like seeing a distorted mirror image for all that stands out to him as wrong. 

The hardened glaze of Magnus’ glamoured eyes. The sneer of his mouth. The white of his knuckles curled around the top of a hardback novel. The muted colours, from his hair to his makeup-free face, to the dark pants with thin silver lines and matching suspenders over a plain black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The line of his body along the gilded lounge is carefully constructed to suggest a nonchalance which is betrayed by the tension Alec can see in the rigidity of his limbs; he’s poised to attack. 

This is not the Magnus that Alec recognises, this is a stranger with his husband’s face, his history, and his memories but not his present - or, rather, as Alec is quickly coming to suspect, his future. 

“I’m sorry.” Alec tries to stand up, but as soon as his hands touch the floor, they become stuck, as though someone has glued them to the wood. His feet too are rooted in place. 

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologise. It’s not as though you barged into my home, my private sanctuary, with no warning.” Magnus purses his lips. “You did not pull a weapon on me. I will admit that is a nice change.”

Alec can’t feel along his back for his quiver, but he’s fairly certain his weapons hadn’t travelled with him. Magnus had cloaked them to appear when he needed them, but it’s unlikely they were spelled in preparation for a situation such as this. Not that he is 100% clear on what this even is. 

“Who are you?” Magnus waves a hand dismissively. “Please don’t say ‘Shadowhunter’, I am quite aware of that much, even if your runes weren’t visible only child soldiers hold themselves with such rigid arrogance. I will concede the outfit is quite out of the ordinary, however.”

Alec clears his throat. He has to be delicate about this. “My name is Alexander.” He shifts his weight and draws his shoulders in as best he can. “Alexander L-uh, Wayland. Alexander Wayland.”

Smooth.

Magnus hums, folding his book and letting it fall onto the glass table in front of him. “I had suspected for a fleeting moment that you might have been a Lightwood. No matter.” He elegantly sweeps his legs over until both are flat on the ground, his hands clasped between his knees as he leans forward with a seamless, lethal grace. “The real question I need an answer to would be how a lanky Nephilim such as yourself made it past my wards to crash into the very room in which I had been trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. London isn’t exactly known for such these days.”

“London?” Alec echoes, without quite thinking much of it. 

Despite his foolish hope that he might have been wrong, the evidence was insurmountable and quite literally staring him in the face - however it might have happened, when he’d moved towards Nova he’d been sent falling and inevitably crashing into 1884. Magnus had only stayed in London for a year, hadn’t been back since, and Alec has seen the photos of him, Ragnor and Camille, recognises the darkness in Magnus’ gaze as when he first talked about Camille, and how she had torn him to pieces, discarding him without a thought after she was no longer satisfied with him. 

“Magnus, Archibald has two extra tickets for tonight’s - oh. I do not recall you informing me that you were intending on having company for the night.” 

A tall, slender blonde man hovers in the doorway, staring at Alec with equal parts vague intrigue and thinly veiled distaste. Everything about him exudes taste and elegance, but there is a familiarity to his features that itches at the back of Alec’s mind. He knows the man’s face, has never met him, he doesn’t think, but knows him in the distant way that one knows legends and heroes.  

“The tickets are all yours, Woolsey.” Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off Alec. “I am afraid it appears I will be a little preoccupied, I have some unexpected business to take care off. Enjoy the play on my behalf.”  

Woolsey Scott. The founder of the Praetor Lupus. 

This isn’t funny anymore. 

“Of course.” The corner of Woolsey’s mouth ticks up. None of the documentation around him could have ever come close to capturing the real thing. Magnus had mentioned him a few times, off handed, but Alec can see how they would have gotten along. “Don’t wait up, my dear. I certainly won’t be.”

Just as quickly as he had come sweeping in, Woolsey is gone, and Alec is left to sit glued to the floor while Magnus picks him apart by gaze alone. After a few uncomfortable minutes where the distant ticking of a grandfather stirs Alec a little mad, a chair slides across the polished floor, coming to a stop seamlessly next to Alec. The magic around his hands and feet disappear. He can wiggle his toes again. 

“I kindly suggest that you take a seat.” Magnus states in a tone that leaves no room for a refusal. “I have a few questions that need answering.”

