Two review in one day? Don't expect this often, but you deserve this treat. I don't own, and please review!

"So what exactly did you see?" Emmett asked quietly.

I sighed into the mouthpiece of my cell phone. "If I tell you it'll tell you who."

He made a weird noise, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. "I don't want to admit who I suspect."

"I don't even want to think about it. I never thought we'd be the problem free couple. Actually, I never thought we'd actually be a couple."

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "I'm sure one of us would have plucked up the nerve to tell the other. Bella was threatening to tell you anyway."

I chuckled softly. "I wouldn't believe her. She knew I had a crush on you without me even saying a word."

"Come to think of it, you did have this way of staring at me that made me wonder. And the way you dressed some days. And that time you wrote on a note that you wouldn't care if I kissed you."

I had to refrain from laughing out loud. "I knew you'd understand that."

"I was hoping you meant what I thought you meant."

I smiled softly to myself. "Em, do you ever wonder if maybe we're weird?"

He laughed softly. "Al, we're the living embodiment of institutional. Hate to break I to you, babe."

"No," I whined softly. "I mean, we're best friends. Does it strike you as odd that we're the only best friend couple?"

"Because, dear, Edward and Jasper don't go that way, and neither to Bella and Rosalie."

"You're missing my point!" I huffed, irritated. "I mean, what if we're weird and they have it right? Maybe men and women can't be best friends with no romantic involvement. Maybe Harry was right and Sally was the idiot!" I grew hysterical at the end of my little speech.

"Honey," Emmett said softly. "Harry and Sally aren't real."

My exhausted mind made that more dramatic than it should have. "Now you're telling me the couple I look up to the most is fake?"

"Honey, honey, honey," Emmett soothed. "Inside voices. Don't freak out. Maybe you need some sleep."

"Maybe," I said, sniffling dramatically, kind of for show. "Night, Teddy Bear."

"Night, Pixie Princess."

The week passed slowly, torturing me. After an off-handed comment from my mother, I decided my parents knew I was up at all hours on the phone, so Emmett and I kept it cool, not talking later than ten. It was hard, and I got very little sleep over the week, so when Friday night came, I forewent going to La Push and chose to stay home. I felt awful, and I was pretty sure I'd picked up some kind of bug, since this exhaustion was very different than others I'd had before.

I'd bundled up on the couch in my favorite sweats and a heavy blanket to keep warm, expecting a lonely evening (or at least without friends) when Daddy rounded up the others to leave. Emmett, though, decided to stay with me and keep me company. As the others left, he sat in the floor next to my makeshift bed, flipping through channels for something good to watch. We settled on a movie channel, not that I could really pay attention. I was slowly feeling worse and worse, to the point that out of no where, tears were slowly rolling down my cheeks and into the pillow I was falling asleep on.

"Pixie Princess?" Emmett asked, glancing back at me and then turning all the way at the sight of my tears. "Are you okay?"

I tried to even out my breaths. "I just feel really bad."

He cupped my cheeks and wiped my tears away with his thumbs. "God, Al, you're burning up!"

"Sorry?" I wasn't quite all there, and my proper response mechanism was off. A violent shiver racked through my body suddenly, making chill-bumps raise on every inch of my skin.

"Esme!" Emmett called urgently.

Mother rushed into the room and knelt at my side, taking Emmett's place of holding my cheeks. "Alice, are you okay?"

"I just feel bad, Mom; I'm fine," I said, not feeling fine at all. In fact, I felt like I'd been run over by a Mac truck.

"Don't lie," she said, pushing my hair from my face. "You're sick."

Oh really, Sherlock? I wanted to say, but I knew sarcasm aimed at my mother was a bad idea. "I can sleep it off."

"Come on, sweetheart," she said, standing and gently tugging me up. "Let's get you into a hot bath."

Emmett (obviously) stayed downstairs when Mother and I went upstairs. I stayed wrapped in my blanket while she ran a scalding bath in the master bathroom's Jacuzzi sized tub. When she opened a bath oil bottle and poured a generous amount into the water, I found myself unable to breathe. I kept it to myself until she left me alone to soak in the water. After about five minutes submerged in the hot water, I couldn't handle the normally relaxing scent. It permeated my lungs and left me short of breath. I jumped out and pulled the plug on the drain, then dressed quickly in order to escape the suffocation. I made my escape, but as soon as I was out and into my parents' bedroom, I crashed headfirst into my father, who was kicking off his shoes, apparently having just gotten home.

"You're supposed to be in the bath," he said, looking confused.

