Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing. Except in my dreams... sigh. Also, I am fully aware of all events that take place in the Manga and the anime. This story was written on a whim as amusement to myself. Plz don't be mad the inconsistencies

SERVANT OF MY MASTER

Taking a long drag from her cigar, Integra Hellsing eyed the engraved note on her desk again. Its white surface stood out in start contrast to the darkness of the room, golden letters shining in the little moonlight that found its way into the office through the thick curtains. She sighed, leaned forward, and let some ashes fall into an ashtray.

"Is this what I think it is, Walter?"

The old butler nodded, amusement curling the corner of his lips. "I'm afraid so, my lady."

"And I suppose there is no way to thank the Queen for her thought and pass the note along?"

"Madam," Walter said, with gentle firmness that one would sometimes use to explain complex matters to a child, "it is the first anniversary of the war. One year since the fall of the Letzte Bataillon. Her Majesty wishes to celebrate in honor of the heroes who made it possible."

Integra sneered. "I fought no battles. The ones who 'made it possible', as you say, are those who entered the fray. It is in your honor, Angel of Death, not mine."

"My lady flatters me." The butler bowed low, a movement that would challenge most his age, but for the Angel of Death, who aged seventy-odd, looked fifty, and acted not a day over thirty-five, it did warrant a second thought. "But need I remind you, that the risk, the reasonability, and the courage behind the triumph came from you, the leader of this organization. And it is with that, that the country, nay, the world, rallies in your honor today."

"Do not play with words, butler."

"My apologies," Walter said, but the glimmer in his eyes remained as he knew he had won.

Integra turned the card over in her hand, the cigar between her teeth as she gave the butler a look of distain. "You think I should attend," she said.

"Oh, no, madam. Not only attend. Attend and bring guests, as the invitation states."

Integra scanned the note. "Ah yes. Her Majesty does remember all the contributors of the war. Very well, then." She put out the cigar, jamming it down a bit too hard, causing ashes, still half-lit, to fly about the desk. "You and Alucard will be accompanying me, as well as Seras, and that mercenary commander, if he can clean up his act in time."

Walter raised one eyebrow. "And?"

She dropped the invitation on the desk and crossed her arms as if challenging the older man. "And what?"

"Forgive me, my lady. But in a traditional ballroom setting, as is what I assume this occasion will be, a young woman ought to have a proper escort."

"That will be your job."

Walter shook his head. "No, madam," he said, "I am but an old man, unfit to be seen with a lady such as you." His smile was half-hidden in shadows. "I was talking about your humble servant, the vampire."

Integra glared. "Don't be ridiculous."

Walter tilted his head ever so slightly. "Oh?" he said. "And what makes you say that? He is the perfect escort, not only in the Queen's favor, but, unlike the remaining candidates, also in yours. Would you prefer to show up at her Majesty's steps on the arm of Enrico Maxwell?"

The leader of Hellsing narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"It is my duty to find you the proper escort, my lady."

"Tell me, Walter, do you find pleasure in irritating me?"

"Only within good reason," the butler replied. With a quick movement, he turned before Integra could see the smugness on his face. "I will got inform Seras and Pip. I'm sure she will get a kick out of been escorted by him."

Integra waited for Walter's footsteps to fade down the hall before leaning back with another cigar. She pulled a box of matches out of the desk's top drawer and struck it, the small flame lit up the flame-red coat of the figure behind her.

"You were listening," she said matter-of-factly.

"As per usual." Soundlessly, the vampire moved around the chair and half-sat on her desk, facing her. With one gloved hand, he lifted the invitation card and scanned it. "You sounded terribly thrilled, master."

"Spare the sarcasm," Integra snapped. "The ball is in three days. That's ample time to prepare yourself and Seras. Instruct her well in the ways of the upper class. We don't want the Draculina spilling champagne all over her dress. Or worse, someone else's."

Alucard chuckled at the thought. "Of course," he said. "But you see, master, I would much prefer to have Walter attend to this matter. No, in fact, the police girl can fend for herself just fine. After seeing her performance in battle, I have no more doubt in her."

"Are you trying to say something?"

"Only that I will not be attending."

Integra's hand stopped in midair, the cigar halfway to her lips. "Excuse me?"

"Stuffed-shirt gatherings aren't for me, master. I left those behind roughly four hundred years ago."

His master chortled and brought the cigar to her mouth. "Pretend all you like that you have a choice, Alucard," she said, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "If I must suffer this night then so must you. After all, it is also in the honor of the vampire that played the trump card in bringing the war to an end."

