Author's Notes: Apologies for being a bit late with updating. Last week I was preparing presents for Christmas, and then right after I got knocked off my feet with the flu. My brain is finally working well enough for a final proof round and getting this published.

Author's Soundtrack:
Beautiful Crime - Tamer

Chapter Two

They crossed the River Thames and headed towards Southwark. From the bridge, the Consulate was visible. It wasn't that it was the tallest or most intriguing building along the river. The glassy spire that was The Shard had that privilege. It's angular sides stretched high into the sky, like a colossal spear trying to pierce the heavens. In comparison, the Consulate was rather nondescript. Its structure was in the traditional rectangular shape, built mostly of bricks and glass, and only standing higher than some of the older buildings in the area. It was the large crane stationed on the roof that really made it stand out.

Despite their depleting coffers, their new Chancellor was sparing no expense to erase the damage from Aizen's attack. Giving the building new updates and upgrades as they went. Rukia personally preferred consulates be more low-key. They didn't need people gawking at their buildings and drawing unwanted attention.

The surveillance van turned off the main road and pulled up to a heavy steel door at the base of the building. They waited a few seconds before the door lifted and granted them access to the parking garage below. The driver gave a wave to a camera mounted above the door and drove inside.

The garage was several levels deep. The first few levels were dedicated to parking, mostly for the human commuters who worked for the Council's more legitimate business. Once packed to capacity, now only a few cars were scattered about.

After the attack, the Council halted their business ventures until they could regain control of the territory and repair the facilities. With services suspended, there was no income, making them entirely reliant on their reserve funds. It took three months to contain Aizen's soldiers and deal with the mess they made. The minute Rukia informed the Chancellor the situation was within their control, construction on the business floors got the green light. Nearly four months into construction and they only had a handful of the floors functional. As each floor was completed, the councilors scrambled to fill the vacancies and stop the haemorrhaging of funds. They still had ten floors to go.

Below the commuter floors was a level dedicated to Council vehicles. Slick black sedans, vans, SUVs, and motorcycles were lined up row after row. Their location far beneath the building shielded them from the majority of the attack, much to the Council's relief. Lord knew how much money the Chancellor would have spent to replace every single one of them if they'd been damaged or destroyed.

At the end of the garage was a wall of glass doors leading into the basement levels of the Consulate. Elizabeth Taylor and her Alpha Team stood out front. They were still dressed in their gear, black from head to toe, but their weapons had been returned to the armory. Dr. Bell stood amongst them, looking like a Grecian sculpture clothed in white. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she presented a severe glare that put even the toughest hunter in their place.

When the van stopped in front of the doors, Rukia hopped out and offered Ichigo a helping hand. He glared at it as if it had personally offended him and every member of his family.

"I think I can manage getting out of a van," he snarled.

"Of course you can," she replied flatly. Her eyes fell to the puddle of blood that had soaked the seat he'd been sitting in. He scowled in response and stepped out of the van. She waved the doctor over.

"Councilor Kuchiki. Agent Kurosaki." Dr. Bell greeted them with steely composure. Her brown eyes narrowed in on Ichigo. "It seems you ran into a bit of trouble."

"Can you inspect the wound?"

"It's a scratch," Ichigo stated. "It barely broke the skin."

Dr. Bell gave him a sharp look reminiscent of a mother challenging a petulant child. Rather impressive, considering she barely looked a day over 23. "If there was poison on the weapon, broken skin is all it would take."

Ichigo stiffened and Rukia gave a satisfied smirk.

"And what about you?" The doctor turned her frightening gaze on Rukia.

"I suffered a dislocated shoulder-"

The doctor's hands were immediately on her shoulder. She poked and prodded with the tips of her fingers, inspecting the joint. The only thing that hurt was her pride. A dislocated shoulder was a simple matter, but she didn't dare challenge the doctor. Unlike Ichigo, she knew what battles to fight.

Seemingly satisfied with her findings, the doctor gave her an approving nod and motioned for Ichigo to follow her. Ichigo didn't budge, sending Rukia a pleading look. She only shrugged and pointed for him to do as he was told. He gave her a pointed glare, flicked her off, and followed the doctor inside.

"With that much energy you know he isn't poisoned."

Elizabeth now stood beside her, watching in amusement as Ichigo trudged his way towards the infirmary.

"Don't tell him that. Do you know how difficult it is to get him to see a doctor?"