Most of you should know the drill by now. The list is in alphabetical order. The easiest way to find whom your secret santa was, is by hitting Crl+F and then search for your own Tumblr name :D

@aceon-ice made a gift for art-in-the-sunlight - gift here

@adaline-blooms made a gift for tobythewise - gift here

@adhdposterchildoftheyear made a gift for liminalmess - gift here

@antisocial-af made a gift for magnus-the-maqnificent - gift here

@arialerendeair made a gift for sivan325 - gift here

@arsistiel made a gift for starsdahb - gift here

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Go forth and tacklehug your no-longer-secret santa! They definitely deserve some loving!

Alec is about to hang up when Izzy’s voice changes.

“And Alec, be careful,” she says, voice sounding unsettled. “It sounded bad. I don’t think it was just demons.”

“I’ll be careful Iz,” he murmurs, “promise.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies, “I’ll meet you there.”

When Alec hangs up Magnus sends him a small smile. “Off to save the world on your day off?”

Alec huffs a small laugh, unsheathing his seraph blade, “demons don’t take a day off.”

“Portal?” Magnus asks, already summoning magic to his fingertips.

“Actually,” Alec says, “would you come with? Iz said it wasn’t good.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, sweeping his hands down and creating a portal. “Darling, if you thought I was going to let you walk into a patrol gone wrong without backup, you don’t know me well enough.”

Alec laughs, grabbing Magnus’ wrist as he steps though the portal.

The laugh quickly dies in his throat when they step out into chaos.

The street is flooded with screams of pain and writhing Shadowhunters. It is unlike anything Alec has ever seen before. None of the patrol is left standing.

Alec hurries closer, Magnus on his heels. He kneels down next to Dominic, the patrol lead, Magnus doing the same on his other side.

“What the hell happened?” Alec demands while Magnus places a hand onto Dominic’s chest to try and heal him.

“Ambushed,” Dominic gets out between pained groans, “a warlock.”

Shit. A rogue warlock willing and strong enough to take out an entire team of Shadowhunters did not bode well for them.

Alec sees Magnus’ hands still at Dominic’s words. When Alec meets his eyes there’s something he can’t quite read warring there.

“It’s poison,” Magnus says, voice ragged. He gets to his feet, taking several steps away from Dominic’s body.

Are you sure? Alec starts to ask but cuts himself off when he sees genuine fear flit across Magnus’ face for a brief second.

He wants to reach out to Magnus, to do something to reassure him, but Alec doesn’t know what the hell is going on here and if this is poison, they likely don’t have the time for comfort.

“Do you remember anything about the warlock?” Alec asks, turning away from Magnus with some difficulty, “defining features.”

“Tattoos up his arm,” Dominic gasps out, “slight Italian accent.”

Magnus freezes again, voice hard when he speaks, “Angelo. The bastard. He’s banned from the Western Hemisphere.”

“We need to find him,” Alec says.

Magnus shakes his head, “We need to get these people back to the Institute first. This poison,” he falters, “it’s slow acting but extremely painful and dangerous. We need the antidote. Quickly.”

***

Even once Izzy arrives with backup, it takes them a good half hour to drag the entire patrol through a portal to the Institute infirmary.

Alec stands in the hall outside the infirmary, arms crossed, watching his Shadowhunters writhe on the beds. Medical staff flits from bed to bed but they are of little use. If this is poison like Magnus had said, the only thing that is going to help them is the antidote.

Magnus is pacing the hall Alec is standing in, on the phone with Catarina. Alec tries not to eavesdrop, but Magnus has seemed off since they found the patrol.

“I thought I’d gotten rid of it,” Magnus was muttering down the line, hands gesturing wildly, “I know—I—yes, I have everything at the loft. But—“ Magnus cuts himself off when he sees Alec watching him.

There’s a split second where Alec thinks about looking away and pretending he wasn’t listening. He doesn’t.

“Just go to the loft,” Magnus says into the phone, hanging up and then looking at Alec carefully.

Alec takes a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

Something flashes across Magnus’ face, too fleeting for Alec to understand what it means. He doesn’t answer the question.

