CSI: New York

Phantasmagoria

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

TWELVE

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, dropping her gaze down to the floor.

Don rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and covered a yawn. He blinked a few times to better his blurry vision and looked at her stonily. "It's eight in the morning, Belle," he mumbled, leaning against the doorframe sleepily.

She nodded, clearly aware of what time it was. "Don," she called out meekly, her voice soft and gentle – and alluring too. He looked up just in time to see her covering up the gap and brushed her delicate fingers across his cheek, past his ears until her fingers were lost in his dark mane at the back of his head. She tugged at the waistband of his pants that he had slept in last night and pulled him up against her. Almost seductively, she brushed her lips against his ear and whispered,

"My only love," she breathed into his ear, kissing it, "sprung from," she kissed his jaw before she moved to his face, her hot breath pricking at his skin, "my only hate." Slowly, ever so slowly, she placed her lips upon his. It was a kiss of bliss.

If only it was not a dream.

He found himself groaning at the sound of his hotel room door being knocked upon. He bolted up right in bed, wondering if he had been dreaming of what he thought he just dreamt. My only love sprung from my only hate. He frowned at that. It was Danny's fault. He had said that, and Don had his voice echoing in his head late last night. My only love sprung from my only hate.

The knocking became louder.

He walked over to the door and opened up immediately. He stumbled back when he saw Isabelle – because of the dream earlier. She looked at him strangely. "Isabelle?"

She lowered her gaze to the floor and sighed. "I'm sorry."

He blinked and thought of what to say next. She returned her gaze back on him when he did not say anything. That only made her more anxious. "Don, come on, I said I'm sorry."

"About," he cleared his throat and pushed the dream aside from his mind, "what?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "About yesterday, I'm sorry, okay? My mother's not talking to me right now because her 'soon-to-be son-in-law' did not stay for lunch because of her daughter which she claimed had acted a little immature for her age. She said I should be willing to compromise and guess what, I agree on everything she said about me. So I'm taking the blame and apologizing to you. I'm sorry."

He shrugged at her, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm not accepting your apology." He watched as her lips formed into a frown. "It's only because there's nothing for you to apologize about, Belle."

"I need to bring you home with me," she blurted out. "She went ballistic on me when she found out you're staying at a hotel. I don't understand. I'm feeling guilty right now, so grab your bags and we'll drive home."

"I thought she's not talking to you?"

She invited herself in. "That was before the Jason thing happened."

X

Lisa, a bubbly, friendly and a very demanding child of six year old sulked in her chair at the table next to her favorite aunt. Though, at this point of time, she was the least favored person in the entire world. Lisa wanted to play with her, wanted her all to herself. She wanted to show her new beautiful Barbie doll which she named it Isabelle, but her aunt was just too engrossed having conversations with the adults.

When she saw her other cousins running past the dining table with several toys in hand, she felt this sudden pang of jealousy. There they were having fun with each other while she sat there sulking, alone, waiting for her aunt to play with her. She had vainly declined their invitation to play with them because she wanted to play with only her favorite aunt.

"Aunt Belle," she whined out loud, head looking up at the corniced ceiling while she kicked her legs under the mahogany table. "Can we go play now?"

Jace glanced at Lisa and flashed a smile but was surprised when she glared at him instead, crossed her arms and looked away with her head held high. Don who saw her gesture laughed. Isabelle looked down at her.

"Lisa, sweetie," Mel, Lisa's mother spoke up. "Why don't you play with Brianna? She's playing with dolls, too."

"Yeah," Isabelle agreed, nodding at her. "You go play with her first, and then I'll come and join you two."

Lisa did not say anything nor did she move; she just sat there in the chair, not moving a muscle and sulked even more. She even had tears in her eyes. Isabelle sighed, again, feeling the guilt eating on her insides. She did not really want to play doll with Lisa because it was just stupid. Do not get her wrong; she loved Lisa, it was just the idea of mimicking voices for the dolls that just made her feel…pathetic. The whole thing was pathetic.

Of course, Lisa did not know about that; no one did. Well, except Isabelle's mother.

"I'll play with you," Jace offered suddenly, downing the remaining water from his glass. He could feel eyes on him when he said that but that did not bother him. Seeing that Lisa was looking at him with that sulking face of hers, he smiled at her again. "Come on; let's see that doll collection of yours."

"I want Aunt Belle," Lisa mumbled, sniffing.

"Well," Jace leaned forward across the table. "Aunt Belle can't play with you right now."

"Why can't she?" She looked up to Isabelle. "Are you sick? You look a tiny weeny pale. But you've always been pale; just like momma, and you're not coughing or sneezing at all. You don't look sick to me, so I don't think you're sick but you may be sick; it's just that you don't know that you're sick. But you look tired though."—she took a deep breath in—"You must be pregnant then?—"

Mel dropped her fork, Don choked on his drink, Julia had stopped munching on the food in her mouth, Jace looked amused and Isabelle stared at her blankly.

"—because when momma was, she looked just as pale and as tired as you are. She didn't want to play with me because she said she'll get tired and it's not good. Am I going to have a baby cousin? I would like a baby cousin."

It was silent then.

Julia spoke up. "Are you—"

Isabelle turned to her in disbelief and cut her off with a firm and assuring tone: "No, ma, I'm not." She looked down at Lisa. "Let's go play doll." Lisa did not move. She looked at Jace, as if pondering. Isabelle frowned. "What's the matter? You don't want to play doll anymore?"

Lisa grinned suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Let's play ball with Jace!"

X

sarramaks – Thank you.

demolished-soul – XD! Glad to know!