"Like all newly transformed, he probably thinks he's invincible. I was like that once."

Rukia studied her top team leader, mildly curious about the story that put such a thoughtful expression on her face. Elizabeth was a monster. Tall and well built, she was a forced to be reckoned with in the field. With her thirties years working as a Hunter she had an amazing track record, which led to her heading her own team in under ten years. Rukia hadn't known her then, but her file spoke for itself. It wasn't much of a surprise to hear she might have been foolhardy at one point in her life.

"Unlike you, I doubt he'll grow out of it."

"He certainly is stubborn."

Which is probably why she enjoyed riling him up every now and again. Sometimes he was simply too serious. And recently he'd been more broody than usual. It was more than likely due to his limited contact with his sisters. Their schedules and the time difference made it difficult to get in touch when the girls were awake or not in lessons. For their own safety, the twins couldn't contact Ichigo directly, e-mail and text messaging included. Everything was to go through Kisuke to ensure they spoke on a secure line.

The chances of Aizen retaining any interest in the Kurosaki family were limited, but she wasn't willing to risk it. It wore on Ichigo, but he didn't argue. Until they found and dealt with Aizen they couldn't give him any opportunity for leverage. She had hoped after so long they would have made some sort of progress, but they were still in the place as they were last year - nowhere.

"By the way, I have something for you." Rukia pulled out her phone and sent the Captain a grainy picture of their rogue. The alley had been dark, but there was enough light to give a hint of his appearance - dark hair, pale skin, and an eye patch.

"Aw, you shouldn't have." Elizabeth's phone beeped and she took a look. She frowned and evaluated the image more closely. "This our guy?"

"I believe so. The wounds on the girl he was feeding on are more severe than previous victims, but he might have just done that to get under our skin."

Elizabeth nodded. "The victim profile matches as well. The tech guys sent us information on the recent victim. Young, single woman, alone and drunk from a night out on the town. Apparently, she'd been out with friends, but left the bar they were at for some reason."

"Lone drunk girls are hardly surprising targets. Thankfully, the bodies have scared most of the women in town into pairing up."

"It'll still make it difficult to find him before he gets another girl."

Rukia sighed. The idea of someone else falling prey to this asshole was more than frustrating. Even worse, it would mean exposing Ichigo to a similar scene like tonight. It was difficult to get his shocked and pained expression out of her mind. He was still too new to their world to be accustomed to such sights of violence. Hell, it wasn't any easier for her. Most vampires favored clean attacks. Less mess, less fuss, and it usually kept hunters off their trails if they were breaking any laws. This bastard enjoyed the brutality of his assaults, the gore and misery they left behind.

"Leak his picture to every authority in London and the neighboring areas. Even if he isn't our rogue, he's someone we can't leave loose in the territory."

Elizabeth stared at her.

"Is there a problem?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? Getting the humans involved?"

It probably wasn't. Sending humans after a dangerous target would more than likely result in unnecessary bloodshed, but if they wanted to catch this guy quickly they would need all the help they could get. "They'll be our eyes and ears. We don't have enough of our own resources available to focus on this one guy while maintaining control on the rest of the territory. If we're lucky, they'll spot him but never manage to get close enough to risk themselves."

The doors to the Consulate opened and a middle-aged man in a suit hurried over to them. Rukia vaguely recalled he was a secretary.

"Councilor Kuchiki, the Chancellor is requesting your presence."

The last thing she wanted was to deal with his pompous ass after the night she'd had. "No thanks."

Her blatant rejection clearly shocked and upset the man. His mouth dropped open and he stuttered as he tried to comprehend what she'd said. All he could manage to do was look desperately to Elizabeth for assistance.

Showing the man some pity, Elizabeth tried her hand at convincing Rukia to go. "It's either now or later when he's more worked up you refused him. Let's not forget that he controls the purse strings."

That little reminder caused Rukia to crinkle her nose in annoyance. She made a valid point. The last thing she needed was for the Chancellor to start getting stingy with her budget. It was unlikely, considering her department dealt with the physical threats, and any further financial limitations would impact the safety of the territory, but it wouldn't stop him from at least making the threat. He could be such a child sometimes.

"Fine. I'll head up after I shower and change."

The secretary still looked worried. "He said it was a matter of some importance."

