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08 February 2010 @ 09:15 pm
Hey, I wrote a Simon and Isabelle story, and thought I would post it, for Funzies.

Title: Infinte
Rating: it's 12's, I think.
Disclaimer: I do not own them, just adore them

Simon’s legs dangled off the roof as he peered over the expanse of the New York City skyline. The sun beat against his bear skin, and he sighed contentedly when all he felt was a soft, warming tingle on the nape of his neck, rather than the burning inferno expected from most vampires.
But he wasn’t like most vampires.
He looked down on the street below him, swinging his legs back and forth on the Institutes brick walls. Of course, he couldn’t actually go inside the institute, being one of the eternally damned, but no one had said anything about him being on the institute. The roof was fair game.
He smiled when he heard footsteps echoing lightly behind him, treading as softly as possibly to try and catch him off guard.
“You should know better by now. I’m super-vamp after all.”
She sighed miserably and plodded along until she leaned against the roof’s railing.
“So how’ve you been?” he asked, keeping his eyes glued to the horizon, while suppressing a toothy grin.
“Better, now you’re here.” He heard the smile in her voice, but chose to ignore it. He had way too much on his mind right now.
“Thanks for coming up with this.”
“No problem. After all, it’s my house, too.”
Simon finally peeled his gaze away and glanced at Isabelle through the corner of his eyes. The wind had caught her hair and made it float like a halo around her. She stared longingly into the distance, her mind drawn to someplace far away. Her face was serious and her eyes were flooded with sadness, but fuelled by determination. Suddenly, her eyes flickered sideways and she caught him staring. Simon couldn’t blush, but he definitely grew a few shades paler, and Isabelle grinned wickedly.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he mumbled, trying to sort out his head. After all, he had called her for a reason.
“They’ll cost a lot more than a penny.” she sighed, and pushed herself away from the wall. Simon turned around and stood on the ledge. Although Isabelle had suggested this compromise, he still couldn’t enter the Institute, and the rooftop garden would count.
“You rang?” Izzie fiddled with the tail of her whip, which was wrapped around her belt in a coil. Her dress was white and simple, sinched in at the waist and flowing out until the knees, where it came to an abrupt stop. The contrast between her pale skin and her flowing dark hair made her startling, since she was already beautiful inside and out, Simon thought, but he quickly scolded himself. He had decided to leave his love problems at home, and until he worked out what to do with his new-found “popularity”, he put all romantic intentions on the back burner. He had already turned down a date with Maia to the Multiplex for an Early Hollywood Horror marathon, which she promised would be ridiculed beyond belief. As much as it pained him, he declined. He also had to change his cell phone number when several girls at school had began stalking him, and one turned out to be an excellent hacker, and somehow wired his video camera to turn on spontaneously. It came as a bit of a shock to his system when at school on Monday morning, several girls were hanging topless pictures of him on their “acceptable boys” wall. As Clary had warned him “Hotness can be a hassle.”
Not that she was around to help him any more.
“It’s important.”
“So what do you need, Si-Fi?”
“I thought I’d try it out.”
“It just doesn’t fit. Let me think about it. So why did you call me?”
“Look out into the skyline with me. Just for one second.”
“Wow, way to proposition me.”
“Oh, all right!”
Isabelle bounded over and leaped agilely onto the ledge. Even though there was no chance of her falling, since she was too skilled for that, Simon still grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked down at his pale hand grasping her arm and cocked an eyebrow in amusement. He quickly relinquished his grip and pointed out to the sky.
“Do you see that?”
“See what?”
“That!” Simon pointed at the looming black cloud hanging over the Empire State building. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed emanated from its charcoal coloured confines. It growled like a hungry Lion looming around its prey, ready to attack, and every day it just got closer and closer.
And he seemed to be the only one who could see it.
Isabelle squinted, and her dark eyes narrowed in frustration. “What am I meant to be looking at here, Simon?”
And that just confirmed it.

