~Our Notion~

*This Night*

I tried to straighten my clothes as Samuels dropped me off at the gates, my t-shirt clinging to me with the intense heat along with my skinny jeans and flats, my hair straightened and falling over my shoulders. The sun shone on the Statue of Liberty, making it glint as I moved closer to the gates, hoping that I wouldn't be tranquilized.

The red band around my wrist with my name and the president's stamp, felt as if it were ripping through my skin. I stepped up to the gate, smiling as the door opened, a group of guards stepping up with black suits, sunglasses and earpieces.

I could see the small cameras in the sides of the building, some of them barely visible. The guards walked down the isle, guns in their belts if needed.

"Name?" One of them boomed, stomping up to the gate.

"Vasanti Gray," I said, my wrist flying up.

He inspected it carefully, looking at a sheet of paper in his hands and flew the gate door open, rushing me in.

"Miss Gray, we just have to . . ."

A metal detector stood in front of us and I sighed.

"Yeah, whatever," I whispered, throwing my only metal thing in the box. "Can I have my cell back when I'm in the House?"

They paused for a second, their fingers pressed to their earpieces as they tried to listen to the talk on the other line.

"Yes, Miss Gray, you may," the guard muttered, escorting me in after patting me down.

I smiled, grabbing my BlackBerry and stepping in front of the door to the White House.

"Wait here," someone behind me whispered. "Mr. President will be out soon."

Not a minute after he said that, the president stepped out of the White House, 2o guards seeming to surround him.

"Hello, Miss Gray. I'm glad you could make it," he said in his thick Russian accent. "It's nice to finally meet you."

He extended his hand for me to shake, but I couldn't grab his hand through the thick barrier of humans. I stopped trying after a few minutes of the guards moving around.

"Umm . . ." I muttered.

"Maybe we should meet inside the White House."

"We should," I agreed.

I glided through the doors as the other stayed behind, muttering into their speakers, contacting with all the others. The group around Mr. President finally disappeared, leaving only one, who stood by him at all times.

He had dark blonde hair that blew across his face, his hazel eyes protective and on duty as I smiled at him.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. President," I extended my hand, nodding as he shook it firmly.

He was in a dark blue suit, his red tie with a diagonal pattern tucked under his jacket and his short, thick hair slicked back, his dark brown eyes sloshing around like a liquid.

"Please, call me Arigha," he walked along, hands behind his back.

"Call me Vasanti, then," I said, my flats clacking against the floor.

"Agreed," he smirked. "Let's start the tour."

Trying to pay attention during a tour is nearly impossible, even for a Political nerd like me. Being interested was so hard for me as he explained the history stored in the new and improved White House, now located in the ruins where New York used to be. He talked about how predictable the bombing of Washington D.C. was, and how we took all the important documents and artifacts out before they did it.

I was surprised at one thing though. He had decided to keep the American flag for our Northern Colonies, and he was no different than any other president we'd had in the past, nonetheless better.

"What do you think President Obama's main point was when he won?" Arigha asked, staring at Obama's badge that had his face engraved on it.

"I think that that he wanted to show us that no matter how different our leaders are, we still have leaders that can still change the world, not just him," I answered. "From what I know, he created a domino effect and has created many great leaders; even with some wars lost."

I beamed at him, moving on as he explained how the new-and-improved Italian marble was the strongest thing they could find for the new design of the White House (which still looked like the old one). My hand brushed against the wall, the marble soothing as I walked by, bored to death.

He told me the history of his nation and how he immigrated here when he was raised by a Russian who he promised to that he'd be a strong leader someday.

"Mr. President," the bodyguard beside me whispered, interrupting the tour. "Your meeting has been moved to today . . . it's in a few hours."

"Oh my," Arigha stopped to think for a second. "I'll be in my office in a few minutes."

We walked past a few people, their suits ironed and clipboards clung to their sides, nodding to Arigha as they passed by.

"Secretary of Treasury, Michelle Gulbert," Arigha whispered, pointing to a lady.

She nodded to me, shaking me by the hand, her skirt a perfect color of gray and silver, her blonde hair in curls and her blue eyes wide and alert. Next to her was a man, his dark-gold hair flying across his face, the dark brown eyes tired, and worked up.

"Secretary of State, Matthew Sivertson," he smiled as I shook his hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Sylverstein," I tried to smile as his grip tightened.

"I'm sorry, Miss Gray," Arigha whispered. "I'll have to hand you over to someone who will give you a tour. Its nice how this worked out though; you two will be working closely together in the future." He leaned over to me, his hand covering his mouth. "He's my candidate for president."

"Who's that?" I asked, rushing behind him, trying to keep up with his large strides.

We turned a sharp corner, and down the hall, straight up ahead, was a door. Arigha whooshed through the door and I stepped in behind him, my mind gasping, but my body refusing.

"Senator Nathan Petrelli of the Northern Colonies," Arigha introduced.

Senator Petrelli looked up from his desk, smiling as he saw the president, stiffening and nodding as he looked at me, reminding him of his experience with my brother.

"I hope you don't mind if he's a supporter of Solitudes, and I know that Sylar—"

"We've met before," I gritted my teeth. "Under some . . . unusual circumstances."

