CSI: New York

sarramaks - Oh, sorry about that. I just, well, kind of assume that Danny would have already said that "there are things cannot be explained" so that was why Flack had asked that. I hope I'm making sense…or not. But it's okay. It is a mistake anyway. Never assume. Heh. Thanks for the review! ( :

demolished-soul - Yeah...well, according to Isabelle, they kissed. But read on and you'll find out soon. Oh, thank you, thank you, and thank you for reviewing my story! I appreciate it really. It makes me happy. Hehe. XD

X

Phantasmagoria

Phantasmagoria by definition is a scene that is something like you see in a dream.

Seven

Don plopped himself down on the bed, sighing. He remembered how close he was leaning toward Isabelle, up to the point that their faces were merely an inch apart. He could still remember how she smelt – sweet and light. It was the same fragrance he would always smell on her. He could still remember seeing the sparkles in her eyes, like two sparkling emeralds, looking back at him. And her lips…he chuckled to himself. There was no smear at all but she rubbed at it anyway, tricked into believing him.

She was beautiful…but he found her too annoying recently. Not that he did not find her annoying when she was working with him the last time; she was, but it was tolerable. Now, she was just too annoying up to the point he wanted to throttle her.

His eyes somehow landed upon her box by his bedroom door. It was just then he realized that he was slipping down by the foot of his bed. Letting himself completely off of the bed, he crawled the remaining distance to get to the box itself.

His hands reached for the tape and he stopped. He debated. Do I open it? He pulled his hands back. Do I not open it? His hands moved forward. He was just that close to ripping the tape apart. What was holding him back? He could just always tape it back and pretend he did not see anything, right? Open, no? He pulled his hands away once again but this time crawling away from the box. Then he turned back around. Open it, damn it! He was arguing with himself. No, I'm better than that. Looking through people's stuff! He scoffed. Open it; you know you want to…

The voice was taunting him more and more these past few days.

Then, as if it was a sign for him to just leave the poor box alone, he cell phone went off.

"Flack," he answered, rubbing at his shin which he had successfully and clumsily ran into the metal frame of his bed, on his way of trying to get to the phone. He was somewhat glad there was a call so he would not be crawling back and forth across his bedroom floor like a demented man.

"Listen, I know you weren't sleeping when you took this call," Danny blurted out. Don kissed her? He looked back at Lindsay's apartment door which was ajar. Isabelle had run out after spilling the beans; she freaked out. Apparently, she was not supposed to say anything.

And she did.

"I was thinking and debating," Don admitted.

Danny dropped himself back down on the couch, exasperated the minute he heard Isabelle muttering obscenities outside. "Isabelle's not really okay right now," he told him. Then there was silence on the other line. He waited for him to say something…and waited…and waited…and he could no longer bear the silence. "Were you just thinking about her and debating on letting me know about the crystal and the kiss? So the crystal is not that big of a deal, but kissing her?"

"Wha—" Don frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Isabelle, I'm talking about her, damn it!" If Don was frowning, he was laughing right now – hard. That made Danny felt like he was the biggest fool he had ever been in his entire life. "What are you laughing at?"

"You," Don caught his breath. "Why the hell are you even mad?"

Danny thought about it. Why am I mad? "I'll tell you why. You kissed her, Don. Need I to refresh your memory?" He mimicked him. "'What makes you think I'm going to even date her?' 'Her, oh come on, I've got better taste than that.' 'She gets on my nerves.' 'She's got a mouth as big as a horse.'" Danny took a long deep breath before he screamed into the phone, "you kissed her, damn it! That, I don't understand – at all!"

"Where did you hear that from?" Don demanded. He was furious on the inside but kept his voice calm.

"From Isabelle," he simply replied.

Don took that in – slowly. Isabelle…Isabelle…Isabelle, her name echoed in his head. Isabelle…Isabelle…Isabelle…Isabe— One more time, he was going to go crazy. "WHAT? I didn't kiss her – never been there!"

"Yeah, well, keep saying—"

Don tuned him out right then, dumbfounded. He never kissed her actually, never. He did give her the crystal as a gift but he did not kiss her. Why would she say something like that? And he got this crazy idea of her lusting for him to make her say that. He could literally see the fire in her eyes every time their eyes met.

Then it finally dawned on him exactly what Isabelle was doing: she was playing his 'war'.

…she is not lusting for me.

And she had no intention of saying sorry either.

…and the fire in her eyes is anger.

"I got to go and do something," Don blurted out almost immediately as Danny went rambling on and on. He hung up, walked over—not crawling anymore—to the box and ripped the tape away.

He might be debating earlier – not anymore.

X

Isabelle walked briskly, her heels clacking. She was heading for the office building, trying to push the feeling of guilt aside. It had been two days after that night in Lindsay's apartment, two days of feeling guilty and two days of wondering how she would return those boxes without running into Mac or Danny or Lindsay or Stella or Sheldon…especially not Don. Not at the precinct, anyway.

True, the crystal was from Don that she accepted and which was once placed on her nightstand. As for the kiss…well, that was the reason why she was guilty. He never kissed her. She did not know what made her say that; it just slipped. After all, he did say he wanted to 'play' and that he was going to make sure she lose and apologize to him.

Well, she was not going to say sorry or lose to him…without a fight.

She had no intention of making things easy for him either.

"It's nice to see you again, Isabelle."

She turned her head immediately upon hearing the voice. She almost wanted to break out into a sprint, away from him right then. She almost did, but did not. However, she did frown at him before breaking the gaze and continued walking without saying anything and pretending that she did not know him. "What, you going to walk away from me?"

"I am walking away from you," she stated as he caught up with her. "What do you want, Don? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

He scoffed at the question. "Excuse me, but you did bring this upon yourself. You told Danny something that I know and you know that we both know is absolutely not true."

She went quiet for a moment as they continued walking. She was thinking of what to say next. Don waited patiently for her to say something. As they crossed over to the other side, she suddenly remembered Emily was waiting for her arrival by the entrance and she did not want her to be seen with this tall man.

"Can you just," she stopped walking immediately as soon as Emily was insight and turned to face him. "Can you just go away?" she said unsurely. "Stop following me."

He shrugged. "I want to get even with you."

"Well now is not the time," she reasoned, glancing over her shoulders. Emily was looking her way. She turned to face him only to find out that his eyes did not quite meet hers. "Don, go, now."

He smiled down at her. "Why don't you introduce me to your friend, hmm?"

"Why the hell should I? Don, please just go."

"I looked into your box the other night," he admitted. "You cut the poor teddy bear up?"

"You looked into my box?" she exclaimed. "What rights do you have going through my things? The tape is there for a reason, Don! It's supposed to be sealed. I can't believe you did that—" he looked away and saw Emily approaching. "—that box is mine!" She took a deep breath and Don waited for to start again. "So what if I cut the poor teddy bear up? FYI, you're the cause of its—" She talks too much. "—dismemberment. I need to vent my anger out and the only thing that is worth venting out at is the stupid bear which reminds me—"

He silenced her with his lips.

He kissed her, in public no less.

She was numb then. She did not know what to do or how to react. She stood rigid in his arms, against his chest, looking at him with wide eyes.

I talk too much.

X

Um...not really how I wanted it to be but I hope it's okay. I've been rewriting this over and over because I find it dissatisfying. Sorry for the delay, by the way. I'm afraid I can't really update as frequent as I've been with producing the first six chapters. School has started and well, things are getting hectic once again. But I will update.