The storm cloud had been lingering for weeks, edging closer and closer to the city. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, Clouds? In New York? Shocker!
But this was different.
For one thing, he was the only one who was able to see it.
Every morning he crept downstairs, pulled out a bowl and added the tiniest bit of cereal to a drop of milk to make it seem like he had eaten and turned on the morning weather. He would flip through every one of the channels and try to catch every forecast before his mother woke up. When she did come looking for her morning caffeine rush, he changed to cartoons and stretched back to watch. This was usually followed by an exasperated sigh and a “You really will have to grow up sometime, Simon.” Little did she know.
Isabelle continued her scan of the sky line. Pursing her lips, she turned nimbly on the ledge.
“I don’t see anything.”
“No storm cloud?”
“No?” she laughed. “It’s a beautiful day, Simon. In fact it’s so nice that if I were at the beach, I would so go topless to get an even tan.”
No mental images, Simon scolded himself.
“Like the image, Simon?” Isabelle purred seductively, creeping closer to him and fluttering her long, luscious eyelashes. Simon never realised how good she smelled, how utterly delicious….
“I’m hungry.”
“Oh, I could get you something from the kitchen, if you want?”
“No, Iz, I’m hungry.”
Isabelle tutted and then leaped off the roof. “Fine. Feed. But call me later.”
“Absolutely,” He smiled, but felt an empty gaping hole in his chest, right where his un-beating heart rests.
Isabelle danced her way to the large metal door at the edge of the roof, before turning abruptly and said “I like the fringe. It’s hot.”
Simon smiled crookedly. “It’s not really. It‘s just a necessity.”
“Simon,” she said, shaking her head, “learn to take a compliment. God knows you’ll get a lot of them.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Great, soon I’ll be as self-confident as Jace.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” she grinned. “Now do your Spiderman thing.”
Simon smiled and made sure she was watching before he jumped backwards and fell off the roof, catching the wall and scaling down the red brick to the city street. He landed nimbly on a dustbin lid and hopped off. There was no one on the street so he ducked out of the alley and made his way to the main street.
The sky groaned and grumbled above him and he quickened his pace. Simon made it to the record shop two blocks away in a matter of seconds and pushed the door open. The smell of smoke caught him first, followed by the fragrant odour of a public bathroom. Simon wrinkled his nose and walked to the Vinyl section.
He flipped through, sub-consciously taking in artists names, until he came across one that caught his eye. He pulled it out of the pile and a grin spread across his face. The Smiths.
Clary had forced him to listen to them on repeat for three months straight during her “I’m a pale and tortured artist” phase when she was fourteen; before their lives drastically changed forever. He felt an odd pang, and suddenly longed to hear the sound of her voice. Of course, their contact had been severed ever since she started seeing Jace; she just never seemed to have time for Simon any more. Which is when Simon made other plans and liaised with Isabelle on the roof on an almost daily basis. She was more of a friend lately than Clary was; which made him happy and sad at the very same time. Inspired in the moment, Simon grabbed the record, gave the change to the hung-over shop assistant and walked into the glaring mid-day sun. He paced down the quiet street until he saw a quaint little coffee shop. He smiled and leaned against the wall, staring at passers-by before he decided what he had to do.
Simon grabbed his brand new phone and punched in Clary’s number. He memorised it years ago so it swiftly flew from his fingers to the key pad without a second’s hesitation.
It rang three times before she answered.
“Hello?” she said gruffly. Clary sounded out of breath and flustered, but Simon couldn’t figure out why.
“It’s Simon.”
“Simon?” the shock in her voice actually cut him like a knife. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Oh, Nothing really. Just thought we could meet up, have some coffee, point laugh and stare at bystanders. You know. The usual.”
“I don’t know Simon,” Clary hedged and answer and he heard a snort in the background. “I’m sort of….busy at the moment.”
Simon could her soft giggle and sighs, and even without his vampire hearing aid, he could tell what that was. Anger bubbled through him and he gritted his teeth together. “You know what Clary; Call me the next time you aren’t getting penetrated, okay?”
He heard her scream of indignation and the beginning of a profanity before he snapped his phone shut.
The cloud grew closer and closer. Now it loomed overhead. This was no run of the mill weather anomaly. And he needed help to figure out what it was.
He grabbed his phone, thankful for his 500 extra free minutes, and punched in Isabelle’s number.
“Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“No, I couldn’t control myself!”
“Wow, you are sounding more like Jace!”
“Hardy-Har-Har Iz, I need your help.”
“Another sky surveillance mission. With a romantic setting and moons and stars? I’m on to you, Simon Lewis!”
“No, I need you…..”
“Oh I know you do!”
Simon sighed. “I need you to help me find Magnus.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“More than likely he is making out with my brother.” Her breath hitched, and Simon knew she was replaying Max’s death again. She did it several times a day, always going back and trying to see if she could have saved him. Survivor’s guilt. She could never find a solution, but Isabelle would never forgive herself for as long as she lived.
“Isabelle?” Simon whispered softly down the phone, and he could actually hear her sniffing away the tears that she would never let fall.
“I’m fine.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Come where?”
“To Magnus’?”
“I don’t know Simon?” she hedged around an answer, humming and hawing, before Simon decided to sweeten the deal. “There’s a slice of cake in it for you.”
“I don’t know….”
“And a coffee!”
“Like my soul!”
“Deal.” she laughed.
“Meet me downstairs in ten minutes.”
“It’s a date.”
Simon pierced his lip with his left incisor, which seemed to be retracting back and forth as he spoke. He was so hungry.
“It’s not a date.”
“We’ll see about that!” she teased before hanging up.
Great, thought Simon, I miss blissful ignorance.
But he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
Well, until the lightning bolt cracked open the pavement beneath his feet.

