Donna is nervous. She's noticed a change in her new houseguest. Natalya still smiles. She's friendly. But she declines Donna's offers to help her more frequently.

The soldier is no more capable or mobile than she used to be. Without her leg prosthetics, bound to the wheelchair and the first floor she's less so. But she's been more standoffish. Despite needing it she's declined help for a bath twice now.

Meals become more lavish. Natalya takes more and more time fixing dinner. Her ingredients remain of the rural quality they have been, but with days upon days and hours of practice the food is improving drastically.

Compounding Donna's worry over Natalya's behavior is the frequency of mother Miranda's visits.

"Donna," Miranda growls and massages her face beneath her mask, "Donna, dear," Her voice softens and she removes her mask.

Donna's heart pounds in her chest. She's never seen Miranda's bare face. She always thought that beneath the mask she'd be less intimidating. But there is something more disturbing. There is a human face, but no human emotions. In her golden eyes is nothing but a narcissistic void. Miranda cares for no one but herself.

Miranda's smile doesn't reach those disturbing eyes.

"Show me how you move it."

This is a small tree in a pot Miranda has moved into the foyer. They've been doing this for days. Miranda brings different things, sometimes herbs other times tomes with spells and rituals, to try and help or entice Donna to show her the development of her powers. Nothing has brought about any results.

Any small sound in the kitchen is more interesting to the dollmaker. She loves watching Natalya cook. She loves watching her new toy soldier do anything, really. Since she's come to terms with her attraction to the woman it's easier to watch her. There's no lingering thought as to why, why is she watching? Now she knows.

"Donna!"

"Leave her alone!" Angie shrieks as Donna gasps so suddenly she sucks her veil into her mouth. Needless to say the taste is nothing short of revolting and she gags and chokes.

"Donna?" Natalya's voice echoes from the other room.

Miranda's lips peel back to bare her teeth, "Stay out of this!"

Natalya may be a soldier but she doesn't follow orders. Not anymore, and especially not from a witch. She readily wheels herself into the foyer. Before she can get a word out Miranda vaults her in a serpentine form of feathers and smoke.

Golden talons close around Natalya's throat. This both cuts off her airway and punctures her skin in five places. She can't lift her left arm. It's made from a metal born of the mold. Something completely under Miranda's control. Her human hand grabs at Miranda's wrist out of instinct but reasonably she knows it won't do a thing.

The entire mansion shudders and groans. Miranda's tree slashes across her back, smashing her wings and grabbing her to tear her away from Natalya. Both women slump to the floor.

"Natalya," Donna pulls her close, sheltering her from Miranda.

Natalya wants to answer her. She wants to say she's fine and reassure Donna but tears are running from both eyes and her body is shaking uncontrollably. For a split second it crosses her mind, is this fear?

"That's what I was afraid of," Mother Miranda murmurs, rising to her full height completely uninjured.

"I'll be back tomorrow Donna. If you cannot move that tree without your plaything's life being threatened, then I will remove it."

Donna's hands close. Fists clench full of Natalya's shirt. Her teeth grind together until she can hear her bones creak.

"No."

"No?"

Donna can't bring herself to speak again.

As Natalya looks up Miranda makes eye contact for a moment. Then she stares at Donna, "Then you'll do as I demand."

Once Miranda is gone Donna tends to Natalya's neck. There are five crescent shaped punctures that are already red and inflamed as though infected.

It's perfectly quiet in the bathroom. Natalya sits on the kitchen sink while Donna gently dabs the cuts with alcohol and cotton balls. To Donna it's soothing. She's in control of the situation. Natalya is here. She is hers. And Miranda is in for a hellacious battle if she thinks Donna is going to let her take Natalya away.

"What does fear feel like?"

"You, fight for your life. It's sharp, and sudden. You hate it," Donna replies softly, "I hate it."

"Huh."

For a few moments it's quiet, then Natalya cracks that rugged smile. It makes Donna's chest flutter and she herself smiles faintly.

"I think I amost felt it."

Donna's not sure why, or how, but she laughs. She laughs a soft little sound like bells in a garden. But in her chest her heart feels like a stone. She won't let Miranda take her away. She'll kill Miranda before she lets her take Natalya away.