The next week and a half go by quickly. Derek and I spend most of the days plotting President White's downfall.

I remove the DSS from my bag and place it on the metal table before Brandon. "Everything is on this baby." I smile, pressing my thumb to the DSS, the screen glowing.

"Amazing. Now we need to transfer it to my files." He claps his hands twice, and the DLS that's taking up the entire back wall comes to life. "Transfer files," he says.

"Are we done here?"

He nods. "Thank you for retrieving these."

"It was simple," I say, slipping the DSS into my jacket's pocket before strolling out of the mechanical room.

...

I find Skyler with Tony in the training room. Dr. Monroe has been extremely helpful by slowly and cautiously releasing patients without President White's knowledge. He's taking a massive risk and I'm grateful to him for doing so.

"Hey," Tony smiles crookedly, placing the gun he was practicing with back in the crate.

"Hey. Have you seen Noah or Demi?"

He shakes his head.

"I noticed them sneaking into the storage room about five minutes ago," Skyler pipes up, a smirk on her face.

"Of course," I mumble.

I know it's not the nicest of things, but I don't really care at the moment. Marching up to the storage closet, I fling the steel door open.

"What in the world?" Noah cries, quickly pulling away from Demi. "Couldn't you just knock and give us a warning?" His cute boyish face is beet red. It's kind of adorable.

"No, because you shouldn't be here in the first place." I cross my arms over my chest. "Demi please get back to your training and Noah you are wanted by Brandon in the mechanical room."

I catch him cursing under his breath.

"You better hurry," I tell him, "Don't want to keep Brandon waiting, do you?"

He turns to Demi. "I'll see you later."

She nods and he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before running off.

Demi then looks at me, her cheeks flushed. "Please knock next time," is all she says, fixing her shirt and sulking out of the room.

...

"There you are." Strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. "I've been searching everywhere for you."

I lean back into Derek. "How can I be of service?"

"I'll show you. Follow me," he whispers, letting go of my waist and taking hold of my hand.

"Where are we going?" I wonder, curious.

"I hired someone."

"What?" I'm confused.

He says nothing as he drags me down the hallway and ushers me into an empty room.

"Derek, what's going on?" His secrecy is really starting to frustrate me. I know some girls would find all this silence and mystery romantic--- not me.

The door behind us opens and a man enters.

"Meet Roman, my late mother's favorite tailor," Derek says.

"A pleasure to meet you," Roman smiles.

Before taking hold of his outstretched hand, I take him in. He's young, about twenty-seven with rich, cocoa brown skin the same color as his eyes and a bleached blonde mohawk. He's wearing a deep purple, silk robe with black loose-fitted pants--- He seems like an oddball.

I finally take his outstretched hand and shake it. "Same," I lie.

"You might be wondering why Derek has called for me," he purrs.

My eyes flit to Derek for a moment to find him grinning. "Yeah, you got that right."

"I have been hired to design the most magnificent costume for this coming up masquerade ball."

Groaning, I turn to Derek who's still smiling. "You have to be kidding me. Can't I just go in my PJs?"

He laughs. "No, Alice, you can't."

I bare my teeth at him. "You know I hate you."

He cups my chin and tilts my head back so I'm looking right into his dark eyes dotted with specks of gold. "I wouldn't lie if I were you."

Roman clears his throat. I almost forgot he was here and I believe Derek did too. "Should we um, begin," he says.

Derek lets go of me and takes a step back. "She's all yours. Have fun."

"Derek," I cry, but he's already gone, leaving me with this strange man.

...

Roman holds a rosy pink fabric before me. I shake my head.

"Not a girly girl then."

I just glower at him.

"Guess not." He sucks in his cheeks while rummaging through the chest of fabrics he brought along with him. "Aha," he exclaims, raising a shimmery gold silk before me.

I smile. Now we're talking. He smiles back, getting to work by measuring my body from top to bottom.

He pulls out other cloths--- yellow, orange, and white and drapes them around me.

"What are you designing?"

"The meaning of the name Alice is nobility like the sun whose rays show power. The world can't carry on without it." His lips curve up on the sides. "Alice, you're going to be going to the masquerade ball as the sun!"

I can't keep a straight face. "Wow, that's farfetched."

He giggles, bending over as he does, and slaps at his knees. Okay, now he confirmed it. He's a weirdo.

After a minute of sounding like a dying hyena, he catches his breath and looks at me. "Yes it is farfetched, but it is also brilliant."

I begin to shuffle from foot to foot impatiently. "If you say so. Now can we please finish up here?"

"Oh, of course."

He continues to design the dress. And deep down below, I'm praying that he knows what he's doing. Because I want to look absolutely magnificent at the ball. I want to make those around me jaws drop and eyes pop. So I stand extremely still as he does his work.

...

"So what do you think of Roman?"

I sink into the soft cushions of the couch and rest my heavy head on Derek's shoulder. Today has been exhausting. "He's weird."

"Yeah, but he's extremely talented."

"If you say so." I begin to rub at my temples, hoping to get rid of my headache, which started about a few hours ago with the churning in my stomach.

Derek looks at me amused. "I do."

The digital clock beeps twelve times announcing midnight. I yawn, snuggling up closer to my man, trying to ignore the aches in my body.

"It's late," he states. "Should we head to bed?"

"I'm too tired to budge."

Before I know it, he's picking me up like a rag doll and carrying me to bed.

I curl up underneath the blankets--- sensing the warmth of him next to me.

"Good night Alison," he murmurs.

I turn my head to the side, watching him. He looks back at me and smiles. "What?"

"I'm just trying to remember this moment. Me. You. Here together."

"Why?"

I look away. "In case something happens."

