The sound of a motor ripped through the air as Buffy sped towards the council's headquarters. The bright afternoon sun assaulted her eyes as she drove, willing for clouds to cover the sky. Being the kind of person she is, Buffy usually went out in the early evening and night, avoiding going out in the middle of the day. Usually she was either sleeping or training during the day, and when she was in the sun everyone could see her; over the years Buffy had been forced to bury her more social side and was now more than a little uncomfortable in the spotlight. At night she couldn't help but feel free, it was as though it awakened an ancient force within her; one that would not be silenced unless she was in the moonlight.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Buffy looked up at the large building ahead. She grimaced as she noticed the security standing at the front doors, no doubt sent to escort her inside. Reluctantly, Buffy pulled up by the building and stepped off her bike. As she walked towards the doors security moved both in front and behind her, forcing her to follow them. Buffy suppressed a groan; these Brits could be such drama queens.

Back in her apartment, Angel began to drift into consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes; fear momentarily flooding him as he woke up in the unfamiliar room. Looking around, he stopped when the scent of vanilla surrounded him. As his memories returned he looked beside him, his eyes widening as he realised the lack-of Buffy beside him. Quickly he got up, panic rising within him. Was she hurt? Had the council taken her away for helping him? Did she decide she wants nothing to do with him after all? Subconsciously he knew it was silly to be so worried about her, but his heart told a different story. Frantically, he searched the apartment, his panic turning into cold fear as he realised she was gone. Walking into the kitchen, however, he spotted a note lying on the counter. Carefully picking it up, he read the loopy writing.

Angel,

Good Morning- or afternoon by now. I hope you slept alright I tried not to wake you when I left, you really do need the rest. My trainer called and I have to stop by Headquarters. I should be back before nightfall, stay inside! Feel free to use the shower (down the hall, to your right) and/or raid my kitchen for any yummy-goodness you may desire. Oh! And I put your blood in the fridge (I hope that's okay, I figured it may be a good idea).

See you later,

-Buffy

PS: I forgot to mention, be careful where you sit down- I have a bad habit of leaving the occasional stake lying around. Sorry!

Angel stared at the paper, a smile creeping across his features. He didn't know why she had thought to give him a note, but the small gesture slightly warmed his unbeating heart. She cared, even if it was in a small way. And knowing that she's alright brought him more relief than he was ready to admit. Heading into the kitchen, he pulled his blood out of the fridge and after quickly heating it in the microwave (the one appliance he knew how to work) he sat down and began drinking from a bright pink mug while re-reading her note.

As he looked over her words his brow furrowed, she said that she had to go to Headquarters. Angel remembered his visit there, the security was really tight, and he seriously doubted people just stopped in for a visit. Was she in trouble for helping him? And who was her 'trainer'? Granted, he hadn't known her very long and had realised that she wasn't your typical colonist, but a trainer for what exactly? It was clear that she was some kind of warrior (which was a surprise in itself, given her petite frame) but then why did others seem to regard her as a child? So far he'd seen her around the man, Gunn, who spoke to her like some irrational kid, and then again when the others had arrived after Buffy saved him. The older men and women had looked at her in disbelief and disregarded her once Riley had opened his mouth.

He was tempted to look through her things a bit- to help figure her out, but he had an odd feeling that it would be the last time he ever snooped, or walked properly, if she found out. From what he'd seen of her, he guessed she was in her late teens or early twenties, and although he knew he could physically beat her in a fight when he was at his best, he could tell that she was not one to aggravate when you weren't able to run very fast. There was something about her though, besides his obvious attraction to her, that Angel sensed. It was small, buried under centuries of memories. Although he couldn't pinpoint what, he was certain that something was different about her.

"Different. Great observation there Sherlock, never would have guessed that one." He said to himself, beginning to pace around the kitchen.

Realizing that all he was going to do is put a hole in her floor, Angel headed into down the hall to her shower. Hopefully it'd help take his mind off her for a while; although the very idea made even the brooding vampire laugh. Taking a shower in a place where he knew for a fact she was naked a few hours before? Ya, that would take his mind off her for sure.

Back at headquarters, Buffy was lead down the long halls by a small group of warriors. Their uniforms told her that they were part of the council's more elite force, more like soldiers really. When she was younger, she and most of the other warriors were sent to a battle just outside of the colony. They had been put into vans and had no idea where they were going (due to the darkened windows) and by the time they got there it was too dark to see. She could remember watching them fight, and even now: years later she was unsure of her reaction. She had been partially in awe, they worked quickly and efficiently but they seemed a lot like robots; their emotions cut off and they left no room for individuality. For a lot of warriors, the elite force was a goal- an honour to be on. Buffy, however, wasn't quite sure if it'd be an honour or a curse.

