#hellsing fiction

Chapter 1 - The White Stone

In the sea without lees Standeth the bird of Hermes Eating his wings variable And maketh himself yet full stable When all his feathers be from him gone He standeth still here as a stone Here is now both white and red And all so the stone to quicken the dead All and some without fable Both hard and soft and malleable Understand now well and right And thank you God of this sight The bird of Hermes is my name eating my wings to make me tame.

It was as if no time had passed.

Sitting on the same side of the bed he always had, watching the rise and fall of her breathing as she slept, the vampire king smiled to himself. Her hair was lighter, peppered with white, and she abhorred the wrinkles and lines of age on her face, but to him she was more beautiful than ever. She was human, and had aged - a natural magic he would never see.

It had taken thirty years for him to regain himself. Thirty long years for him to kill all the lives within him, save one. One that now allowed him to be everywhere and nowhere at once, one life that granted him omnipresence and would ensure his survival… and that of his little coven.

Of course he would never call them that aloud. Not that he thought Seras would mind much - it was hard enough keeping her at bay right now. He could feel her excitement and joy at having him back vibrating at the edge of his attention even now. That Captain Bernadotte was still around so actively surprised him little, but not as much as he’d have predicted. Of course he’d become Seras’s shadow. The man had been amusing at best in life, but had transcended the limitations of his mortal form into something far more interesting and entertaining. A security barrier for the entire manor. It was impressive.

And yet it was Integra that intrigued him the most. She was still herself - that core of ice, steel, and pride she’d had since she was a girl had not dulled in his absence. To his dismay and perhaps a touch of guilt, there was a light that had gone from her eyes. She was sad… Seras claimed constantly, though she clarified Integra hid it until she thought no one was looking.

It just made the No Life King smile. It was not out of cruelty, he had not meant to make her wait so very long. But even before, when he had desired her for his queen, and shared intimacy with her, selfishly spoiling her expectations in the hopes of keeping her for himself and hoping she would never find the touch of another man… he had wanted to die. He knew what it was like to be tired. The press of lives inside him, the cacophony of bitter and angry, scared voices never letting him escape his past. He relived the horrors that had made him what he was in his dreams most nights.

But no more. Now, there was an eerie calm, a peace to his mind. Gone with the turmoil and dinn had gone his self annihilation impulses. Yes, he was a monster. Yes, if he were to be removed from this world it would be at the hands of a human, as it should be. Humans killed monsters, it was the way of things. But he longed for that death no more.

Now, he longed for her.

Still, he longed for her.

And she for him. That was what drew a smile from him.

Reaching out to run fingers through her impossibly long hair, Alucard's smile broadened. He’d said to his Countess he was home, and he felt the truth of that statement. He also felt Seras trying to eavesdrop down the hall. Without untangling his fingers from Integra’s hair, he reached out his other hand through his new power - is wasn’t even really bending space. His hand was merely both in Integra’s room, and suddenly directly in front of Seras’s face.

Flipping one finger out, Seras yelped like a squeaky toy as she went flying backwards off the chair she was sitting on, and immediately started yelling at him.

“That was so mean, Master! Why would you do that I was sitting here minding my own business and you just-”

You were eavesdropping, Police Girl, he said to her mind, smirking as the nickname caused her to fuzz like an upset cat. Do better.

With a sigh and a non-verbal grumble as he reclaimed his hand, he heard her say dejectedly to his mind, Yes, Master.

Seeing Integra had not stirred, the vampire smiled to himself. So she thought herself old and undesirable, that he was too late. And yet she’d bested every man, every day of training for the last thirty years. She remained the respected head of her family organization, made Hellsing better, stronger than before. This all revealed to him when he had tasted her blood this night, a sweet ambrosia after starving for so long… and there was one little last, precious detail that made his hair curl to think about; she was still a virgin. She had waited on him in more ways than one.

She had missed him.

She was mad, he could feel that. Perhaps not enough to empty a second clip of blessed bullets into him after realizing who her nighttime interloper had been, but… he had some time to make up for before he would get her to agree.

But she would, eventually. Just as he had known she had thirty-two years ago.

She would agree to be his queen. It was time.

***

In the morning, Integra woke alone and wondered if the night before had been a very vivid dream. She looked around her room as she sat up, and felt a chill run down her spine. Surely it had been real…? Looking to her hand, her wound from where she’d fed Alucard was present. And yet it wasn’t enough to assure her.

She rose to dress after a short shower, glancing disapprovingly at herself in the mirror. Refined, mature, distinguished? Feh. Try old. Not to mention the eye patch from where the damned Major of Millennium had shot her. Fist clenched at her side she was still angry about it to this day. Less the vanity and more the lack of depth perception. She’d had to relearn how to shoot, to fence, to write… to do everything. That little gremlin had continued to make life hard for her for years after his death.

These thoughts carried her downstairs and into the kitchen for breakfast. She missed the days of Walter’s flapjacks and jam, but Walter had made his choice. Traitor. It had been more than ten years before Seras finally convinced Integra to entertain the notion of hiring another assistant. They’d been through four maids, two butlers and three personal assistants since then, none of which had worked out. The last had been a kind, elderly woman who’d done everything just right, and whose background check had been spotless. Poppy McCarthy had been ex-military and unbothered by the supernatural aspects of the job. She had been with them for six years. She’d taken to Seras and Pip quickly, pinching the walls to make the Captain jump, and told him she’d find his behind one day (much to Seras’s great amusement). McCarthy had intuitively picked up on Integra’s needs as well, keeping distant most days, but always knowing just the right times to say something insightful and uplifting. Come to find out, Poppy had also left a clean set of clothes next to the door of Alucard’s sealed chamber every few days.

She’d been perfect, and Integra had finally started to accept her... when she died. Seemed an unknown heart condition coupled with a vampire attack on the manor had been too much for the elderly woman. Though to her credit, she’d taken out more than a dozen ghouls in the process, and they didn’t get to her at all. She had died a human warrior against the darkness.

That had been two years ago now, and Integra had not had the heart to go through it all again. It wasn’t that they didn’t need the help, it’s that she was tired of coming to care for people she would inevitably loose. It was part of the job, yes. She was a knight and a soldier who understood this, yes. Years of experience and training had prepared her for difficult decisions and loss. But after Alucard… she felt defeated.

Toast and a boiled egg was for breakfast, and Integra knew she was procrastinating. She wanted to go tearing downstairs, throw open Alucard’s door and see if he was there. She was equally terrified he wouldn’t be. But, she was English Nobility. She didn’t go haring off into a dungeon for anyone. She had dignity and manners, dammit.

Perhaps I can save you the trouble, my master , came the satin touch of a familiar baritone to her mind.

Still reading my mind unbidden, I see , she retorted flatly, trying her best to think of sunny days and toast, rather than the thrill of relief and other strong emotions his voice wrung from her.

I have missed years of eavesdropping your thoughts, he chuckled. I plan to make up for lost time for that, and many other things .

With a sigh, she was going to give herself a headache trying to keep her thoughts from him. She’d gotten fairly good at it over the years with help from Seras. But Seras was not as powerful as Alucard yet. Integra had every confidence that she would likely never be able to hide her thoughts from him entirely. So, she tossed the crust of her toast in the bin, and with head held high made her way to the sub-basement. It would be easier to talk to him in person.

