CSI: New York

Phantasmagoria

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

Ten

Isabelle ended up going to Miami – alone.

It was not her idea; it was Don's, and she did not agree to it immediately after he suggested it. Why did she have to agree to it? After all, Aiden did come to him for help, not her. So basically, it should be him going to Miami with the mission of returning Jason Pearce's box; not her. In fact, she found no reason why she was even part of this. Even if the box did reach her, that did not mean she had to get involved.

She did not want to get involved.

She eyed the vibrating cell phone on her nightstand. It was bad enough that she got dragged into this, and now he refused to leave her alone by constantly calling and asking if she had returned the box yet. It had been two days now and he never failed to make those calls to ask her about it, and every time, she had to come up with all sorts of excuses about not being able to get a hold of him, not being able to contact him…and this time, when she answered the call, was no exception.

"That woman gave us a fake address," she lied, fiddling with the paper in her hands. It was the address, and it was not a fake one. She had gone to the house yesterday but the house appeared to have nobody at home. Furthermore, she did not bring the box along, so even if she knocked, and if he opened up, what would she say to this Jason Pearce?

Don sighed on the other line. He was in his hotel room. Of course Isabelle did not know that he was in town. He only decided to come because apparently, Aiden had made it clear to him that she was not kidding about making his life—both of his and Isabelle's life actually—miserable.

"It's fake, huh?" he asked, not believing her that she actually lied, despite the fact he had told her that Aiden had been slapping him the past two days. Was Isabelle enjoying that? He bet she was. "It isn't a fake address, Belle. You think I'm that stupid?"

She pondered for a moment. No, he was not stupid but he could be very oblivious at times, oblivious to people's reactions, to people's feelings. "You're an insensitive jerk, that's all."

He ignored her remark. "Look, you only have to return the box, that's all. I'm not asking you to go one step further by getting his phone number or meeting him in person. Just leave the box by the door, that's it. Is it that hard of a task for you to do?"

That was all he ever did: complaining and ordering her around. Sure she could do that, just leave the box by the door and leave. Sure the address was not a fake. Sure the house belonged to Jason Pearce, but what if he had moved out? What if he did not inform that useless blonde ex-girlfriend of his in New York? What if he was not even in the state?

Then that box would be left by someone who was not even related to him in any way, which then led to a serious problem for Don to deal: was Aiden going to keep visiting him if that ever happened?

"Hey, if doing that is so easy for you," she spat into the phone, "why don't you go and do it yourself? Better yet, since you know this damn Jason Pearce, why don't you return it to him in person instead of ordering me around doing this shit for you while you sit at your desk shaking your legs? If you make it sound so simple, go do this yourself."

"Has anyone told you that you talk too much?" he asked, "because you do. Don't answer that. Come and meet me—no, I'll come and meet you. Where are you now?"

"My mother's house," she replied slowly. "You're not in New York, are you?"

"So you're not that stupid," he said sardonically. "Go get ready because when I arrived, I'm dragging you along with me to Jason's. Don't forget the box too." With that, he hung up.

She stared at the phone, mortified. There was going to be a problem.

X

As soon as Don got out of the taxi, he felt like going back inside and have the driver drove him back to the hotel. Of course, nothing of such happened. Even if he wanted to get back inside, Isabelle's mother had already snaked her arms around his torso and pulled him in a really tight hug. He had hugged her back, but it was not Isabelle's mother that had made him wanting to go back to the hotel; it was the people who were making their way out of the front door – the family.

"Uh, Mrs. DeFranco," he whispered after she released him from her hug. "Did I come at the wrong time?" He looked at them; they looked back at him with smiles while a baby in a man's arms wailed out. He cringed at the sound. Listening to babies wailing out was not that pleasant.

Mrs. DeFranco laughed. "How many times do I need to remind you? Just call me Julia and no," she smiled, guiding him towards the front door, towards the people, "don't be silly. This is the perfect time for you to come."

And by perfect she meant that Don would be spending time with the rest, she meant he would be getting to know with the rest better, and she meant that she could introduced him to the family.