"Much as I relish seeing you in an evening dress, master," Alucard said, rising from his position against the desk. "I do believe there is no physical way that you can force me to go. Unless you feel like ordering me." Red eyes fell on her, glowing in the darkness like fireflies. "Will you stoop to ordering me to be your date, Integra?"

Integra puffed on her cigar again, but he could see that she was clenching her teeth. He was irritating her. "You must think an awful lot of yourself," she said, her voice low.

"Only around humans."

"You're coming."

"I could understand, master, if you wanted it as a personal favor, seeing how the ball will be falling on yo…"

"Get out."

"Master?"

She threw the cigar at him. It struck the front of his coat and left ashes that he was too busy sneering to brush away. "Get out, you git!" She shouted, and started to rise, but he was already vanishing into the air, his smile been the last to go, like the Cheshire Cat.

Falling heavily back into her seat, Integra rubbed her temples.

Walter stood in the vast hall, hands in his pockets, humming a nonchalant tune and shifting from one foot to the other. He pretended not to notice the vampire until he was within an arm's length.

"Alucard!" he said with mock surprise. "You shouldn't sneak up on an old man like that."

"Humorous," the vampire replied. "That was very funny, Walter, telling Integra to take me as an escort."

"Wasn't?" Walter chuckled. "Yes, I'm quite proud of it myself."

"Do you find pleasure in irritating me?"

"You know, she said the exact same thing," the butler mused before turning a serious note. "I was trying to help, you know."

"Doing a poor job, I must say."

Walter stared at the vampire momentarily, then sighed in exasperation. "You got to her, didn't you?"

"It was too easy."

"And she threw you out. Again."

"Look, butler," Alucard said warningly, "when I told you, it was in confident. I figured fifty-five years of comradery was worth it."

"Fifty-six."

"Either way."

"Honestly, Alucard," the old butler said earnestly, "did you really expect me to just stand by and watch?"

"It doesn't matter. There is no way it will happen in something like this. I will not subject myself to such indignation."

Walter rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Fine. I'm sure Integra will have no problem finding herself an escort. She is an attractive young woman, after all. Even if she doesn't, I'm sure the men at the ball wouldn't leave her standing for a single dance."

Alucard snorted.

"She will make an excellent pair, I'm sure," Walter said with a wink. "With that Enrico Maxwell. Quite a gentleman."

"You're bluffing. She would never allow herself to be in the company of that Vatican swine."

"That won't stop him from trying, Alucard. You've seen him look at her… haven't you?"

"No," Alucard said firmly and pushed past the butler. "You won't win this one. There is no way that I'm going to degrade myself in such a situation."

Walter sniggered to himself as the vampire stormed down the hall. "Actually," he muttered, "I've already won twice today."

Sera Victoria sat dejectedly in front of the dresser in the guest room that Walter had led her to get ready in. Pip had already "accidentally" stumbled in twice, muttering something about bathrooms while eyeing her slyly, until she finally threw a hairbrush in his face and locked the door. The thought of been escorted by him made her taste bile.

Looking through the gowns that her master had brought her, she found most of them ill-fitting. She was a small woman with big curves and large, innocent eyes. Been a police girl had been the part of her life that she had always treasured most, and the uniform was something she could not do without. Now, looking at these fancy, delicate dresses, Seras felt as if she had landed in an alternate reality.

Finally, after many hours of struggling and wrestling with the various fabrics, she found an old black cocktail dress of Integra's that fit with fair decency. The top and waist were just a bit snug, as Integra was taller and slimmer, but at least it didn't drag on the floor like most of the others did, and bared just enough skin to be almost sexy.

There was a knock on the door.

Reflexively, she reached for the hairbrush. "Go away, Pip!"

"It's Walter, Seras," came the reply from behind the door. "I sent the mercenary commander to Sir Integra for a tongue-lashing. God knows she needs it."

Sighing in relief, Sera unlocked the door. "Don't you mean he needs it?"

Walter shrugged. "I suppose he does, too." He looked Seras up and down. "Not bad. Are you ready to fix your makeup?"

"Must I?"

"Dear, dear," Walter said, guiding her down onto the stool in front of the mirror again and placed a makeup box in front of her. "It's the Queen's ball. You want to look presentable, don't you?"

Seras looked into the mirror. No amount of makeup was going to cover those red eyes. She sat stiffly as Walter cleaned off her dress with a lint brush. "Is master really not going?"