***

“Don’t think that you can waltz right back in here, appearing like the villain the Irishman wrote you as, over my bed and that tra-la-la everything will go back to how it once was, servant,” she snapped.

Alucard sat in his throne (he’d missed it! It was so much more comfortable than he’d remembered!), legs crossed and trying with all his might not to smile at the platinum haired fury across from him. She was very angry, and he understood why. She was also armed. While it wouldn’t do any lasting damage, Alucard did not care to be shot for a second time in twelve hours.

She was railing on, having perhaps been a touch provoked at his smug suggestion that she sit on his lap. Ranting about the years gone by, what Hellsing had endured, what she had endured, how dare he suggest that nothing had changed, and so on. It all faded in his ears as he watched her. He heard her words, and paid attention, but there was something captivating about her now that had not been before. She was comfortable in her skin, or had been more recently than not. She was no longer the young, angry, tight fisted young woman who’d clung tooth and nail to her inheritance. Her blouse was gathered at the sleeves, not a tailored man’s shirt. Her belt was a woman’s belt. There was a small edge of lace at the end of her tie. This anger was earned, and not an affronted outburst of sensitive pride...

The storm had passed, and left in its wake a goddess where once a young woman had stood.

“Well?!” she demanded, arms crossed expectantly. “Where do you expect this to go now?”

She meant as the weapon of the organization, as her servant having fully and quickly grasped the extent of his new power. Both her words and her very purposeful thoughts were focused on that.

But in her subconscious mind, he felt the young woman he’d left to go save himself, buried deep in a dark room not unlike the one in which they stood. She was hurt, weeping and very angry, and she wanted to know where they stood.

Integra slowed, as she was the only other thing capable of independent movement in the room, when he began moving in supernatural speed. As he stood and took a step forward, he watched her one blue eye widen- she’d seen him move. She’d not see him now, nor would she again until he stopped in front of her, but it made him smile that she was faster than ever, his lovely, deadly master.

Time resumed it’s proper course when he halted, nearly nose to now with Integra, hand on her gun and having every intent of shooting him again. Alucard could no longer refrain from smiling, holding her wrist to prevent her from unholstering the weapon. “I expect to be your servant in service to the Hellsing Organization until the day you decide that you’re no longer mad at me, that I have paid my penance for the thirty year absence, and that you are ready to join me as my No Life Queen, Intergal Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.”

Her eye widened, despite the rest of her face remaining stoic. “That… cannot be now. I could not be old for eternity.”

“No?” he asked, leaning down a touch and pulling her closer by the wrist he held. He noted, she did not try and struggle away. “Have you not seen me appear as a child? A girl-child even. I was no Seras Victoria when I became a monster, Countess. My blood, when it courses your veins,” he said as if speaking elicit poetry, “Will wash many years away, and one day, what form you take will be entirely up to you and untouchable by what time once thought to render.”

At that, her blue eye watered a little, and much of her anger fled. “And you?” she asked, refusing to give into the desire to lean against him. “You would still have me?”

Loosing her wrist and wrapping both arms around her, Alucard leaned in to kiss her neck, breathing over her skill and reveling in the shudder that took her body.

“You are my Countess, and have no idea what it took to return to you. The thought of your blood, your body, your kiss… were the desires that created cornerstones within me. When I lost myself, you, my master, were the foundations on which I was able to reclaim who I am. And be here.”

Reaching up to turn her face to him with a gentle finger, one arms still holding her against his chest, he grinned to see the spark of fire back in her one remaining eye. “I would have you here and now, if you gave the word, Countess.”

She damn near said yes. He saw it in her thoughts, felt it in the beat of her heart…

But, the walls cleared their throat?

“Pardonne moi, mes amis ,” Bernadotte’s voice echoed around them. “Seras wished for me to let Sir Hellsing know that apparently the Vatican is back?”

“I can kill them, and we can continue,” Alucard purred, feeling his temper flare a bit.

But Integra sighed and rest her forehead on Alucard’s shoulder. “They’ll find the family jewels if we leave them be too long, nosy bastards.”

Alucard frowned. “There was no family treasure Arthur or Abraham ever mentioned.”

“That’s because there isn’t any,” Integra chuckled. “That’s the joke. Pip?”

“Mademoiselle ?”

“Tell Seras I will be there in a few minutes. And politely fuck off for a moment, if you would?” The disembodied voice of the French mercenary chuckled, but turned his attention elsewhere noticeably, leaving them alone.

“Where were we,” Alucard rumbled, but was surprised when Integra took his face in her hands and kissed him. Chaste at first, her lips parted and he groaned, arms tightening around her waist as he tasted her mouth for the first time in what felt like much longer than thirty years.

It was more than a few minutes. No clothes were shed, nor anything more than a kiss. But it was a scandalous, toe curling affair from which Alucard did not wish to part. Unfortunately, it seemed the Jesus Freaks were starting to give his child a hard time upstairs.

Samhain

Integra glared out the windows of her office over the garden where Moira, Ander, Seras, and Captain Bernadotte, Walter and Father Anderson who were all manifest next to the others chatting. Tapping the cigar she smoked to free the ash from the end, she observed as they were stringing up lights, carving gourds and making a ridiculous, candle covered spectacle of the Gardens.

It seemed they’d decided to celebrate Samhain, or Halloween this year.

She had been watching this with disapproval for some time, having picked up on bit of the conversation, such as Anderson bemoaning the pagan holiday as an affront to God. Moira, his biological grandmother and Druid, pointed out it was a holy day long before the ‘bloody church’. In the following discussion to answer Seras’s questions about Samhain, it seemed Anderson’s objections faded under the explanation of celebrating the end of summer and honoring the dead. It seemed being one of the honored dead engendered a bit of tolerance for such a practice.

If she’d overheard correctly, Moira was also planning a costume party for the members of the organization and any Convention Knights that wished to join them. Something about no pajama costumes, but actual all out proper attire for a semi-formal masquerade. Seras was questioning how she’d gotten Integra to approve such a thing, to which Moira admitted she hadn’t yet, when Integra felt a subtle change in the room.

Always subtle, it had become a bit of a personal challenge and game to pinpoint the moment when Alucard entered a room. Since she was now a vampire as well, he was somewhat ever present in her mind, and with heightened senses could usually determine where he chose to be within the building if she focused. When he’d picked up on these truths, he’d started making it harder for her. Omnipresence being what it was to him, he could be two, three, or more places at once, behind her but not… everywhere and nowhere as it was said.

And yet there was a visceral reaction in her body when he entered the same room fully. Goosebumps tracing over her skin, things pulsing in her anatomy as if poised with anticipation, gums aching in a not unpleasant manner as her fangs distended a touch, especially when his scent hit her nostrils.

Of course this was all internal. On the outside, she ashed her cigar once more, not peeling her eyes from the ridiculousness in the gardens below. He said nothing, made no noise, but came to stand at her shoulder, his hand resting in the small of her back. He wore his normal red coat and tie, black suit and gloves, but was without hat or glasses as he too looked out over the garden. His grin spreading, the vampire king took in the scene, and Integra could feel that he was amused more so by the fact that all of this was grating on her.