“Cat is on her way to the loft,” he says instead. “We have the ingredients to prepare the antidote for the patrol. But we need to find Angelo. There’s a good amount of hideouts he could be squatting at—“

“Give me the locations,” Alec cuts him off.

This is a deflection method Alec has grown used to from Magnus. He starts moving a thousand miles a minute and doesn’t stop for air. Alec isn’t sure why this is hitting Magnus so close to home, but it obviously is.

“Alexander,” Magnus starts and then trails off. His voice loses some of the tension it had when he says Alec’s name but he still looks wound tight, fingers rubbing together absently.

“Magnus, you can’t do two things at once,” Alec says gently. He wants to reach out and still Magnus’ hands, to twine their fingers together and ask Magbus if he’s okay and get an honest answer. He knows that won’t happen though. “I’ll call you when we locate him. I promise,” he says instead.

Magnus seems to deflate just a little bit and nods. “Okay,” he snaps his fingers and a paper appears in his hand. He hands it to Alec.

***

Alec puts the whole Institute to work with the list of locations Magnus had given him so he’s not surprised when it only takes them a couple of hours to locate Angelo.

“We’re pretty sure he’s at the safehouse in Queens,” Izzy says, sidling up beside Alec and handing him the paper with Magnus’ list.

Alec takes the paper, folding it and putting it in his pocket. He can’t get Magnus’ panic out of his head.

He almost wants to just put together a team and go get Angelo himself, but he’d promised Magnus he’d call him. And from the way Magnus had said Angelo’s name, it seems they know each other quite well. Logically, Magnus is the only one of them who knows what they might be walking into. Despite that, Alec still wants to protect him.

He sighs and pulls out his phone, “Start getting a team together,” he tells Izzy, “I’m going to call Magnus and let him know.”

“Alexander.” Magnus’ voice sounds distracted when he answers the phone.

“We found him,” Alec says, “he’s still in New York. Queens.”

Alec hears Magnus put something down on the other line, “Of course he is. The man’s always been dramatic. He’s probably waiting for a fight.”

So Alec had been right. They do know each other well.

“Magnus,” Alec starts carefully, “about Angelo. It would be nice to know what we’re getting into here.”

He doesn’t voice the part about how Magnus had looked scared of Angelo. He’s not sure Magnus would appreciate Alec pointing that out.

There’s a tense moment of silence in which Alec almost regrets asking the question.

“We were friends,” Magnus finally says, “but that was a long time ago.”

“And he’s looking for a fight?” Alec prompts.

Magnus chuckles dryly, no humor in the sound. “Let’s just say that our friendship didn’t end on the best terms.”

“Did it have to do with the poison?” Alec asks before he can stop himself.

Magnus goes quiet on the other line. Alec can hear what must be Catarina moving around in the background of the call.

“The poison,” Magnus finally says, “is my fault.”

“What?” Alec asks, pausing his pacing in the hallway.

“I developed it,” Magnus says, voice hard.

“You developed the poison Angelo used,” Alec repeats slowly, brain trying to catch up with the implications of the statement, “that’s why you knew what it was so quickly.”

“Yes,” Magnus confirms, voice barely a whisper now. Alec can hear the guilt in it even over the phone.

It is at odds with the kind of person Alec would imagine would develop a poison that was slowly and painfully killing Alec’s people in the next room. It isn’t at odds with the kind of person Alec knows Magnus is though. Here and now.

“Magnus—“ Alec starts, only to be cut off quickly.

“It was a mistake.” Magnus says. “And I—we don’t have the time to talk about this right now. The Shadowhunters need to get the antidote in the next few hours if we want them to survive and I haven’t got a clue what Angelo’s plan here is but I’d rather not find out.”

Alec bites his lip. It’s only been a few hours since Alec last saw Magnus but he sounds so tired .

“We can go in ourselves,” Alec suggests even though he already knows Magnus isn’t going to agree with that.

“Cat’s got the rest of this antidote handled. I’ll meet you in Queens,” Magnus says, ignoring the offer, and Alec sighs internally.

“Okay,” he agrees even though it’s not.