He takes my hand, his thumb rubbing circles in my palm. "Nothing bad is going to happen, you hear me?"

I nod.

"Good. Now go to bed." He presses his lips to my still-aching temple.

Closing my eyes, I drift off to sleep my hand still in his as if he wants to hold it for insurance, making sure I won't disappear. Something I never plan on doing.

...

I lean over the toilet emptying all the contents in my stomach.

"Alice?" Derek enters the bathroom his eyes landing on me. "Oh no, what's wrong?"

I clutch at my stomach which is churning. A lot worse than last night. "Sick. Must be a stomach bug or something," I groan, before vomiting once again into the toilet. The bathroom is starting to reek and I reach out fumbling for the bathroom spray. Derek comes to my rescue, raising the bottle and spraying the sweet, flowery fragrance around the room.

"Poor baby," he then says, crouching down beside me and pushing my sweaty hair out of my face. He brings his lips to my forehead. "You're burning up. Let's get you into bed."

I'm too weak to argue, although I really want to tell him that I need to get to the base and help Brandon.

Derek tucks me into bed and begins to rub my back. "Rest up," he tells me.

"But I just woke up."

"You're sick Alice, sleep."

And that's when everything begins to fade.

...

I thought it might have been a twenty-four-hour virus, but now it seems to be more than that. I think it may be the take-out from a few nights ago. Can it be food poisoning? 

I sit on the couch with my knees hugged to my chest, my eyes glued to the large screen before me playing one of my favorite shows.

"Tea?"

"Yeah, thanks." I take the mug from Derek, the warmth of it spreading into my cold hands.

He sits down beside me and wraps his arm around my shoulder, drawing me close.

"How are you feeling?"

"Betterish."

"That's good."

"Ye..." A knock on the door interrupts me.

"I'll get it. Stay here." Derek stands up and heads for the door.

I hear the creaking of the hinges and footfalls. Derek appears with Brandon in tow.

"Sick. Really Alice?" Brandon doesn't look too happy.

Looking at him from over the rim of my mug I say, "Yeah, I know it's a shocker, but I am human."

He ignores me, turning to Derek. "She better be well by tomorrow. The ball is only four days away and we need her to be back on her feet. We need her."

My stomach goes and does summersaults. Uh oh.

Derek glances over at me, his dark eyes taking in my face. "She'll be all back to herself real soon."

I want to speak up and say, 'hey I'm right here' but my throat begins to burn. Standing up as fast as I can, I dash to the bathroom.

"Make sure of that." Brandon's words trail after me.

I groan. What does he want from me already? Can't he see that I'm as sick as a dog?

The lock bolts into place. Peeling off my clothes, I step into the tub sinking into the warm water.

I scrub and scrub and scrub until all the germs are washed away. I then towel myself off and change into my fuzzy PJs and bunny slippers.

Derek is waiting for me in the bedroom. "I got some meds that should help." He hands me a red tablet and a glass of juice.

"What is it?" The question I always ask when I'm handed random pills.

"The 'cure'," he smirks.

I cringe, not amused.

He notices. "I was just kidding."

Not saying anything, I place the pill into my mouth and chug it down with the too-sweet juice.

"You should be feeling all better soon," he tells me,

"I hope so," I whisper before following him to the kitchen.

...

I enter Brandon's 'office'.

"Good to see you back on your feet."

I ignore him, staring at the screen which is taking up the whole wall in front of us.

From the corner of my eye, I glimpse him smiling. "It's done, thanks to me. I managed to do it without your help."

"I can see." The words spill out through clenched teeth. I really can't stand this guy. For goodness sake I was sick. Really, really sick.

"Three more days and then everything will change."

My eyes finally focus on him. "For the good..."

His long fingers rake through his hair, causing a nice sum of strands to stand on end. "Yeah," he breathes. "Hopefully for the good."

I smile for the first time since my illness has left me. A nice big smile.

...

I'm surprised to find the training room jam-packed. I somehow manage though to spot Noah in a hand-to-hand combat with a really bulky guy. I walk up to them.

"What's going on? Where did all these people come from?"

"Robin. They're all his recruits."

"Robin's back?" I ask surprised.

Noah grins. "See for yourself." He tilts his head to the right. I look, my eyes landing on the redhead surrounded by giggling girls admiring his impressive biceps. I roll my eyes before making my way toward Robin.

Standing at the edge of the group around him, I have my arms crossed over my chest and my eyes slit. Yes, I am peeved. Why? Because he's enjoying himself a little too much when we have a lot of work to do.

"It's good to see you're back," I say at last.

Robin finally notices me, his pale green eyes on me. "Alison," he smiles charmingly. All the girls disperse as he takes slow steps towards me. "I'm glad to see that you are feeling better."

I glare at him. "Yeah, whatever. Don't you have work to do?"

"Yeah, of course. I was just about to go help, Skyler." He runs off before I can question him further.

"Everything alright?" The large guy Noah was wrestling with watches me with bright blue eyes.

"Yeah, all is good."

He smiles, revealing a mouth full of yellow, decayed teeth. "I'm Bill." His hand smothers mine.

"Alice."

"I know, Robin told us all about you."

"Oh, he did..."

Bill's smile widens. "Only good things, don't worry."

I get all serious. "You better not be lying to me?"

He gulps, intimidated. "I am not."

"Good," I say, trying not to laugh.

"Alice?"

I spin on my heels to see Derek approaching us. "Hey," I smile, my heart fluttering widely when I notice just how snug his shirt is today. Wow is he a piece of art.

"Roman's here," he says, drawing me away from my fantasizing which didn't really go anywhere as of yet...

"The dress is ready?"

He smirks. "Possibly."

My hand slides into his. "Where is he?"