Hellsing's Tribblable Troubles

Disclaimer: I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

AN: Apologies, but I'm afraid I just didn't have the time to update any of my regular fics this week. I spent most of my weekend at my brother's for his birthday, and I just didn't get much time to write. However, I was able to 'pen' a silly, little one-shot that I think you may enjoy.

Seras continued on, deeper into the dark recesses of the secret Millennium base, deeper into the horrid pit where the Nazi remnants ran their perverse experiments, deeper into the very heart of the lion's den. The young Fledgling could only imagine what she'd find. Millennium was obsessed with re-creating monsters using genetic manipulation. Folklores, campfire stories, horror novels and movies, and even television; there was no medium they wouldn't tap in an effort to create the abominations which so haunted the nightmares of men and women. Seras had already fought off faux vampires; 'zombies'; giant, mutated turtles wielding ninja-like weapons; and one of the most bizarre creatures she'd ever seen – a six-foot, insect like creature with a 'spring-loaded', penetrating, fanged tongue, a hard, dark exoskeleton and acidic blood. All of that to reach where she was now, the last lab room.

The door was large, thick and made out of a dingy but strong looking metal. And an involuntary chill ran down the fledgling's spine as she reached for the handle of the long bar which kept the door bolted shut. What possible abomination awaited her within? What could Hellsing's enemy be hiding in this last lab room? What horror? What inhuman killing machine?

Slowly the door opened and Seras's eyes widened as she saw... a plastic container in which rested a small, purring ball of fur. This was one of Millennium's monstrous experiments? Surely not? It must... must have been food for some other, unholy creature, right? But if that was the case, then where was the predator which would feast upon this innocent looking ball of fur?

Seras stretched out with her vampiric senses, her mystical ability to observe the unseen and see a short distance into the future. If there was another creature about, she would know. She would see its soul, feel its emotions, know its intentions and smell its blood. And as Seras stretched out this sixth sense of hers, she suddenly became aware of... nothing. That is to say nothing her human senses had not already revealed to her.

There was no hidden monster lurking in the shadows of the lab, no evil entity just waiting for an opportunity to take her pretty, little head clean off. There was only her, her and whatever that creature was which softly purred from within its plastic confinement. Focusing her sixth sense wholly on the small mound of fur, Seras scanned it thoroughly. Perhaps it was more than it seemed?

No, it was exactly as it seemed, a helpless ball a fur, harboring her no evil intentions whatsoever. It merely wished to exist, eat, reproduce and continue its purring – a purring which Seras found to be somewhat hypnotic and oddly calming. Strange, how could anyone possibly use such a creature as a weapon of war?

"Well, little one, I guess they dropped the ball with you, huh?" Seras spoke as she drew up next to the plastic container. "I don't know what kind of a monster you were suppose to be, but obviously they forgot to 'carry the one' at some point while splicing your genes."

The creature, of course, did not answer. Instead it just continued to purr. And Seras opened up the case and picked up the small ball of fur. It was every bit as soft as it appeared, and it nuzzled itself against her arm as she held it.

"Awwww," the young fledgling cooed. "You like me, don't ya?" She smiled. "Well, technically our orders call for the extermination of all of Millennium's experiments. Buuut, you're obviously not a threat to anyone. So, well, it hardly seems necessary in your case. Even still... Well, I can't just release you into the wild. Without any fangs, claws or spikes to protect you, and pretty much no ability to run or hide you wouldn't last very long. So... Well, I guess you'll just have to come home with me. You could be my pet, and I'll call you... um, Schmooples! Yes, that's it. What do you think?"

The creature just continued its purring, and Seras decided to take that as an agreement. And so, happily, the young fledgling returned to the Hellsing Manner with a fuzzy, little pet. She scavenged an old, cardboard box from the recycling pile in the garage, grabbed a towel out of one of the many linen closets and made a home for Schmooples on top of her night stand.

And then, after filing her report, Seras went out in search of something she could feed her new pet. She eventually settled on hamster food, and recognizing the value of buying in bulk, purchased a fifty pound bag of the stuff from a nearby pet store. Returning home, she spread a handful of the feed in Schmooples's cage.

Then Seras retired for what was left of the day. It had been a long night's work, and it was already three in the afternoon by the time the lid of Seras's coffin slowly lowered shut. But she knew she could still get three or four hours rest before her master... or his master would come up with another assignment for her.

As night fell, the fledgling woke up to something most unexpected. No longer did she have one 'Schmooples' in her card-board box. Rather a dozen of the small balls of fur sat there, softly purring their calming chant. "Oh, I guess you must've been pregnant, huh? Odd, I don't remember running by any other... 'whatever-you-are's in the labs. I wonder where your mate got off to." Seras commented and pondered this for a moment or two before shrugging.

"Well, whatever happened to him, you had a cute, little litter of kiddies, didn't you, Schmooples?" the fledgling cooed as she pet the young mother. "Unfortunately... well, I'm not sure I could really take care of all of you on my own. But don't worry. I'll make sure I find good homes for your kids," Seras promised and then heard her master's summons in her head. "Er, well, I will when I have some free time anyway," she continued.

"Until then," Seras reached into the bag of hamster feed and pulled out two overflowing handfuls, which she sprinkled all over the bottom of the box, "gotta make sure you and your family have enough food." And then the Fledgling ruffled the fur of her new pet and headed for her chamber door.

On the way there, an idea struck her however, and she turned to her dresser instead. She removed a Polaroid instant camera -- a cherished keepsake and (other than a few pictures) the only thing she had left to remember her father by -- from the bottom drawer and moved back over to the card-bored box. The fledgling snapped off a quick photo of the litter of mini-Schmooples before carefully placing the camera back in the drawer and heading off to heed her master's call.