"Senator Petrelli, will you please show Ms. Gray to the gardens?" Arigha asked politely. "It's the only place she hasn't been to yet. It's almost time for her to leave after a long tour."

"Yes, I will escort her," Senator Petrelli smiled at Arigha and stood up in his black suit, red tie, and his hair combed to the side professionally.

"The guards will be out there, so don't worry," Arigha muttered, then came up to my ear. "Vote Petrelli!"

"Thank you, Mr. President," Senator Petrelli nodded.

"Anything for you, Nathan."

The door closed behind him, leaving us in an awkward state.

"So then, let's make this snappy," Senator Petrelli grumbled. "I've got to prepare for Mr. President's invitee for a meeting and a tour of the White House."

He stepped out of the door and closed it, taking large steps in front of me, his hands crossed behind his back; I nearly had to run to catch up with him.

What was with people walking so fast?

"But . . ." I stuttered.

"Not now," he muttered.

"But . . ." I was about to scream, but instead, tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, I'd like you to step away," he warned. "My tour for Mr. President's invitee is coming soon, and I've got to look my best for him, we'll be working together in the future, and I don't want to make a bad impression."

"Excuse me!" I yelled out, stepping in front of him. "I'm the one on the tour! I'm the one who will have to work with you in the future! I'm the one who you've already made a bad impression on!"

He was caught by surprise and jumped back immediately, eyebrows raised.

"You mean . . ."

"He never said anything about working with you," I muttered, stomping out the doors of the gates, into the garden.

"What does he see in you?" he asked, and immediately went quiet as I glared at him. "I'm sorry . . . I was expecting someone who'd had more . . . power or look . . ."

". . . More professional?" I answered for him, scoffing and crossing my arms. "I'm more professional than you think."

"I'm sincerely . . . sorry . . ." he uttered, catching up to me as we stepped into the gardens.

"No need . . ." I said, in a daze.

The garden was so huge that it could have consumed the White House with the vines and flowers. It was early spring and the flowers were only starting to bloom, but was still beautiful as I stepped down the trail made of rocks, down and up the different sections and floors.

There was an unusual cross-breed of blue and green flowers, the bush of abundance as I passed by, the thorns seeming to stick out at the moving objects near them.

"May I touch them?" I asked.

"No, it's not permitted," Senator Petrelli muttered.

"Oh, okay," I smiled dazzlingly at the flowers.

The plants wriggled in the wind, their smiles making the sun leap with joy.

"Why didn't you tell me you were Senator Petrelli?" I demanded an answer, my fingers frolicking with ice on the rims. "I was about to kiss you, and you were going to let me?"

"I don't have an answer for you," he mumbled, walking beside me as I stared at the plants and flowers. "It was to fast for me to think."

His pale, ivory skin gleamed in the sunlight, his dark brown hair brushed to the side elegantly. His kind-of muscular outline stood out as he crossed his arms across his chest, looking at me awkwardly as I stared at a Venus fly trap.

"You nearly got murdered by my brother—two times," I whispered. "You should be grateful he let you leave—with your power—and unscathed."

"Should I be scared of him—or his little sister?" he chuckled, the first sign that he had life since I got here.

I glared at him and rolled my eyes as I stepped down a flight of stairs, nearly tripping as I stared into his eyes.

"How are you going to tell your nation . . . who you are?" I gasped. "How long do you think you can contain your secret?"

"It's a personal problem, nobody needs to know about it . . . including the people I support," he pointed to the White House, then spread his arms, meaning the whole world. "They wouldn't understand. It wouldn't be good for my platform if it came out. We would be discriminated."

"Most of what we are is what people want us to be," I grumbled. "You're the one person out of many that need to change that. And it's not a we, it's a you. I don't belong in any groups; I wouldn't be able to choose a side."

"Well then, you don't belong in your brother's clan either?" he taunted.

"Hey!" I cried out, stopping him in his tracks, grabbing his arm. "I don't choose sides. Only when necessary."

A group of bodyguards rushed by, ready to take me away, but I didn't loosen my grip on his arm.

"But you're the one who chooses if you want to be an icicle or not," I warned, letting a puff of cold mist rush out of my lips, rushing towards a group of vines, leaving Senator Petrelli to run after me.

"Wait, Vasanti," he called behind me. "I'm sorry."

"Senator Petrelli," I whispered, stopping and closing my eyes. "Don't apologize to me about my brother."

"I wasn't . . ."

"Stop," I muttered, turning around to face him. "Just go on with the tour. Are there any other places here?"

Senator Petrelli stepped in front of me to lead the way, gesturing for me to follow as he took slow, gradual steps after I almost tripped.

"There's a wishing fountain in the middle of the flower garden," he nodded to the left.

We walked past a growing bush of lilacs and I smiled, taking in the moment to smell them.

"Lilacs," I giggled playfully, the purple blooms seeming to giggle with me.

"Just a little girl," Senator Petrelli whispered to himself, beckoning me to hurry along.

After a million twists and turns around the sculptures and grass statues, he finally halted; pointing to an arch decorated with flowers, and through the arch was a large fountain, sprouting water from the edges.

"Here it is," he finally said. "The wishing fountain."

