The Caterpillar

The night dragged on, thick and sticky. The air felt like molasses, dripping its moisture across the rolling hills of England, drenching the leaves and reeds. Clouds hung heavy and fat, as an almost- full moon was veiled with fog . Its light still shone, soft and muted, paling the shadows . Occasionally, a rush of wind would toss the clouds, revealing more of the silver light, while the branches swayed against each other. Ears pricked up and listened for the slight sounds of the evening: twigs cracking , the flutter of night-bird wings, and the scampering of small prey . Alone in a patch of bushes, a pair of gold eyes observed the sky and darted quickly back to the ground. A small rabbit darted out of the brush, completely unaware of the predatory presence. While the tempting scent of a potential meal intrigued the creature, she had to stay focused. She was still miles away from her destination.

While it could have been easy to stay hidden and remain on the grounds from earlier in the day, she could not risk coming into confrontation with humans again until she had found her master. She thought that she had discovered him this afternoon- the scent was undeniable, but she had not expected to find it on a woman . It was not unimaginable but, just surprising. What would he look like this time around- it had been almost a century since they had last met. Would he be glad to see her, angered, aroused-? Would they rip each other's clothes off, or just rip into each other? Absently, a piece of bark crunched underfoot- the rabbit's ears pricked up, and like a bullet, the little beast shot off into the darkness.

"I must be getting careless in my old age…." The wolf muttered to herself and she began her trek back to Manor, the woman, and her master…..


Hellsing Manor, The Master Bedroom

The print had begun to get smaller and smaller. Squinting didn't help very much, and adjusting her glasses proved to be quite useless. Apparently, Integra did not translate the readings as well as she could have; there were some parts of "Revealing the True Nature of the Vampire and His Kin" that were beginning to get disjointed. Unfortunately, the rather lurid and explicit explanations of human/vampire coupling were fully in - tact, but nothing was clear on the duration of pregnancy , nor were there any descriptions of birthing . There was also an entire section that began to dissolve into complete gibberish. The woman grumbled and tossed down the parchments in frustration. Sir Hellsing fell back into her pillows and rubbed her eyes with a huff. Soon, a gentle pair of hands began to caress her hair and kneed her pulsing temples.

"What's wrong, having trouble figuring it out?", a voice cooed.

"Please, don't patronize me- I can't be fluent in everything…." She replied. The pressure became firmer and a full, human body began to materialize underneath. Long arms embraced and gave a squeeze. The woman turned and faced her mate. A peck on the forehead smoothed her mood and their bodies began to merge comfortably . A slender hand ran over the small of her back and rested playfully on her rump.

"Ancient Russian was never my forte.",

"You're wearing pyjamas….", the vampire stated, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

" Sorry- I'm not in the mood tonight.," she replied. Alucard pouted, but respectfully slid his hand back up to her waist.

"What's on your mind?" The woman rolled off and over, retrieving the documents. A brittle, beige paper was placed on his chest.

"There's no information on the duration of pregnancy, and scarcely any details about the actual condition. In spite of Dr. Seward's research, we're coming up blank."

"The average pregnancy's nine months, so figuring the hyper-metabolized healing and re-generation of vampires' I would expect that it would take much less time-a few months perhaps."

"Are you sure about that, or is this just an educated guess?" Integra asked. The creature studied the parchment, scrutinizing the last, few, blurred lines.

"What does it say?" A sly smirk began to spread over his face.

"Hmmm, this is giving me some wonderful ideas…The beginning of this page mainly deals with the creating of children, in all its many glorious positions and practices, but I think that this doctor of yours should have checked the end of the translation a bit more thoroughly." Integra quirked her eyebrow.

"I don't understand…" Alucard motioned to the last paragraphs on the page.

"This section over here speaks of the merging of human and demon blood…" A cold chill began to creep up Sir Hellsing's spine.

"Demons? What in the world is she implying!?" The vampire placed down his reading, the playfulness gone from his tone.

"The next time you go to Dr. Seward, I want to be there."

Elsewhere- La Regina Hotel, Venice, Italy

He hated to admit it, absolutely, positively loathed the fact that no matter how hard he tried to occupy his time, mind, and hands, a nasty little truth clung to his mind like a burr.

He missed her.

He missed the sheen of her hair as it spilled down her back. He thought back to the way the curve of neck would peak out of her stern suit and tie. The waters of the canals were murky compared to her eyes. He longed to hear her clipped, British accent and her rare, dry laugh. Maxwell turned uncomfortably, tossing the sheet s off of his warming body. The more private memories edged into his skull; the taste of her mouth, the pale scars trailing over her shoulder, and how hard her nipples were under his tongue. His muscles tensed and he let out a stifled breath. The leggy lady next to him stirred and began to snuggle up to his side.

"Are you alright, Dolce?" the girl sleepily asked. Her fingers slid up his chest and she pressed her curves to him. While her touch had felt wonderful just a few hours ago, Enrico felt like recoiling.

"I'm fine, just fine .Let's get some sleep." The call girl laid a kiss on his cheek, turned, and bundled herself under the covers. When the escort had begun to doze off, the bishop raked his fingers through his hair. Integra's touch had been light, gentle, almost playful, and God, it felt so far off now. However, he had to remind himself it was she who had rejected him, brought all kind of tumult upon his household and cost him a near fortune in damage control. This woman had nearly destroyed the structure of Section XIII she was unworthy of even a mere thought in his head, never mind his heart. After all, his son would be born in just a matter of weeks, he wanted those concerns to occupy his time. The man rolled away from his bedmate and curled up under the bed sheets like a caterpillar, cocooning under silk and cotton.