Simon instinctively leaped to the wall, crawling backwards, or should that be upwards.
“What in the….” There was a thin fissure spreading through the sidewalk, like a crack in a window; starting off small, but growing and growing until the whole thing imploded.
Simon craned his head upwards and saw the cloud looming directly overhead in the azure sky. He couldn’t be sure, but he swore it seemed more…..solid than a cloud out to be. His glasses began to slip off the bridge of his nose, and he smacked them back into place before he leaped off the wall and landed on the sidewalk, staring down at this smoking crevice in the ground, and that’s when things turned from bad to worse.
He only stood there for a moment before the pavement cracked underneath him and a split in two and the whole sidewalk gave way. The cacophony of cracking rang in his ears and a lump formed in his throat. The burning he felt when he was hungry subsided; It was replaced by fear.
The gaping canyon in the middle of the street grew and devoured everything in it’s path; man-hole covers and fire hydrants falling into the dark abyss below. Simon stood on the edge of the chasm, peering into the endless ravine beneath his feet and knew he wasn’t seeing the New York sewers; He was staring into the burning, churning inferno of death and despair.
He was staring into Hell.
Mesmerised, he leaned in closer, the scent of sulphur burning his sensitive nostrils.
And then he slipped.
He fell for what seemed like an eternity, but what was more likely a second and grabbed hold to anything that wouldn’t give way. He scrabbled through the nooks and crannies, desperately holding on, while New York flew further and further away.
His glasses fell and spiralled through the rift, floating on and on before disappearing into the red hot flames that he saw crawling up the rock face.
He heard malevolent groan from below him the sound edging closer and closer, before he heard a voice. It echoed through his skull, beating against his ears.
Let go.
“N-no.” Simon stuttered helplessly, the intense heat burning his skin.
Let go. It’s not like anyone would care of you were gone. They’ll all be dead soon anyway.
“Stop it!” He screamed, his voice strangled.
Stop it! The voice sneered, You’re pathetic, Simon Lewis. A waste of space. An abomination.
Simon scrabbled up the rocks, crawling closer and closer to the surface, but the voice just got louder and louder; like the engine of an airplane in his skull.
Simon, let go. You have to let go.
“Why?” he screamed.
You will be the death of her.
Simon grew cold, and was frozen in place, his hand rigid on the last rock in the chasm.
The voice was gone.
“What do you mean?
The voice did not respond.
A bell rang in Simon’s ears and suddenly, he was thrust out of the ground. He landed on the sidewalk with a thud, slamming into a garbage can and folding it in half from the impact. He sat up shakily and stared at the sky above him. The cloud was moving.
And then the voice was back.
I gave you your chance. Now you must deal with the consequences. Good-bye young Vampire.
“No!” Simon screamed, thrusting himself upright and yelling at the sky. “Tell me what’s happening!”
He never heard the voice again.
The ground had sealed itself and all that was left was the smoking hole.
Simon wrung his hair in his hands, and threw his fist into the wall with all the force he could. He took it away, and left the wall with a large indent.
“Nice. You’ll have to teach me that trick.”
Simon whirled around, and saw Isabelle. And for a strange second he felt such utter relief that his legs nearly buckled beneath him, but he wasn’t sure why.
“Are you okay?” she asked, worried by the bewildered look on his face, which she would have found cute if it weren’t marred by his manic stare.
“I will be.” he assured her. “As soon as we get to Magnus’!”
“Wow, you’re eager. I thought we would get some coffee first, maybe some furious flirtation, followed by a completely inappropriate make-out session by the lake in central park?”
“Trying to make Meliorn jealous, are we?”
“among other things.” she teased. “Where are your glasses?”
“Oh,” Simon scratched the bridge of his nose. “I lost them. It doesn’t really matter, they had no glass. I have 20/20, remember?”
“Yeah,” Izzie pursed her lips as she mused. “But they worked for you.”
“Thanks.” he swept a hand through his hair, and immediately regretted it as Izzie narrowed her eyes. Had she seen it?
“what’s that?”
“Oh,” Simon tried to draw her attention away from his face and fingered the cover of his Vinyl record. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “I love the Smiths.”
Simon breathed a sigh of relief. “I bought the album downtown, thought I’d…”
“I don’t really care about that, but what‘s this?” she stood before him, her face only a few centimetres from his. “This.” her hand gently touched his fringe, ready to sweep it away to reveal the mark of Cain, before she jerked her hand away, like she had been shocked.
“What?” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn’t uncovered his dirty little secret.
“N-nothing.” she held her arm close to her chest cradling it from shock.
“Izzie, what is it?” Simon was genuinely worried by her expression.
“Nothing, I just got a shock that all?”
“I’m not sure.” Isabelle paled .
“You don’t look so good.”
She sneered. “That’s just what a girl wants to hear, Simon. Thanks so much.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know.” she sighed. “Let’s get to Magnus’.”
“I thought you wanted coffee first.”
“I did. But now, I think we should go there first.”
She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him in disgust. “So, Simon, you have time to explain to me why you just happen to have The Mark Of Cain on your forehead.”
Oh crap.