He flinched when she growled. She was tired, wet, and cold. All she asked for was 20 minutes to warm her bones and get clean dry clothes. Was that too much to ask for? Perhaps the Chancellor knew what state she was currently in and he was looking for a good laugh.

Bastard.

"I want that image out in the next hour," Rukia ordered over her shoulder as she marched towards the doors, imagining different ways to make the Chancellor pay for her current suffering.

When they entered the elevator, Rukia leaned against the wall and huffed in exasperation. Quietly, she continued to grumble about impatient assholes. With each curse, the assistant grew more uncomfortable, shifting to put as much distance between them as possible in the small compartment. She didn't care. There was no reason to have her rushing up to meet with him, no excuse to rob her of being warm and having clean clothes.

Unless. . .

Her heart hammered against her chest in anticipation. Maybe he had a lead on Aizen. If that was the case, she just might sing his praises and take back all the horrible things she thought about the man. Or, she halted in her tiny jubilation, maybe he wanted to talk about new drapes. Groaning, she rested her head on the wall. It was probably about drapes.

The pleasant chime of the elevator rang out as the doors opened. The long sterile hall leading to the Council Chambers and the Chancellor's personal quarters stretched out before her. Another redesign. She hated how bright it was, and now she despised how it echoed her every movement.

The thick material of her pants swished loudly as she walked, her shoes joining in chorus with the occasional squish. Embarrassment of being seen in such a haggard state quickly shifted to annoyance. By the time they arrived at the sleek double doors of the Council Chambers she was downright livid. If she didn't rip the Chancellor's head off by the time she left it would be a miracle.

Her frustration was enough that she nearly snapped at the secretary when he stood frozen in front of the doors, his hand raised to knock. If the Chancellor was expecting her, there was no reason the hesitate. And if she had to stay in these clothes a minute longer than necessary she would paint these white walls with red.

Then she heard the raised voices cut off by punctuated growls. Great, she thought with an audible groan. It wasn't just the Chancellor she would have to deal with, but the whole damn Council. And it sounded like they were in a grand mood. The poor secretary was scared stiff. If he interrupted whatever argument they were having it would be his head.

Feeling merciful, she tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to move aside. Relief washed over his features as he took several steps back and waited with bated breath as she opened the door.

"I've had enough of your shit, Henry!"

Rukia jerked her head back at the sharp pitch of Hiyori's voice as she railed.

"Look who's talking, Pip Squeak! You haven't stopped squawking since we got here!"

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me. Unless you've gone deaf as well as dumb?"

"Why you- come here you overgrown, skinny son of a bitch! I'm going to rip all that pretty ginger hair out of your head and make a fucking hat!"

Hiyori stood atop her chair, poised to launch herself across the long conference table. Her hand was on her sword, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt. Beneath her skin, her muscles twitched with anticipation. The focus of her ire appeared to be one of the new councilors, Henry Smith.

At only 90, Henry was one of the youngest councilors and was looking rather smug. He stood on the opposite side of the room, under the impression it was enough to keep him out of Hiyori's reach. A mistake on his part. Rumors of Hiyori's physical abuse and explosive anger were not exaggerated, and if he wasn't careful, he would find out just how accurate they were.

Lisa and Love stood on either side of Hiyori, prepared to pin her down to keep her from shedding blood. They didn't dare touch her unless she made her move, lest they find themselves the targets of her wrath as well.

Fights between councilors weren't uncommon. It was more the norm than civilized conversation. Most of the fights were verbal spats rather than anything physical. Meetings were often drawn to a close before swords were drawn. But considering it was Hiyori, and how aggravated she was at the moment, there was a chance someone was going to bleed tonight.

Maybe she could slip out and get that shower after all.

"Councilor Kuchiki, so good of you to join us."

Damn.

Rukia glared at Councilor Harrington, a scrappy strip of a man with braided graying hair, a pointed beard, and a hooked nose. He smiled, his wrinkled lips spreading over crooked, yellowing teeth. To an outsider, he might seem a friendly old man, eager to distract from the squabble, but she knew better. Behind his gleaming gray eyes she could see the gears twisting and turning, wondering how to use her to his advantage.

The room grew quiet and all eyes were on her. Any hope of escape was gone. Closing the door behind her, Rukia gathered her pride around her like an invisible cloak of armor.

"Councilors," she greeted, making her way toward the only empty chair. In the silence of the room, the sounds of her wet clothes were more audible. Somehow she managed to keep from cringing as she crossed the room and took a seat. Without a doubt, the expensive fabric on the chair was ruined.

