Isabelle loves her apartment, partly because it's her first apartment. She's all on her own now, officially a fully functional adult with a job and her own place. After college, she had to go back living with her mom for a while, simply not able to afford her own place while paying off college, even with her jobs at the coffee shop and the clothing stores. She's very grateful for her partial scholarship, and for the college fund her parents set up when she was a kid because it meant she'd paid off most of her debt in a year, and she could actually afford a decent apartment when she found a job as a fashion designer.

    She opens her fridge, looking for a snack to hold her over until dinner. When all she finds is three days old Chinese, she groans. Okay, so maybe she's not a fully functional adult. There's a bit of a learning curve. Looking for her jacket, Isabelle stumbles over one of the many boxes she still hasn't unpacked, despite having lived in the apartment for almost a month now. If she wants to keep telling herself she's an adult, she should definitely get on that, but first: food.

    Closing the door behind her, Isabelle catches sight of Morris jumping out of the window, onto her balcony, and she adds cat food to her mental grocery list. Not that Morris eats at home very often. He spends most of his time at her neighbor's place, only coming back in the evenings to curl up on Izzy's lap. Izzy completely understands his fondness for her neighbor, Clary. The woman is gorgeous, with a heart-stopping smile, sharp wit, intelligent eyes, and an air of mystery.

    Walking to the grocery store on the corner, Izzy lets her mind wander towards Clary. She's talked to the woman a couple of times, flirted even. Maybe. With girls, it's always harder for Isabelle to distinguish friendly banter from flirtatious banter. She could just ask Clary, of course. Clary doesn't seem like to the type of person who would get awkward if you asked them out and they said no. And if Clary said no to a romantic date, Izzy could always ask her on a friend date. She's pretty sure they're at least half-way towards being friends already.

    Isabelle grabs a cart and pushes it through the store, mentally repeating her grocery list, ticking off the items as she puts them in her cart: tofu broccoli, pasta, tomatoes, spinach, ice cream, apples, bananas, cookies, milk, (does she still have coffee? Might as well buy it, just to be safe) coffee and beer. As she turns her cart into the pet food aisle, her eyes fall on the toilet paper. That's one thing you can never have enough of. She grabs a pack and continues to the cat food.

    What to buy to persuade Morris not to change orders? She decides on the same hard food she always does, but chooses soft food with real bits of chicken and fish in it. Not that it'll smell like chicken, or fish, when she opens it later to lure him back inside. Maybe cats really do have superior noses and they can smell the chicken, or the fish, within the cat food stink.

    Back home, Isabelle puts all the groceries away, grabs a cookie from the new pack, and goes looking for Morris. He's a distinctive cat, with black, white, red, and even brown patches in his fur. His little feet are completely white, though, and there's a small handlebar mustache underneath his nose.

    She opens the door to her balcony, but all she finds there are a chair and the plant that's half-dead from lack of sun. Izzy looks to her left, to Clary's balcony. Unlike her own, Clary's balcony is flourishing, full of vibrant green plants and multi-colored flowers.

    Isabelle doesn't know how Clary does it. The only time their side of the building gets any sun is in the early hours of the morning, which means that Clary must have some artificial lights, but Izzy has never been able to spot them. Clary probably has some amazing plant food and an insanely high water bill, too.

    Maybe it's just part of the mystery that is Clary Fray, Izzy thinks, munching on her cookie and trying to peek through the foliage on Clary's balcony to see if she can find her cat. Like the parties. Clary gives a lot of parties or at least has company over a lot, but Isabelle's never heard them. Once, when she came home from a late appointment, she walked up to her door in an exhausted daze, barely getting her key in the lock, when Clary's door opened and two men stumbled out, accompanied by a blast of noise. Isabelle jumped in surprise, so shocked by the noise and the intensity of the two men's make out session, that Clary's words, and the words of the song that was playing, hadn't really sunk in until she was already in bed.

    Clary had yelled at the men that they should always remember to put the sound shield up before leaving, and then she'd closed the door, cutting off the voice that sang about Veelas and vampires.

    Izzy still doesn't know what Veelas are, or what a sound shield is exactly. She'd tried looking it up online but found nothing that made sense.

    "Gotcha," Izzy whispers as she catches a glimpse of red and dark black fur. She quickly exits her balcony and crosses her apartment as she swallows the last of her cookie. On a hunch, she grabs the rest of the packet of cookies and puts them on a plate, to give to Clary as a thank you for playing host to her cat. And if Clary invites her in for some tea or coffee, and Isabelle finds out they've actually been flirting for the past month, that would just be a bonus.

    Izzy knocks on Clary's door, her heart jumping when it's opened almost immediately. Clary's frowning at the piece of paper in her hand, but face clears when she looks up at Izzy.

    "Hey. What's up?" Clary asks, rolling up the paper.

    Isabelle always feels like she needs to restart her thoughts when she sees Clary. The woman is beautiful, but there is something faintly otherworldly about her. It probably has something to do with Clary's clothes; capes instead of coats, always a hat that gives the illusion of being pointy, the flowers on Clary's dresses looking like they grow and bloom with every swish of her skirt. And though the capes and dresses don't reach the floor, Clary always manages to sweep.

    "Morris has made himself at home on your balcony again," Isabelle explains. She holds up the plate of cookies. "Sorry."

    Clary laughs, taking the place from Isabelle. "It's fine. I like animals."

    "I get the feeling they like you, too."