I looked up from a few Zinnias and gasped at the massive fountain. The fountain had a dragon coiling around the edges, twisting into the middle of the fountain, extending its head to the edge of the fountain in a protective stance, about to attack.

"How do you make a wish?" I asked, my hand dipping into the aqua-blue water as I circled around it, the scales gleaming.

"Hold onto the dragon's hands, close your eyes, and make a wish," he explained.

"May I?"

He nodded to me.

I stepped up to the dragon's face, grabbing his small, fragile hands and stared into the dragon's diamond eyes before closing my own eyes. Memories flooded through my very own eyes; but not my memories.

My mother's.

***

"Make a wish, Lillian," Alicia (my grandmother) whispered, patting her 17-year-old child's back as she flipped a coin.

"Mother, what should my wish be?" Lillian asked, her gold hair and eyes gleaming with excitement of a five-year-old.

"Anything you want, my child," Alicia smiled at her, pushing her along to the pond where the statue of an angel sat, thinking.

"Ms. Angel, what should my wish be about?" she asked the angel politely, tilting her head.

"Anything you want, Daughter of Eve," the angel whispered, moving from its position and smiling at her with a bronze smile. "What did you want to be, but never got the change?"

Lillian's hands dipped in the water and she smiled as her train of thought slipped into her childhood years.

"I wish . . ." she said to the angel. "I could be a princess for one night."

"Miss Lillian, your wish shall be granted," the angel smiled at her and went back to its sitting position of pouring water.

That night, Lillian got to be a princess.

She was at a dance when someone swooped her off her feet and danced with her, just like in a fairy tale. She met an important person to her that night, and never let go of that person until the day she died.

She met my father.

***

I opened my eyes and looked into the eyes of the stone dragon again, smiling at it. My mother would have hat the power to talk to the dragon, asking him multiple questions about what she should wish for.

I wish I could be a princess for one night

I thought it over and over in my head, opening my eyes after a few minutes of repeating it; and I could swear I saw a hint of my mother's gold eyes in the dragon's eyes.

"I'm finished," I smiled as I looked up to Senator Petrelli, who was patiently waiting for me.

I pecked the dragon on the snout, my lip gloss seeming to moisten after the kiss. Standing by Senator Petrelli, I felt small as he was a few inches taller than me, looking down on me as I smiled sheepishly at him.

As we walked into the White House, the guards came in behind us, closing the gates and speaking in low voices.

"Miss . . . Gray, is it?" Senator Petrelli asked, looking at me as we stepped down the hall.

"Yes," I answered.

"Cell?" he held out his hand, waiting.

"Umm . . . here . . ." I handed my BlackBerry to him, turning red.

He typed something in, snapping the keyboard closed, giving it back to me.

"If we're going to qualify to be great partners, you're going to need my cell phone number," he nodded to me.

My mind wandered to different dimensions, and I turned a bright color as my lips pursed. I shifted uncomfortably.

"I meant—political partners," he said, clearly embarrassed, but didn't show it. "Call me when you want me to fly by."

"Miss Gray!" a guard—specifically the president's—called for me. "Over here!"

"Jackson," Senator Petrelli chuckled, his fist trying to contain his laugh as he coughed into it.

"I'd better be off then," I whispered, nodding to him. "Thank you for showing me the gardens, Senator Petrelli."

"Please, call me Nathan," he corrected, nodding to me. "You're a part of us—I mean—this organization now."

"Yes, of course," I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "I'll see you at the ball tonight."

He said adieu to me, touching his forehead with two fingers and waving it off as I stepped away, into the responsibility of Jackson, as he escorted me out. He handed me to another man, just a bit younger than Jackson and was as ripped as him, but stood up like he was in the military.

His long, caramel brown hair was tied into a ponytail, his nearly red eyes, staring . . . unsure about . . . me?

"Miss Gray, this is Dimitri Waysworth," Jackson introduced. "He's one of our oldest guards, so . . . watch out."

I chuckled and nodded, not understanding what he was directing to. Smiling, I shook Dimitri's hand, feeling stupid as Jackson stared at me.

"This is her?" Dimitri called in a gruff and mean voice. "The person who's going to meet the president?"

"Excuse me?" I cried, my head tilting as I studied him.

"Dimitri will be your bodyguard," Jackson finally said. "She is your responsibility for tonight. All night."

Reality slapped me in the face, and reality made sure that it was hard. I gaped at Dimitri, glaring.

"You're kidding . . . right?" I scoffed, turning around and laughing.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gray," Dimitri muttered, escorting me out of the gates. "I'm afraid that he's not kidding. You are not to go out of my sight tonight."

"This is insanity," I grumbled as we climbed into the limo, another limo following behind us. "I. Don't. Need. Protection."

Dimitri stared at me the whole way there.

It got so irritating by the time we reached the first stoplight that I thought his eyes were looking right through me like a ghost's stare.

"Did you get my dress?" I asked as everyone climbed into the limo, Dimitri sitting next to me.

"Yeah, Sylar has it," Liz muttered, holding onto Liam as her other hand clutched a bag. "Are we changing at the White House?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dimitri answered. "Each couple will be assisted with a hairdresser."

