sara – Tara is excellent with children. It's a gift and a vocation.

jaiden83 – I've never written Tara in a job that fits more than this one – even though it's tough to imagine these kids in these situations, it's so easy for Tara to fall into that emphatic role.

Tara let herself into the apartment and her nose immediately picked up the sharp, salty smell in the air.

"Please tell me that delicious smelling thing is dinner."

"It sure is," Willow replied, smiling over from her place in front of the stove, "Long day?"

Tara dropped her bag onto a chair and hung up her light summer jacket.

"Just…taxing. Lots of kids with lots of pain and not much good in a while."

Willow looked at her sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, baby. Why don't you pick something good to watch and I'll bring dinner over - grilled cheese and what was going to be a bowl but can now be a mug of tomato soup. Perfect TV dinner. We got so many portions out of that soup you made last weekend. There's still more in the freezer."

"That sounds like just what I need," Tara replied as she sat into the couch and took her boots off, "Pure comfort food."

Willow delivered a perfectly toasted, warm grilled cheese sandwich on a plate with a large, steaming mug of rich tomato soup moments later. Tara set the mug on the arm of the couch and left the plate on her lap.

Willow went back to the kitchen and made up her own meal in the same way, then returned to sit by Tara, who was pulling the halves of her sandwich apart.

She smiled at Willow.

"I know you're unsure of your culinary technique sometimes, but you make the perfect grilled cheese. So oozy and stretchy."

"The cheese does most of the work, I can't take credit," Willow replied with a charming grin as she caught a drip of soup sliding down the side of her mug on her thumb and licked it from there, "Is this that spy show Chuck? I've seen commercials. It looks funny."

Tara had only turned the television on and hadn't done much channel hopping.

"I just put anything on really, but I'm happy to watch it."

Tara was up for anything she could mindlessly engage in, so settled back and dipped the corner of her sandwich in her soup.

A little over forty minutes later, there wasn't a crumb or screed of food left in their dishes and they were hooked on the show. Willow was particularly excited and turned to Tara enthusiastically.

"Want me to download us the whole season?"

"Can you do it in the time it would take for me to shower and get into pyjamas?" Tara asked, ready to change out of her work clothes now her stomach was full.

Willow's eyebrow quirked in a sarcastic 'are you serious?' look.

"You're talkin' to the Whiz."

Tara grinned, kissed Willow's cheek and made her way into the bathroom. Willow quickly washed the dishes so Tara wouldn't have to worry about them, then went over to connect the laptop to the TV and got the next episodes ready to stream.

Tara wasn't long returning in linen pyjama pants and a tank top to keep cool on the warm summer night.

"I'm going to make a cup of raspberry tea, do you want some?"

Willow shook her head.

"No, but I'll take a cookie if there's one going."

Tara made herself the tea and brought the pack of peanut butter cookies with her. They cuddled together closer this time; feet up and holding hands, along with the cookies, between them.

"Ready?" Willow asked, leaning over to press play.

Tara took a sip from her tea and nodded.

"Ready."

Together they devoured the entire pack of cookies and laughed their way through half the season. Neither noticed the sun going down or the hours ticking by.

Tara came back from a bathroom break and pointed to the clock on the wall.

"Willow, look at the time. We have to go to bed."

Willow looked at the clock, pondered it for a moment, then looked back at Tara.

"One more?"

Tara only thought about it for a moment before quickly sitting back down.

"One," she insisted.

Three episodes later, they dragged each other to bed with the quickest tooth brush known to man and a grazing goodnight kiss before heads hit the pillow.

Tara closed her eyes and immediately fell into an exhausted, deep sleep.

She didn't know yet just how much she'd need it.

Tara was sleeping peacefully when the shrill buzzing of a cell phone woke her up.

With her eyes unopened, she started to berate Willow for it, when with a crack of her eye she saw it was coming from her nightstand. She grabbed at it, bleary-eyed, and couldn't make out the number, so just stuck it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked sleepily.

She listened for only moments before sitting up in bed, fully awake.

"Abby, Abby. Where are you?" she asked, throwing the covers off, "What's nearby? Is there a diner, or something that's open?"

She fell around the room, throwing clothes and shoes on.

"Okay, go in there and order something. I'll be right there. Don't leave that spot, Abby."

