Chapter 3

He was rushing through the streets to get home, leaping over puddles and bumping into strangers who then gave him dirty looks. There was a beautiful woman waiting for him. There was a long weekend coming up, and his plans were to spend as much of it as he possibly could with Isobel. Preferably with minimal clothing. This weekend was particularly celebratory, not simply because there was an extra day of the weekend, but also because he had finished the first week his internship under the renowned Dr. Green at Melvin Hospital in the psychiatric ward. There was a third reason for celebration, and because of it he was most excited to get home. There was a small box in his pocket that he kept squeezing to make sure it hadn't disappeared. In it was a ring intended for the finger of the one waiting for him.

"Isobel. Isobel," he called into the apartment as he entered.

He saw her looking out the window with her arms crossed. He approached her.

"Hello beautiful," he said, sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waste.

In an instant, she'd thrown him off of her. "Who are you?" she shouted.

He stared at her confusedly for a moment, not understanding what he assumed to be a joke. Then he saw her. She was dressed differently and her eyes; they were not the ones he knew. "Who are you?" he shot back.

"Jonathan!" he heard from behind him. He turned around and saw his Isobel. He then looked back to the other Isobel then back to the one he knew. His head swam before he remembered a vital fact: Isobel had a twin.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, almost laughing. "This is Anglela!"

"Yeah," replied Isobel, amusedly.

"You must be the guy," interjected Angela, not quite as amused as Isobel or Jonathan.

Jonathan was put off by the displeasure in her voice and immediately put up his defenses. He became the man he was at work; professional, curt but as personable as possible.

"It's good to finally meet you," he said, offering his hand.

"Like wise," she responded, a small, forced smile on her face.

They may look alike, he thought, But she is nothing like Isobel.

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Dinner went by rather uneventfully. Isobel explained that Angie had decided to drop by to surprise her. Though the evening felt like it was going on forever, Jonathan did his best to not show it, for Isobel's sake. He did his best to feign interest in the things she said and not be rude (as he knew he could be) when he disagreed.

Finally, Angela explained that she had to leave in order to catch a midnight flight to L.A.

"She hated me," he complained to her later that night in bed.

"No she didn't," she reassured him, gently rubbing his shoulder, sitting herself in his lap.

"She hated me," he sang, rubbing her thighs.

"She's a detective; she's naturally skeptical."

"Still, I thought she'd never leave."

"She's my sister! I couldn't just send her packing."

She bit back a moan when he put his fingers inside of her.

"I know, I know. But I just wanted to spend the evening with you." He emphasized the last word by thrusting his fingers into her hard.

"You mean you wanted to spend the evening inside me."

"I mean I just wanted to spend the evening inside you." He kissed her grinningly in agreement.

With that, he tossed her legs off of his lap and climbed on top of her, beginning to spread her legs with his knee. Laying her on her back, he stayed there, between her legs, his head resting on her breasts, her legs wrapped around his back. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her soft skin against his cheek, the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and scratching at his scalp. It was wonderful, just lying there, his mind free of all thoughts save what he could touch and smell. Well, there was one other thought on his mind, and he desperately wanted to enact it.

Her legs tightened around him as he moved her body up. He opened his eyes and saw her sultry smile of anticipation that was growing more by the second. Unlike what she expected though, he reached behind her head, sticking his hand down between the mattress and the head-board. The expression on her face quickly changed.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't respond; he just continued blindly searching behind the mattress.

"Jonathan?"

"Umm, just give me one second... yes!" He then turned bashful. "This was supposed to go smoother than that."

"Jonathan, what are you talking about?"

Suddenly his heart froze. Terror took hold of him in a way he had never known it could. What if she said no? What if she laughed at him and never wanted to look upon him again?

"Baby? Are you okay?" Isobel asked, growing worried. "You're getting that look like when I tried to explain how to use the VCR... only worse."

"I..." he rolled off of her and sat up. Hanging his head, he stared at the square black box cradled in his hands.