***

Magnus is dressed to kill when he meets with Alec and his team. He has on the same shirt he’d had on earlier but he’s exchanged the plain black blazer with a studded mauve coat and an overabundance of jewelry that he hadn’t had on before.

His face is hard when he steps through the portal but he sends Alec a thin smile when he sees him looking at him.

“There are wards up,” Alec tells him as he walks over.

“Not a problem,” Magnus says, “Angelo was never very good at wards.”

Alec wants to ask what Magnus and Angelo used to do together, dealing with poisons and making wards for safe houses but now is not the time.

Magnus turns to the team of Shadowhunters Alec had brought with him for the mission. Jace, Izzy, and Clary stand at the front of the group. Magnus looks at them and then to Alec.

Alec nods at him. Magnus knows by now that Alec doesn’t mind when he briefs his Shadowhunters but he always asks permission first.

“As soon as I bring the wards down, Angelo is going to know. I’m going to try and block his magic as fast as possible but we have to be careful. The poison is magically administered. If you see magic coming at you, get out of the way.”

Magnus’ gaze flicks back to Alec’s for a brief moment and he looks like he’s going to say something but he just lets out a breath instead. Alec realizes beltatedly that Magnus might be worried about him .

Magnus walks by Alec and up to the building. Alec lets himself reach out and brush a hand over his back as he walks by. Magnus’ seems to let himself relax into it for a touch of a second.

The next second he’s stepped out of Alec’s space, every inch the powerful high warlock. Alec watches as he makes a downward motion with his hands, similar to the way he brings down the wards at the loft.

There air ripples with electricity and the ozone smell of magic and then Magnus drops his hands. He doesn’t wait, just walks straight into the building without hesitation.

Alec goes after him, motioning for the team to follow behind.

“Do you have a plan?” Alec asks quietly, adjusting his grip on his bow out of habit as they walk a narrow hallway into the safehouse.

“Does getting the bastard the hell out of my city count?” Magnus asks. Alec doesn’t fail to notice that there’s poorly hidden fury in his voice.

Before he can reply Magnus is yelling “duck!” and pushing Alec down. Alec drops quickly as a burst of magic whizzes over their heads.

Magnus stands quickly, hand glowing blue and throwing his own burst of magic in the direction the other magic had come from.

Alec stays crouched on the ground. “Everyone okay?”

“We’re good,” Jace calls from behind him and Alec nods to himself, standing.

“Well he’s not hiding, at least,” Alec says.

Magnus lets out an amused huff, the first thing that has sounded even near positive since he’d gotten here. Alec sends him a small smile.

Magnus starts forwards again, this time more cautiously. Alec follows his lead, muscles tense and ready to spring into action.

The hallway opens up into a large room. It’s mostly empty save for a shelf against one wall. It’s obvious Angelo hasn’t been here long at all.

The man in question stands in the center of the room. Both his hands glow red with magic. His mouth turns up into a slow smile when he sees them, sending an uneasy feeling into Alec’s gut.

“Magnus Bane,” he says, voice echoing in the room, “What a lovely surprise. Did you enjoy my little gift? You’ve always enjoyed a bit of poison haven’t you?”

Magnus falters next to him and Alec clenches his jaw, torn between wanting to protect Magnus’ honor and not knowing the full story.

“They’ll be dead soon,” Angelo goes on. He ignores Alec and the rest of the team in favor of speaking directly to Magnus, “But you already know that. You—“

Alec doesn’t hesitate this time. He might not know the full story, but he does know that revealing Magnus is behind the poison in front of a team of Shadowhunters who had just seen their friends in unimaginable pain back at the Institute is not going to end well. Alec trusts Magnus, knows the kind of person he is. His Shadowhunters will take any excuse to vilify him. He steps swiftly in front of Magnus, letting an arrow fly.

Angelo’s sentence is cut off by a sharp cry of pain as the arrow lodges itself into his leg. It gives Magnus enough time to recover and he’s hurled a binding spell at Angelo before Alec can make another move.

Tendrils of magic wrap around Angelo’s body, rendering him immobile and unable to use magic. Alec freezes but doesn’t let down his guard.

Angelo just smiles despite his current state. “Is this any way to treat a friend?”

Magnus ignores his comment. “I told you if you came back here that I’d send you straight to the Spiral Labyrinth.”