"He claims he doesn't want to."

"Even if Lady Integra is? Doesn't he want to be… near her?"

Walter stopped and straightened up. "Now where did you…"

"I wasn't spying," Seras said quickly, turning to face him. "Or at least, I didn't mean to. I can hear him sometimes… in my head. When he's thinking about something and not taking care to protect it, I hear it. Besides," she blushed slightly, "I'm a woman after all. It's not hard to see what a man is thinking."

Laughing, Walter patted the young vampire's shoulder. "So intuitive, Seras," he said. "Does that mean that you also know…"

"That the ball falls on Lady Integra's birthday? Yes. Why doesn't she want anyone to know?"

Seeing the hairbrush still in her hand, Walter took it gently and began to brush her hair. "Unlike most women, Integra hides her age because, well," he paused, "she considers it an advantage that most people do not know how young she actually is."

"Does anyone else know her birthday?"

"Just your master and I, and now you I suppose. It has been forgotten over the years. She is twenty-five today. But she acts so much older it's almost frightening sometimes. It's like this organization has drained all the youth out of her."

Seras nodded. "Master really don't be there? Doesn't he want to? For her?"

Walter grinned in the shadows. "We shall see," he said. "Now put the make up on and go upstairs. Integra would want to approve of you before we leave. I should get ready, too."

As the door closed behind him, Seras began to apply powder and blush to her face. The smell of the cosmetics irritated her nose and she sneezed, feeling slightly annoyed. Nothing good could come out of this night save for perhaps one thing, a little risk.

Looking around to make sure her master wasn't spying, she nudged at the pile that her uniform had formed on the floor with her foot. A brightly wrapped package peeked out from beneath, topped with a bow tied with thin, pink ribbon. Eyeing it and feeling quite satisfied with herself, Seras went back to the makeup, a small pool of excitement welling up within.

The door opened with a slam. Pip stumbled inside. He was dressed in what appeared to be some derivative of what once was an expensive tux. Without a tie but amazingly still wearing his eye patch, he looked around the room.

"This the crapper?" He shouted, and landed his eye on her. "Damn, you look hot, Draculina."

This time she threw the stool.

Integra hardly ever turned on the lights, preferring instead to move in the darkness. Had she not known better, Seras would've wondered whether Lady Integra was a vampire herself. In fact, on several occasions, she was quite sure she saw the Lady's fangs showing, especially when giving orders to her master. But nowadays darkness hardly bothered her, or at least that was the thought on her mind as she knocked on Integra's door.

"Yes?"

"It's Seras, ma'am," she said hastily.

"Come in," came the simple reply.

It wasn't until she had closed the door behind her did she realize that it was the first time she had ever entered Integra's bedroom. It was never forbidden but there had been no reason to before. She wondered if master had ever been inside.

A single lamp sitting upon a dark wooden dresser lit the room. She fished for Integra in the dim light, the gift in one hand, and started as the figure in front of the dresser turned slowly.

It was not the Integra she knew, at least not before this moment. Blond hair piled on top of her head Renaissance-style, the Lady was drawing close the zipper on a backless white dress, possibly silk from the texture. It fell over her body like a milky river, cut just low enough in front to show the top of her high, natural breasts. The skin exposed on her back and arm were like cream, smooth and tempting, with a single golden bracelet on one wrist. Instead of glasses, she seemed to have opted for contacts for the night, displaying her blue eyes to the world.

Though instinct told her not to stare, Seras couldn't help it. Underneath the bulky suits, the commanding voice, and even the iron fist with which she ruled the most powerful vampire-hunting organization in history, Integra was beautiful.

"Seras."

She shook herself quickly and concealed the package in her hand behind her back. "Yes, sir."

"I take it you finally found a dress of mine that fits."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Integra turned back to the dresser, searching for more hairpins. "It was too bad we didn't have time to have something decent made for you, but don't worry, this will not happen often. You'll be back in your uniform fighting ghouls in no time."

The package suddenly felt heavy in her hand. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you won't convince master to come?"

Finding a pin at last, Integra stuck it into her hair with some difficulty, wincing slightly. "That dim-witted master of yours rather enjoys irritating me," she said. "He can do what he damn well pleases. As far as I am concerned, there is only one vampire in Hellsing tonight."

Seras took a second to realize that Integra was referring to her. "But, sir… it's…"

"It's what?"

She bit her cheek. "It's… uh, important that you have an escort."

