The Mirage was an extravagant place. It was a bar, but it did have rooms for them to stay in. Granted, those rooms were not usually used for sleeping, but visitors to the city and displaced homeowners were in no position to be fussy. Illisaith had charmed his way toward acquiring three rooms. Letting Ari and Stan have their space seemed to be a good idea. Star and Illisaith had claimed a second room, leaving Rosalyn happily alone for the first time in weeks.

She dropped gratefully onto the lavish bed and sighed contentedly. It had been very strange watching Illisaith be charming. It was like watching Stan be anything other than mockingly caustic. She found it vaguely disturbing. Also disturbing were the strange looks the Image kept giving her. It almost reminded her of the looks a few of the boys had given her from time to time in the Hero Academy. The last thing she wanted to know was that Stan's reflection was attracted to her.

She had to admit, though. He looked really nice in Rashelo, dripping with water, and-

Stop now. She would grudgingly admit she had found him handsome, and that was it. She laid staring up at the ceiling for a while longer and tried to convince herself that she needed to get up long enough to take her sword belt off, at least…

Something was wrong.

Rosalyn sat up quickly just in time to see an ebony shadow slide under her door. "Stanley!" she yelled, standing and drawing her rapier in one fluid motion. Something told her that wasn't right. She was still hyper-aware of his location, and it was not right there.

Before her mind could continue to the next natural conclusion, a voice that sounded very much like Stan's spoke from somewhere in the depths of that darkness. "Survey says, 'guess again'."

Not a quip Stan would have gone with, and therefore a dead giveaway. "Illisaith?" Rosalyn asked. She lowered her rapier for about a second until her confusion decided to become anger again. "What are you doing sneaking into my bedroom?" she demanded, holding the point to his throat as he reformed.

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to," he answered in mock injury. His words may have expressed confusion, but his voice and expression belied it. He lightly grabbed the blade and stepped into it. "If it would please you to kill me, then do so, for I would have no greater pleasure than giving you yours."

Rosalyn wasn't sure whether to be hateful or flattered. She stared at him, trying to decide, for a very long time before she remembered he was still standing against the point of her rapier and sheathed it. "What do you want?" she bemusedly asked at last.

Illisaith grinned evilly. "Only to know that my affections are not given in vain."

This was, by far, already the strangest conversation Rosalyn had ever had. Illisaith was Stan. He was created by Stan, to be exactly like Stan, and even the fact that he was trying very hard not to be Stan did not change the fact like he looked and sounded and talked (for the most part, at least) exactly like Stan. "…Why?"

He walked toward her arrogantly, and she retreated until her back hit the wall, where she was forced to berate herself for her stupidity in allowing him to trap her. As she tried to figure out how to get free, Illisaith grabbed her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth. It was long, it was passionate, and Rosalyn thought she fell in love. Then she felt a little sick.

This was Stan! Granted, it was Illisaith, but it was still Stan. Although…Stan certainly never would have tried that. No, no, he wouldn't have…"YOU!" Rosalyn slapped him hard. He just laughed and backed away.

"It was worth it," he assured her happily.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing! You're just trying to use me to prove to everyone that you're not Stan!"

Illisaith sulked. "Hey, that's not fair! Anyway, I saw the way you were looking at me in Rashelo. You wanted that, and you know it."

"Don't you start trying to tell me what I want! What I want is for you to get out of my room!"

His eyes went dark. If this were Stan, she would have expected a fight, or at least an argument. But it wasn't Stan, and as he turned back toward the door, she let her guard down ever so slightly.

Looking back, she should have seen it coming.

She suddenly found herself forced against the wall, his arm against her throat and his amber colored eyes mere centimeters from her own. He caught her gaze and try though she might, she couldn't struggle. She couldn't even close her eyes as he invoked his powers of hypnosis.

"I could make you do what I want…" he murmured as her struggles slowly ceased and her eyes went blank.

Illisaith may have wanted to be as little like Stan as possible, but the very core of his existence was based on being evil, on taking what he wanted without regard for the consequences. He wanted Rosalyn. Every particle that made up what he was demanded that he go through with what he was thinking of doing.

It was with considerable difficulty that he let go. Rosalyn relaxed slightly as her brain kicked in again, then plastered herself to the wall and tried to reach the hilt of her rapier. Her arms still weren't cooperating.