“Oh shut up,” she mumbled, taking a long draw from her cigar.

“And yet I said nothing,” He purred, the deep baritone of his voice enhancing the physical reactions his presence already coaxed from her.

“You didn’t have to. I could read you in life, and now its just second nature.”

“Letting them have a bit of mundane fun isn’t the end of the world.”

“Hence why I have not stopped any of this… ridiculousness,” she stated in clipped tones.

Alucard’s smile was still growing. “You know it’s religious for the Druids.”

“Yes. And I intend to respect that.”

“And yet you are so chafed over some carved squash it’s been distracting me for over an hour,” he purred and finally turned his glowing red eyes to look at her. His gaze was like fire. Despite her state of full dress - White blouse with a red ascot tucked into her double breasted vest, gloves, black slacks and boots - she felt that he was very much seeing her without them.

“Was what you were doing so important that I need refocus myself?” she asked idly, doubting that he would say yes, and not having much intention of doing so despite his answer.

“I enjoy cleaning my guns while watching violent films,” he purred and leaned down, the intake of breath she heard indicating he was taking in her scent from her neck. Integra was a woman of great composure. She’d had decades of practice, and while she now looked no more than a woman in her early thirties, she was actually fifty-three years old.  And still her eyes closed as she leaned in slightly where Alucard kissed her neck. She could no more resist his affection than fly to the moon. “You're changing the subject, my Queen,” he pointed out.

“It chafes because it is time and money wasted. There is no need for such frivolity, and certainly less need to invite a slew of people I can barely tolerate into my home.”

“Frivolity is, in fact, the opposite of need,” Alucard chuckled, “But perhaps that is the reason they yearn for it. Only ever doing what is needed tatters the soul. You of all people should know that.”

“I sense your desire for me to refocus,” she said softly, reaching out to extinguish her cigar, “Though I suspect it has less to do with my irritation and more to do with something you want.”

“I desire many things,” he murmured, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her flush against his body, lips dancing over the pulse at her neck, “But perhaps to once again see you wrapped in black lace and on my arm in the ballroom downstairs is outweighing many of them right now.”

Integra wilted a touch, forehead against his shoulder in dismay. “Oh don’t tell me… you want me to approve Moira’s masquerade idea? Alucard… you know how I feel about being forced to socialize with… people.”

“And yet you flourish every time,” he rumbled, lifting her to sit on the edge of her desk and moving to stand in front of her. Lips pressed to her ear, his hands ran up her back, working to untuck her blouse and loose her vest. “Though I lament how long it took to return to your side, my Queen… it has been a lifetime since your eighteenth birthday.”

“If you want me in a dress and to dance, we can go upstairs and do that now , Count,” she said flatly, but her normal chill tone was not as sharp. His hands were very distracting, and she noticed his red jacket was now gone along with his gloves. She’d not learned to dismiss clothes yet… but that was fine seeing as Alucard was making it his pleasure to divest her of them.

“I would like that,” he chuckled, pulling back as he stood up a bit and looked down to meet her gaze. “But I would also like to escort my queen before her subjects, and smile at the myriad of reactions such a truth will wring from them.”

His hands were on her waist now where he stood between her knees, and Integra took her gloves off one finger at a time. “You want to brag, Count,” she accused with a small smirk. “Like some subtly grotesque exhibitionism.”

Alucard just smiled. “Perhaps… a little. Though I feel it won't be terribly subtle.”

Reaching up to undo her ascot, she dropped it to her desk and leaned back to look up at him with one eyebrow raised. It was a silent challenge, an aside from their conversation. He clearly had ulterior motives, and she was wondering if he had intentions to have her here on the desk. That would be new.

With a sigh, Integra looked up to the ceiling and was rewarded for her conflicted thoughts with Alucard’s tongue tracing the line of her throat. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she reveled in his teeth grazing her skin. “Fine,” she sighed. “For you, I will approve Moira’s bloody party.”

She felt him smile against her neck as he reached up to undo the buttons of her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders with a satisfied purr. “And will you let me choose your costume for the evening?”

“That might be pushing your luck, Count.”

“That is not a no.”

Turning her face to rub her cheek against his neck and take in his scent, she began undoing the buttons of his shirt as well. “I reserve a veto. On the grounds that I trust you, but I do not entirely trust your sense of humor.”

“How very wise of you,” he rumbled, allowing her to push his shirt from his shoulders. After this, there was notably less talking for a moment as he turned her face to his and claimed her mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss. Having shed half of their clothing, it was not enough. Integra pressed her nude breasts to his chest and pulled him close as she drank his kiss, matching his fervor.

It seemed Alucard had grown impatient over the evening as Integra had seen to Organization business. He dismissed his remaining clothes, and Integra found herself being relieved of the rest of hers in the blink of an eye. His arms around her waist, hers around his neck with fingers in his hair as she clung to him, Integra was not surprised to find her body was ready to accept his.

There was little warning or preamble before her lover, her king, thrust himself into her waiting desire, one hand gripping her hip to steady her a moment. She cried out in wordless ecstasy against his mouth, the full length of him plunged to the very hilt within her. Legs wrapping around his hips to arrest his movements where she sat on the desk, she bit his bottom lip with her fangs to draw blood. The addition of blood heightened her pleasure and drove her already burning hunger to new heights, and if his answering groan was any indication Alucard was of a similar mind.

I waited for hours, he mumbled to her mind as he began plunging his sex within her again. Too long to smell you. To touch you. Now, I will have you as I please, my Queen. Normally, she’d have rolled her eyes and pointed out his melodrama… but in the moment, she loved it. It stoked her burning ache for him and primed her sex for his ever more powerful thrusts.

And how would you please? She asked telepathically, her mind’s tone a seductress’s candor in conflict with the ravenous lover in his arms. She did not have to wait long for his response. Breaking their embrace, Integra found herself lift from the desk, set on the ground and bent over that same desk in a matter of seconds. Hips held with both of her King’s hands, she cried out when he drove his need within her once more.

It was not gentle, not sweet or romantic, but a carnal and heated act of release and need. Heavenly sin, these moments with Alucard. After a time, he plunged deeply and paused, and his hands moved from her hips, up her sides and coaxed her to stand. While he was still buried within her, he pulled her back against his chest, one hand massaging a swollen, aching breast, face pressed to her neck as he licked her now glistening skin. His other hand snaked over her stomach and down to the warmth between her legs. Fingers dancing over the sensitive flesh he knew so well, driving her higher and higher towards the pinnacle of pleasure, Integra was lost to the symphony of ecstasy her beloved Count conducted.

Let me feel you, his deep, provocative voice urged her mind, Cry out. Croon for me. Squeeze my flesh with your climax, and let me fuck you as I have ached to do for decades, my beautiful, deadly, No Life Queen.

Just a moment longer of moving her hips as best she could, and Integra’s world shattered into a million sparkling pieces as her body granted his requested. Sex constricting around his, she felt her lover shudder in delight as he gave her a moment to revel in the pleasure. But it was Integra who pulled away and turned to face him, pressing him back to her chair and forcing him to sit. Straddling his hips, she took him inside and began to move her own, gyrating as she both prolonged her pleasure, and strove to bring him the same.  His hands curled under her arms, clawing up her back and holding her close as he also moved beneath her. His lips pressed against her collarbone, Integra’s fingers curled into his hair, clinging to him as she helped him take his fill.

