A/N: I've uploaded the song for Alice's ringtone. Totally forgot when I posted this part. :P

Swinging her feet back and forth, while sitting on her small bed, Alice sipped at her first morning tea. 

Black, a dash of milk and lots and lots of sugar.

She loved her tea sweet!

It tasted a bit rusty even so. She and her flatmates shared an old electric kettle which proved to be better than nothing, if you rented a triple room at Cornish Commons.

In her other hand she juggled her mobile as she tried not to break eye contact with her papa who smiled back at her on the screen.

Having the day off and the room all to herself, thanks to her flatmates both visiting their families, Alice had called her papa first thing this Saturday morning.

She had finished telling him all about her week, although she'd been half-awake and a bit bleary eyed. 

However, she was startled awake as soon as memories of olive eyes and a mirthful smirk flashed through her mind. In her story she had not been able to keep herself from mentioning the beautiful brunette she had met last Sunday. Automatically, her face had split into a grin and she had felt fully awake in a second, when she thought of Robin Mills.

"So I take it, this woman is somebody special?" Her papa asked with his happy smile which always shoved his eyebrows in opposing directions.

They had turned significantly grey since the last time Alice had spoken to him via Skype a few weeks ago. His beard, distinctive lines, surrounded by stubble had lost its sharp contrast of black against a light skin. 

Colours of coal had turned to ash. 

Killian Jones was said to be the most dashing man who ever came to Nuneham Courtenay. The people in her home town also said, before Alice's birth, he had been a womaniser. 

Alice thought with some pride, that even if he'd lost the contrast of colours he was still a handsome man and she did not care about what he did in his past for he was the best father a girl could ask for.

"Yes, she is. I wrote you all about her in the letter which should arrive soon," Alice said with unconcealed enthusiasm. With her papa she had never have to be afraid of being herself.

He chuckled and looked at her with a lopsided grin. "That's alright, Starfish. I am just glad you've met someone nice."

"She is. Also she is very smart and funny – and beautiful! Stunningly so," Alice chirped and quickly added, "I wanted to send you a picture of her together with the letter but it turned out I couldn't catch all her colours."

It had been a shame but Alice had not been able to draw anything that did Robin's beauty justice. She had tried and failed. Everything had seemed like a childish scrawl compared to the real Robin. Now her dustbin, which she'd promised her flatmates to empty this weekend, was overflown with screwed up sheets of paper.

"How was the exhibition?" Her papa asked.

Immediately the question jolted her out of her musings and made the corners of her mouth quirk into a grin.

"Oh, papa, you should have been there. There were so many people viewing the art. It was amazing," she enthused.

"And your painting was well received?" He enquired, raising his eyebrows in a hopeful manner. He'd always been her biggest supporter, truly believing in her skills.

Alice bit into her lower lip. She hated to disappoint her papa and felt guilty that she could not answer the question which had seemed the most important thing to her about a week ago. Of course he had not known how things had changed since then.

"Frankly, I don't know," she confessed. "I ran into Robin before I got there. However, she said she liked it. She even memorised the title! Can you believe it?"

Her papa gave a snigger and the image of him swayed slightly to the side. 

After straightening the mobile on his end again, Alice noticed him wearing the crooked smile of his. The knowing one. 

Wryly he asked, "Shall I expect a lot of swooning over this woman rather than anything about the exhibition in your letter?"

"Papa!" Alice yelped. Her cheeks grew uncontrollably warm.

"Sorry, luv. I am just teasing you." His crooked smirk softened. Hard curves of mirth changed into smooth lines of endearment. His blue eyes – as blue as hers she was told – glinted like sapphires. "I have never seen you as cheerful as this about anyone before."

"That's because I had not met Robin until last Sunday," Alice argued.

He smirked wholeheartedly. "Are you seeing each other then?"

Immediately her heart bounced.

 Once. 

Twice. 

Blood pumped through her veins. A motor race inside her body. She could hear the rush roaring inside her ears.

"I –," Alice licked her lips nervously. "I haven't rang her up yet."

A deep frown forced his eyebrows down. "Why didn't you?"

Alice knew that if there was one person on this planet that she could be completely honest with, it was her papa, the man who had buried his dreams and his future for her. Solely for her. Her chest heaved with a sigh. "I am scared she might find me weird. Like anyone before did."

His face grew larger on the screen as he leaned forward. With a rigorous voice forged by determination he told her, "My luv, you are the most astonishing and beautiful person who'd ever walked on earth. How could a smart woman like the person you've described, like this Robin Mills, how could someone like this not see that?" He shook his head. "Don't," he uttered with emphasis, "give up before trying."

Tears flooded her eyes. A broken smile was all she could do as her love and gratefulness to this man, who had never given up on her, flooded into her. "Thank you, papa," she croaked.

He smiled in kind but looked very tired. The ceases in his face seemed to have deepened during the short time they talked. Alice knew, while she had started her day, he was almost through with his.

"I'll better let you rest now," Alice muttered.

"I'm fine. It's barely evening," her father objected.

"I insist," Alice responded. "Don't worry, I'll keep you updated even if I have to use that bloodily bothersome mobile app."