"Did you forget your umbrella?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes at Rose. He looked legitimately curious, except for the almost imperceptible curve to the corner of his lips. Not for the first time, she considered cutting off all of his blonde hair while he slept.

"It had occurred to me to bring one, however, they tend to be rather cumbersome when doing field work," she quipped. Rose only looked amused. He was probably more concerned about her drab appearance than antagonizing her.

"You were in the field again?"

The simpering voice of Councilor Michaels had her flinching mentally. Of all the things she wanted to avoid, an argument regarding a councilor's level of involvement when it came to their duties and the risk to their safety as a result, was one of them. And she most certainly didn't want to get into that argument with Councilor Michaels.

The rotund vampire was studying her from across the table. His large, black, caterpillar eyebrows were furrowed in intense worry. His motives were hardly malicious. In fact, if he had his way, every councilor would be locked within the Consulate where they could all remain protected from any outside harm. Even Kaname's betrayal was blamed on external forces. According to Michaels, the past year could have been avoided if the councilors had remained indoors.

The root of his fear was the attack itself. Michaels had been severely injured in Kaname's escape, and he had watched several of his close friends cut down in front of him. The thought of suffering another assault terrified him and drove his desire to keep everyone safe. To some degree, she could understand his feelings. The thought of losing anyone close to her again was terrifying, but she wouldn't permit it to grab hold of her and lock her in place. Aizen couldn't be stopped from the safe confines of a building.

"I was."

As expected, Michaels paled, his jaw dropping in his astonishment. It fluttered as he tried to regain his voice and demand she stop such activity at once. She held up a hand to cut him off.

"I understand your stance on this matter, Councilor Michaels; however, my position does not allow for the luxury of working separately from my subordinates. Such detachment would only hinder our work. It's important they see me, speak with me, work with me; know and comprehend that I am willing to work in the trenches with them, and risk my own life for them and this Council. It promotes camaraderie and loyalty."

"Councilor Kuchiki," Harrington began slowly. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and pressing his fingers together as if he was about to impart wisdom to his children. What she saw was a man threatened. Loyalty to one did not mean loyalty to the whole. Harrington read in her message that her hunters were loyal to her, not the Council - not to him. "Our roles within the Council are extremely important. It is vital we remain distant, so we might continue our work despite what happens outside these walls."

We are important. We must separate ourselves from those who are beneath us.

Rukia detested such notions that her position put her life above others, above Elizabeth and Dr. Bell, above Ichigo.

"For some of us, perhaps," she said, careful to say "us" and not "you". "When it comes to my department, however, creating such divides will only result in weakening the Council. My hunters are the first line of defense and I will use whatever means necessary to ensure they are as strong as possible. Of course, how you choose to run your own department is between you and the Chancellor. I would never presume to tell you how to manage your own people."

Harrington's eyes flashed at her defiance, but she would not yield. She would not retreat back into what was considered appropriate again. She would be guided by what she thought was right.

She kept her gaze level with Harrington. If he thought he could glower her into submission, he was sorely mistaken. Only her brother was capable of such a feat, and this man couldn't hold a candle to Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Exactly!" Hiyori cheered, grinning madly as if she'd won a rather lucrative bet. She was still standing on her chair, but her hand had finally released its stranglehold on her sword. A few of the councilors relaxed now that the threat of physical harm seemed to diminish.

"Hiyori, I don't think Councilor Kuchiki's point means you can continue to do whatever you want, how you want, to whomever you want," Love informed her stoically.

Hiyori's brown gaze snapped to Love and she snarled. "I don't wanna do all that bullshit. I just wanna do my job."

"Pretty sure punching the German Ambassador isn't doing your job."

Love's words were like being struck with a pail of ice water. She stared at Hiyori, flabbergasted.

"She had it coming!" Hiyori defended. "That bitch thought she could just use my guards like they were her personal servants! She had them fetching her food, drinks, and little stupid-ass souvenirs from across the city!"

Lisa huffed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "We agree the ambassador was out of line, but so were you."

She had only been dealing with these people for five minutes and she already wanted to kill them all. Pressing the space between her eyebrows, she prayed for relief - or a giant bottle of painkillers.