When he came, his roar muffled against her skin drew a wicked smile from her. Entwined as they were, they sat clinging to one another in the afterglow, basking in the unspoken shared emotions that needed no words. They were where destiny intended them to be.

Though it did not startle either vampire as they heard the approaching footsteps approaching, when Moira knocked at the door, Integra sighed. “Moment,” she called. Extracting herself from their lover’s embrace, Alucard helped integra dress quickly. As they walked to the door, Integra noticed that where he had been nude one moment, he was no longer - now in the same state of dress in which he’d appeared in her office that evening.

Moira was smiling when Integra opened the door. She was a Druid over a millennium old, and clever. She’d likely accurately assumed the reasons for a delay. “Good even’n, Sir Hellsing,” she beamed.

“And to you, Moira.” Joining her in the hallway, the trio began walking to the stairs.

“I was wonder’n, if perhaps ye had a moment for me?”

“I am a vampire, Moira,” the Hellsing Director stated flatly without looking to her head of staff, “I could hear most of the conversation outside my office window. I assume this is about the proposed Masquerade Ball you wish to have for the men and Convention of Twelve?”

“Aye, ‘tis.” The Druidess did not at all seem surprised.

“Then if you feel it is manageable within our personal budget for the house, I will approve the soiree.”

“But Sir Integra, I think that the men would really love-” Pausing as she realized Integra had agreed, that seemed to surprise her. “Wait.. you approve it?”

At the bottom of the stairs, Integra turned to look at Moira. Alucard was at her shoulder, and she didn’t need to look at him to feel the grin radiating from his face. “Provided you can cater, decorate and handle all expenses on the house’s budget alone. I do not wish to have to justify to the Round Table why we used Organization funds.”

Moira was very lovely, looking no more than mid to late thirties despite her years as a Regenerator. Though there had been some rather public issues with her recently which had forced the woman to dye her naturally auburn hair black in ‘disguise’, red eyebrows shot up in both surprise and happiness. “Oh aye! Of course, lass! Leave it to Seras and I an’ we’ll make it happen within those parameters! Thank ye!”

With that, the woman darted off calling for Seras, and Integra finally looked up to Alucard’s shit-eating smirk. “Happy?”

Reaching down to pull her against him with both arms, his nose brushed to hers as he rumbled, “I tremble with anticipation.”

***

Halloween Night

Integra looked herself over in the mirror and sighed. While she would not have chosen anything like it for herself, she had to admit Alucard’s choice was remarkably flattering. The dress was striking - modern in material and execution, ironically it had an empire waistline with a floor length skirt complete with teacup sleeves in the style of the end of the 18th century. Though the sleeves were chiffon as was the over skirt, and the hand beaded patterns over the bodice and neckline had oil-pearlescent twinkle to them.

Damn him. She actually liked this dress… and admitting that to him was going to be a touch painful.

Seras had helped Integra put some braids in her hair to keep it back from her face before Seras had gone to change, and Integra was contemplating the rest of the costume. Alucard had yet to appear, and as she wiggled her fingers down into the satin, elbow length gloves she was uncertain as to whether or not the accessories were appropriate.

She’d been so caught up in thought she’d not heard the approaching footsteps preceding the knock at her door. Senses told her it was Moira and Seras seconds before she bid them enter. Seras came bouncing happily in wearing a black and red costume in the style of a modern ‘Halloween witch’, though the skirt was risquély short. Hat tilted back from her face, her shadow powers held the shape of a cat on her shoulder that Integra realized was wearing a hat not unlike Captain Bernadotte’s… oh. It seemed even Pip was in on the fun if his cat ‘costume’ was any indication.

Moira was wearing what Integra felt was a ridiculous French Maid costume, but made well enough for the standards of the party. Neither woman was yet masked but they both radiated happiness. “Oh Master!” Seras cooed, “You look so lovely! Is that the dress Alucard selected?”

“It is,” Integra replied, and while she did not smile with her lips, the glance to herself in the mirror held a smile in her eyes. “But the accessories seem… egregious.”

Three pairs of eyes cast to the stool beside Integra’s antique mirror, where lay a silver halo and a pair of small, black feathered wings. Integra’s expression was grim as Seras stifled a giggle, though Moira seemed more understanding. “Aye… I c’n see where you might have some trepidation. Seems a bit soon ta be making such a bold statement.”

“My first public appearance as a vampire and he thinks that dressing me as an angel will not cause waves?” Integra sighed and shook her head.

“Oh I doubt Master thinks that,” Seras giggled, “He probably either wants the waves, or doesn’t care. But, as I am a loyal double agent between my masters, I also think you should wear it, Sir.”

With a cut of her blue eyes to Seras in annoyance and curiosity, Integra’s expression did not change. “Do you, now?”

“Yes sir. Because I happen to know what my master is wearing, and I think it will be appropriate, social wave causing or not.”

The room was still for half a dozen heartbeats as Integra weighed this information. At the end of the night, she could always just take the wings and halo off. Wasn’t as if they were being super glued into place. “Fine,” she muttered. “Moira?”

“Of course, Sir,” the Druidess grinned and fetched the items. Affixing the halo at the back of Integra’s head was made easier by the braids, and Integra realized that had been Seras’s plan all along. The Lace ribbons for the wings however took a little more finagling.

“And ye’ve had yer blood bags for the even’n, aye?”

“Yes,” Integra sighed.

“Good. Wouldn’t do te have ye eat’n a guest. No disrespect but-”

“It is the first non-Convention related gathering I’ve attended since becoming undead. I am aware.”

“O’course ye are, lass. Just wanting to remind ye that it’s okay to have a good time.”

“As a knight of the realm, I am ever on duty, Moira.”

“Oh but sir,” Seras cooed, “On duty and having fun aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, right? I mean, it’s only a little duty. We’re here, at home, where it’s safe and it’s just the boys and the Round table!”

They weren’t wrong, and Integra didn’t have any misgivings about the night, no gut feelings or intuitions that something would happen… she just wasn’t certain she knew how to have ‘fun’ any more outside her private times with Alucard.

Hell, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever know how to truly have fun at all.

Once Moira had affixed the wings, she and Seras took a step back too look at Integra in the mirror. It looked magnificent. How in the world Alucard had managed to have such a flattering, beautiful, and perfectly constructed costume found or made in a few days time she didn’t know, but it looked perfect.

Dammit.

After a bit of fussing over her hair, Moira handed Integra her black, delicately designed mask, and she and Seras donned their own before heading out of Integra’s room. Even Pip had a tiny red mask he wore, sitting curled lazily around Seras’s shoulders.

At the top of the stairs, Seras and Moira bid Integra to wait as they all but ran down to fetch Alucard. Looking to the ceiling in the hopes that perhaps she could find some patience, Integra didn’t bother to point out Alucard certainly already knew she was coming.

How kind of you to humor them , his amused chuckle echoed in her mind.

I’m already running low on patience and the night has not truly begun.

Because you are not yet on my arm, my Queen . She could feel his grin, though she could not yet see him. Come, let me see you.