Integra sighed as her hands fell to her sides, the hairpin finally in place. Opening on of the drawers, she removed a box of what appeared to be cigars. "Let me tell you something, Sera Victoria," she said, lighting it. "The problem with people is that they adhere to rules far too much. The rules of science, the rules of society, keeping up appearances, and so on. And what are we in the end? Just another bunch of jerks fighting to climb to the top of the food chain. We are born, we die, and we fight to live in between."

She puffed on the cigar. "In other words," she continued. "If anyone has anything to say about me showing up alone, they can suck it."

Seras lowered her eyes nervously. "Speaking of being born," she said softly, fiddling the package behind her back. "I, uh… happ…"

"Where's your escort?"

She looked up, startled. "Sir?"

"Your escort, that lowlife mercenary, where is he? We're going to be late. However fitting it is to 'make an entrance', I rather be spared of any unnecessary attention. Has Walter stuffed him into a proper getup yet? Or does he need more forceful persuasions?"

Seras blinked. "I don't know, I…"

Integra threw something into her arms. She looked down to see a soft black purse. "It matches the dress. Now come, let's go."

Uncertain of how to pick up where she had left off, Seras stuffed the package into the purse hastily and hurried after Integra, only to bump into the Lady's back at the door.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, squeezing past her, and paused when she saw what had made Integra stop.

Her master was leaning against the wall opposite the Lady's room, one leg propped against the wall, hands in his pockets. Instead of his usual red, he was clothed in black from head to toe, finished off with shiny leather boots and a large cloak. The only thing that stood out from the sea of black was a red tie, gleaming like a spot of blood upon his chest. Seeing them, he looked up and smiled.

Integra crossed her arms and chewed on her cigar. "Changed your mind?" she said coldly.

Alucard shrugged. He wasn't wearing his glasses, nor his hat. In fact, save for the blood-colored eyes, he looked every bit like any gentleman on a Sunday evening outing. Seras suppressed a giggle at the waves embarrassment radiating from him.

"Perhaps," he said, "I merely felt that there are no others more fitting for escorting my master than her servant."

Amused, Integra removed the cigar from her mouth. "Very well," she said. "Seeing how we are late already, I shall forgo berating you for the irritation you caused me before. But remember your place, Alucard. Though you are in her favor, you are to be on your best behavior before the Queen; do not let me catch you in a fray with the Paladin; and you are to walk behind me when we enter the main hall. Do not show your fangs to paranoid bystanders."

Alucard bowed. "Yes, my master," he said humbly. "And if I may, Lady Integra, you look ravishing tonight."

Integra blew smoke into the air. "Don't get used to it."

The grand hall of the Queen's palace turned to a rather harsh silence upon the announcement of "Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing" and "Lord Alucard". The loudness of staring eyes caused the entrance of Walter, Seras, and Pip to be almost completely ignored. Some were merely curious, and others vicious with jealousy, hatred, and distain.

Still others, such as the sleek-blond Vatican agent who stood by the bar, drink in hand, marveled at how such a beautiful young woman came to have such a commanding presence in history.

Integra met no one's eyes as the sound of Alucard's boots followed her to the throne of the Queen. Lifting the hem of the dress, she curtseyed to her Majesty like a good woman should, and was welcomed warmly.

"Integra," the Queen said gently. "Really now, is that what you truly wish to do?"

Smiling, Integra straightened. Then, in an almost militantly formal movement, she bent one knee like a man been knighted and knelt before the queen. A hush murmur of surprise and disapproval drifted through the crowd as she rose.

"Is it an honor to be in your presence tonight, your majesty."

"The honor is all mine, dear knight, and may God's blessings be with you," replied the Queen, her eyes shifting to the vampire.

"Welcome, Alucard." Stepping forward, Alucard took the same pose as Integra had a moment ago before the Queen, and allowed her caress upon his face. "Another war has come and gone, Alucard, and yet, you never seem to age with the experience."

"It is both a bliss and a curse, your majesty."

The old woman's eyes flickered to Integra's retreating back briefly. She leaned close to the vampire. "Dance with her."

He looked up at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"The war is over. This celebration is both your and hers, Alucard. Dance with her."

Seras was eyeing the room miserably.

Upon her first entry, she had found herself becoming slightly excited by the prospects of the evening. After all, there was something to be said about the opportunity to dress up and be a member of the upper-class, especially for a country police girl like herself. Dazzled by the sounds and colors, she fantasized about real conversations, exotic music, and perhaps sharing a dance or two with some classy young officers.