"If it's a matter of Hiyori having struck the Ambassador, I recommend she apologize to the Ambassador personally - and properly. Considering we are also working on displaying to the other councils we are not as weak as they imagine, I suggest the Chancellor meet with her himself and remind the Ambassador that while she is a guest, our people are not here for her personal use."

Daring to look up, Rukia was met with gazes of amusement, frustration, and agreement. Hiyori ground her teeth, clearly dissatisfied with the thought of apologizing. Henry was smiling smugly, as if he'd won Employee of the Year. Rukia hated giving the pretentious cod an excuse for feeling victorious, but Hiyori should have known better. She might look like a 14-year-old, but she had fifty years on Rukia. There was no excuse for her behavior. Well, Rukia amended mentally, there was. The thought of the Ambassador abusing her position and taking advantage of their hospitality was insulting at best, but there were better ways to deal with the woman.

Their current standing with the other councils was precarious. With a successful attack on the Consulate that decimated their numbers and resulted in the death of several councilors, their reputation had suffered heavy damage. Through hard work and perseverance in destroying Aizen's remaining forces in a short amount of time, they managed to regain some approval. Maintaining an appearance of wealth by continuing to rebuild and hire new employees - both human and vampire alike - helped as well.

But appearances only went so far. Diplomatic endeavors with other councils assisted in solidifying their mending reputation. To risk them was to risk losing favor entirely. If that happened, they would have more to worry about than a few rogues.

Rukia glanced towards the Chancellor. He would agree with her, but she needed him to verbally back her up, not just sit in his ridiculously large chair looking bored.

Chancellor Shinji continued to lean back in his chair casually, resting his feet disrespectfully on the table. The chair balanced on the back legs playfully, but he wasn't smiling. He received her message loud and clear.

"I agree with Councilor Kuchiki. A diplomatic route will be best for everyone involved. Especially you, Hiyori."

Hiyori pursed her lips and looked rebellious, but she didn't argue. As much as it annoyed her, Shinji's word was law now, and as the Councilor of Security, it wouldn't do to attack the man she was sworn to protect. Rukia imagined she would probably give him the cold shoulder for a few weeks and then a nice verbal lashing a few days following - nothing out of the norm.

"Shouldn't Councilor Sarugaki be punished for her assault on the Ambassador? To do otherwise may incite the Ambassador's anger."

Several people, including Rukia, shot Henry withering glares. The bright flare of anger in his eyes indicated his true intent - to see Hiyori torn down. Why they despised one another, Rukia wasn't sure, but she was hardly in the mood to deal with their petty feud.

Hiyori snapped. "Listen, you son of a bitch-"

The sharp sound of Shinji's chair hitting the travertine tile was like a gunshot. Everyone tensed as he leveled his gaze at Henry. The boy flinched away as if he'd been slapped.

"Hiyori will apologize to the Ambassador. That is all."

It was rare to see Shinji so severe. Mockery and sarcasm were his preferred dispositions, much to the frustration of the remaining elder councilors. He often took things in stride, going at his own pace. It seemed the role of Chancellor was finally taking its toll.

"Of course, Chancellor. I meant no disrespect."

Henry couldn't sit down fast enough, his face a bright cherry red as he ducked his head and tried to hide from the others. Rukia almost felt bad for him.

"If there are no other matters that need to be discussed, we will adjourn this meeting." He stood quickly and disappeared through the doors leading to his adjoining office, effectively dismissing everyone.

The others slowly got to their feet and began filing out of the room. At nearly four in the morning, they might try to get some sleep or finish paperwork before the day truly began. Rukia sat patiently in her chair, waiting for the others to leave so she might exit with some sort of dignity.

"Councilor Kuchiki."

Kensei, Shinji's personal guard, stood beside her. Immediately she knew she wasn't going to get her shower. She gave Kensei a pleading look. He quirked a white eyebrow, immune to what she had hoped were rather convincing puppy eyes.

She almost pouted. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"I'm afraid not."

He motioned to the set of double doors stationed directly behind Shinji's chair, leading to his office. She would have dragged and shuffled her way towards the office in protest, had not every bone in her body been completely opposed to how it would appear. Decades of being with Byakuya had ingrained proper poise and posture into nearly every fiber of her being. Instead, she stuck her nose haughtily in the air and marched through the doors. Kensei had the courtesy to restrain his laughter as her shoes squelched along the way.