Tara fought the whopper headache that was pushing itself to the front of her head and grabbed two Tylenol from the bottle on her nightstand she'd been devouring over the past few days.

Willow's head lifted from the pillow, her hair going in all directions.

"Where are you going?" she asked groggily.

"To work," Tara replied, swallowing the pills and trying not to gag on the warm water.

Willow tugged Tara's pillow to her to hug.

"I didn't know you were on call."

"I'm not – it's an emergency," Tara explained, pulling a jacket on.

"Is everything okay?" Willow asked, sleepy but concerned.

Tara came over and kissed Willow's forehead.

"Go back to sleep."

Willow didn't need much convincing and cuddled back into the pillow and off to sleep.

Tara grabbed her wallet and went downstairs to hail a cab. She grew more agitated as it took longer to flag one down in the middle of the night, but eventually one came her way. She said the street name and sent Abigail a text that she was on her way.

Tara was sweating as she paid the cab driver, nervous to be on the street. It was a bad part of town and she wouldn't have walked Willow through it during the day, never mind imagining a teenager there alone in the middle of the night.

She spotted the all-night diner across the street and jogged over there quickly. Abigail was sitting in the far corner, nursing a milkshake and keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Abby," Tara said with relief upon seeing her unharmed, but saw the girl's eyes were filled with tears when she looked up, "Hey, hey. What happened? What are you doing out here?"

Abigail cried silently, used to keeping it quiet.

"I-I didn't know what to do, I-I didn't know who to call. He just took the money and ran, I…"

"Who?" Tara asked, but Abigail couldn't speak.

Tara consoled her for a few minutes until she was able to recover slightly.

"I have to get you back to the home."

"No!" Abby pleaded, "Please, no, no, not until…no…it was supposed to be gone, please…"

Tara soothed her again, then Abby went to the counter to grab more napkins to wipe her eyes with.

"I called the home so they know you're safe," Tara said when she returned, then added on quickly when she saw the look on Abigail's face, "I won't take you back 'til you're ready."

Abigail considered it, then nodded and sat back into the booth. Tara reached out and took her hand.

"Abby, what happened? What were you doing in this part of town at this time of night?"

Abigail wetted a new napkin with her eyes.

"He said I'd just bleed and cramp and it would be over. I thought it would just be over."

Tara tried to hide the anguish on her own face as she slowly realised what Abigail meant.

"Were you trying to buy abortion pills?"

Abigail's eyes filled again and she nodded. Tara held her hand between both of hers.

"Abby, is it…?"

Abigail sniffled and wiped the napkin under her nose.

"I never slept with anyone, not by choice."

Tara came around to the other side of the booth to hold her.

"You can't take something from the street. You have no idea what could be in it."

Abigail shook her head desperately.

"I can't have his…"

"There's a process. I'm going to go to a judge and get permission and we'll do this properly," Tara promised, "When did you find out you were pregnant?"

Abigail grimaced hearing the word.

"Yesterday. One of the older girls had tests in her room, I stole one. I didn't get my period last month…and I was late this month and…I knew this guy from school who can get anything…" she explained, looking like she might throw up, "Tara, I want to stab myself in the stomach thinking about it. I can't, I can't have it in me."

"I promise I'm going to help you," Tara replied emphatically, "I can't even imagine how difficult this is, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Abigail looked at Tara vulnerably, then gave a very brave nod. Tara hugged her to her chest.

"Thank you for calling me. You did the right thing."

Tara spent the next few hours comforting and reassuring Abigail back to a place that she was willing to go back to the home.

They waited until all of the other kids had left for the day before returning and Abigail went straight up to lock herself in her room.

Tara followed her up and knocked.

"Abby. Abby, I'm sorry, but you have to keep your door open."

She waited and after a moment the door unlocked. Tara left it ajar and stayed on the other side to give Abigail her space, peeking in through the crack.

"I'm going to bring you to a doctor later and make sure you're okay. Promise me if you feel unsafe you'll talk to one of your carers or call me."

Abigail nodded. She could do that much considering how kind Tara was being. She sniffed.

"Promise."

Tara offered her pinky through the door and Abigail looked at it, then up at Tara. She linked pinkies and Tara thought for a moment Abigail looked relieved, and inferred hopefully that she maybe felt a little safer.

