The bass pounded in his head and heart; the black lights above made his clothes glow an eerie purple; the music blaring from the ceiling made his ears ache. A young woman plopped down on the couch next to him, a delirious giggle escaping her mouth.

"Are you a Giver or a Taker?" she asked loudly so as to be heard.

"Depends," he responded with a wary grin. "Are you alive?"

"Of course I am," she hollered, exaggeratedly grasping his shoulder with one manicured hand. "I just Gave a little just now."

He laughed. "Are you sure you can spare more?"

"Oh yeah." She fell against his shoulder. "I got plenty."

He inhaled the intoxicating scent wafting from her throat. "If you insist," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her chest. She laughed softly and leaned into him, the sweet pain blossoming from her throat and sending fire throughout her veins.

---

Late that night, Zell collapsed back onto his Garden-issue bed, hair still dripping wet from his shower. He shivered as the overhead fan blew a gust of cold air down on him, but at least the woman's scent was no longer on him.

---

Squall hated mornings. He hated waking up to a Garden full of people depending on him. He held their lives in his hands and he hated it.

He pulled the blankets up over his head and snorted into the pillow when he heard someone pounding on his door. He didn't want to deal with anyone before he was awake. Nor after.

"Hey, Squall," called Irvine. "I know you're up – you couldn't sleep in if you tried."

"Go away," Squall cried, pulling his pillow over his head.

"Fine," Irvine said nonchalantly as he turned away. "Don't hear what I have to say about Zell." He was about to leave when he heard the door open and he glanced over to see Squall standing there in just the boxers he'd worn to sleep.

"What is it?" Squall ground out as Irvine grinned. That was another thing he hated – how Irvine had somehow managed to figure out about his crush on Zell.

Irvine's smirk only served to strengthen Squall's glare. "Oh, but if you're not interested…"

A low growl from the Lion was Irvine's warning and he quickly spouted off, "Look – he's just been spending a lot of time in the library for these past couple'a weeks. Just thought you'd want a bit of warning in case that girl in there decided to make a move on him, or something."

Squall stared at Irvine for a moment longer. The cowboy raised his eyebrows curiously, but jumped when the door was suddenly slammed in his face. He grinned and turned away, finally leaving for his room. He'd actually woken up early to tell this to Squall – he had better be appreciative.

The Lion himself walked back to his bed and sat down heavily on it. He pressed a hand to his forehead and reached out with the other, brushing away junk from in front of his CD player to turn it on. The opening chords of guitar and drum urged him to dress himself as the words began.

I'll make a soldier's decision to fly away
Load my gun, paint my face, call me misery
I can see the sky light up and the ground explode
Got my sights locked in, I can see you breathe
Then I watched you fall and somebody scream
Its the saddest thing when angels fly away

He let the music play on even as he left his room, heading down determinedly to the library.

---

Zell leaned against the librarian's desk, staring down the girl behind it. She merely quirked and eyebrow and stared back.

"What are you doing here?" Zell finally asked.

"Working," she responded. "What does it look like?"

"Looks like absolutely nothing, to me," he responded.

The librarian just smirked and looked down at the manga in her lap. "Slow day."

"'Slow day' my ass. What happened to the Club?" Zell reached down and snatched the comic book out of her lap. "Hellsing. I should have guessed."

"You know I don't work while the sun is out." She snatched the book back. "No one's ever there before sundown."

"Sure," Zell responded with a roll of his eyes. He would have said more, when there came a soft buzz from under the desk. "What was that?"

The librarian put her manga away and sat up straighter, looking like she was actually looking. "I had a door alarm installed," she whispered. "Keeps people from seeing me slack off."

"You installed a –"

"Good morning, Commander," the girl chirped, ignoring Zell.

The blonde turned around quickly, seeing Squall standing in the doorway, eyes set in a glare. His eyes flicked between Zell and the girl and he frowned.

"… You're new," he stared finally.

"Yessir," the girl affirmed cheerily. "I'm Angel Yamino, from Balamb. I just got accepted two weeks ago."

Squall continued to frown. "I remember your application. You want to fight with…"

Angel blushed. "Ah… A bow – yes. A bit out of style, but… I simply love archery."

Squall nodded stiffly. He allowed his eyes to linger on Zell for a moment before he turned around and left.

"Damn," Angel muttered, picking up her manga and flipping it open. "Is he always that creepy? He looked like he wanted to take my head off."

Zell pushed off the desk. "He's usually like that. I'll see you in a couple of days then."

"Where are you off to?"

"Training Center. I'll probably be there until lunch."

Angel sighed dreamily. "Ah, lunch. I can't wait… I guess I'll see you later, Zell."

Zell waved over his shoulder as he left the library. "Bye Ange'."

Angel watched as he left, reaching up to tap the computer screen in front of her. Slowly the monitor flickered to life and she growled at the sight of the news site before her.

Murder In Balamb

Late last night, at the club SylverBulit in downtown Balamb, two men and one woman, ages seventeen, eighteen and seventeen respectively, were found dead. The men were found mauled to death and the woman was found drained of blood. Balamb police are currently investigating and no suspects have been discovered…

She cursed and angrily closed the window.

"I will get whoever desecrated my Club," she snarled, clenching her fists. "I swear before Athena, I will make them pay…"

---

I only own Angel and the club SylverBulit. The lyrics are from "When Angel's Fly Away" by Cold. Everyone/thing else belongs to other people.