The Chancellor's office had floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the River Thames and the London skyline, similar to what was in the Council Chambers. The view wasn't the same as the sharp graceful mountains she was used to, but the sight was stunning in its own way - especially at this time of night. The sky still dark, the lights of the buildings glistening like stairs. Their brilliance reflected in the water, creating a wavering mirror image. Unfortunately, in the Council Chambers such a view was often hidden away behind light blocking curtains. Heaven forbid they have something pleasant to look at while they argued with one another.

The rest of his office was rather plain in comparison. As much as it annoyed Rukia to see Shinji spending money on extravagant and unnecessary upgrades to the Consulate, she appreciated that none of the funds went into his own office. The walls were white and undecorated, the floor a simple dark wood, and the furniture reminiscent of the bland tastes of 90s offices. Kaname hadn't been interested in decorating, and Shinji chose to leave it as is.

With his back to the gorgeous view, Shinji sat at his desk, staring at the large pile of paperwork with utter despair. No matter how diligent he was, which was never, there was always a large stack of files covering his desk. She couldn't remember what color it was anymore.

Shinji broke his defeated gaze from his mountains of paperwork as soon as Kensei stepped outside the office and closed the doors.

"Would you like a towel? Or perhaps a hair dryer?" Rukia narrowed her eyes. Shinji shrugged. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

"I'm assuming you had your secretary drag me up here for a better reason than settling a diplomatic tiff."

"But you're so good at glaring people into submission."

She crossed her arms.

"Right. I wanted to ask you if you thought I should hang red drapes or blue?"

"Shinji, if you don't get to the point, I'm leaving and telling Harrington you wanted to praise him on the good work he's been doing."

Shinji gawked at her. "You wouldn't dare! He'll barge right in here and talk my ear off for hours!"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Okay! Okay! Geez." He eyed her dubiously, wondering if she would be so cruel. "I wanted to ask you for a report on your investigation."

"Which one? The one I'm performing on the books or the secret one?"

Shinji leaned back in his chair. A loose spring whined. "Your Council reports are quite detailed. I'm pretty sure I know how many sugars you put in your tea last Tuesday. However, you other reports are rarely submitted with the same frequency, and often lack the same amount of detail."

That was because there wasn't much to report. Her secret investigation was running on a healthy budget, but limited resources and manpower. Specifically, it was made up of her and Ichigo alone. There wasn't a lot two of them could do, especially when they were performing two jobs.

Publically, the Council was focused on recovery. Retaliation would come after. But during that time, Aizen had free reign to do whatever he wanted. It couldn't be allowed, so Shinji established this secret effort focused on hunting the man down. Kaname had proven no one was immune to betrayal, so the number of people aware of the investigation was limited to those who had no reason to join Aizen. Who better than those who had lost the most to him?

"I can only report there has been limited activity, and the investigation has not been progressing as well I would like." She relaxed and allowed her annoyance to display on her features. "Since we've started, we've managed to identify only a few potential leads that might be working for Aizen, but without any help from the Hunters it's been difficult to detain them."

"You mean it's been difficult to take them alive."

She cringed. "They're very dedicated. When we do manage to find and capture them, they ingest some sort of poison that kills them by eating away at their insides. We've tried to search them before they consume it, but they trigger it too quickly. The best we can surmise is a packet hidden in the false tooth, and even then I'm not confident that's the case."

Shinji heaved a dramatic sigh and rubbed his face. "Why is it that, even on the run, the man continues to have control of the situation."

"He was always very good at planning and strategizing," she replied bitterly. How much thought and patience at gone into getting a hold of a single vial? His patience was one of his most dangerous weapons. It could be decades before he slipped up and gave them any opportunity to make progress. "I do have some good news, depending on how you interpret it."

"Oh?"

"You know the rogue that's been hunting here recently?"

Shinji pressed his lips into a thin line. "That little bastard has been the bane of my existence for the past few weeks." He then sat up in his chair excitedly. "Are you saying you caught him?"

"Maybe 'good news' wasn't the phrase I should have used," Rukia clarified. "He nailed Ichigo pretty good before escaping. I did get a picture of him. I have Elizabeth leaking it to London Police and other authorities in hopes that we can take advantage of their resources."

"Where exactly was this good news of yours?" Shinji wondered in a dry tone.

"I'm pretty confident he's one of Aizen's."

Shinji didn't look impressed. "That's nice."

"I thought you would be interested in that."