After what was not nearly long enough, Buffy was pushed into a large room, the door was quickly slammed shut behind her.

"That was rude." She muttered, regaining her balance.

As she looked around she noticed that the walls were now white, and the room was almost empty except for a large silver desk in the center of the room. As she remembered the way that Gunn was coming from a few days before, she wondered if Angel had been brought here. Buffy quickly shook her head, realizing that it wasn't the time to get into those kind of thoughts again. Sighing, she began pacing slowly, already bored of the annoyingly bright room.

Her boredom was short lived, however, when a door on the other side of the room opened; a figure emerging from the entrance. He was strapping and tall, his hair was grey and cut short and his clothes were black and white. He had an undeniable scowl plastered on his face; Buffy decided that she didn't like this guy.

"Ms. Summers I presume?" he said, in a rather loud voice. "You're late."

"Oh, ya, sorry about that. My trainer couldn't get a hold of me-"

"You're lazy. And obviously have little or no regard for authority figures."

"Excuse me?" Buffy said, anger rising within her. "If I recall correctly, I was the one stuck standing here for the past five minutes."

The man's face turned a bright shade of red at her words.

"My name is Richard Garrison, and I am a exceedingly respected member of the council so I highly suggest you watch your mouth girl. Now sit down and shut up!"

Remembering Giles' earlier warnings, Buffy did as she was told.

"We received a report yesterday from Riley Finn." He said, picking up a nearby file. "It stated that you attacked his team and several civilians yesterday. A few of the civilians received mild bruises and were treated; however Riley was reported with numerous injuries. Several bruised ribs, his nose broken in multiple places, not to mention dozens of small bruises all over his body. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you Miss Summers?"

Buffy sat there shocked for a few moments before replying.

"That was so not all my fault! The civilians weren't backing off, and Riley did more than his share of damage before I even got there."

"You broke his nose Summers! Please feel free to tell me how that's his fault!" Richard yelled, throwing the file onto the desk.

"What he was doing was wrong!"

"By your standards!" Richard came up to her, his face inches from hers. "You are not on duty! It was not your place to intervene nor to make decisions on what is right and wrong. Riley is a senior officer and it is your job to stay out of his way!"

"He almost killed Angel!"

"Oh yes!" Richard threw his hands into the air. "Angel, the vampire correct? You attacked warriors on your own side to defend a hostile. This is not the way to get attention and you're breaking more than a few regulations. He is a vampire, we do not defend creatures like him."

"But you said so yourself he's not dangerous! He was helpless! There was an angry mob beating him and he didn't even try to retaliate!"

"This is not up for discussion!" Richard once again picked up the file and leafed through it. "The circumstances in this case are irrelevant. You assaulted a senior officer and several civilians and you will now have to face the consequences. You will write a letter of apology to Mr. Finn and it will be delivered by the end of the week and signed by him to ensure that it is to his satisfaction. You are to stay off the main streets from midnight to six a.m. for the next few weeks. Also, for the remainder of the month you are not to be seen riding that offensive motorcycle, you will take it home today and no one will here it's motor for the next month. You will stay at least ten feet away from any members if Riley's team for the next week and will not attempt to get any form of 'payback'. You are also, until further notice, no longer allowed to see or speak to Mr. Charles or Ms. Faith."

Buffy stared at the man before her, suppressing the urge to wipe the annoying smirk off his face. Slowly standing, she turned to leave not trusting herself to speak. She headed to the door but stopped when she heard his voice.

"Oh, and this incident will be noted on your permanent record. I hope that it was worth it Miss Summers because this will be seriously taken into account if anyone is to ever consider letting you on duty. However given the circumstances, I highly doubt that will ever become a problem."

"Meaning?" Buffy gritted out, unknowingly clenching her fists.

"Meaning, the day that the council lets a brat like you on active duty; will be the day that I die."

With her last ounce of self-control, Buffy walked out the door; silently vowing that some day she would prove him wrong. Sighing, she left the building, until then she'd have to settle with beating up Giles' punching bag for a few hours. Looking at her watch, she got on her bike and sped towards her trainer's house, willing to get the lecture over with that would undoubtedly follow her report of events. She inwardly groaned, wondering if falling off the edge of the earth seemed like such a bad idea after all.

End of Chapter Eight.