“Oh dear, so dramatic.” Angelo replies.

“What do you want?” Alec demands.

Angelo turns to look at him, only now acknowledging he’s there. “It’s very simple, Shadowhunter ,” he says, a hatred in his eyes that has Alec holding his breath, “I just want to remind Magnus that he can play nice with you Nephilim all he wants.” His gaze cuts over to Magnus, who is standing stock still, “But he’s still one of us. Always will be.”

Anger lights like fire in Alec. He imagines pulling his seraph blade out and  stabbing it straight into Angelo’s side, no mercy. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to go through with it.

Magnus acts in the same moment, reaching out and conjuring a portal that Angelo disappears through. When the portal closes, Magnus quickly sends a fire message and then brushes his hands off theatrically.

He spins on his heel to face the team of Shadowhunters standing behind them and grins. “Well I think that’s done, why don’t we go save your friends?”

It isn’t until everyone turns and starts shuffling back out of the safehouse that Magnus’ posture betrays his true feelings.

He looks like a puppet whose strings have been cut, shoulders slumping and hands balled into fists.

Alec walks up to him and places a careful hand on his shoulder. For a moment, when Magnus turns to look at him he looks heartbreakingly fragile.  

Alec opens his mouth but Magnus has already pulled away, following behind the line of Shadowhunters.

Alec lets out a silent breath and follows him.

Later. They’ll talk about it later.

***

Once Alec has briefed the Institute on the situation he makes his way down to the infirmity to check on the patrol.

Magnus and Cat had administered the antidote while Alec had given his briefing so the infirmary is quiet when he gets there. He stands in the doorway, watching Cat flit from bed to bed along with infirmary staff. Shadowhunters are sitting up in bed now, chatting across the room or sleeping soundly.

It’s a much better atmosphere than it had been only a few hours ago when all of them had been screaming in pain.

“Hey boss!” Dominic calls out when he notices Alec in the doorway.

Alec smiles, stepping into the room. “How are you feeling?”

He pretends not to notice Magnus watching him from the corner of the room.

Dominic leans back into the pillows in the bed. “Exhausted, but alive.” He gestures to where Magnus and Cat stand, “all thanks to them.”

It’s a win, Shadowhunters in his Institute acknowledging the Downworlders who save their asses time and time again. When Alec turns to share the moment with Magnus and Cat it’s to see Magnus hurrying out the door.

He excuses himself from Dominic and makes his way over to Cat. It’s interesting, their relationship. Alec respects Cat and he hopes she respects him as well. But it’s more than that. They share a common trait in that they love Magnus Bane.

“He said he told you,” Cat says without preamble when Alec walks over.

Alec sighs. “A little.”

Cat smiles sadly at him, “take him home.”

Alec nods.

***

Magnus goes straight for the drinks cart when they get back home. Alec watches the tense line of his back for a long moment before he walks up behind him.

“Magnus.” Alec waits until Magnus turns to face him and then brings his hands up to cup both sides of Magnus’ face. “It’s okay. Everyone is okay.”

Magnus shakes his head minutely between Alec’s hands. “It’s not okay.”

“Talk to me,” Alec murmurs, sweeping his thumbs over Magnus’ cheeks and searching his eyes. “Let me help.”

Magnus releases a shaky breath, turning his head so Alec’s hands fall from his cheeks. “Damn you,” he mutters. Alec isn't quite sure he’s supposed to have heard it.

Magnus places his glass loudly back onto the drinks cart. He doesn’t look back at Alec. “You can’t help.”

Alec feels helpless, both wanting to step forwards and gather Magnus into his arms and being worried he’ll be pushed away even further if he tries.

“Okay,” Alec says quietly. It’s hard, realizing that sometimes he can’t fix things. It’s what Alec does. He fixes the problem. It’s how he’s taken care of Izzy and Jace all his life. But with Magnus he’s found that sometimes fixing something isn't an option. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Alec reaches out and slips his fingers between Magnus’. He tugs only slightly but Magnus jerks forwards suddenly. Their joined hands get crushed between their chests and Magnus’ forehead falls to Alec’s shoulder. His free hand smooths up and down Magnus’ lower back.