After bowing to the Queen, the evening went downhill.

Most of the guests, though knowing her heroics from her war, were apprehensive to approach her. The decorated women at the ball spoke to her like a child, mostly along the lines of "are you really a vampire?" and "what's it like to drink blood?" No one seemed to be willing to treat her as a member of the norm, the music was bland and dull for her taste, and the attention from the young officers were not the most flattering. They observed her from the distance, admiring lustfully her round breasts and curvy legs, but winced at her red eyes, and drew even further away at her fanged smile.

Pip, stalking the servers, asking whether the olives in the drinks were imported, was no help at all.

If it weren't for Walter, the evening would have been a complete failure. In spite of his age, the butler seemed to be quite popular with the ladies. Every now and then he would break away from his admirers to share a dance with her, and she had to admit he was quite good as he led her across the floor. But after he was roped into a length discussion by two aging colonels, Seras was left to hover about the drink bar, keeping an equally bored Integra company.

The man with sleek blond hair approached them at last, smiling too broadly. Feeling uneasy, Seras scanned the room desperately for her master, only to spot him still at the Queen's side. She swallowed heavily as the man stopped before she and Integra and extended one hand to her.

"Miss Victoria," he said with dripping sweetness, "how nice to see you. It was quite a spectacle witnessing your heroics during the war."

She allowed his oily kiss on her hand. "Th-thank you, Father Maxwell."

"And Lady Integra," Maxwell said, dropping her hand in such a way that told her that was the extent of his intentions toward her. "Dazzling as usual."

As if in deliberate defiance, Integra crossed her arms. "Good evening, Maxwell."

The priest smiled toothily. "It seems a crime for such a lovely lady to be off the dance floor. Could I..."

"Certainly," Integra interrupted. Seras stared at her in shock. "Seras, dance with him."

Shocked, Seras made no move as a thread of anger crept across Maxwell's brow. He eyed the young vampire in disgust. "I think you misunderstand me, Miss Integra," he said calmly. "I meant..."

"She's waiting," Integra said, interrupting him once again. "Did you not want to reward her heroics? She has not had a decent dance in a long time."

Though the grin did not leave Maxwell's face, Seras could see it was taking quite some effort to keep it there. The priest was at a loss for words for a moment, but as a server passed him with a tray of filled wine glasses, his eyes sparks.

"Tell you what, Miss Integra, Miss Seras," he said, snatching a glass from the tray, "I shall toast your victory. I do believe everyone in this room deserves the chance to celebrate the occasion."

Before Integra could object, Maxwell raised his voice along with the glass. "I'd like to propose a toast," he called over the noises of the party, which died down quickly. "To the heroes of the great war against the Last Battalion. To Hellsing!"

Wine glasses raised all about the room. Color crept onto Integra's face as many voices boomed, "To Hellsing!"

"And now," Maxwell said loudly, keeping all attention on them. Seras fought the urge to squirm. "Perhaps the lady of the hour would honor her comrade with a celebratory dance." He extended a hand to Integra once again, this time under the hundreds of watchful eyes.

For a moment she was certain Integra would strike the bold leader of the Iscariot. A second passed as Maxwell continued to smile, waiting for the Lady to make the mistake of appearing rude and unpolished before the Queen's guests.

"You are absolutely right, Father."

A tremor through the crowd. Seras felt it clear as day as her master appeared almost magically behind Maxwell. The corner of the priest's lips twitched once at the sound of the vampire's voice, and again as Alucard stepped past him, conveniently pushing him aside in the process.

"Master," he said politely, "your servant and comrade would gladly join you in this dance." He raised one hand. "May I?'

A sneer appeared slowly on Integra's face, low and thin, just enough to be seen by Seras and Maxwell. The priest was grinding his teeth; Seras could almost hear it. He still had one hand half-extended, but the other was clenched in a tight fist. She wondered whether his knuckles were turning white.

Integra had placed one delicate hand onto Alucard's. "Yes, servant," she said, one smug blue eye on Maxwell, "you may."

Swift as the music, Alucard swept Integra onto the dance floor. As Seras watched, she was almost certain that their feet did not touch the ground. The band played a gentle waltz and they floated upon the notes, turning in the air like leaves in the wind. He was watching her, Seras saw, but she did not lock his gaze. All the eyes in the room, curious and stunned, watched the performance on the floor.

He may be a demon, but he danced like an angel.