Tara had to fill in the group home team on events and get them to organise the appointment and to call her so she would be there on time. She got a taxi back to work and pocketed the receipt to try and claim back.

She was just about keeping herself standing, so pretty much inhaled a coffee and an apple in the breakroom before rushing out when she saw Alice arriving.

"I need to talk to you about Abby," she said, then off Alice's blank look, "Abigail Weston."

"Good morning to you too," Alice replied good naturedly as she set her purse down on her desk, "Right, Abigail Weston. Well she was officially removed from her parents' custody, they're both being brought on charges related to the abuse and neglect, as far as I know. We talked about this at the weekly meeting."

Tara tried not to appear as frustrated as she felt.

"She ran away from the group home last night to get abortifacients off the street."

Alice did a double-take.

"She's pregnant?" she asked in shock, "Wasn't she tested before now?"

"She was traumatised, she refused all medical testing," Tara explained, "We were giving her some time."

"Is she back in the home?" Alice asked.

Tara nodded.

"She took a test and I've arranged a doctor's appointment. I'm back here to file the motion for the judge to approve the termination as soon as the doctor gives his report."

Alice nodded, then shook her head.

"That poor girl. Well, I approve of your plan if that's what you were asking."

"It's not," Tara replied somewhat curtly, "I need to get her into a foster home."

Alice held her hands up.

"Well we're trying, of course and she has her room in the group home until then."

Tara was sleep deprived and struggling to contain exasperation at the whole situation.

"She is a teenager, she is a flight risk, a self-harmer, she is pregnant from her rapist stepfather and she needs some god damn one-on-one attention and counselling."

Alice physically took a step back, not used to seeing Tara so het up.

"I can see if there's any places available in the county psychiatric unit if she's that bad…"

Tara's eyes twitched.

"You want to shove her in a scary hospital with kids with serious issues? She needs to be in a family home with love and support."

"They all need that, Tara," Alice reasoned.

Tara's hands were shaking.

"You want to have a fourteen year old get an abortion from her rape and go back to a group home to recover? Are you crazy?"

Alice was genuinely taken aback by Tara's demeanour.

"I don't know what you want me to do, Tara."

"MORE!" Tara shouted, getting the attention of the entire office and shock from Alice who remained mute, "Then I'll find a way. I will find her somewhere."

Tara flounced back to her desk and poured every ounce of strength, time and capability she had into finding a better place for Abigail.

She spent hours making phone calls, researching the state's intranet and writing up report after report.

Finally 10 minutes before she had to leave for the appointment, she made a breakthrough. Near collapse from lack of food or even more than a few swigs from a day-old bottle of water on her desk, she started loading papers into her purse.

"Tara, where are you going?" Alice asked from across the cubicles.

Tara had autonomy in arranging and going to her meetings, so she knew she'd pissed Alice off enough into monitoring her, but had too much else to worry about right then.

"To bring Abigail to her doctor's appointment and then to her new foster home."

Alice's eyes showed her annoyance at Tara's attitude.

"Who's taking her?"

"Jane Quickendale," Tara answered quickly.

"She hasn't been a foster parent in five years," Alice replied coolly.

"She's still registered," Tara countered, "I read her file and she did well with teenager girls and girls with a history of self-harm. We spoke on the phone. She was considering putting her name forward again and I think a single female household will be good for Abby. She's agreed."

Alice stayed stoically silent as she decided how to deal with this, but eventually just looked away and shook her head.

"Do you have the approval papers?"

"They're on your desk," Tara replied shortly, putting the papers down.

She turned to leave but Alice called her back.

"Tara," she said, firmly but keeping respectfully quiet, "You do good work, but rein it in."

Tara, who quietly followed orders, who took on every task she was ever asked, and who never even dreamed of insubordination looked through Alice coldly.

"If you're asking me to stop fighting for my kids, then you're not the mentor I thought you were."

She grabbed her purse, put it over her shoulder, and left to head back to the group home.

She hoped it would be the last Abigail would see of it.

Tara watched the new foster mother serve Abigail up a warm dinner with a warmer smile.

Abigail had been pleased to leave the loud and boisterous home, but nervous about where she was going. Tara had spent the car ride over reassuring her and when they'd gotten there, Jane, the foster mother had been waiting nervously too.