"I'd be more interested if you had some way of capturing him alive so we could actually interrogate him."

"True," she admitted. It wasn't exactly a great lead, but at the moment it was all they had. Since they had stomped out the remainder of Aizen's forces a few months ago, the legitimate leads they got were few and far between. It was a shame the soldiers he had left behind were mindless, eating machines incapable of stringing two words together. That was why he had left them behind. They would wreak havoc and avoid giving away his plans if they were captured. Even if the chances of them getting any real information from the rogue were slim, she didn't have any other options.

"How's Kurosaki?"

"Depends on how amiable Dr. Bell is feeling."

"You managed to get him to go with her?"

She shrugged. "She mentioned the chance of poison, and that seemed to make him pretty willing to get checked out."

"And how is he in other regards?"

Rukia hesitated. Ichigo was the youngest vampire in the entire Council. Not only that, but he had suffered a great deal in the past year: being turned, losing his family, being exiled, they were bound to have an impact on him. Add to that the struggles of a newly turned vampire usually faces and anyone would be concerned for him. She certainly was. But Ichigo was hardworking and motivated. She didn't want him to be unfairly judged.

"He's. . . coping." It was the closest she could come to protecting Ichigo without outright lying to Shinji.

"Keeping a close eye on him?" Shinji didn't miss her evasion, but she appreciated he didn't call her out on it.

"Of course. If there were any real risk I would be sure to act on it. I'm responsible for him, for his current situation."

"The boy made his choice. It's not like you turned him without permission."

It was meant to comfort her, but she didn't see the point. She could see the self-hate in Ichigo's eyes, the anger every time he allowed himself to feel like a vampire. He might never say it aloud, but she knew he regretted the decision he made.

"I should have tried harder to make him understand the consequences of the decision he was making."

"It wouldn't have helped. Kurosaki was dead set on going after Aizen, and that hasn't changed. I bet if you asked him right now if he would change his mind, he would just scoff at you."

She wasn't entirely sure that was true, but then again, Ichigo's hatred for Aizen ran as deeply as her own. "I just wish he would confide in me more. There are nights when I can tell he's distracted, thinking about home. Other nights he's at full attention. And then others-"

She clamped her mouth shut.

"Others. . . ?" Shinji enquired delicately.

Ichigo tried to hide it, but even a blind man would be able to see he struggled to suppress the beast within. Every now and then she could see the hunger clouding his vision, bloodlust looming near the surface and testing the reigns of his control. They were always quick, fleeting moments of weakness, but they were there.

It wasn't unnatural for turned vampires to struggle with their inner beasts even decades after they had awakened from the Rage. But with Ichigo's temperament, he found it frustrating and unacceptable.

On several occasions she tried to get him to talk to her about it, so she could provide him proper council, but he would either snap at her or shut her out complete. It was an aggravating habit of his. He didn't want anyone to see his inability and question his capabilities. And she couldn't give him any guarantees that it would pass.

Ichigo's transformation had been anything but normal. Using Kisuke's new transition technique, Ichigo had skipped over the natural process of the Rage. For only a few seconds, he had succumbed to his instincts and then he was fine - as if nothing had ever happened. A month's worth of progress done in an instant. It was unheard of. The side effects of this new method were unknown. What impact would there be for distorting the natural order of things? Did it make him more susceptible to the beast's influence? Did it risk his sanity? Would he suffer the Rage in a different way?

These were all questions she'd been asking herself for months, and she was no closer to an answer now than she had been then. And neither was Kisuke.

As much as she wanted to protect Ichigo from the judgment of the others, she felt it was her duty - to herself and him - to inform Shinji of the risks. Unlike Harrington, she knew he wouldn't act unless forced to.

"There are signs the beast is lurking just beneath the surface."

Shinji looked unfazed. "That's not unusual."

"I know. I'm hoping I'm being paranoid. Either way, Ichigo has a habit of holding himself to a certain standard. I'm concerned if he continues to keep to himself he'll only make things worse."

Shinji leaned further back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "I wouldn't' say he's bottling it up."

"What do you mean?"

"I've had several complaints from other employees. During sparring sessions, there have been quite a few reports of reckless behavior and injuries - mostly on the opponent's side."

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Taking it out on his sparring partners is hardly dealing with the problem."

