(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

Gossip spreads pretty quickly in any women's dorm.

No one's seen Beth Lehrer since lights-out last night, and she wasn't at breakfast this morning. It's still early yet, but ... it's not like there are a whole lot of places she could have gone.

By ten o'clock, speculation's running rampant: maybe she went home for Christmas after all is the commonest suggestion, though without telling anybody? does make that seem less likely. It's not quite reached the level of worry yet.

Comments

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells' early morning classes tend to start a little too early and run a little too long to pick up the initial gossip, but that'll probably be fixed now that he's let the girls out. He's got a vague idea in his head that he's going to look for his missing key set- the spares to the armoury are on it- but there's a level of tension in the air in general as he sets out to look...

"Oi, you," he calls, picking out the nearest available girl who smells of unease. "What's going on?"

[sunnydalealum]

It's Tricia, and she's frowning. "No one's seen Beth all morning," she says. "Uh, brown-haired New York Beth, not blonde Midwest Beth or Beth who goes by Lizabeth."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

He has to think about that for a moment. "Ah, right," he says. "The older one, who had the problem with Spoon. When's the last time anyone did see her?"

Not like there's a lot of places to hide effectively on short notice, but if something's gone wrong, she could be- well, no, if anything could hurt one of the Slayers badly enough for her not to turn up at the building-

He'll speculate about that more in a moment. Information first.

[sunnydalealum]

"I ... don't even know. I think she was at dinner?"

Tricia twists her head around midsentence to address the last part of it at another Slayer, who shrugs.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Fuck," mutters Wells. "She didn't say anything about Christmas, did she?"

[sunnydalealum]

Tricia shakes her head. "Not to me."

"Isn't she Jewish?" asks the other girl -- Sylvia, that's it.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"And Hanukkah starts on the twenty-fifth this year. She'd've said something... Anyone spoken to- anyone remember speaking to her? She seem her usual self, or did she seem threatened or nervous?"

[sunnydalealum]

... well, Tricia's starting to look nervous.

"You think it's that serious?"

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"The grounds aren't that big. If she was out on the grounds last night she should've come back by now, it's not that fucking interesting out there. If she's not back, either she doesn't want to be back or she can't come back, and neither one of those is good."

[sunnydalealum]

Others are starting to gather around as Harry speaks.

"Should we be organizing search parties or something?" asks Nicol, sounding a little dubious.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Can't hurt. I'll take the blame for it if it turns out she's got a good reason."

Not that he thinks this is even remotely the case, but, you know. If.

"Small groups, four to six each- I want the place swept. And I want at least one group to head for the other teachers and ask them if they've seen her, straight off. If it turns out she had to leave for family Hanukkah in a hurry, she'd at least have told them."

[sunnydalealum]

The groups form rapidly and split off, and if some of them are clearly thinking of it as a training exercise of sorts, some are just as clearly starting to worry.

The ask-the-teachers group returns shortly, with the news that Ms. Harkness thinks she maybe might have seen Beth come in late to breakfast but can't be sure, and Ms. St. John says Beth didn't show up to this morning's history class. And nobody's heard anything about plans to head home -- "Ms. Harkness said to remind you," says one of the Slayers, "that there are reasons that's unlikely to be the case."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Shit, that's right," says Wells. "All right. Tracking time. Someone get me something of hers. I want to see if I can find her scent at the breakfast table or not."

[sunnydalealum]

It's Jordie and Paula who go back to the dorm to find something.

They return with a worn NYU sweatshirt, and the news that Ms. Harkness is setting her apprentices to scry for Beth and Mr. Giles is phoning some people. "And says we should keep each other informed," Jordie adds, holding out the shirt.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Smart of 'em," says Wells. "And thank you."

He's not normally the tracker in his family. Spoon's got a better nose for that than he does, and more reason. Still, he's good enough at it to manage, so after he sniffs at the shirt a few times he nods. "Got it," he says. "All right, let's start with keeping you lot informed. Paper, pens, and sellotape. Write down everything that's been tried, and everything else that's being tried, and stick it up on the wall. And put your name on it if you've contributed something, so the next lot knows who's working on what."

[sunnydalealum]

Word goes around, as the Slayers return in little clusters to report no sign. Tricia appoints herself recording secretary, asking each group where they've looked and where they're looking next, noting it down. Suggestions for where to look next fly back and forth.

Meanwhile, though -- Beth hasn't been in Harry's class in months.

But that scent's been nearby, and recently.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

It has. Wells knows fresh from old, and that's damned fresh. He crouches down to get closer, considering, expression going from puzzled to neutral to scowling. "Well, now," he mutters. "What the fuck are you playing at, girl?"

It's a trail, not just an in-by-mistake, out-by-backtracks; he's going to follow. The other girls are given a brief, gruff warning not to get in his way for a bit, and then he goes back to concentrating.

[sunnydalealum]

There's fear in that scent, a fight-or-flight adrenaline rush far beyond Beth's more habitual nervous unease.

The trail goes into and through the first level of the armory, where the practice weapons are kept. It stops at the locked door to the lower levels --

No. No, it doesn't stop. It goes through.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Shit," says Wells aloud as he realises the scent doesn't come away from the door. "Shit. Son of a fucking bitch-"

He starts patting down his pockets in a hurry. The spares might be missing (ha, right, missing), but he's still got the fucking originals.

[sunnydalealum]

There's a handful of worried Slayers clustering around the entrance to the first-level armory now.

Sarge is swearing. Well, Sarge is almost always swearing, but right now he sounds like he means it, and that can't be good.

"What is it?" one of them calls.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"She came this way," Wells answers over his shoulder. "Headed downwards and stinking of fear. There's no way on God's green earth that can be good. One of you run get Giles or Harkness."

He turns back to the door.

"We've got an enormous fucking problem."