Jane was an experienced foster mother, however, and was able to play their mutual nervousness into bonding. She showed Abigail some photographs she'd taken in her previous life as a photographer and Abigail had expressed admiration at some of the locations and her desire to draw there.

Tara had hung around to make sure everything was okay and that Abigail would settle in okay, and was relieved to see she seemed to be. The other two laughed at something, a private joke that had already formed, and it made Tara push herself off the doorway she was standing in as she had started to fall asleep on the spot.

Jane noticed, patted Abigail on the shoulder and came over to Tara.

"Have we signed all the papers?"

Tara nodded tiredly.

"Yes," she said, understanding a hint to leave when she heard one, "Abby, will you be okay here tonight?"

Abigail looked over, looked between them, then nodded.

"Can I watch TV?"

"As long as you have good taste," Jane replied good-naturedly, making Abby smile.

She turned back to Tara and offered her the same shoulder pat.

"I'll take care of her."

Tara nodded; she trusted that that was true.

But it wouldn't stop her worrying.

There was still a lot more to do.

Tara stood outside the court house, in shock after the hearing with the judge.

"A paternity test? She's fourteen years old. She's never had a boyfriend or had sex with anyone and he wants her to do a paternity test?"

Her fists clenched.

"She's been raped repeatedly and he wants her to have to wait six weeks to undergo a god damn amnio? Because he doesn't think the state should have to pay for the early testing? Is he for fucking real? She hasn't even started high school! SHE'S FOURTEEN. "

Various lawyers, lawmakers and other professionals all looked in their direction and Alice had to pull Tara off to the side.

"Tara, we're obviously filing an appeal. That judge is a notorious misogynist. He's shaming a kid for his own agenda, I know, it's disgusting, but we have to press on."

"I'll pay for it for god's sake," Tara said, near tears, "She's not being subjected to this forced gestation for another six weeks. This is, this is another rape. This is criminal."

Alice grabbed Tara's shoulders.

"I know you're angry. I'm angry too. But you need to step back. You're getting too involved in this case."

Tara was shaking.

"I, I, I…"

She hadn't been quite so upset in a long time and had to walk away.

"I have work to do. I just…I have work to do."

Willow hovered at the bedroom doorway, in her pyjamas. Tara hadn't gone to bed at the same time as her in a week, even with Willow staying up later than usual to wait for her.

Willow was frustrated and worried.

"Tara? It's late."

Tara was spending so much time on Abigail's case that she'd had to bring all her other work home and had been working into the wee hours making sure no one was neglected.

"I'm working," she said shortly, without looking up.

Willow frowned.

"That's all you've been doing lately. You barely eat. We haven't watched a single episode of Chuck since that night, or even spent ten minutes together," she lamented, but Tara didn't respond, "You at least need some sleep. You've barely gotten any–"

"I'm working on a really difficult case with a really belligerent judge; can you please just leave me alone?" Tara snapped, but instantly regretted it.

She turned towards the bedroom.

"Willow, I'm–"

The bedroom door closed before she could finish and Tara sighed.

She popped two more Tylenol, pulled her next case file towards her and continued working.

Some time later, Willow woke to a strange, muffled sound. She lifted her head and noticed Tara's side of the bed was still empty. She sighed and shuffled out of bed, opened the bedroom door and immediately identified the sound as throwing up.

She approached the bathroom, which was in darkness, and flicked the lightswitch.

"Tara?"

Tara shielded her eyes and violently threw up, so Willow immediately knocked off the light again. Willow dropped to her knees behind her.

"Tara, what's wrong?"

Tara just made a wordless groan and held her head. Willow hugged her very gently from behind and held Tara's hair back as she started to retch again.

"It's gonna be okay, baby."

She spent a whole two hours murmuring reassurances into Tara's ear and rubbing her stomach. Tara was barely conscious, unable to keep her eyes open except when they would fly open as she heaved.

Finally a stretch of time passed where Tara wasn't sick and Willow all but dragged her into bed. She tucked Tara in beside her and touched her pale, cold cheek.

"You're overdoing it. You gotta take a sick day tomorrow, okay? No ifs, ands or buts. Get some sleep. It's all gonna be okay."

Tara barely made a sound, her breath laboured but even. Willow looked at her with concern and turned off the alarm. She pressed a delicate kiss to Tara's temple and gratefully closed her eyes for some rest too.