She could feel when he came to stand at the bottom of the stairs with his words, and she took her place at the top. Banister decorated with fall flowers, cobwebs and fake spiders, she’d only passingly noticed the house being gussied up for the party this evening… until now. Seeing all the decor framing the vision that was her King, Integra had to pause before attempted to descend the stairs for fear of her weak knees causing her to fall.

His suit, black and perfectly tailored, was of a matching period to her dress. Tailcoat, waistcoat and straight legged suit pants tucked into black boots all perfected pressed, even his high collar shirt was black. The cravat he wore at his throat was blood red and perfectly quaffed, but it was the final detail that really drove home what Seras had meant in the bedroom. Atop Alucard’s head were two expertly crafted horns that swept back and down before curling up at the ends, not unlike an impala’s but smaller.

He was the demon to her angel. The Devil Himself.

It had also not escaped her notice that the era he’d selected the clothing in was of the era when her great grandfather had originally defeated him. As she finally began descending the stairs, she found it impossible not to give a small smile. After all, Alucard did nothing without true purpose. He’d turned Seras so long ago “on a whim” he’d said, but Integra had suspected more. Over the decades she’d realized, Alucard had longed for death, but could not bear to leave Integra alone. So, even if he’d not been fully conscious of the decision he’d created her a new servant and guardian. Though she very much knew precisely what he’d done.  And now, in their first non-Organization related appearance together since she’d become his queen, he’d chosen their attire from the era when their destinies had been written into the stars. How fitting.

Drawing near the last few steps, she watched as he offered her his hand with a truly conceited grin. Integra accepted and came to stand before him, finding it difficult to keep from smiling like a loon back at him.

“You are enchanting, my Queen,” he said softly, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing each finger without taking his eyes from hers. “Our time at this party maybe very limited, as I find my patience for sharing you with others has suddenly been put on a timer at the vision of your beauty.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted this exhibitionism?” she asked coyly, trying to ignore the tingling sensation his lips inspired on her skin.

Pulling her against his chest with one hand in the small of her back and forcing her to look up at him, his smile was still present, but there was fire in his gaze. “I have been wrong before.” He leaned down, brushing his lips to hers, and just as Integra felt the weakness in her knees start to return, the moment was shattered by a giggle from Seras around the corner. Almost immediately followed by the doorbell and Moira calling, “That’s the first of our guests!” as the druidess ran to the door from where she had also been just around the corner with Seras.

Before Integra could get properly angry about the intrusion, Alucard placed a heated kiss over the pulse at her neck. “To be continued,” he purred.

*

As the night wore on, there was much singing, dancing and fun to be had on the part of Hellsing agents and members of the Convention in attendance. It seemed Moira’s intuition that the souls who protected England from the Supernatural that would threaten her were in fact in need of a release.

The wine flowed, and Seras flit from conversation to conversation. They were her men, her teams as she had trained them, and they loved her for it. She knew every name, every face, who was married, who had children, who had suffered loss and who could hold their drink. Moira and Ander were an ever present shadow to the party, making certain that there was always enough food and beverage, and that everything went smoothly, while finding time to have a few dances together as husband and wife.

In the ballroom, there was food, wine and other spirits sent up next to a festively decorated table with candy, and party favors for the guests to take home. Seeing it for the first time, Integra was baffled as to how Moira and Seras had managed to come in under budget, but she’d seen the receipts and knew that they had. Additionally, there was an empty table set up and remained as much all night, full of food, favors and full table settings. It was the Dumb-supper for the Honored Dead, where they could partake of the offered food and gifts in symbolic and literal 'sacrifice'. While she was unable to discern if there were other visitors, Integra could feel, could even see, that Anderson and Walter sat there all evening, eating (which was a strange spectacle of specter food and wine) and watching the party goers.

Integra observed all of this from her seat at the edge of the room. She’d mingled a bit, as expected, and danced twice with Alucard. It had been strange, as each time anyone else dancing had given them space, and at the end they’d been met with applause from the gathered souls. Integra was unused to being the center of this kind of attention, and found that while she did not love it, she also did not detest it as long as Alucard was at her side.

But now the guests were going home, Seras helping Moira and Ander see people to the door, and clean up as they went.

The sun was nearing the horizon, and after a full evening of socialization and genial scrutiny from her peers, Integra was exhausted. She also did not feel like traipsing to the basement to sleep in her coffin. She’d accepted that Alucard and Seras were right - it could be very peaceful. When possessed of heightened senses, the dark and quiet of the coffin was pleasant at times.

She was not, however, in preference of it, and had genuinely apologized to Seras for getting rid of her bed all those years ago.

Realizing she was being watched, Integra cut her eyes to Alucard. He lounged next to her in his chair, where she had leaned over against his side as the last guest was shown out. His arm draped around her shoulders without upsetting the black feathered wings of her costume, she chuckled up at him. “What?”

Your thoughts are a hurricane. I am making a game of trying to follow them.

Would you be opposed to sleeping upstairs with me tonight?   She asked point blank.

Alucard just grinned and leaned in to kiss her temple. I am not opposed to sleeping anywhere, as long as you are there.

She tried to think of a scathing and sarcastic remark like “Even the surface of the sun?”, but she was too tired. Then let us retire.

In the blink of an eye and the briefest rushing of shadow, Integra found herself sitting on her bed, much as she had been in the chair downstairs. Alucard grinned as he stood and pulled her with him, beginning to disrobe. “I wonder,” she said softly as she stood with him, “If I will one day be able to travel as you do.”

“You are my child,” he smirked, loosening the tie of her wings and setting them aside, “It seems likely that you will be able to achieve any of my abilities to which you set your mind.” Reaching up to unpin her halo, Integra let Alucard turn her gently to face away, so that he could unzip her dress. Placing a salacious kiss on her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her against him as the garment fell from her shoulders. “I look forward to seeing what greatness you achieve.”

“Let us work on it tomorrow,” she said matter-of-factly, despite her tired tone. She turned back to look at him as she noted his clothes were already gone.

“As you wish, my queen.”

She led him to the bed without breaking the circle of his embrace, and tugged him down with her as she crawled between the sheets. “Was tonight everything that you wanted, Count?” she asked, rolling to face him and giving him a confident smirk.

“Nearly.”

She had no time to question, before he embraced her and covered her mouth with his in a passionate kiss. She’d felt it all evening, what he’d claimed was his "patience timer" running slowly down to non-existent. Now, she was his alone once more, and his hands roamed her skin possessively. Legs twining, his desire was undeniable against her thigh. Just that touch, and the knowledge of his intent even without reading his mind was enough to give her a second wind before rest for the day.

She reached between them, lips and tongue dancing hungrily with his and never breaking their kiss, as her fingers caressed and then gripped him. The purely male sound of arousal that action drew from him sent goosebumps over her flesh and stoked the heat of her own desire. In return, his long, nimble fingers slipped within her warmth and began to coax her to climax. It was astonishing how easily he could draw such things from her - touching her so intimately, with a simple nip of her neck, or caress of her breasts and she was undone. Tonight was no different.  But then despite her lack of enthusiasm for the party, not only had she enjoyed herself but the last few hours had been a sort of foreplay for them, hadn’t it? Alucard flaunting his achievement in Integra’s vampiric state. Integra testing social boundaries with the fact they were clearly more than Master and servant, or ‘coworkers’ now. Each time a sly glance, or smile to the other challenging the game forward.

