By Isis Osiris

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please? I promise I'll be good. And I can take care of myself, you know."

"I know, but the answer is still no."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you out by yourself. The Slayer and her friends know about you and they're still out there. You couldn't even feed without running in to one of them last night." But I *want* to run into them. I have to talk to Giles and tell him what's going on.

"But I took care of him, didn't I?" Well, if you count talking to him and pretending to kill him without really doing anything to him…

"Yes, you did, pet, but I still - "

"So why won't you let me go out? If I can handle Xander, I can handle any of them. I'll be fine, honest. I… I just need some time out by myself. I swear, if I don't spend some time alone, I'll go insane." Spike flinches at that. Not a good sign.

"It takes a lot more than being with me to drive someone insane. Believe me, I know. I'm not the one who made Dru the way she is. That was your friend Angel. It was the solitude that did it for her. Not knowing when the next attack would come. The wondering and waiting." Very not good sign. Angry Spike bad. Very bad.

"I… I didn't mean it that way, Spike, honest. I just meant that - "

"That you want to get away from me. That you can't stand my presence."

"No! That's not what I meant at all. I - "

"Well, if you want to be alone, then have at it. Although I seem to recall that you didn't bloody well like it the last time I left you, did you? Well, pet," the venom in his voice covers any affection usually associated with that term, "we'll see if you're any more accustomed to it this time. You barely lasted a day before. Let's see how you handle a week alone. Is that enough time by yourself to keep you sane?" He stalks out the door without even hearing my protests. Why do I do this to myself?

The dolls are staring at me. Accusing me. I am evil, they tell me. I stole Spike from his princess, and I'm not being a good little lady. I will never be made a princess like this. They glare at me unceasingly until I am sure they will get up and attack. But they are just dolls, and I know they cannot. So why do I feel as if they watch me for someone?

Perhaps if they cannot see me, then I will feel better. I turn them around and lay on the bed, string back at them. But it is no use. They now face the cracked mirror, and I can see their reflections in front of the absence of my own. I find some scraps of gauzy cloth and use it as blindfolds to cover their piercing gaze. The feeling of being watched is gone, but now I hear their voices louder than ever. "She's going to hurt our Spike." "No, Spike is strong, he won't let her, but she might get hurt if she isn't careful." "She will get hurt even if she is. See, she hurts now. We are hurting her without even trying. But the pain ends soon and she will be our new mother. She will be Spike's Princess then." "And will we have parties too?" "Yes, every day. With cakes and tea. And we will be happy then."

"Stop it! Stop talking to me! You're dolls. You can't speak. Please stop." I hold my head in my hands and collapse to the floor as the chatter continues.

"Poor dear. She hurts so much, but she is fighting it. It would be over so fast if she only accepted it and gave in. We're not such a bad lot are we, Mrs. Anna?" "No, Miss Edith, but she isn't ready for us yet. She's still too strong. But she cannot fight forever."

I have to get out of here. Unless Spike really does want another Drusilla, I have to get away, and fast. I crawl to the door, still trying to block out the dolls' conversation. Spike was right. The solitude is much worse. Maybe he's outside just waiting for me to call him. No, he said a week. And he was really mad this time. But maybe I can get someone else's attention if I bang on the door. Unless, of course, he sent everyone away. I reach up to pound on the thick metal, and it moves slowly but smoothly under my touch. He left the door slightly open. And he won't be back for a week. This is my chance. I creep slowly out of the door, looking for minions, but I find none. He must really want to insure my privacy. Well, at least he cares, sort of.

As I reach the main hall, my stance changes. No longer skulking along the hall like someone who has just escaped imprisonment, I now assume the confidence and grace of the Master's chosen companion. With this attitude, no one dares question my right to be there or to leave the building.