Ignacious Aurelius Hellsing starred at the casket in front of him. A cigarette dangled from his lips and he did not look at all pleased. His brow was knitted together in concentration and his lips fell into a frown. Despite his surly behavior his dark good looks left an impression, and the women in the front row could be seem over his should, casting him quick glances.

Ignacious put a hand on the casket, it was a dark wood, and it shone brightly. It was beautiful.

He snorted. His mother would have preferred her organizations money go to something better than a pretty box to burry in dirt. It was for the fools around him that this silly contraption had been bought.

He crunched the program they had given him in his fist. They could write whatever they wanted onto a piece of paper. It did not make her a good person; it did not guarantee her a place in heaven. It was just ink, after all. Integra Hellsing was no more qualified to be one of the angels in heaven than she was to be Austria's next tennis star. She was a flawed, dark individual. Her actions echoed as a testament to her beliefs and her iron will, but one good does not out do a life of grey.

The young man turned on his heel to leave.

"Ignacious," said an older man dressed in navy. "For God's sake, would you not at least stay for the epitaph? She was your mother, the least you could do it pay your last resects."

The Hellsing looked down at the smaller man. He seemed so expressionless and good looking that the balding port bellied elder looked away, uncomfortable.

"Yes," said Ignacious, almost to himself. "She was my mother, wasn't she?"

The other man looked up from his feet as if he had just heard something break.

"Not to worry," Ignacious said coldly. "I sincerely doubt this is her final resting place."

As he walked away the other man looked at him curiously.

"Strange man," he muttered to himself. "Just like his mother…but colder…and better looking…strange, strange man."

Ignacious walked away, into the mansion that had been his childhood home before he started a new branch in the states and was now his inheritance once again. He walked easily into the dark and most ancient part of the house, the basement.

He got there in what seemed like no time at all and he stopped, looking around as if trying to find something. He slipped a hand in his pocket.

"Seras," he said after a moment. "Are you there, or did you take off with the rest of your lot?"

A wind whipped through the hallway. Ignacious smiled for the first time.

"Hello Iggy," said a cheerful voice. Ignacious winced at the childish nickname.

"Hello Seras," he said to the air. He could not see her even still. "It's good to see someone didn't take off on me."

Seras materialized next to him, he could feel it. Instead of turning around to look he pulled a lighter out of his pocket, intending to light the cigarette he had been nursing.

"They didn't take off," she said almost sadly. "Not really. There still with us, sort of."

"What are you babbling about," he asked through a drag. "I've been waiting for this for nearly a decade. It was practically inevitable."

Seras choked, Ignacious assume she was trying not to cry. "But I didn't want them to go. I miss them, memories just aren't the same."

Ignacious was taken aback. It was rare that he got to see the Seras of the stories his father had told him.

"They're hardly out of reach."

"They're dead."

"Aren't we all ultimately? It's just how long you can draw it out."

"I want them to come back."

"Don't be stupid, Seras. They're probably somewhere we'll never even to get to see."

Seras looked away. Ignacious could see she was upset.

"Do you thing we'll meet them again?" she asked, a quiver in her voice.

"Undoubtedly," Ignacious said dryly.

Seras smiled. "You're so like them."

Ignacious snorted and took her arm. "Yes, so I am frequently told," he mumbled.

Seras scooted a bit closer.

"You know," said Ignacious after a time. "I think I'll stay here."

Seras stopped, visibly shocked. Her eyes seemed rather wide.

"What about the States?" she asked.

"What about them? He asked curtly. "Obviously I've thought of that, Seras. Give me some credit."

She smiled to herself.

They walked together all the way to the other end of the mansion, then all the way to the top, where Integra's office was still packed with all her belongings.

Ignacious walked in, leaving Seras at the door. He stood in the middle of the room looking around. It felt like home.

"I think I'll leave things the way they are," he muttered to himself. "Mother had damn good taste."

He walked to the desk and sat down.

"You look like you belong here," said Seras, finally stepping in.

"I do," he replied simply.

They just were for a moment, in silence. It felt good to just be.

"What's that?" asked Seras after a time.

Ignacious glanced down, a gleam of silver catching his eye.

"It's my mother's cross," he said, moving to pick it up. "I suppose she won't need it any more."

He fiddled with it, and then threw it to Seras.

"You have it," he said. "You're closer to God than I am."

Seras looked at him disapprovingly. "That's exactly why you need the reminder you silly boy."

Ignacious grinned at her cockily. He tossed a leg up, putting his foot on top of the desk.

"Look," exclaimed Seras, "there's a royal letter by your foot."

Sure enough, there was a small envelope with the royal seal. He grabbed it up and tore it open then read it over quickly.

"Jesus P. Christ," he said after a minute. "Damn it, they're all in cahoots after all!"

"What does it say?" asked Seras eagerly.

"Sir Hellsing," he read aloud. "I am pleased to inform you that we will be holding a ball in your honor at Chesterfield hall this June 6th of ….."