"No, but it certainly helps Kurosaki relieve himself of built up tensions. It also puts the other employees in line and strengths both your reputations. It's quite a blow to their egos to be defeated by the youngest member of the Council, but ensures that he wasn't put his position because of his connections."

Rukia huffed in disapproval, but Shinji continued.

"My point is, although he may not be talking to you directly, he is taking care of it in his own way."

She hesitated to agree with him. "I suppose so."

"Are you concerned he's a danger to the team? To the populace?"

Ichigo's hatred for their race was strong. Vampires had taken everything from him: his father, his sisters, his entire life. The only reason he became a vampire himself was to gain the ability to fight the man at the center of it all and to be there for his sisters. The idea of feeding on people disgusted him. Even after all this time he still complained about drinking donated blood from the Harvest Chambers.

After all this time would he finally crack under the temptation and desire to drink directly from a human?

"No," she said, answering her own question out loud. "Ichigo would cut off his own arm before drinking from a human."

"Then it sounds like it shouldn't be a problem. Keep an eye on him, if you'd like, but I think with time he'll normalize just like any other newborn."

"If that's it," Rukia turned to leave, feeling the sudden need to check up on Ichigo. Shinji stopped her.

"How are your other endeavors going?"

She stood in front of the door. The last thing she wanted to talk about was that.

"I've heard there have been. . . issues."

She couldn't help but laugh and turned to see him watching her curiously. "Is that how it's being described?

"If you have a better way of interpreting frozen pipes encased in an inch of ice in the middle of summer, I'm all ears."

She winced. "An inch?"

His long lips spread into an amused grin. "It may have been two."

With a sigh, she decided it would be best to give him all the information she had on her "abilities".

"As you can tell by the state of the pipes, my attempts to master my powers have been unsuccessful at best. I have no control over them. I can't summon them when I desire, let alone determine their strength or potency. They choose to act how and when they want." She gave a sharp laugh of bitterness. "I'm pretty sure I got a bird the other day."

"Pigeons are a nuisance anyway," he waved his hand dismissively. If only she could take her failures in such stride.

"It was a crow. From several miles above me. It's in several pieces on the roof."

The corner of Shinji's nose curled slightly. "Lovely."

"Sure, if your favorite decorating style is frozen avian bits."

He groaned and slouched in his chair. "Guess I'll have to prepare a list of excuses for the other councilors. Keeping your new found abilities secret is not an easy task. Maybe I'll look into setting up an area outside the city where it might be easier to conceal your training."

It wasn't a bad idea. Every time she failed in making progress they risked her being discovered. Not many people had seen Rukia conjure a pillar of ice and freeze Kaname. Those who had were sworn to secrecy. It was their loyalty to Shinji that guaranteed he didn't silence them permanently. If word about her new found talents was to get out, there was no telling what kind of trouble it would cause. Other councils might perceive the British Council as a threat and demand either her imprisonment or execution to ensure she couldn't be used against them. Others would demand research to be performed. No one in the history of their race had such abilities. They would want to know more. And a few might try to sell her.

Shinji, thankfully had no interest in locking her up or auction her off. It would be naive to think he wasn't interested in using her powers to the Council's advantage, but he felt it would be more beneficial if Rukia did it of her own free will. Power achieved through desire was more effective than power achieved through force.

He let Rukia analyze herself, test her own limits. She was just as curious and determined to figure out this new power. Although they never said it out loud, both of them believed the answer to defeating Aizen rested with the blood of the First that now coursed through her veins. It seemed to grant unimaginable healing - perhaps it could also provide a way to circumvent them. Of course, that meant Aizen had access to similar abilities. It was a race to see who could gain control and attack first.

Rooting around in his desk drawer, Shinji pulled out a bottle of Scotch and a glass. He poured it liberally before setting it down with a heavy thud. "I'll be optimistic. Maybe I'll get back from this meeting with the other chancellors I've got coming up, and someone will have killed Aizen for us, the remaining Elders will have mysteriously croaked in their sleep, and everything will be rainbows and sunshine."

"That glass doesn't scream optimism."

"It will when I'm through with the bottle."

AN: I know things are a little slow going in the story right now. Lots of introduction / re-introduction to our characters and their situation. Things should start picking up soon.

I want thank those who favorited and followed the story, and a guest who left an amazing review after finishing up For Blood. I'm glad you enjoyed the story and are looking forward to more!

Thanks again to everyone for reading! Happy belated Christmas and have a great New Year!