I gasped for breath, trying to take in uncontaminated oxygen. "Couldn't breathe…bath oil smell…"

He looked alarmed, and I could see the cogs turning in his head. He picked me up like a little kid and carried me to the dresser. He got his medical bag and got out his stethoscope and proceeded to listen to my lungs. "Breathe, sweetheart."

I tried to take even breaths, waiting for him to say something.

"You're coming with me to work tomorrow," he said, putting the stethoscope away.

"Why?"

"I'm going to give you an X-ray. I think you have pneumonia."

I was pretty pissed at that. Edward had had pneumonia when we were eleven, and it was awful for him. We'd had to be kept apart for a week, because when one of us picked up a bug when we were kids, the other one would get it as soon as the other was better. Mom and Daddy had us talk on the phone when we were bored, but other than that, we were apart for the longest time since he was in one incubator and I another, and even then they placed us right next together in the hospital nursery. I thought I was immune to it if I didn't get it from Edward then, but now it was my turn, and it was not a fun illness to have, if memory of Edward's explanation served correctly.

"Can I go back downstairs?"

Daddy deliberated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Just be careful around your brother, and you have to sleep in your own bed tonight with the electric blanket."

"But Daddy, Emmett's always been there for me when I'm sick. He's always really warm, so I stay warmer without having to drown in the blankets." I pouted and made my famous puppy eyes, knowing he couldn't resist the clover green irises.

He relented, knowing I wasn't going to get into any trouble. While some dads would find a boy that had the same intimidating stature and strength of my Teddy Bear bad news, Daddy had known him since he was born and trusted him more than he trusted me, most likely because he knew my persuasive ability. "Okay, I don't think you'd be very contagious if Emmett isn't sick by now." I really didn't want to think about the fact that my dad knew I regularly made out with my boyfriend, but he was probably right and Emmett wasn't sick.

I hugged him and then went back downstairs to Emmett. He pulled me into his arms, kissing my head.

"You okay, Pixie Princess?" he asked, rubbing my arms to warm me up.

I rested my head on his shoulder. "Daddy thinks I have pneumonia. He's giving me an X-ray tomorrow." A little shiver overtook my body.

"Let's get you tucked back in," he said, standing up and pushing me to lay down on the soft loveseat. He took my blanket and draped it over me, then found another nearby blanket to cover me more. He adjusted the pillow under my head and finally kissed my lips gently, then sat on the floor next to my head. "Feeling any better?"

"I wish you'd lay with me," I hinted, leaning forward and trying to steal another kiss.

He smirked at me. "You need to sleep."

I pouted. "I'll feel better if you lay with me."

He rolled his eyes, then leaned forward for another kiss. "Fine." He hauled himself up, then laid behind me, on top of the covers, his too tall body not fitting too well, so his head was on the armrest.

"Night, Teddy Bear," I mumbled, feeling myself doze off.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he breathed in my hair, kissing my head.

He held me close and I fell asleep in his arms, getting better sleep than I had in a long time. Emmett was a nice cuddle buddy, as usual, and he warmed me even more, so I wasn't cold at all.

"Wake up, Alice," he said softly, waking me up.

"Emmett, let me sleep…" I mumbled, nuzzling my face into the pillow.

He chuckled lowly. "Alice, you need to eat something. The others are eating supper, and your mom said it would be a good idea to get something in you before you fell too deep asleep."

"Too late," I groaned, hauling myself up. "I'm not hungry."

Emmett sat up as well, then stood and pulled me to my feet. "You need to try something."

I let everyone poke and prod at me, suggesting food to eat and things to do to feel better. I was too exhausted to care, though. After a few saltines and a glass of milk, I was tucked back into the couch, more exhausted than ever.

Edward, who was walking on eggshells around me, hugged and kissed me on the cheek before I fell asleep. "I'm sorry you feel bad, sister," he said, then leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I'm sorry about everything lately."

"It's okay, brother," I said softly, snuggling down into the blankets. "I'm sleepy. Emmett's gonna be back in a minute, so move over, please."

He obliged, and I was soon in Emmett's arms once again. I slept soundly that night, partly from exhaustion, partly from feeling awful, but mostly from being in the arms of the most amazing guy I'd ever known.

The next day, I was swabbed, X-rayed, and fussed over by several nurses, and - as Daddy suspected - I ended up having pneumonia. A variety of medications were prescribed to me, and everyone loved me on the medicines with bizarre side affects, usually. Too bad something happened while I was in my medicated state that would kill the humor in everything.

A/N: Alice's experience with pneumonia is based on my personal experience when I was fourteen. The main difference is that the discovery of mine started with a stinking baritone saxaphone, and ended with a collision with the door frame. Make of that what you will. *smiles* Review?

~Sidney