They stay like that for a long time. Magnus isn’t quite crying, but he takes small shuddering breaths into Alec’s shirt that break Alec’s heart.

When he finally lifts his face, he looks wrecked. Alec isn’t sure what to say so he brings the hand still tangled with Magnus’ to his lips and kisses Magnus’ knuckles.

Magnus shudders but doesn’t pull his hand away.

“God, I—I’m sorry,” he gets out quietly.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alec says just as softly.

“I almost got half of your Institute killed. Of course I need to apologize.”

Alec is shaking his head even before Magnus can finish the sentence. “ You didn’t poison them. In fact you caught the guy who did and saved everyone with the antidote.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if I hadn’t made the damn thing in the first place,” he says bitterly, “I was young and I was angry. And I did things I’ll never forgive myself for.”

“Magnus—“ Alec starts, but it seems like some sort of dam has been broken in Magnus because words keep spilling out.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I wanted my father’s approval. I wanted so badly for him to think I was worth it. For someone to be proud of me for once.” Magnus lets out a laugh that holds no humor, “And he was. Fuck, he was proud of me. And that’s when I’d realized what I’d done.”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Magnus’ hand.

“But it was too late,” Magnus says, “I'd been working on it with Angelo so he knew about it and he refused to wipe out all records of it like I wanted.”

“So you came up with an antidote instead.” Alec guesses.  

Magnus nods. “I haven’t had to use it in years. It caught me off guard. Reminded me of a past I’d rather forget.” He finally looks at Alec for the first time in the conversation. “A past I’d have preferred you didn’t know about.”

There’s hesitance and something like resignation in Magnus’ face now. As if he’s ready for Alec to hate him. As if that was even remotely possible.

“Magnus,” I don’t care about your past. I love you. Here and now. I know who you are. I see it everyday.”

Magnus scoffs but Alec isn’t finished.  He’ll be damned if he doesn’t show Magnus what everyone else sees when they look at him.

“I watch you choose good every single fucking day. You saved my people today. Hell you’ve saved us hundreds of times. You help every person that shows up at your door. You made a mistake. That doesn’t define you.”

Magnus’ eyes are wet by the time Alec finishes and he’s blinking rapidly. This time it’s Alec who is pulled into a hug by their joined hands.

“I love you.” Magnus mutters into Alec’s chest and Alec presses a kiss to his temple. He’s not sure he’s convinced Magnus but this is a start.

Why he had eventually agreed to the blind date was anyone’s guess, even Alec himself was questioning it, especially since the guy had apparently decided not to show.

“That’s it.  I’m—”

“I am so sorry I’m late!”

Alec looked up startled.  In front of him was what had to be the most uniquely beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on.  His hair was swept up in an elegantly wavy coif with blue highlights, his eyes were traced in black eyeliner with some kind of shimmery eyeshadow that helped bring out the beautiful bronze of the man’s eyes.  His lips were plump with a slight pink gloss to them, which Alec wanted nothing more than to kiss.

Wait…what?

Alec shook his head and closed his eyes.

Get a hold of yourself Alec.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, finding his blind date looking at him with wide eyes.

“Look, you’re probably angry with me, which I totally get, but I have a very good excuse I swear—"

The man stopped rambling as Alec held up both his hands indicating that the other man should stop.

“You’re here now, which is all that matters, right?” Alec said straightening up and focusing his attention on his date.

The other man smiled softly at Alec and gently nodded his head.

“Right.  Let me formally introduce myself, I’m Magnus, Magnus Bane.”

“Alec.”

The two men shook hands and neither one could keep the smiles off their faces.

“Wow, Isabelle really hit the nail on the head with you.” Alec couldn’t help but say, feeling himself blush as his own words hit his ears.

The other man, Magnus, was quiet for a moment, looked unsure before a Cheshire grin spread over his face.

“Can’t say I heard as much about you, but I don’t think words could do you justice Alexander.”

Alec paused a moment, his full name coming from the man in front of him causing a shiver to radiate up his spine.

I like that.

Alec chuckled and smiled back at the man who seemed like such a force of nature, all he wanted was to try and contain it just for himself.

