Ways To Meet

Chapter 1 An Injured ShadowHunter

Hello, this is my first fanfic, or at least the first one I'm going to take the time to put in... typing. This will be a bunch of shorts, each a chapter maybe two.

I'd like to point out I am Dyslexic, and where as I am using spell check like my bitch there will probably still be words that don't make sense and odd or bad punctuation, so feel free to point those out to me.

WARNING: As much as I think it's already obvious, this is boyXboy. Don't like it, don't read it, no one's tying you down and forcing you to read it... If someone is, I think you have bigger problems to worry about.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Magnus's POV

It was getting late; My mood had been sour after dealing with a rather uncooperative client that afternoon, the guy had requested something impossible but really wouldn't listen or simply had tuned out the "im" in impossible... talk about selective hearing. Either way the poor sob ended up out the door on his tail before long, I'd had enough of him so he could take his problem elsewhere and tick someone else off. He should just count himself lucky I hadn't turned him into a toad and flushed him down the toilet, which certainly would have proved amusing if nothing else.

I dramatically flopped myself into my favorite chair, my tiny cat hopping up onto my lap giving me a demanding meow to be pet.

My irritation wasn't subsiding; I stood up unceremoniously dumping my small cat to the floor, earning me an irritated huff and a scornful look from the silly creature. I strode across the room grabbing my coat and walked out the door and down the steps from my flat, finally deciding to take a walk to cool my head and possible get a drink while I was at it.

As the night air hit me I instantly felt a little better, it was cool out but not freezing just refreshing. I made my way down the old streets of Brooklyn heading to the nearest place I could get some something to drink and just drown my frustrations.

It was well past one in the morning by the time I was satisfied with my drunken state and decided to head home for the night, with a couple more litters of alcohol in my system then when I had left, if I wasn't a warlock I'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning by now.

As I was approaching an ally I could hear movement. Could be a mugger, I thought to myself.

I pity the poor fool who tries to mug me, the magnificent high warlock of Brooklyn, he'd find himself suddenly pointing his knife at a polar bear up in the arctic, and I doubt the polar bear would take to mugging any better than I, I smirked at the thought and proceeded to the mouth of the ally.

Looking into the space, at first I didn't really see anyone or anything that could have produced the noise. After a few lingering moments my gaze finally fell to a dark lump slumped against the alleyway wall next to a dumpster, in which I had originally concluded to be a trash bag, albeit now I realize trash bags don't tend to breath. You see people usually tend to be dead by the time they find themselves in a trash bag.

"Alright so maybe not a mugger, perhaps just a drunk, well that makes this a little boring." I mumbled to myself, a tad bit disappointed.

As I was just going to turn and continue on my way the form shifts slightly tilting its head up, and revealing the most stunning bottle blue eyes looking up at me through a curtain of dark raven hair. "it" was a young boy, a beautiful blue-eyed boy at that.

The boy struggles to prop himself up on the wall and proceeds to, with much trouble, drag himself up the wall into a standing position. This however gets him nowhere as the next action he takes is to fall flat on his face.