Yes, that was much of the reason he so easily pushed her to ecstasy tonight; she was his, and he was hers and now the world was starting to learn the full measure of that. Come what may, her No Life King had made her his Queen.

In the moment she came and cried out, back arching in the mind shattering pleasure, Alucard thrust himself within her. It was perfection. His face buried against her neck, arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close, the moment of climax did not stop for a time as he made love to her. He whispered against her ear sweet poetry in Romanian, most of which she understood. But it didn’t matter if she understood the words themselves - it was the lips and heart from which the words fell that mattered. Legs wrapping about  his waist, she let every cry, mewl, and gasp fall against his ears without repression. Let the countryside hear her for all she cared, she’d waited more than forty years for her beloved Count to be her lover. At the very least, she wanted him to have the satisfaction of knowing just how masterfully he shattered her resolve.

His thrusts coming ever faster, he roared with climax when it struck him and did not stop until his flesh was soft and useless. He clung to her, shuddering in pleasure and if she didn’t know any better she’d have said he was purring. Integra combed fingers back through his hair as she opened her mind to him and let her love, appreciation and ever-burning lust for him pour forth. She wasn’t certain how to verbalize it best, so she chose to merely let him feel it. In return, from him she felt smug pride that she would love him, and when he let his emotions pour into her, she was not prepared. As though the very sea were trying to fill her, Alucard’s affection was fiercely protective, loyal, possessive but all tempered with a deep respect. He loved her in a way that no mortal man could ever fathom, and it was everything.

Collapsing atop Integra, he peppered kisses over her neck and jawline whilst she wrapped arms and legs around him to hold him close. Was it worth it, my Queen?

The party? She managed incredulously through telepathy.

The wait, he rumbled. The sacrifice.

Ah. That wait. The decades spent alone as hope slowly dwindled within her. The sacrifice of never having a family, or continuing the Hellsing name. All the things she’d done, given, shed or discarded in her life that had led her to this moment.

I would do it again, a thousand times… my king. Even watching London burn, losing my eye and dying, a thousand times over, if it landed me here, like this, with you in this moment. Kissing his forehead, she ran fingers through his hair, fighting against sleep to draw out the night as long as she could.

Chapter 12 - ...And Knitteh Him Ere He Have Done

In the weeks following the attack on the Vatican, there was quite a bit of paperwork to do. Damage reports, though less than had something happened in the past when Alucard was involved. Official statements, reports and letters filed through numerous channels, all the while the news coverage on the television and internet showing the footage of Selber being destroyed outside the cathedral from all angles. Heinkel and Seras became odd celebrities for a while, having fought publicly in defense of St. Peter’s Basilica.

Seras didn’t leave the manor for the duration, the one time she had she’d been mobbed by reporters and bloggers with camera phones. Since they’d been trying to sneak on the property ever since that encounter, Integra had finally agreed to start interviewing for Poppy’s replacement. That had seemed to grate on her nerves even more than all the paperwork over the Vatican incident.

Having taken Ander and Moira’s words and observations to heart, Integra had also been spending a not-insignificant amount of time pouring over her family’s old alchemical journals and reacquainting herself with what she knew and furthering her education on such things. She even managed to find a spell that gave Anderson and Walter a means of manifesting… when she allowed it. It amused Alucard greatly that she allowed Anderson to be manifest longer than the old Butler, and even further than he was the spirit of her gun. Ironically it was Father Anderson-ghost (as Alucard insisted on calling him of late), who made the suggestion that ended up solving the head of staff issue, and brought in a new maid and groundskeeper.

Eventually the dust settled and the news and internet moved on, Hellsing and Section XIII fading into recent memory and despite the tense silence from Makube and the Vatican after a displeased ‘official’ thank you, most everything was back to what passed for normal in Alucard’s eyes.

He watched from not-in-the-room as Integra instructed the younger knights of the Convention of Twelve in archery. She had become very good at divorcing herself from the hunger, which came as no surprise to the Vampire King. What shouldn’t have been a surprise either, but had been, was her flat refusal to drink living blood. After Seras, he should have expected as much. Integra was far, far more stubborn than Seras could ever be and it had taken great lengths to get Seras to do as much, and she’d not since.

Though it pulled an internal sigh from him, Alucard knew one day there would be reason and call for Integra to become a full vampire in her full power. Until then, she had her alchemy and her illusion of humanity.

But then… wasn’t that what he adored about her?

Even in her most bloodthirsty moments in life, she’d acted with honor and humanity where she could. Though he bubbled with excitement to see what she would become, what she could do, for now it was a masochistically beautiful thing to watch.

When the knights had gone and Integra was in her office wrapping up business for the evening, Alucard actually wandered the halls waiting, grinning up smugly at the paintings of the Hellsing family. He stopped in front of Abraham VanHelsing and his grin spread widely. “You know old man,” he said aloud but softly, “Seems a number of souls have been hanging around of late. I hope you’re around somewhere so that you can hear me. I told you once that you could not defeat me… but you did. In a way. I hated you. A part of me still does. You took everything from me, as was the pattern of my existence. I hated you more for perpetuating that cycle.

“And yet here we are. I am more than I have ever been… thanks to my enemies and her . Your granddaughter.” His smile was not entirely natural anymore. “I hope it chafes you. Grates your very soul that she allowed me to claim her. To save her. To reweave her in darkness to be the beautiful fallen angel she is and will ever be. I want it to burn you. But… I also want to thank you. If not for your victory, your bindings, your triumph over the monster I was, I would not be the monster I am. I would not have her. And she, is everything.”

“You make a habit o’ talk’ ta paintings?” a voice that was becoming familiar asked. Alucard cut his glowing eyes in the direction from which it had come.

The new head of Manor staff stood with her arms crossed and smirking in the crisp traditional maid’s attire that had been agreed upon to maintain appearances. Hair dyed black, the No Life King was not entirely convinced it was a good idea, but he’d agreed that despite Seras’s argument that people would notice, it was unlikely anyone would after such a public execution. And if Makube and Section XIII came to visit and thought they were seeing ghosts, all the better.

“Do you make a habit of eavesdropping on another man’s conversation with the dead?” Alucard smirked at Moira Reid.

“Actually, yes,” she laughed. “But then I also have those conversations, so I suppose I shouldn’t judge.” Waving a dismissive hand, she turned to leave. Now officially on the Organization’s payroll, as was her husband the new groundskeeper, Alucard’s laughter followed her. They were truly a house of family and monsters now.

Alucard , Integra’s unamused voice said to his mind, I’m done. You said you had something you wanted to discuss. If it is business, you have ten minutes before I pick up my wine and book for the evening.

With a thought, he turned and was in her chambers where he knew her to be, dismissing his hat and coat, but making a point of taking off his gloves as she looked up from where she was already sitting in her chair by the fireplace. “You summoned me?” he purred as he dropped his gloves and took a knee in front of her. Her whole life he’d done so, but in subservience. Now, it was to lay his cheek on her knee and look up to observe how the moon illuminated her hair from the window behind.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Despite her cool expression, he felt her fingers begin petting his hair. “I did… but you were the one with something to talk about.”