She heard the priest utter some very un-priest-like things under his breath and had to suppress a giggle. Across the room, she spotted Walter, who broke his gaze away from the couple to wink at her. Feeling her spirits lifted, she squeezed her purse, feeling the hardness of the package inside, and smiled back.

"Yo, Sera-sh!" She grimaced as an arm slung itself over her shoulders drunkenly. Pip leaned close to her, somehow managing to make the expensive wine on his breath smell cheap. "Wanna dance, Sera-sh?"

With a single finger, Seras pushed him off. Every now and then he gave her a reason to be grateful for her superhuman strength. "No, Pip."

"Aw, come on!" Pip peeked over toward the dance floor. "They're dancing. Pretty bloody good for a vampire, too." He paused, then burst out laughing. "Bloody good for a vampire! Ha!"

A few people nearby turned toward the commotion. Face heating up, Seras seized Pip's long braid and pulled him away from the crowds. He followed, chattering all the way, seeming not to notice he was been pulled. Annoyed, she clapped one hand over his mouth and shoved him against a side wall.

"Now keep it down, you!" she snapped. Pip responded with drunken giggles and a nod. She left him leaning against the wall and turned her attention back to her master and Lady Integra. They were still dancing. The few couples that had been on the floor before have stopped and stepped aside to watch them. Integra's gown trailed behind her, coupling Alucard's bellowing cloak. They were a sight to behold, a swirl of midnight black and silky white.

Master, Seras thought dreamily, some good can come out of nights like this.

"Know what they need?"

She kept watching.

"Hey, Sera-sh! You know what they need?" With a start, she saw that Pip was no longer at his side. Instead, he was hopping clumsily, like a rabbit with a lame leg, toward a certain spot on the wall. "Some dance-to lights!"

"Pip! No!"

She dove. The moment their bodies met the room sunk into darkness. The band stopped playing as voices murmured in confusion. She was certain she heard a few guards cock their weapons in alarm and knew that Pip was very lucky indeed that he was too drunk to notice her blood-red eyes glaring at him in the dark.

"I'm sorry!" She called to the darkness, and rose to her feet, spotting the light switch before panic could break out. "Don't worry, I got it!" Giving Pip, who was lying on his back giggling hysterically, a swift kick in the ribs, she flicked it on, looked up, and froze.

The band had started to play again, but soon stopped awkwardly as the room fell into a thick silence. Someone dropped a wine glass, it shattered and no one made a move to clean it up. Every face in the room was a mask of shock and confusion, save for one old butler, who grinned to himself in the corner.

The twist of black and white in the center of the room had become still. Neither moved. One arm holding Integra, pressing her body against his, Alucard was caressing the Lady's face with his free man, or rather holding her head in place. His smoky black locks concealed both their expressions.

Few who have lived on this earth knew that such a "monster" was capable of such a human kiss.

She couldn't see, and when her eyes adjusted to the light once more, they were no longer moving. His lips were against hers, surprisingly gentle. She thought she felt one of his fangs brush against her lip at once point. For a moment she was immobilized by shock, as were the rest of the room. She closed, her eyes, then opened them, and realized that his arm was wrapped tightly around her body. Only his glove separated her cheek and the skin of his hand, which was wandering down her neck, gliding over her bare back.

Most women in this situation would slap the offender, or blush heavily and run from the room. Integra did neither. Instead, she tightened the muscles in her arms.

Her first struck his face in a full blow. Alucard staggered back a few steps and kept his head down. But a faint smile stayed on his face, which angered her even further. A few high-class ladies gasped.

"You're, out of line, servant!" Her meticulous hairdo had fallen to one side. Frustrated, she inserted one hand into it and pulled, sending hairpins flying all about the dance floor. She glared at the vampire as her blond hair fell to its natural length. "Remove yourself from my presence," she ordered coldly. "I will deal with you later."

Slowly, Alucard raised one hand to touch the spot where her fist had landed. It was slightly red and swollen. Under tense gazes, he turned to her and gave an a militant bow.

"Yes," he said quietly, "my master."

The breaths of relief were audible as the vampire disappeared from the room. Under the Queen's hurried instructions, the band resumed playing as Integra left the dance floor to the other couples. A hold on her shoulder stopped her.

"Perhaps you'd favor me with that dance now?" asked a smug voice.

"If you wish to keep that hand, Maxwell, I suggest you remove it before finding out that vampires aren't the only ones that bite."