A few hours later, Willow woke again when the mid-morning sun bore into her eyelids. She blinked and sat up in the otherwise empty bed. Her eyes landed on a yellow post-it stuck where Tara's head should have been.

I had to go. I'm sorry.

Willow felt a surge of anger at how reckless Tara was being with herself. She scrunched up the note and threw it at the wall, then grabbed her cell phone.

Tara pressed reject on Willow's call for the tenth time, with a guilty look and an even guiltier conscience.

She had so much on her plate and she just couldn't deal with the angry phone she was expecting and deserved.

Though Abigail had settled very well into her foster home, Tara was no closer to procuring permission from the judge to schedule a termination, despite continuing to fight.

She had messed up on a stupid technicality on a form that had made another boy have to be taken out of his foster home temporarily until she could rectify it and the office had become a difficult environment to work in because of her outbursts of frustration.

She'd heard gossiping in the break room about her pill popping because of the Tylenol she was substituting for food and Alice was being shifty and authoritarian with her to put her back in her place.

Tara knew each facet of it was her own fault, but she just couldn't cope and the work kept piling on. She seemed to be being used as a scapegoat for anyone to brush work off to, knowing she was embarrassed about her behaviour and wouldn't complain.

She yet again was one of the last people in the office, though one of the few other people left, Alice, didn't seem happy about it as she approached.

"Tara, go home."

Tara was busying typing.

"I need to submit this before midnight."

Alice pressed the button that made the monitor turn off without actually turning the computer itself off, so no work was lost.

"Go. Home," she reiterated firmly, then added when Tara looked helplessly at the screen, "I will do it for you, okay? It's no big deal."

Tara's eyes were downcast but Alice could still make out how sunken they were. She leaned against the cubicle in concern.

"You look like death. When was the last time you ate? Or slept?"

Tara shrugged one shoulder and Alice spotted the name on top of the pile of files on her desk.

"Why are you doing this? This isn't your case," she asked, picking it up and flicking through the rest of them, "None of these are your cases."

Tara swallowed, unwilling to get on any more bad sides, but Alice figured it out pretty quick. She put a hand on Tara's shoulder.

"They can't take advantage of you losing your cool. I'm on your side, I always was. Let me deal with this and go home. Now. Don't make me make it disciplinary action."

Alice was being kind and making a little joke to say that they could move past the tensions of the past few days, but Tara was too perpetually anxious to read it properly.

With great force, she made herself not cry and grabbed her purse to leave.

The whole T ride home, her headache pounded deeper and deeper, until it felt like her entire was head was thumping. There were lights behind her eyes and while stepping off the train, she narrowly missed the gap, falling over it instead and straight into a pole.

She whacked her head against it and stumbled around, to no help from the dozens of other people milling around her, on and off the train.

Eventually Tara straightened herself, though felt disorientated as she walked out onto the street and almost rounded the wrong corner to get home. When she got inside she nearly started to cry again when she couldn't steady her trembling hand enough to get the key in the door.

She felt utterly awful; not in control of her own body and pain waving through every inch of her. She tripped forward and lucked out that the key pushed in. She clicked it and stumbled into the apartment. The door banged closed behind her and made her stomach lurch.

Willow was in the kitchen stirring something at the stove and stared at her with anger.

"Oh, how nice of you to come home."

Tara felt a pressure in the front of her head like something was close to exploding.

"Willow… can we please…not…I don't…feel…"

"Oh right, because only what you want matters," Willow sniped, throwing a wooden spoon she'd been using into the sink with a clatter and turning her back to Tara to get milk from the fridge, "Never mind that I have barely spoken to you in a week, not by choice; never mind that I'm worried about you or that I was up all night holding your hair back while you threw up. Nope, let's just continue ignoring Willow, what does she matter anyway?"

She turned back around and her eyes flashed with fury when she saw Tara wasn't standing there any longer. She slammed the milk down on the counter and rounded the corner out of the kitchen.

"Don't you dare walk away from me when we're–" she started, nearly screaming, but stopped when she saw her girlfriend's body lying unconscious where she had been standing, "Tara?"

She dropped to her knees and turned Tara over to see her face, tapping her cheeks urgently for some kind of response.

"Tara?"

The panic came quickly and she shook Tara forcefully, to nothing.

"Baby!"