Soothingly, she placed a hand on his thigh. "What is it?" she asked.

It was hard for him to find the words, but after a few moments of struggling they began to come.

"I'm sorry that I can't be the kind of man I should be. I just can't do the things that... Isobel?" He saw tears slowly run from her eyes. The sight of it made his throat close slightly, as if he were being suffocated. He took her hand. "Please, don't cry, Isobel. What have I done to make you cry?"

She snatched her hand away from him. "You're breaking up with me," she whispered, pulling her legs to her body and hiding her face behind her knees.

His eyes grew wide in horror. "NO! No! That's not what... I'm not... Oh Isobel." He wrapped his whole body around her, his own voice on the verge of tears. "How could I ever leave you? I know you deserve better than me, but..."

At that she threw him off her body. "Who are you to say what I do and don't deserve!" she yelled at him.

A small, "Uhh...," was all he could get out before she continued berating him.

"All my life people have been telling me what's true and what's not, and despite the fact that I know what it is that believe is what's true, no one has ever given me the right to make my own truths." She took his face in her hands. "Before you, I really thought I had things figured out. I know you don't believe in God, but I do believe in Him and I thought I'd found all the answers I needed in religion. Then you showed up and ruined it and that scared me, Jonathan, it terrified me. But then I realized you are the answer to all those questions; the way I love you is the truest thing I know. Now my only fear is of loosing you. So don't tell me I don't deserve you when you're the only thing worth living for. Telling me that I don't deserve you is telling me that I don't deserve to live!"

She desperately searched his face for any sign of recognition. His gaze was alarmed and intensely focused on her. His lips moved, as if to speak, but no words came out. This made her anxious and nervous. She shook him.

"Say something!" she urged.

"Marry me," he said, without hesitation.

She looked at him as though he had just spoken in an alien tongue. "What?"

Sitting up straighter, his intonation lowered to a sure and steady register. "Marry me," he repeated and presented the little black box, opening it to reveal a golden ring holding a small diamond in its center.

At this she appeared to grow angrier and was practically sobbing. "God damn it, Jonathan!" She hit him in the shoulder several times as she spoke between tears. "You put me through all this just to ask me a simple question like that?"

"Yes?" was his meek response. He held the ring in front of his face as if it could protect him from her wrath.

"You're such an idiot sometimes! Of course I'll marry you!"

She was still crying as he took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. The tears became fewer after the first few kisses. By the time their bodies had become one, all traces of tears were gone.

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After she'd accepted his proposal, he'd thought it would be terribly romantic and manly of him to make love to her right then. He imagined leaving her speechless in a fit of exatlcy. Yet it was he who lay covered in sweat, barely able to move after having just been ravaged by his new fiancee. He turned to look at her and saw her stretching and twitching about excitedly. She held her hand out in front of her, turning it and looking at it in different angle. She was giddy at the sight of the ring he'd placed on her finger.

How can she even move? he struggled to understand. Forcing his tired body to move, he reached out to her and hugged her, laying on his side.

Strangely, his mind wandered to the way she'd scratch his abdomen to tickle him. His hand wandered to her own abdomen. He watched as he slowly passed his palm over her flat belly several times, the friction warming her skin and his hand, wondering what she would look like with a slight roundness. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt a tingle inside himself he had never felt before. What would she think if he said it out loud?

She tugged his hair to get his attention. "You thinking about kids already?"

So, he didn't have to say out loud. He smirked up at her, a little embarrassed. "Maybe."

She bit her bottom lip and met his smirk with one of her own. With the back of her hand, she stroked his cheek. "We'd make beautiful babies. Not right now, but eventually."

He felt as though he were floating and on fire at the same time. We'd make beautiful babies. It rang in his head and made him dizzy with happiness. The words came out of his mouth before his aching body could reason with him.

"Wanna' practice?"

She didn't need to be asked a second time, as she was on top of him inside of five seconds.