"That's fair enough," he released a little puff through his nose and smiled brilliantly at her. "Have a great day, Starfish."

The corners of her mouth lifted on their own at the term of endearment. "And you a great evening, papa."

Like always when they rang off, Alice felt a little bit empty afterwards. She stared at the screen of her mobile until it turned black. Her reflection, looked back at her with a scowl.

Wagging her head, Alice shook off the shadows crouching inside her mind. 

Her papa was right. She should call Robin. 

Robin was not shallow. She would not find Alice weird.

Taking a deep breath she unlocked her mobile and scrolled through the contacts. All the way down to the letter "R".

Her jaw dropped open as her gaze rushed over the register. 

No contact named Robin was there.

There were just a few contacts starting with "R" like the Rollin' Bayou, another yellow food truck which had grown important to Alice. Not only because of its kind owner but also the delicious titbits. 

Also there was her supervisor for foreign students, R. Weaver. But no Robin or Robin Mills or Robin M. or R. Mills was to be found.

Irritated Alice scrolled upwards again. Perhaps Robin had saved her contact with her surname first. It would be strange. But Alice always expected the strange.

But except for the phone numbers for "My college", "My home", "My number" and one of her flatmates whose name was Mary, there was nothing there.

She was sure she had seen Robin press "save" before returning the phone to her. So why was it that the number had gone missing? 

Did mobiles swallow phone numbers like washing machines swallowed socks?

Or was it that Robin had saved a fake contact or simply saved an already existing one?

No.

No, Robin was honest.

Or had seemed so.

But how could anyone think up stories like the ones Robin had told her?

No, Robin was honest. Alice simply knew she was. 

There had to be a problem with her phone or something. Perhaps there was an alternate universe and all the socks, dotted and striped, formed a huge pile and above them lost numbers swirled in the air.

Anyhow, Alice needed to find another way to contact Robin Mills. The question was how.

An idea flared up in her like a bonfire.

Bouncing back from her worn-out mattress and onto her feet, Alice pounced towards her cupboard and pulled out a sheet of paper from a stash.

Since she was a small girl she'd learned to sort her thoughts and ideas with the aid of lists. It was due to one of her teachers at primary school who had been adamant about her having to be tested, that she had been sent to psychotherapy and learned this helpful strategy.

Pressing her lips tightly together, she started to make a list of things she knew about Robin, scribbling words with vigour.

It took her, in the end, five sheets of paper – four after having crossed out every point starting with adjectives like beautiful, gorgeous and lovely too many times to the point of illegibility and one because of a marmalade accident whilst a break – and a tour to empty the dustbin to finish the list.

Grinning at the result she started her research on the points.

A large portion of the rest of the day and the next she invested in narrowing down possible leads to find Robin.

It was on Monday that Alice finally admitted to herself that she might would never see Robin again.

In the phone directory of Seattle had been thousands of people called Mills but no Robin Mills and without knowing her mother's or cousin's first names it was to no avail.

There weren't many other points giving any clue on how to find Robin. Knowing that Robin seemed to like the colour green, wasn't allergic to anything contained in hot dogs or toffee, had a college degree and was fan of the local American football team did not help. The only hints that had been able to provide some valuable information had been her aunt's restaurant and that Robin was a hobby archer. But still the list of places was too long to follow.

It was hopeless.

Robin Mills was lost to Alice.

Perhaps that was how it was meant to be...

With the realisation came the exhaustion. 

On Monday she dragged herself around; to the seminars and to work afterwards. Feeling disappointed and tired her spirit was tarnished.

When Alice finally closed up Hatterdashery in the afternoon – Jefferson, her boss Jefferson Chapelier, had left earlier because of an appointment – she planned for a calm evening, hopefully not having to see one of her flatmates or anyone else.

Without her papa Alice was alone. And right now, that's what she wanted to be.

She jumped when a fast melody rang out of nowhere and a woman started singing about a looking glass and taking the wrong pills. It took two seconds for Alice to recognise it was her own bloody ringtone, an old Florence + The Machine song. 

She blinked at the screen. Almost nobody ever, except her papa, called her.

It said, Nobin was calling.

Nobin?

Who was Nobin?

Alice did not know anyone named Nobin. Was it even a name? How did it even get inside her contact list?

She frowned at the screen and wanted to dismiss the call, when she suddenly realised who it could be – 

N - obin... R - obin... 

It could be Robin!

Her hands started shaking thanks to the rush of excitement fuming inside her head and steaming downwards through her heart to her arms and legs.

It could be Robin.

Hope, warm and soothing, followed after the sudden storm of exuberance and Alice remembered that her vibrating and roaring mobile rested in her hand awaiting her response.

With a swipe of her index finger she picked up and raised the phone to her ear. 

"Robin?" She asked unable to simmer down the hope in her voice. "Is that you?"

A/N: The answer as to what Alice was doing and why she has not called Robin. How did you like it?^^

In case you liked it (':D) don't forget to vote and/or leave a comment behind. It means a lot to me! :)

Also a little advertisment for my other stuff: Newest books are a Mad Archer Oneshot collection and a crossover between OUAT and Wuthering Heights.

Next week we'll have some more pictures of Seattle. ;)