Great. I was the odd one out . . . again. Thanks Dimitri! How many times would I be singled out today?

Sylar handed me my bag as he stepped in with Ashley, sitting across from me as Sarah and Dal sat diagonal from me, sitting with Liam and Liz.

"Who's this, Vasanti?" Sylar questioned, eyebrows rising.

"Did you hook up at the White House?" Sarah giggled.

Dimitri and I stiffened. I bit my lip, gnawing at the flesh softly.

"No," I snapped. "Dimitri's my 'bodyguard' for tonight."

I put quotation marks in the air, rolling my eyes at Dimitri's hard face.

"Ms. Gray, to get there on time, shall we intercept traffic?" Dimitri asked, pressing his finger to his earpiece.

"Yes," I smiled. "We shall."

The limo driver smiled at me and tapped on the keyboard in front of him as all the green lights suddenly turned on, racing away.

"Hold on tight," Dimitri whispered, smiling as we zoomed off, arriving at the White House in a matter of minutes.

By the time we got to the White House, the sun had set; only a faint glow prevailed in the west.

"Vasanti1" Vivi said, smiling as I stepped out of the limo. "I'm your hairdresser! What a coincidence!"

I was escorted away with Vivi and Dimitri as the others were rushed upstairs into their rooms with their couples and hairdressers.

Sighing, I looked at the three doors down from me, their giggling and laughing stabbed me painfully as I tried to swallow it down. I stepped through my door, the small room with a chair in the middle and mirrors surrounding the entire room glowing like an angel's den.

"Now, Mr. Waysworth . . . I'll need you to step out for a moment while we are getting prepared," Vivi commanded.

"No, I cannot leave Ms. Gray's side tonight," he protested.

I gave him a look, clearly surprised.

Pervert.

"Dimitri," I growled. "I know I have a tempting body, but you can leave now and check it out later."

"Ms. Gray—"

"That's an order," I narrowed my eyes to show my warning.

"Yes ma'am," he grumbled. "I'll be waiting outside."

He stepped out, obeying and I sighed.

"The first taste of freedom after decades," I slunk into the chair and smiled.

"Vasanti, we're behind, let's get going," Vivi scolded, spinning me around in the chair to make me sit up. "I've got only two hours to get you to look like a princess."

I looked up at Vivi, her choice of words were . . . awkward, but I smiled, closing my eyes.

"Ready?" Vivi spread out loads of make-up in front of me.

"When you are," I chuckled.

Her hands circled around my face, brushing away the hair from my face and tying it into a ponytail. Vivi's hands brushed against my face, over and over as she applied foundation, the expensive make-up starting to settle in, smoother than my original skin, my eyes feeling stunning.

As she moved onto my hair, the twirling of my hair tightening on the back of my head as she set a pin the middle and a light layer of hairspray for volume.

When she pulled out the dress, it was as if I'd never seen it before; it was foreign to me.

When I finally got to look in the mirror, I shifted my head in confusion, my eyebrows rising as I tried to soak everything in.

Was this really how I looked?

The eyes were the only thing that stood out to me, the dark eyeliner and mascara lining the eyes with more of a golden shine. The dress shimmered, but only so much that you could see it from 10 feet away, my light skin shining.

My lips shone a light pink color with some gloss and my hair was in a side bun, my bangs brushed across my forehead and diamond clips slipped into the bun, a light blue band wrapped around it once.

Maybe Sylar was right; the dress was too exposing, my heels too high.

"Vivi?" I whispered. "Is the dress okay?"

I stared at my bare back, sighing.

"Vasanti, it's perfect," She laughed. "Now, come on and get going."
As she opened the door a peek, the chandelier hanging from the third floor shone through the entire ballroom below, the stairs that we were to step down of were spiraling like a snake around a column.

Everyone was starting to step out of their rooms, their hands looped with each other's arms.

Liz's hair was straightened, falling onto her shoulders as he dress grazed on the red and gold carpet, her ears sparkling every time she took a step. Liam stood beside her, whispering and his suit looked sharp, his hair gelled to the side with his amazing smile. He was a really good actor. Not many people could pass as Villias or Neutrals in front of my brother for this long.

Sarah and Dal silently stood next to each other, Sarah's hands brushed across his neck as she smoothed his tie, her hair down and curled at the ends so they bounced onto her shoulders. Dal had his usual style of hair, brushed to the side; his dark eyes, piercing through the walls.

And lastly, Ashley.

I had to admit; standing by Sylar, Ashley was beautiful. She seemed to glow as the light bounced off of her dress's sparkles,. Shimmering everywhere as her hair was in a bun with a crown set carefully to surround her bun

Around Ashley's neck was a family heirloom, a ruby necklace with a platinum design spinning around the gemstone elegantly, her red pumps reflecting off of the ruby.

Sylar stood beside her, his stiff, position meaning he was on guard, ready for any danger that came his way as he straightened his suit and brushed his hand across his messy hair.

"Vasanti!" Vivi cried, pushing me out of the door. "Out!"

I stepped out of the door and nodded to Dimitri, looking over the edge of the railing as the chatter of people made my stomach flutter.

"An escort, Ms. Gray?" Dimitri asked, standing behind me.