So, the two men chatted and laughed and drank together for the next couple of hours.  The waitress who had previously been looking at Alec with pity was now looking on at him with envy.  It felt really good he had to admit to himself.

Magnus was an impressive man.  He owned his own night club (he’d been helped out with a loan by his grandmother), but he’d been the one to turn it into a successful venture.  He was also an artist; painting was his main forte, but he also enjoyed writing poetry every now and again.

“Maybe one day you could show me a piece of your work.” Alec had said nonchalantly.

Smirking Magnus had replied with, “Maybe one day I’ll let you see my piece.  I’ve been told it’s quite impressive.”

Alec had nearly choked on his food at that.

“I didn’t—That’s not—”

“Alexander, relax,” Magnus had said reaching forward and clasping his hand over Alec’s. “I’m just flirting with you, no need to get flustered, though I must admit you’re even more adorable now than you were ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry gentleman, but we’re closing in five minutes.”  It was their waitress who did have guilty look on her face.

Magnus swiped the check from her before Alec even had a chance.

“It’s on me my dear Alexander.  I was late after all.”

Alec couldn’t stop the stutter that made its way out of his mouth as he tried to protest, but it was a losing battle.  The man before him had bewitched him.  Everything about Magnus Bane left him feeling hungry for more.  His sister sure knew how to pick guys.

They ended up exchanging numbers, promising each other to text when they made it home safely.

Magnus took Alec’s hand in his and placed a gentle kiss to the top of it.  Alec’s eyebrows were up to his hairline as Magnus looked up meeting his gaze.

“Goodnight, sweet prince.”

And in a flourish Magnus Bane was gone.

Alec was in a daze most of the way home.   He also had the biggest smile on his face.  Izzy definitely had outdone herself.

His phone rang suddenly, and he answered without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Alec?”

“Hey Isabelle, what are you—”

“Did Jason show up?”

Alec looked at his phone in confusion.

“Um, who’s Jason?”

“Shit, what an asshole, I should have known.”

“Iz you really need to figure out what you’re saying because I just had the best date I’ve had in years, and you’re kind of freaking me out here.” Alec said stopping.

“Well, I don’t know how that would have been possible Alec, because the guy I fixed you up with turned out to be a total prick and decided not to show.  I had been so scared you’d just sat there all night alone…"

“Ok Izzy wait a second.  So, if the guy who you set me up with didn’t show then who the hell did I have dinner and desert with for the last two and a half hours?”

“Oh, Alec I—I’m not sure.  Two and a half hours, really?  That’s Amazing!”

“Not the point Iz.” Alec said impatiently trying not to freak out.

“What was the guy’s name?”

“I don’t think that matters—”

“Alec just tell me the guy’s damn name.”

Sighing Alec shook his head.  “Magnus Bane.  That’s his name.”

There was a moment of silence before Isabelle started to scream on the other line.  Alec had to hold the phone out from his ear.

“Iz? Isabelle?  Can you stop screaming I kind of need my hearing.”

Laughing Isabelle stopped her yells and took in a few deep breaths.

“Alec, Magnus Bane?  He’s only one of New York’s most prominent eligible bachelors.  He frequents bars, restaurants, and night clubs sometimes. And he, Oh!  He must have seen you were a damsel in need of rescuing and decided—”

“Isabelle, I am not a damsel.”  Alec interrupted, feeling all the hope and excitement from the date drain from him.

There was another moment of silence before she answered.

“Alec listen, I didn’t mean anything by that.  Magnus Bane has very high standards when it comes to those he takes interest it, he might have a reputation of sorts but he really is a good guy, at least from what I understand.”

“Iz if you think that’s suppose to make me feel better—”

His phone buzzed and he noticed a text message from Magnus.

“Not home yet, but I can’t stop thinking about you.  Tonight, was fantastic, but I have a confession to make.  I wasn’t your blind date.  I saw you sitting there looking absolutely stunning and the idea of leaving you alone seemed cruel to me.  So, I took a chance and I am glad I did.  If you forgive me, I’d like to see you again.  What do you say?”

Alec felt the wind knock itself out of him, and he actually smiled.

“Isabelle, I’ll call you later I have a text to respond to.”