Illisaith's expression was mostly unreadable. There was anger, but it seemed more toward himself than at her. He turned away from her and became a shadow again, then retreated back the way he had come.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself back in the room he shared with Star. "That was not supposed to go like that."

"Do I desire to know what occurred?" Star asked. "Or would silence be more prudent?"

To tell her, to tell her off, to ignore the question…half his mind commanded him to destroy something; the other half was trying to convince him to go back into Rosalyn's room. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, crossed his arms over his knees, and dropped his head onto them. "It didn't go well," he said miserably.

"You are attempting to fight against what you are," Star said quietly. "It is a difficult battle to win. You did not…?"

"Hurt her? No." He sighed heavily. "I wanted to, though."

"But you did not, and that it is good. There is yet hope, yes?"

Illisaith scoffed. "Yeah, right. After that, I highly doubt it. She didn't like me to begin with; now, she probably hates me."

Rosalyn stood for a very long time staring at the place Illisaith had been standing. He had let her go. She had absolutely no power to resist him, and he had let her go. She couldn't help but wonder if Stan would have, then pushed the thought away. Illisaith was not Stan. He had almost given in to temptation, and had been furious with himself for it. Stan would never have tried that to begin with.

Rosalyn looked around the room hoping for some divine inspiration or intervention. When none was in evidence, she decided to ignore her better judgement and went quietly down the hall after Illisaith. She needed to know why.

The door opened the barest crack at her knock and more light than could be readily accounted for spilled into the hall. The door opened a little wider and a pair of ocean blue eyes peeked out. "You will not harm him?" Star asked quietly.

"I just want to talk," Rosalyn promised.

For a creature with only eyes to work with, Star had an amazing array of facial expressions. She seemed to grin hugely as she turned and chimed something.

"Huh?" Illisaith asked blankly.

"Rosalyn," Star affirmed.

Illisaith cursed and jumped to his feet, brushed himself off, and contrived to look the very picture of egocentricity. She didn't seem angry or hateful, but one could never tell with her. At least, he never could. After all, he had expected her to throw herself into his arms as soon as they were alone. He was still hurt from her accusation and angry with himself for what he almost did. He was fully expecting this to turn into a shouting match, and the way he was feeling right now, he would be more than happy to oblige. Actually, he didn't think he'd be able to resist.

"So what do you want?" he demanded quite a bit more sharply than he had intended. "If you're looking for an apology, you're not going to get one."

Star squealed slightly, and he winced. "Be pleasant."

"Star, do you mind leaving us alone for a minute, please?" Rosalyn asked without taking her attention off Illisaith.

"You, too, be pleasant," she answered as she slipped out the door and closed it behind her.

They glared at each other for a long time. Finally, Rosalyn broke the silence. "That wasn't very nice."

"Neither was what you did!"

"What did I do?" she demanded.

Illisaith sniffed haughtily and turned away. "Accusing me of insincerity."

"Hey, you! Look at me when I'm talking to you." He turned his head slightly but did not actually turn around to face her. She huffed and decided not to pursue the matter. "What am I supposed to think of you? Either you're Stan, or you're not Stan. You can't have it both ways."

He turned the rest of the way around. "I'm not trying to," he informed her. "I am trying very hard not to be him. I want to be my own person. What pissed me off was you accusing me of using you."

"Because that's the sort of thing Stan would do," Rosalyn finished for him.

"Exactly."

"So were you, or weren't you?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again just as quickly as it finally hit him what she was talking about. "You think I like you because he doesn't."

"Don't you?"

He grinned then, and started laughing. "Sure, okay, we'll go with that!" he agreed. "But just out of idle curiosity, if he really hated you as much as you think he does, do you think I, being him as you seem to think I am, could bring myself to even pretend that I liked you?"

Once Rosalyn had puzzled through the confused statement, the silence in the room became palpable. "You…have…got to be kidding me…" Rosalyn said quietly.

"I'm just saying," Illisaith answered. "It's worth thinking about."

"I don't think I want to anymore." Rosalyn shuddered in comical exaggeration. "So…just to make sure we're perfectly clear here, you were serious?"

He bowed ironically. "Woman, I am never serious," he answered impishly. "But I am sincere."

"Then stop calling me that," she demanded. "My name is Rosalyn."

Illisaith grinned in smug victory. "Tch. Whatever …Woman."

Some things never change.