I looked behind me at his hard face, smiling as I could feel the making of a new friendship.

"Please," I said. "I'd topple over if I don't."

I looped my arm around his, ready to be called down. His arm was warm, the heat transferring to my cold body as all the couples smiled, stepping down the stairs, and not noticing my presence.

"Mr. Sylar Gray and Ms. Ashley Berkof," the announcer called as Sylar and Ashley stepped in front of the stairs, disappearing as they spiraled around the ballroom.

Everyone else was gone. I was the only one left on the staircase. I stopped at the top of the stairs, butterflies flying in my stomach, gripping on tighter to Dimitri.

"It's your time to shine," Dimitri smiled, patting me on the arm for good luck as he pulled me down the stairs.

"Ms. Vasanti Gray!" the voice echoed off throughout the entire ballroom and I forced myself—setting aside the fear—to step down the stairs, me feet taking me down involuntarily.

I now found out that they had decorated the staircase with millions of flowers. There were flowers wrapped around the railings of the staircase, sparkling with glitter as I passed by, the spotlight shining on my face.

Under my high heels and exposed leg, there were flower petals spread evenly on the stairs, my dress draping on the ground behind me, the rush of flowers tumbling to my feet.

Beyond that, I couldn't see a thing except the flashes of cameras and red buttons recording this moment, but I could feel everyone's stares on me and I smiled, trying to make a good impression.

Subtracting the fear and anxiety, I felt . . . seductive . . . sexy.

Ashley, Liz, and Sarah told me that feeling sexy was a great feeling, but I didn't think it would be this great. I felt cautious . . . but dangerous in these heels.

With great power comes great responsibility.

Of course, that didn't apply to now . . . or me in anyway. But I still felt like I was a danger to the public at this moment; like I could rip out someone's throat.

Before I knew it, it was over, the spotlight disappearing and the ballroom's torches lighting up the entire room as I stepped onto the flat ground.

The room was colossal, and nothing could compare to it. Nothing at all. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting up the middle of the ballroom, the torch-like lights hung around the room, a few doors open—leading outside—to get air flowing. The room was nearly gold as all the decorations made it look ancient with the swirling designs, but beautiful.

I looked up to see a million stares looking my way, as if they were hypnotized. I sighed and unhooked my hand from Dimitri's, looking for someone to go to—certainly, I was not going to have an interview.

My eyes caught the President's, nodding for me to come over and speak to some people.

"Ah, Mr. President," I smiled at all the people around him.

The uneasiness settled in as Dimitri followed behind me and all the people Arigha was talking to, looked over to me as I introduced myself.

"Miss Gray," Reivaja Marahid smiled, nodding to me.

"Mrs. Marahid," I beamed back. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Likewise."

Reivaja had long brown, silky hair that she had tied into a braid along her hips. Her yellow flared dress hugged her hips and beautiful figure as her dark skin made a good contrast with it. Her eyes were drawn with a kohl eyeliner, light and beautiful. I felt so plain as I posed for a picture with her.

My hand was kissed many times by the people we—if you count Dimitri—were introduced to, my face turning red every time they did so; but luckily, most of them were neutrals. My face went hard when I met a neutral, whom I immediately knew, was a Solitude supporter.

His stare scared me half to death, probably because of his wild, jungle-man type look, following my eyes as Mr. President had me step up to the platform with him, the members of the White House lined behind us as Dimitri stood behind me.

"I recently sent out a letter to invite the person to come to the White House for a tour, as you all know," Arigha started, his voice booming throughout the filled ballroom. "But what you don't know, is that I consciously chose this person. I believe that this person will change the world, starting with our nation. But not alone. Certainly not. Senator Nathan Petrelli will now work with . . . Miss Vasanti Gray!"

The crowd broke into applaud, the clapping echoing off the walls and jumping back to hit me. I nervously stepped up to the microphone, Dimitri still standing behind me.

I rambled through my head, trying to find something that would work. I wasn't prepared to have a speech; I needed at least a day's notice. I decided that I'd just wing it from now on.

"Thank you, Mr. President," I nodded to the crowd and smiled as the cameras flashed in my face. "I would just like for everyone to know, that I would have never thought of this idea if my brother—" I gestured to Sylar in the crowd "—never pushed me so far. With everything that I've accomplished, I can't say I can refuse to have a future involved with politics. I'd like to thank you all and hope you have a wonderful night."

The clapping broke out again, and Nathan stood next to me with the president on my other side as they smiled at the cameras dazzlingly. They'd had so much practice and I was the one who looked like I was bored to death.

A soft melody played, and I noticed it immediately. It was a tune from a while ago, and was really quite old.

Flightless Bird, American Mouth—by Iron and Wine.

I smiled at the president for a last time before walking off the platform as Dimitri trailed behind me, his eyes fixed—finally, not on me—but his . . . girlfriend? She was on the outer circle of the crowd, her black, layered hair fell onto her shoulders and her dark brown eyes seemed to match his eyes. She was in a black v-neck dress that flared, her silver heels visible in the light as she smiled at him.

"You can leave if you'd like," I said, smiling at him. "I'll be fine."

