Disclaimer: I own…nada.
Chapter 13
Cale watched as Arlene crouched down with the frightened little girl. He found the scene to be incredibly unexciting. What he had expected to be the pinnacle of his journalistic success; the story of a bawling child dragged from an unfit college-age mother by the cruel hand of the state, was turning into something even the most avid of Sunnydale U readers wouldn't pick up. Where was the drama?
"Can't you just, like, take her already? While she's crying?" The young man suggested, trying to make the best of the situation.
The steel-haired woman glared at him over her spectacles before turning back to the toddler before her. Cale rolled his eyes. It seemed he would have to spice his story up with a bit of drastic embellishment. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out an old pencil, used almost to a stub, and a small notebook.
At approximately 3:00am last night, Sunnydale U's youngest boarder was taken in a heart-wrenching struggle between her family, and the state. The state, represented by social worker-
"Arlene, right?" The columnist clarified.
"Mr. Burns, I am a bit preoccupied at the mom-"
"Got a last name to go with that?" He probed.
"If you would be so kind as to let me do my jo-"
"I'm just trying to get the facts; I run a paper that has to be out be tomo-"
"MR. BURNS!"
The elder's back grew rigid. In fact, her entire posture began to contort itself into something…not so human.
'Arlene' turned around.
"Oh my goddess!" Tara surveyed her cluttered dorm room. Traces of Willow were everywhere; on the ripped sheets, the clump of cat fur she had 'accidentally' pulled off of Miss Kitty Fantastico-but the babe herself was very much gone.
Tara was in a panic; if that woman was who, or rather, what, the dirty-blonde thought she was, time was of the essence. She couldn't have her innocent little girl sucked dry.
When Miss Maclay was in kindergarten, her bruises aroused suspicion at school. She was by no means an active child, and her wounds were generally very well hidden by the long-sleeved shirts her mother dressed her in. However, the close relationship she developed with her teacher, Ms. Appleson, during those long recess hours spent indoors, caused her to trust the woman enough to show her. Being a compassionate individual, the appalled Ms. Appleson called social services, and the same woman Tara had seen in the parking lot was called to investigate. She did not remember the specifics, being only five at the time, but Tara did recall how the social worker's face changed into something scary, and how her gray hair started becoming brown, and that her wrinkles receded as the woman grabbed her little arm. Though her mother had shoved the woman away from her at the last possible second, Tara was sure it would not have taken much longer for the demonic thing to drain all of Tara's energy.
If she was after Willow, the poor girl might not have had much time left.
Moving quickly, Tara gathered the needed supplies and a map of the Sunnydale U campus. It was time for a locator spell.
Buffy was conducting her usual rounds, and was almost disappointed by the lack of vamp activity. She had only slain one of the undead that night, and if no more showed up, she might just have enjoyed her lowest kill-count on record. The Slayer smiled at the thought. She could go back to her room and catch a full six hours instead of her usual four, snuggle under her covers, maybe invite Riley over to join-
'Bring!'The college student's fantasy was brought to a halt by the sound of her phone going off. Grumbling, she picked the phone out of her black leather slay-jacket and held it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Oh, um, hello Buffy."
"Hi Giles." She responded, lacking the usual enthusiasm. Giles never called with good news, which meant she had some new magi-creep to deal with. Yay.
"I-I'm afraid we have a-a problem." Buffy groaned. Sometimes she hated being right.
"Details?"
"A low-level demon posing as a-a social worker." Hm. The blond actually hadn't heard of that one before.
"The last sighting was, um, somewhere a-around the high school." The teen smirked. Figures you'd get demons by a Hellmouth.
"We, ah, haven't been able to track it, but y-you should be aware," the watcher paused, "E-especially with, uh, Tara's, um, daughter a-around. I-I shouldn't like to see her get hurt."
"No problem Giles; I…" The distinct chime of shattering glass caught the Slayer's attention, "I'm going to have to call you back."