    Clary's smile widens minutely, then she steps back and opens the door wider for Izzy to step through.

    Izzy's never been inside Clary's apartment before. It's very elegant, decorated with antique furniture with modern touches. It's very Clary, Izzy thinks. From what she can see, purple and white are the most dominant colors, but little accents of red, blue and green can be found everywhere. There are almost just as many plants and flowers in the living room as there are on the balcony.

    "Did you make these yourself?" Clary asks, leading the way to the couch.

    "No, but I put them on the plate myself," Izzy grins.

    "Vey nicely done," Clary laughs.

    They pass the kitchen, and Izzy can't help but glance inside. What she sees makes her freeze in her tracks. A small black cauldron is simmering on the fire, gold and blue smoke swirling out of it.

    "You are a witch!" Isabelle exclaims, then slaps her hand over her mouth when Clary turns sharply. "I'm sorry! It's just...Morris never likes anyone and then he spent so much time here, I couldn't help but think you were somehow magical and it kind of spiraled from there, with how you manage to actually grow things on your balcony, and how no noise ever comes from your apartment, and how your clothes—"

    "What about my clothes?" Clary asks sharply.

    "I like them," Isabelle says placatingly. She focuses on one of the flowers of the skirt of Clary's dress, just in time to see it bloom, its red and white petals on full display. "They're just not normal. Floral patterns don't usually behave like actual flowers."

    Clary smooths down her skirt, then raises her eyebrows in admission, relaxing a little.

    "And, you know, there's the cauldron in your kitchen," Isabelle chuckles, nodding at where the smoke is now turning entirely blue.

    At Izzy's chuckle, Clary relaxes completely. She places her roll of paper on her coffee table, next to several others and a jar of ink with a quill sticking out of it.

    "You can't tell anyone. Ever," Clary impresses on her. She sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to her. Isabelle sits down, looking at Clary questionably. Clary has magic, why would it matter if other people knew? It almost seems selfish to keep something like that a secret.

    "I'm not the only one. There's a whole community of witches and wizards," Clary says, answering the unspoken question. "It's a world hidden from the one you live in, with your own schools, shops, books. And it's not just people, there are plants, animals, intelligent non-humans. It's beautiful and rich and wild and dangerous, and there will be people who want to hurt it or profit from it."

    "I won't tell anyone," Isabelle promises without hesitation. She doesn't really understand why it has to be hidden, but Clary seems adamant. "And schools? Really?"

    "Yes. I'm a teacher, in fact."

    That was the first of hundreds of questions Izzy has for Clary, most of which Clary answers while they sip the coffee she'd floated over from the kitchen, with she pulled from the pocket in her skirt. Clary isn't free with information on every subject, staying tight-lipped about the magic school and her witch and wizard acquaintances, so Isabelle changes the subject to food, music, and botany, or "herbology" as Clary calls it.

    In return, Izzy answers Clary's questions about the non-magical world. She presses her lips together to keep from laughing when Clary starts using the word Muggle when talking about something non-magical. Clary's parents are both magical, and though Clary's mother is a Muggleborn and works at a Muggle job, her parents divorced when Clary was young and she doesn't see her, or her side of the family, much, so the Muggle world is a mystery to her.

    The light outside is fading when Morris decides to join them, purring as he winds himself through Isabelle's and Clary's legs, asking to be fed and petted. His fur is warm like he's been lying in the sun all day. Isabelle pets him while looking curiously up at Clary.

    "Do you have your own private sun on your balcony or something?"

    "Actually, I do," Clary nods with a proud smirk. "It was pretty tricky to set up, actually."

    "Can I see it?" Izzy asks excitedly.

    Clary leads the way to the balcony, which appears to have been magically extended to almost twice the length of Izzy's. The floor is covered in grass that feels soft and springy, even though Isabelle's wearing shoes. She doesn't think she recognizes half of the plants and flowers growing here. When she sees the small yellow orb, sinking down over the edge of the balcony, disappearing from view, Izzy gapes.

    "I set it so it follows the same schedule as the normal sun," Clary explains. She brushes her hand over the purple flower bud. It leans into the touch. "Flowers need their sleep too. Some literally."

    Izzy laughs in delight. She walks to the railing, feeling like a little girl walking through a magical forest, and looks down at the street below.

    "You shielded it from view? Like you do with the sound in your apartment?" Isabelle asks. She reaches out to the sinking yellow orb but quickly pulls her hand back.

    "You can touch it," Clary says, standing next to her, cupping the miniature sun in her hand. The light ripples then settles, and continues sinking through Clary's hand. "And yes. I think it would raise some question if people saw a small sun hovering over my balcony, don't you?"

    Isabelle hums in agreement, brushing a finger over the sun. It's warm, not painful like a flame or a light bulb that's been on for a while, but like the sun on her skin on a warm summer's day. Her cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling, but she can't stop it. When she turns to Clary, Clary is smiling just as wide.

    "So," Izzy begins, turning to Clary, resolve firm in her mind but nerves churning her stomach. "You've shown me some of the wonders of the wizarding world. Can I show you some of the wonders of the Muggle world?"

    "Oh, I haven't even started on the wonders of my world," Clary smirks at her.

    "I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date."

    "I'd like that." Clary moves a little closer, so their arms are pressed together as they watch Clary's little sunset. "What wonder of the Muggle world are you going to show me first?"

    "Have you ever been to a carnival?"