As if I'm getting married to him, Isabelle thought, glaring at her mother and then at Don from the window. She hurried back into the kitchen and wiped the plates dry while the black haired guy, whom her mother introduced to her as the best youngest chef in the kitchen at her restaurant, busied himself around the kitchen in preparing for today's lunch for the whole family.

It was no special occasion – just one of those typical days of family gathering thing. She was not that too thrilled about it, especially after realizing that Don was in town and that he was already inside the house. She could hear her mother's shrilling voice already gushing over something about Don, no doubt.

"Isabella is it?" the chef asked, looking at her with his hazel eyes when she turned to face him. "I'm sure that's not it, something like—"

"Isabelle," she corrected, smiling at him. He nodded at her, grinning sheepishly. She stacked the clean plate on top with the rest which she had been wiping earlier. "Anything I can do for you, Jake?"

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it back. He held a finger towards her and grinned. "So I'm not the only one with getting the names mixed up."

It was her time to smile at him sheepishly. Her mother had introduced him to her earlier but she did not quite register his name into her head mainly because she was still in the daze-like state from her deep sleep—or maybe because she was just too mesmerized with his physical appearance. What not with his vivid green eyes that stood out from the paleness of his skin, the velvety voice of his when he spoke, and the smile that was just too adorable that she could not help but take notice of his dimples…oh, that smile.

"It's Jace, not Jake," he laughed, turning away from her and walked over to the stove. "Anyway, I was just wanting to tell you about your skirt there," he gestured his head towards the white lacey material that hugged the curves of her hips, stopping just right above her knee that showed off her smooth long legs, whose feet donned a pair of matching white stilettos with black lace trimmings.

"What about my skirt? Is it hideous? Oh my God. It is, isn't it?"

Jace could not help but laugh at her sudden insecurity. "It's not, trust me. It's gorgeous." He smiled that annoyingly adorable smile. She stood still as he neared her and turning her around, so her back was to him. "But there's this one hideous spot down there." He grabbed the hem of the skirt as she looked over her shoulders. "May be it's the tomato sauce you helped me with just now."

"Oh," she said as she turned and faced him back awkwardly. He's staring at me. She took a step back and tossed the cloth on the countertop. "Um, I think I better go change."

X

"Maybe he has moved?" Isabelle suggested as Don kept on knocking on the front door. He did not turn around to say anything. He acted as if she had not talked at all. Frustrated that he had been ignoring her ever since they had left the house, she got into the car that her mother insisted of using and glared at his back.

It was nice to actually see him donning just a button-down blouse instead of in a suit. So she just sat there and continued glaring though few minutes later into it, her face had softened and was staring at him instead. She fiddled with the radio station, back and forth and then turned it off. She buckled up.

Don was heading back to the car.

He opened the door to the driver seat, which she was currently in and managed to frown as he unbuckled the seat belt for her. "I'm driving."

She hesitantly got out of the seat and brushed past him as she walked to the other side. "I told you he's not home. You've wasted your time knocking on a door to an empty house."

"No one's at home," he mumbled backing out of the driveway. "You told your mum we 'broke up', right?" She nodded. "She didn't believe you?" She nodded again. "She thought you were joking about it?" She repeated the same movement. This can't be good, he thought. "Can you say something instead of nodding?"

"So, what now?" she asked.

"I guess we're going back for lunch."

And when they arrived home, it was not really lunch straight away. Don met Jace for the first time and the two stared at each other – for long, looking speechless and confused. The two looked as if they were having a staring contest. Julia stood not far from them and observed.

"You two know each other?" she asked but received no reply.

Isabelle struggled with Jason's box into the house. "Jeez, Don, you're such a gentleman. Could you at least please have some chivalry and help me with this?"

Don turned around and asked, "You know this guy?" He was pointing at Jace.

"Should I?" she asked slowly.

"This is Jason Pearce."

X

I know. It took me long to get this posted. I apologize.

sarramaks - :D. I guess it is.

demolished-soul - Heh. No biggie. Long or short, I appreciate it!