Over the course of the night Seras managed to find homes for all her little Schmooples, mostly with the children of other Hellsing employees, who's parents were either won over by the photo of the adorable critters... or the young fledgling's cute smile and reassurance that the little balls of fur would make excellent pets. And so, though somewhat tired from her job and pet peddling, Seras felt both happy and proud of her accomplishments as she returned once more to the mansion basement which had become home to her. However, as the fledgling opened her chamber door she got another surprise.

Seras shrieked in startled alarm as a veritable mountain of purring fur descended upon her, knocking her over and burying her under the soft avalanche. Surprised by the unexpected, grossly excessive number of Schmooples, it took Seras several moments to regain her composure and dig her way to the top of the pile of adorable critters. And as she emerged, the fledgling couldn't help but sigh at her current predicament. How was she ever going to get out of this one?

One week later, Seras's master, Alucard slowly stalked the mansion's corridors wondering much the same thing. The terrible creatures had spread and spread until only his own chamber remained untouched by their infestation – and that only because he'd had the ability and foresight to begin phasing in and out of it, thereby bypassing the need to open the door and chance contamination.

But what was even worse than the infestation of cute and cuddly critters was the effect they'd seemed to have on the rest of the Hellsing mansion's occupants. There was something about the frequency of the small bundles of furs' purring which seemed to leach away human anger, ambition and fury. Even the monster's own master did not seem immune to this as she'd become compliant enough that she'd actually invited members of section XIII over to discuss a truce – the very idea!

And what was worse was that – under pressure from the rest of the Vatican – Maxwell had actually agreed to the meeting. And of course, Alucard knew exactly how that meeting would go. Despite whatever venom the Arch Bishop carried when he arrived, these purring abominations -- which so infested every room and corridor that the entire mansion looked as if it had been lined in fur – would leech that venom away and, sooner or later, the Arch Bishop would agree to a truce. And just like that Hellsing would lose one of its most powerful enemies... and Alucard would lose the only man in a hundred years who he thought actually had some slight chance of slaying him. No, he couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't.

The ancient vampire had to figure out someway to stop things before they got any worse, but how? Under normal circumstances, he could've counted on his master's support to deal with the incursion. But as things were she'd lost her fire and would only offer him platitudes and optimistic assessments that everything was okay and would work itself out, given enough time. What had happened to his Woman of Steel?!

His fledgling, likewise, could not be counted on for this particular situation. As a 'half' vampire, the purring did not effect her nearly as strongly as it did a full blown human. But Alucard knew that by virtue of her personality alone, he'd never get her to agree to harm the 'adorable', little critters.

Yet, Alucard realized that he needed help. There were millions of the parasitic fur balls now, and he didn't have enough ammo to put down one percent of them. And eating that many was out of the question. Either he'd end up turning them into small, furry, ghouls – something that he was sure his master would most strenuously object to once she was back to her regular self – or he'd be forced to consume them utterly, merging their very souls with his. And that too was unacceptable.

There were so many of them now that their pacifistic, purring, worthless souls would outnumber all the other's Alucard had consumed in his five centuries as a vampire. The end result of such a merger was horrifying just to contemplate. Why, he could, possibly, end up no better than those sparkly fakers who lived in America!

It was then that a light bulb appeared above the ancient vampire's head. Perhaps? Yes, there was one avenue of help left to him – though it pained him so to even consider it. Yet, what choice did he have?

With a despondent sigh, Alucard turned himself invisible and shadow shifted into his master's office. He checked to insure that she was out, then made himself corporeal once more and walked over to her desk. Alucard retrieved his master's book of contacts and searched for the number he did not want to find, but needed nonetheless. Yes, she had indeed written it down, and Alucard shook his head.

His master had a habit of keeping the numbers of anyone she thought might make a potential ally in some future conflict – even Maxwell's number was recorded in the book. And in most cases, Alucard thought it a wise practice of hers. However in this one case? What possible conflict could his master have foreseen that these... things could possibly be beneficial allies for? There was no way she could've predicted something like an outbreak of purring, hypnotic fur balls... was there?

Well, whatever the reason, she'd kept the number; and now, Alucard found himself forced to call in the assistance of the only creatures in the world that he hated almost as much as the abominations which currently infested his master's home. As he dialed the number, the red clad killer tried to console himself with the knowledge that at least he wouldn't have to deal with these 'fairies' for as long as last time.

The phone rang three times and then a voice was heard on the other end. "Yes, Carlisle here. Who is it?" the voice politely greeted.

"The ones who saved your sparkly asses on that island five months back.* Now get them over here and do the only thing you're actually good at – chomping down on furry, woodland creatures! Or I swear, if it takes me a full century, I'll hunt down every last member of your miserable 'family', swallow their souls and torture them until the second coming!!!" And with that Alucard slammed the phone down on its receiver and shivered.

In both life and death, he'd conquered, killed, raped and tortured millions of people, yet never before had the monster actually felt disgusted with himself. Truly, going to such inept fakers for assistance was a terrible price to pay. Yet, for the sake of returning his master and the rest of her servants to their former, bloodthirsty selves and perpetuating the wars which were nearly his sole source of excitement, it was a price which needed to be paid.

Well, there you go. Sorry I didn't have time for anything else, but I hope you got at least a couple of chuckles out of this. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. ;)

*Reference to Lion in the Land's "Survivor: Vampire Island" fic.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.