"Miss Gray, I cannot. My duty is to—"

"Dimitri, if you lose your job, I'll probably just hire you again," I muttered. "You've had too little nights where you just hang out. Just this one night."

"Duty comes before—"

"Dimitri, get the hell away from me," I growled under my breath. "I'm not that reckless, I'll be fine."

He nodded to me, despite my foul language, patting my arm in thanks and turning around.

"You have a safe and wonderful night," he whispered, then disappearing as a circle of dance started, pushing me to the side.

"Oh, Senator Petrelli," I said, backing away as his hand pressed against my back. "Nathan."

"Vasanti," he whispered. "Did Dimitri ditch you? It's not like him."

"I ordered him to leave his duty home tonight," I whispered.

The song ended, the speakers still shaking from around the entire ballroom as a new song started; one I knew too well that I couldn't just stand here while it played.

Broken—by Seether.

My hands flew up involuntarily and I internally kicked myself as I took Nathan to the dance floor, my hand draping around his neck as we swayed side to side to the heartbreaking song, his hands around my waist a spark transmitting through our bodies.

I could see what he was wearing clearly, his pale-ivory skin blending well. His silver suit draped to the middle of his thigh with pockets, the ends of his sleeves with a few buttons. The suit had two buttons to clasp the suit together, the collar of his jacket was smooth, and his black, buttoned undershirt's collar was pulled up amazingly.

What I noticed was different about him was that he didn't have a tie on, his hair was spiked up in a messy way that exposed a part of his forehead, his hairs flying away, but he still looked . . . startling. He was like a god. A Greek god to be exact.

OhMyGod. I did not just think that about him.

But he was so . . . elegant . . . handsome . . . dangerous . . .

Get a grip Vasanti! A voice rung out in my head. He's older than you . . . nine years older to be exact . . . he was doing math equations when you were born!

He was so . . . tempting . . . so . . . mysterious . . . my thought repeated over and over in my head, making me smile.

Vasanti . . . the voice groaned.

Okay! Okay! I cried from inside, making the voice shut up.

I smirked at him as he twirled me, the song starting to end as I mouthed the words slowly. Closing my eyes, the song ended, the melodies flew by for probably 30 minutes as cameras flashed all over the place as Nathan and I danced in silence.

"You . . . look nice," Nathan finally muttered. "Stunning to be exact. Your eyes are the most noticeable though; the blue is really starting to show."

I looked into his hazel-gold eyes, blushing as he looked down on me, spinning me around the room with the greatest of ease.

"Thank you," I whispered, looking away from him. "You don't look so bad tonight either."

He looked behind me, then whisked me off my feet, sliding around the entire room like an angel as he dragged me to an unknown figure.

I did feel like a princess . . . kind of . . . not really . . . maybe the dragon didn't have powers . . .

As we got closer, I smiled as Peter and Rachel nodded to me. Peter was in a tuxedo matching Nathan's, but a darker, black color with a tie tucked in his vest. Rachel was in a low cut silver dress that was slim at the stomach that flared out to the floor, the silver straps of her heels criss-crossing and hovering off of the ground. Her hair was in a bun, some hairs loose and falling to the back of her neck, the diamonds gleaming from her ears.

"Peter, Rachel," I said, nodding.

"Vasanti," Peter said, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

My heart leapt at his touch, his spark more powerful than all the others since he had control over his powers. Every power. Nathan nodded to Rachel, pressing his lips to her hand as he whispered to her.

"So, Nate," Peter smirked, his head turning to Rachel, then back and forth between Nathan and I. "Do you two have a . . . thing now . . .?"

I rolled my eyes. Too many hunches today about boys.

"No," I snapped, a little too sharp. "We're political partners."

"We'll see about the 'political' part," Rachel nodded at Peter and they smiled at each other, seeming to be laughing from inside.

"We'll be off then," Peter said, finally laughing as he punched Nathan's shoulder.

"Ah, Ms. Gray," a man whispered, cutting through my grip on Nathan's arm. "Care for a dance?"

"Of course," I said quickly, nodding to Nathan as the man dragged me off into the circle.

The man was in a usual tuxedo, his blonde hair brushed back and dark-blue eyes twinkling as his hand set on my waist, twirling me around, my dress spinning. He was clearly, very, undeniably handsome and a neutral.

My prince.

I smiled to myself as he looked admiringly at my face, seeming to glow.

"You're an amazing dancer, Ms. Gray," he said, his face inches from mine as he drew in a breath.

"Likewise . . ." I started.

"Sheplin," he corrected. "Captain David Sheplin."

"Ah, a captain?" My eyebrows rose in amusement, his eyes dancing playfully. "A man in uniform is my type of man."

"You are simply—"

"Vasanti," Peter called, swinging me into his arms, breaking me away from David. "A dance?"

I suddenly felt as if I couldn't refuse him, smiling shyly as I nodded, grazing into his arms. Everything about him suddenly drew me to him, although I didn't show it, lost in his features. He was sincerely attracting and his eyes were no different than Nathan's, only a darker color of a caramel brown. I could see now why Rachel was crazy-head-over-heels for Peter.

"So, what position will you be taking in the White House?" Peter whispered, smiling.

I groaned. This day was filled with too much talk of politics and everything else associated with the White House.

