( Genuine puzzlement works at his expression; mind racing, struggling to decipher what words 'RPF' stood for. A needed distraction, regardless of how brief. Relieving miniscule weight from the tension; just enough for the elevator trip to become bearable, no longer a threat to his sanity. Thank the angel. Clary still wields the power to undo him. A smile, a look, a word. Her weapons are limitless. How did this take such an intimate feeling onto itself so quickly?

Another soft ding; saving grace for both of them. Or simply a delay of the inevitable. ) Sounds like a plan. We need to get a feel for this place, and put some runes up on your walls later. ( Chances of an attack were remote; some habits aren't so easily forgotten, though. An excuse to spend more time with her might represent a certain degree of the truth.

A short walk towards the 'south' unit. He can feel it already; a tightness in his chest, the elevation of his pulse, over something that wouldn't illicit nearly the same reaction from a different visitor. The apartment> is an open studio; dark grays and metallic touches, modern, without having a hint of 'Jace' to it yet; the design pre-furnished. Once Clary's stepped inside, the door quietly shuts behind them, and a breath he hadn't realized was being held is finally released )

Pretty different from the institute, I guess I'll get used to it, eventually. ( A pause, eyebrows knitting together, and then: ) I'm glad you're here.