Knock, knock, knock.
Simon waited on the stoop outside the door while Isabelle persistently rattled on the door.
“He might not be home, Iz.”
She heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at him. “He’s in, Simon.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. The attic window is cranked open; I just saw Captain Meow; and, drum roll please, I asked Alec already! Happy now?”
“Not particularly, no.” he spat. That was the final straw. Isabelle leaped from the stairs, her black coat floating around her like a cape, sending her further down the path. She landed in a cat-like crouch. She cocked her head up and there was a deadly glint in her dark eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a braid that hung down her back, which gave her the impression of being the child of an Amazonian warrior, and Neo in The Matrix. Isabelle stood again and faced him, her whip unravelled and skulking like a snake on the sidewalk. Simon saw her hand twitch eagerly at her side, just waiting for her move.
“Isabelle, Don’t.”
Simon flipped off the stoop and clung to the wall, as the golden-whip narrowly missed his right ear. Simon leaped onto the red brick building and scaled the wall, getting far enough away to stop her from hurting him, and worse, hurting herself.
“I can still get you from here. Just give me a reason!” She flicked her wrist, and the stone gargoyle beside him cracked in half and fell to the ground, before shattering into a thousand, tiny fragments.
“Here’s a reason,” Simon snapped, trying and failing to keep his voice calm and reasoned. “you hit me, you get it back seven times over.”
“Empty threat.” she hissed, but her whip grew a little more slack as she said it.
Simon leaped off the wall and landed beside her. “I’m serious. Trust me, you shouldn’t hurt me.”
“Because I can’t bear to hurt you.”
Her expression didn’t soften, but she coiled her whip and slung it on her belt. “Fine.”
Simon carefully narrowed the space between them. “You don’t believe me do you?”
“Oh I do.” she laughed. “Trust me. If I wanted to hit you, I would have hit you. I guess I can’t bear to hurt you either.”
Simon grinned wickedly. He noticed a strand of her hair hanging in her eyes. Unconsciously, he reached up and swept it out of her eyes. Her eyes flickered towards his, and he felt a small twinge in his chest. Isabelle jumped back and clutched her chest.
“Izzie?” Simon started toward her, but she held a hand up to stall him. She sucked in a sharp breath and a sly smile spread across her face. “Are you ok?”
“Never better. Just figured something out.”
“and what’s that?”
“That whatever I do to you, I get back seven fold.” A grin spread across her face, and she took a step toward him, narrowing the distance. Simon gulped, but kept his face amused.
“Yeah, I told you that earlier.” he laughed.
“No, Simon.” her face was directly in front of his, tilted to the left as she whispered in his ear seductively, her warm breath tickling his cold skin. She batted her eyelashes and leaned in closer. Simon could taste her scent in his back of his throat. His throat grew hot and dry, but it wasn’t from hunger. It was from desire.
Simon’s lips parted and Isabelle’s lip curled at the corners as the began to close the gap keeping them apart.
“Whatever. I. Do. To. You.” she whispered, and Simon’s chest clenched. He closed his eyes and awaited paradise.
“Hmm-hmm.” Someone cleared their throat and Isabelle and Simon blinked in unison, before reluctantly breaking apart.
“I thought you wanted to see me.” Magnus laughed. “I didn’t realise you just wanted an audience.”

Let me know what you think.

Current Mood: blahblah