Seras found Integra alone in the powder room, smoking a cigar and once again wearing her glasses. With her hair tousled and loose, and the cigar back in her hand, she looked once again like the "Sir Hellsing" she knew so well.

"Miss Integra?"

The Lady blew smoke into the air. "Seras, good," she said nonchalantly, watching the young vampire in the mirror. "You can tell that master of yours that he can expect another fifty years locked up in the dungeons."

"But..." Seras started, but feared the consequences of finishing.

"What? Are you here to make excuses for his insolence?"

Working up her nerves, Seras forced herself to press on. "Master... he cares for you."

Integra let out a dry laugh. "Is that so?" she said. "Is that what you believe?" She turned around and studied the police girl. "Did he tell you that?"

"No. I... heard."

"Let me tell you something about your master, Seras. At the least, he is five hundred years old. Do you suppose he entertained himself through all those centuries playing checkers?"

Seras shook her head, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"He's traveled all over the world, bedded women as he pleased, humans and vampires alike. And now," she puffed the cigar, "he has been deprived for quite some time. He cannot control his urges. For his loose hold of it before the Queen and the officers of war is an embarrassment to Hellsing itself."

"That's not true!"

Integra looked at her. "What?"

"Master... he didn't loose control of his urges," Seras took a desperate step forward. "I could feel him, his feelings when he... He wanted to, Miss Integra. He wanted to be near you. To kiss you."

Integra narrowed her eyes. "Really," she said flatly.

Seras fidgeted uncomfortably. "Please talk to him."

"How naive you are, Seras Victoria."

"I beg your pardon?"

Letting some ashes fall into the sink, Integra puffed on the cigar again, as if in thought. "How should I explain this to you? Your master is a weapon, as are you. Do you understand that?" Uncertain of what to say, Seras nodded. "And the reason that you are weapons is because you are strong, unhampered by the weaknesses of humans. Alucard especially. He often told me that he will load the gun, throw back the hammer, and kill without regret, but the will behind it is mine. And for that reason, I bear the risks and pain behind each kill. He himself feels nothing."

"But..." Seras began.

"If he were to, however," Integra continued, ignoring her, "he would no longer be as strong as he could be. Emotions delay the hand. They will only weaken the weapon, rust its joints. If he were to truly care for me, as you imply, then there is all the more reason to punish him, drive the urges from him before it decays his abilities." She put out the cigar. "Killers do not love, Seras, and lovers do not kill."

Shocked, Seras could simple stand in her place and stare blurry-eyed. "No," she finally said, "this has nothing to do with he and you."

"It has everything to do with 'he and I', as you put it. It is for the good of the organization."

"That you should deny him? And yourself?"

Integra raised one eyebrow. "My, aren't we persistent today."

Seras withdrew slightly, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm sorry."

"Survival of the fittest, Seras." Integra sighed. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a few moments, at least until that bunch out there has properly prepared itself not to ask questions." She paused. "God damn that Maxwell."

With all of her courage, Seras reached into her purse and brought out the package. She handed it to Integra at arm's length.

"What's this?"

"They're cigars," Seras mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "I didn't know what else to get, and I don't even know if it's the right kind. I just... happy birthday."

Staring at the package, Integra blinked in surprise as emotions played on her face. Finally, she took it awkwardly in both hands. "Thank you," she said softly.

"May I ask you a question, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"When did you lost faith in that which you have sworn to protect?"

Alucard leaned against the railings of the balcony, letting his eyes wonder about the brightly lit city and the cloudy skies. There had been some guards milling about the palace, but they all stepped aside cautiously when he approached and left him alone to do as he pleased. He rather enjoyed night air.

A lone figure stepped out onto the balcony and stood a few feet from him, also gazing toward the horizon. Alucard chuckled.

"So you found me."

"I know you too well," Walter said. "Word of advice?"

"Shoot."

"It is very difficult for a vampire to hide his tears."

Alucard laughed dryly, his gloves stained with spots of red from when he had wiped his eyes a moment ago. Walter cleared his throat.

"Quite a show you put on in there," he said. "But I suppose this is my fault, too. I should have listened when you said no."

Alucard waved his comment away. "Don't trouble yourself, old man," he said. "Integra is a difficult woman. I was carried away. Assuming there is a next time, I will be more careful."

Walter looked over at the vampire. "You haven't given up."

"You think I ought to?"

"No," Walter said quickly, "no. There is no one more fit for her than you. She is difficult, but that is what makes her special. You and I are among the few that recognize that fact. And you are the one who loves her for it."