"No political talk, please," I begged, sounding too desperate.

Peter chuckled, switching partners as he caught Rachel's body, perfectly in sync as I stumbled into Nathan. Again. But luckily this time, he saw it coming, and caught me by the arm before I could trip on my heels.

The sudden feeling for Peter was suddenly gone as I stood up, straightening my dress.

Great.

I was just owned by Rachel's mind control powers . . . or Peter's mind control powers.

Holy mother of god.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm really out of it today."

I stepped towards a large table with plates of food and trays of sandwiches; aiming for a glass of water. Nathan followed, eyeing me carefully as if I was drunk.

I might as well be drunk.

He grabbed a cookie and handed it to me; I took a look at it admiringly. It was perfectly circular and had a star shape in the middle and almonds were surrounding the edges. I winced and backed away from it, my nose taking a powerful whiff.

"No thank you," I whispered, trying to be calm. "I'm allergic to almonds."

And if a person with abilities was allergic to something and was exposed to it, the allergic reaction was worse than a 'normal' human reaction; sometimes fatal.

Nathan nodded, taking a bite out of the cookie as I sipped the sparkling water miserably; only taking a single sip. I couldn't have champagne here; it'd make a bad impression.

I set the unfinished cup down in a corner, my head snapping up as a touching song (all of them were touching for some reason) played, one of Ashley's favorites.

To Be With You-by David Archuleta

My eyes followed Sylar and Ashley's dancing positions, nearly flying around the room. Their bodies were in sync, their laughter piercing through my heart like an unseen sword as if I was the victim of their unintentional homicide.

Sylar's face was streaked with happiness, something I never saw. Ever. It was as if I didn't exist. At all. His own little world cam together piece by piece, never ever including me. My own brother who raised me, was now going to block me away until I disappeared. Or died. The stinging pain of that made me shiver with anger if he'd ever do anything like that; but with Sylar, it was possible—maybe even 'for sure.'

My father's images and memories slammed through my mind, nearly knocking me over as I was about to burst into tears.

Jason had Lily's waist in his arms, and as they glided through the ballroom, it was like time was frozen for them. They gazed into each others' eyes as their lips met, eyes closing.

"You look . . . like a princess," Jason muttered in a low tone.

I snapped back into reality, immediately looking away from Sylar and Ashley, my father's images making me want to cry even more now as jealousy tugged at me, the thought of their perfect life without me.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, wind from the balcony brushing against my dress, making it ruffle.

Fresh air.

That's what I needed.

My eyes flew open and I swiftly stepped into the moonlight, the wind chilling my skin and brushing my bangs back. I inhaled the air that was unpolluted with perfumes, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to warm myself from the cold feeling. It was as if the moon shining on my face was a comforter, my hands falling to the railing, tracing the smooth, but freezing cold marble.

"Weird," I whispered.

Why was the railing cold? Nothing was ever cold for me. I was losing my mind. The wind made the few trees in front of the garden sway in the wind eerily, my bangs and dress flying with the breeze. The sound of the night creatures chirped in my ears and the wings flapped, the birds flying across the moon, casting a shadow.

Everything outside seemed to calm me, but had a sad edge to it. It was a princess's balcony, but something was missing.

A prince.

I tilted my head up towards the moon, my eyes closed as I absorbed the energy from it to me, sighing. The heavy feeling in my chest ached, weighing me down to the bottom of my heels. Tears welled up on the corners of my eyes, ready to fall as I choked back a sob as a soft tear trickled down my cheek, carrying no black residue of my mascara. Waterproof.

I clutched onto the railing even harder in pain, trying not to murder my perfectly new polished nails.

"Too much to handle?" Nathan called from behind me, making me flinch.

I forgot he was watching me. I quickly wiped away my tear, turning around to see him crossing his arms, watching me with softness in his eyes as he saw my bewildered expression. A stray tear clinked onto the floor with a clink, breaking. I sighed, wiping both of my eyes, making sure there were no more tears for anyone to see.

"I'm sorry if you have to see me like this," I whispered, trying to smile.

"My apologies for startling you," Nathan nodded.

"It's fine; I didn't expect anyone to come after me."

The wind picked up and I rubbed my arms, crossing them over my chest as goose-bumps rose on my skin, making me feel even more loved by Mother Nature . . . or Liz. I turned around to focus on the moon again, sighing.

I was losing it.

Seriously losing it.

Was I being drained of my power? Right. I hadn't drank any water for a while, only a single sip today, which wouldn't help at all. Dehydration was bad for my body, especially for my ability. I'd only had a little bit of water over a period of two days.

Something warm braced against my shoulder and wrapped around my freezing arms and to my chest.

It was Nathan's jacket.

I turned around to face him, his hand leaning on the railing next to me. He was wearing a silver vest on top of his black undershirt and his suit and my dress seemed to gleam. As much as I wanted to keep his jacket, I couldn't accept it.

"Nathan, I don't need—"

I started to take off the jacket, but stopped as I took a single small breath and closed my eyes to take in the pleasing smell

It was unimaginable beyond anything in the world.

"Never mind," I whispered. "Thank you . . . very much."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Gray," Nathan had a hard face on—debating?