He just smiled. “Dance with me?”

That earned him a soft sigh. “Is it necessary? I just sat down…”

“Please?”

As if his hair had turned pink, Integra’s eyebrows flew up at the uncharacteristic request. “That word did not burn your tongue to utter? What strange nights in which we live.” She was standing with the last however, her own jacket and gloves discarded as she allowed herself to be pulled into a waltz with no music.  Expression softening as she recalled the last time they’d waltzed together, she inclined her head. “Am I ever going to know what you wanted?”

“Would you agree that as the King and Queen of the night, that a religious ceremony would be an utter farce? And, seeing as that we are both, but specifically I am legally dead, anything involving bindings of the law would also be a pointless waste of time?”

Her keen blue eyes narrowed as the gears spun rapidly, trying to see where he was going with this line of conversation. He listened to her thoughts to see her nail it immediately, then discard the idea as foolish. After another moment of accepting her first idea was probably right but not why, she answered. “I would agree with those assessments, yes.”

He smiled, drawing her out until he felt the sting of actual annoyance begin to rise within her. “Then what gesture would you require from me, symbolically, as a token representation of our union?”

One eyebrow arching as he spun her gracefully, Integra sighed. “I require nothing of the sort,” she stated firmly. “I feel that my being here is token enough. After all, my grandfather called your fledglings your Brides, once upon a time. I doubt you and I are the only ones who have such associations.”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled and pulled her against his chest. “But none before have been my No Life Queen.” Pausing for dramatic effect and leaning down to brush his nose to hers with a self-assured grin, “None before, and no others after. Only you, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.”

She held her expression level and cool, but her cheeks pinked and he felt her heart skip in her chest. “Fine,” she sighed. “I will think on it and get back to you. Acceptable?”

He just grinned wider in the moonlight and nodded. “I can think of at least one place to start,” he rumbled and gathered her hands, moving them to the knot of his ascot. At that , she finally grinned back to him. Undoing the knot, she pulled it off and began undoing the buttons of his shirt slowly before leaning up for a kiss.

If this is where we start, I think I might take my time coming up with an answer , her voice in his mind pleased and amused.

Chapter 11 - The Serpent of Arabia

In the Catacombs beneath the Basilica, hundreds of hearts beat rapidly in fear. Loud as drums to the ears of those who knew how to listen.

Makube paced the largest chamber that held the most people, his phone dead and unaware help had arrived. His assistant sat near, as if waiting for an order that would do any good, while men, women and children - tourists, employees of the church and tours, nuns, priests, alter boys, a few members of the Iscariot that were known, and members of the other secret orders- sat side by side on old, dust covered pews amongst the dead. The black portals in the walls filled with remains of saints and the devout added to the gravity of the scene, and did nothing but keep everyone on edge.

Of course most knew of the crypts, Integra was fairly certain some of it at least was on the public tours. But these were not those. These were further below ground, showing the level to which the unexpected attacks had struck fear in those present and in charge. Enough that the Iscariot had burned a secret to protect the people of the Church.

But then… that had been the purpose, hadn’t it?

As Integra watched, other members of the Vatican’s Orders were coming back from patrol, and others to duty. Arm bands with Roman numerals, I through XIII could be seen, confirming a few of Integra’s suspicions about the number of Orders the Vatican employed.

That would wait for another day. Her quarry was moving.

Waiting for the nun wearing the XIII armband of the Iscariot to leave on patrol, Integra reached out from her shadow and grabbed Makube’s arm, pulling him back quickly and silencing him with a hand over his mouth. He startled, but saw her fast enough she she could release him and put a gloved finger to her lips. Pointing after the nun, she nodded.

Glancing over his shoulder, Makube frowned but he quickly realized what he was being told. That was the mole. Giving her a confused and quizzical look as to how she’d found this out, Integra just smiled and disappeared once more into shadow.

***

The nun strode down the corridors with quiet, but rapid steps. She knew where she was going. She had what she needed, and she had to know. Centuries of planning had led to this day, and she was out of time. Hellsing had arrived.

Taking the stolen keys from her belt, Moira approached the final door at the end of the deepest hallway beneath the Vatican. The key slid in, but gave her a difficult turn. It had clearly not been opened in a very long time. As the door swung open into the pitch dark cell, she snapped her fingers and the candles high in the walls burst to life and light.

And there, chained to the wall and wrapped in an old, tattered robe, was Ander, her husband. He was far thinner than the last time she’d seen him, but he’d been fed. His hair was long, filthy, and his beard grizzled, but he looked up to her with a spark of hope.

“What took ye so long?” he asked in a dry, unused voice, but there was no bile to it.

She smiled beneath hot tears, and took a step towards him saying, “The bloody catholics are prolific-”

Knocked to the side of the cell and into the stone wall hard enough it stole her breath, a blessed, silver saber ran through Moira’s abdomen and buried in the stone wall behind her, pinning her. Actually surprised, the Druidess found herself staring into red vampiric eyes under white blonde hair.

Integra smiled back.

The man in chains struggled to stand, his hoarse voice attempting to yell at her about ‘getting away from his wife’, but Integra ignored him for the moment. He could not reach them and if he was strong enough for any Druid magicks in those heavy and warded chains she would be surprised. Releasing her hold on the saber, Integra stood and drew her gun, pointing it at the man without looking at him.

The Druidess gave Integra a wide eyed once over. “He is the Bird of Hermes, and you… The Serpent of Arabia is your name, the which is leader of all this game…”

“You know the Ripley Scroll.”

“I had to, to know you better.”

“State your peace, quickly.”

“This won’t kill me,” Moira laughed, coughing up some blood as she indicated the saber.

“I am aware. I am here to talk.”

Moira took a breath and dropped Integra’s now blue eyed gaze. “I have nothing more ta say.”

“You shoot a person, in their own home, leaving them to die, and when they come back from the dead, you have nothing to say?” Integra sneered. “Hardly what I would expect from someone with so many years under their belt.”

“Not every’bloody person is as chatty as yer boyo,” Moira chuckled, coughing blood again.

Integra paused. “That’s fair.” Keeping her gun trained on the man who’d given up his failed voice, she narrowed her eyes at Moira Reid. “If you’ve nothing to say, then just listen. I understand why you’ve done what you have. This imprisonment is wrong. However... “

“How else was I s’pposedta get here?!” she shouted, trying not to move or cut herself in half. Integra watched as the regenerator realized the position she’d been put in; stand and listen, or cut herself damn near in half to escape, giving Integra plenty of time to do… well anything. The Druidess sagged a touch as Integra’s smile grew wider.

“Do you think that in his weakened state, your husband will survive a blessed bullet to the head?”

“She’s bluffing, lass,” Ander wheezed. “She’ll drink us before she shoots us.”

“I killed her, love,” Moira said apologetically. “She’ll kill you and leave me here to rot before she touches us.”

“Your wife is very intuitive,” Integra said calmly. “And in this case, very right.”

“Hells, woman,” Ander groaned and sat down. “She’s a bloody Vampire Alchemist. What in the name of the Old Gods were ye thinking?”