"Human emotions. After so many years, who would have thought?"

"Becoming a vampire does not make you above human emotions, Alucard."

"Would make things simpler."

"Is that so?" Walter gazed at his companion steadily. "Then let's suppose that you could dispense of it. All of itthe emotions the pain, the uncertainties, every bit. It would make you stronger, the ultimate killing machine, correct?" Alucard shrugged. "And all you had to do is forget how you feel now, about Integra. Would you take it?"

"No." Alucard shook his head. "I've been through pain and uncertainties. But to forget how that one moment felt... I cannot. Not even the No-Life King."

"Sure you don't want to sleep on it?"

The two turned in unison as Integra emerged from the shadows. Walter bowed smoothly. "Good evening, m'lady," he said as Alucard remained silent. "Have you come to escape the noises of the festivities?"

"For the moment," replied Integra, keeping her eyes on the vampire. "If you don't mind, Walter, I'd like to speak with my servant."

Walter straightened. "Of course."

Neither of the spoke until the butler was out of earshot. Once alone, Integra approached Alucard, and mimicked his position against the railings.

Alucard smiled faintly. "I suppose you wish to discuss my punishment, master."

"Eventually, yes," Integra said, "but for now I only have a question: what was it that you hoped to accomplish tonight?"

"Accomplish? Nothing, master." He watched her carefully. Her hair was down again, the way he liked it most. He thought he could catch the scent of her skin in the air. "I was merely lost in the moment and in every way deserve my punishment."

"The punishment for lying is much harsher, Alucard."

He waited, then chuckled, then began to laugh, a sad, almost cruel sound that echoed into the night.

"Care to share the joke?"

He took a step closer, and leaned down to her level. "Did I ever tell you that I think you're a little girl, Integra?"

"Many times."

"I lied. Punish me for it."

"Do you find this funny, vampire?"

"I do," Alucard said, "God help me, I do. I'm so old, Integra. Do you like older men?"

"That is no business of yours."

"I've seen too many things and they haunt me in my dreams. I dream. Do you believe that?"

"I believe you are wasting your time playing games with me." Integra crossed her arms. A pity, he was rather enjoying the rare chance to see the bulging shapes of her breasts. "Now unless you have something worthwhile to say, I shall be off to ponder your punishment."

Sighing, Alucard looked up at the sky. A silver of moonlight peeked through a slim opening in the clouds. It caught Integra's hair and dress, making them shine like a winter star. There was no more turning back. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side, and pulled her close. She struggled, but surprisingly little. He buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply.

"Let me tell you a story, Integra," he murmured into her ear and she stopped resisting momentarily. "I had a wife once, did I tell you that?" He felt her shaking her head. "She was beautiful, a lovely woman, a catch in every way. There was only one problem. She didn't love me. And when she did, it was only because she bore my mark. Her heart was wild and strong, just like yours. And like you, she did not belong to me."

Gently, he brushed her hair away and planted a light kiss on her neck.

"I could mark you, you know," he said softly. "I could mark you right now and make you my bride. Seals and bonds be damned, I could do it right now. But I cannot. If you do not love me under your own power, then none of it is worth it."

Integra said nothing.

"I couldn't blame her, you know," Alucard continued. "Even now, I can't blame her for not loving me. I was a monster. I'm still a monster, a wretch that walks this Earth. Could you ever love a monster, Lady Hellsing?"

She gave no answer as he held her tightly, wondering whether whatever it was inside him that passed for a heart could break. Time passed and they pulled apart at last. Integra kept her eyes downcast, knowing he was watching, waiting.

"And so, Integra," he said, "this is the truth. I love you, simple because you're beautiful, in every way."

"Kneel."

He did, dropping to one knee before her. With both hands she cradled his face and lifted his eyes to meet hers. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. He closed his eyes, as did she, as she moon disappeared behind the clouds once more.

Walter found Alucard on the balcony once again, still admiring the city. He took up a spot beside him, and saw that the vampire was smiling.

"It turned out well, then?"

Alucard nodded. "You could say that."

"She returns your feelings?"

"Not exactly."

"And yet you are smiling?"

Gazing up into the clearing sky, Alucard leaned into the wind, feelings its caress. "Because I know now, old man, that does love me. As much as a master can love her servant, that is how she loves me. And for now, that is enough."

"You haven't given up."

"If I had to wait another five hundred years for her to change her mind, I will do so gladly."