I pulled the silver jacket closer to me, taking deep breaths of the rich fabric from . . . Greece? Imported fabric . . . of course he would.

"What's got you so down?" Nathan asked, turning to face me, his back now leaning on the railing.

I looked up and behind me, wincing.

"It's hard to see Sylar . . . so . . . happy with her," I sighed. "It's like I don't even exist until we have a fight. I don't want to lose my only family left; if he gets too attached, he'll ditch me and I'll be alone. All alone."

"Are you sure about that?" Nathan's eyes rose.

"Yes," I grumbled. "He's just that mean of a brother."

My ears rang as my favorite, old-time song played, nearly making me drop the jacket. I clutched it closer to me, my head held high as I started to step into the White House again, under a spell. The melody was so close to me, making a stirring feeling inside of me explode.

I handed Nathan his jacket and he threw it on as I finally stepped into the warm room again, ditching the cold air, the smell of lilacs and sweet pea filling up my nose.

"Vasanti?" Nathan asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"Nathan," I whispered, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the circle. "C'mon."

A spark crackled through me as I smiled at him, but he didn't seem to return it. I felt happy that the reporters had all gone, so they wouldn't have to keep taking pictures. The stirring feeling still seemed to spark nerves in my body, making me jump with joy as the song exploded into music.

My hands wrapped around his neck and his hand lightly sat on my waist, swinging back and forth to the song.

You Found Me-by The Fray

I sighed as I lay on Nathan's shoulder, breathing on his neck quietly, his scar visible.

"May I ask you a question?" I looked up at him.

"Yes, you may," he said, nodding to me.

"Where'd you get your scar?"

He stiffened, but kept swaying, looking down at me as if he didn't want to tell me.

"Near the end of the Iraq War, I was still serving on the American Side," he explained. "My pal Aleo and I were to stay at headquarters while the others tried to find some way to bring back our comrades that were being imprisoned. Aleo and I were young, foolish; we thought we could save them."

Nathan was still moving, but he stared into the distance, lost in his own train of thoughts, hurt crossing his face.

"We succeded, but getting back was the hard part. While coming back, they managed to attack us, but Aleo was the faster man, running off with all our comrades. He was stupid to come back for me, for I had been shot, my leg bleeding heavily and slowing all of us down," he closed his eyes, wincing as if the pain were still there. "I was the coward. I surrendered myself, that was why they didn't shoot me, but Aleo ordered me to go, pulling on me as the shots pierced through the air and into his body. Before he fell to the ground, he scratched at me, ordering me to go, before it was too late.

He got me right under the jaw, an arrow, a sign of loyalty and bravery these days. For me, it's a sign of shame. My fear killed my friend and had us exposed to these . . . diseases."

"But . . . it's not your fault," I protested, "The entire world was in panic. It would have spread anyways. Some people were changing into . . . different species. Only certain people got this . . . virus, but scientists didn't know what the relation of these people had to each other. But it's an honor to have these powers, and some take it for granted."

"I never asked for this," Nathan muttered. "I just wanted to be normal! Why do I have these powers?"

"The Neutrals take being normal for granted," I answered. "But it's our destiny to have these powers."

But in the end, everyone ends up alone.

As the entire song's lyrics pounded and echoed through my head, tears started to form again near my eyes.

It was a perfect night, yet so sad.

Somehow, it was familiar, yet faint.

I was a princess. My mother was a princess.

That meant that one of the people here was my prince.

David? Peter? Nathan?

Or maybe the answer was right under my nose. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be in love because I was a Villia, bred for destruction and evil. I wished my mother were here to talk me into doing something useful, because I felt like I wasn't anything much to the Northern Colonies.

I whipped away the tears and held my head up high. I was not going to let my feelings get in the way of my duty. That's what it was . . . duty. Something that people died over, lived through, and had nightmares about.

"My country is all that I have left," Nathan whispered. "It's my duty to protect it."

There it was again. Some people think they owe the country, so their duty is to protect it . . . but from what?

***

"Miss Gray, you have a good night," Nathan whispered as he opened a door for me, my friends following behind us.

"Likewise, Senator," we all said, turning around and stepping into the limo.

The door for the entrance to the White House was decorated with red velvet, a carpet rolled out to show the invitees to the ballroom. There were flower garlands hanging from a plate, hanging off the ground and beautifully leveled, as if the king were visiting. But of course this was a president's ball, so everything has to be tip top shape.

Sylar and Ashley were already in the limo, passed out as Ashley's head lay on Sylar's shoulder, their hands threaded together, gripping on tight. I waved to Nathan before I slipped into the limo, his figure already walking down the hall to his office, his hands in his pockets.

He looked so amazing when he walked like that, especially because the lights seemed to form a spotlight on him as he turned a corner and disappeared. This night was in the middle of perfect and falling-in-love. I hadn't found my prince but I didn't think I needed to . . . yet.

When I slipped into a corner in the limo, I closed my eyes as I tried to remember the smell of his jacket on my skin, but no longer could commit to memory the smell because of its purity—or rarity. The smell, I wanted so badly almost more than anything in the world.

So . . . unimaginably . . . I wanted . . . him?

~End of Chapter Four~

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