“That she and her King were the only ones who could stop me.”

“She was thinking of you,” Integra added… and lowered her gun. “We have a score to settle, Reid. But there are larger problems at hand.” Hearing the sounds of many boots mobilizing, while Makube did not necessarily know where Integra and Moira the Iscariot mole had gone, it would not take him long to find them.

“I will be brief. I think you can glean from my current state a number of things,” Integra said coldly, “The important one being that if it were Alucard there in chains, I may very well have been the one pinned to the wall, as you are now. But your crimes cannot stand.”

“What’re ye proposing?” Moira asked, voice trembling.

“You have to send the Fae back. To Arcadia. I free you. Your husband, we go upstairs and aid Alucard in undoing what you have wrought by bringing The Hawthorne here. Then, before the Vatican, Makube, everyone, I behead you as Alucard aids your husband in escape. I collect your remains, take them back to England… and give them to your husband. Perhaps you survive. Perhaps you do not. But after that, I never see or hear from either of you ever again.”

Moira frowned. “That… is bloody merciful.”

“Well I’ve been having some odd conversations of late with… a higher power. How many innocent lives have you taken since this began, Reid? Or have you just let The Hawthorne and Selber do your dirty work while you played the pias nun?”

Moira swallowed roughly. “I have taken no life that was not deserved. I could not, not after your words. But their blood is still on my hands. I called the Fae.”

“That is for you and your Gods to sort out. But I am not your Judge or Jury. However in order for you to not be hunted by the Iscariot until the sun burns out of the sky, I will need to be your Executioner. Agree now, or the Iscariot will be upon you. Not us. I can merely step away.”

For a moment, Moira trembled. But Integra watched as she made the only choice she had to survive. “So be it, Alchemist.”

Integra holstered her gun. Now, Alucard.

In a blast of cold air and darkness that slammed the iron door shut to the cell, Alucard appeared, and snatched Ander from his bonds. Integra lunged forward and removed her saber from the wall and Moira, the regenerator healing almost immediately as she took Integra’s hand, Integra turning with the Druidess to grab on to Alucard, and in a cold wind of the void, they were gone.

When Makube arrived in the cell, having heard the door slam, the candles were extinguished, shackles empty and the dust dancing about the air, but otherwise no evidence of what had transpired.

“Chief Makube!” one of the young Iscariots called, skidding to a stop behind him. “What was in this cell?”

“I do not know,” Makube said honestly, frowning into the darkness, “But I feel that perhaps it was what brought this upon our heads.”

“Shall I find out sir? See what we’re looking for?”

Makube shook his head. “No. We will not find it.”

“But sir-”

“Spread out, agent. The mole may still be down here. Go!”

As the young agent ran off, something in Makube’s mind told him they would find nothing down here. He could only hope that Hellsing understood what they were doing, and had not just killed them all.

***

The Sanctuary of the Basilica thrummed with the buzzing of thousands of wings, reeking of death and caramel. Being in his newest state of omnipresence, it was as though Alucard had never left, but now had his Queen, and two… well more like one and a half, ancient Druids as backup. The Hawthorne, upsettingly, had tripled in size. Having devoured hundreds of his little copies, the nightmare Fae now stood hunched beneath the vaulted, arch ceilings of gold over them and cackling in a monsterous tone. “Four from one? The fun has now truly begun!” it cackled.

Alucard’s Iron bullets were striking and doing damage, as were Integra’s as they joined in symphony, but not enough. “Keep it busy,” Moira called as she darted off to the side and grabbed an ornamental golden dagger, “I need a few minutes.”

The security system and cameras are out, Count, Integra thought to him as she maintained suppression fire on the Hawthorne and his little pests. Verified in what I overheard downstairs.

How lovely, Alucard responded, and his laughter began to echo in the cavernous room. Suddenly, the Casull was gone, and Alucard was growing. The shadows coalesced around him, and his red hat and coat were replaced by the black leather and straps, the form Integra found him in as the Nosferatu, No Life King so long ago.

Shadow power rushing towards the Fae, The Hawthorne had the presence of mind to look upset for a moment, before dodging. The relics behind him were obliterated instead, and as Alucard gave chase, he smirked. “Oops.”

But the fae was fast, stepping in and out of what Alucard was learning from watching and sensing was called “The In Between”... a place that since he now knew it, he could also exist within. So, he did, and he followed… much to the upset of the Fae.

“You cannot escape, little bug,” the No Life King roared in joviality.

“Nor can I die!” Hawthorne shrieked. “Shall we dance here forever, King of Death? King of Shades? Now that you dance within my glades?”

“I need him on this side of the veil!” Moira shouted over the odd and unnatural wind kicked up by Alucard and The Hawthorne bouncing back and forth between layers of reality. She and Ander had cut their hands and were clearly performing some sort of right. Having drawn a circle in the blood on the floor, Integra saw through her long hair whipping about, and understood that the Fae would have to be in that circle.

Turning back to look up, she waited, watched, calculated and when she heard the barest whisper on the wind say, “Now, lass,” Integra leapt into the air with her supernatural strength, saber leading. She came into contact with The Hawthorne right as he passed through reality, and she skewered him, a strange greenish light flashing as she did so.

Using the momentum of her leap, she drove The Hawthorne down to the ground and directly into the center of the Druids’ circle, somersaulting out in the blink of an eye at the same moment Ander and Moira thrust two borrowed relic daggers down into the creature.

There was a tense moment where the wind stopped, The Hawthorn lay, eyes bulging but unmoving, the two Druids, Integra and Alucard where he towered over his queen and did not move… until in an explosion of rot, ash and shrieking agony, The Hawthorne was no more.

Alucard had moved one hand to shield Integra from the offal, shaking it off himself as he resumed his normal size, and red coat, ascot and black suit, minus the hat for the moment. Hellsing’s elite strode unblemished towards the druids, that were unfortunately covered in the black viscous of the Fae’s fate.

“Well. He won’t be back any time soon,” Moira said with mock chipperness.

“He’s not dead?” Integra asked flatly.

“Oh nay, lass. The Fae can only be killed in Arcadia, their Westerly Lands. Killed here just means they return there,” Ander was the one who answered, voice a touch better for the use.

“Makube comes,” Alucard stated, as if repressing a bored yawn.

Moira blinked up at him. “All that, an’ye be already bored again?”

Alucard smiled. “I’d love nothing more than to kill you. Shall I entertain myself?”

“That is enough,” Integra warned. “We have an accord. Alucard, tell Seras it is time to go, and take Ander somewhere else for a moment.”

“I look forward to the main event,” he purred, and with a lightning fast flick of his hand, he and Ander were gone.

On her knees, in the viscera from the Hawthorne, Moira watched Integra reclaim her sword as Chief Makube and the remaining Iscariot came rushing into the Basilica’s sanctuary. Most of them look truly horrified at the state of the place, but Makube’s keen gaze was on Integra and Moira.

“I saw him,” the Driudess said up to the Director of the Hellsing Organization. “Anderson, my grandson, when you struck The Hawthorne.”

Integra raised one eyebrow.

“Just a flash of light, but his spirit helped you strike. He’s on your side now, isn’t he?”

“For now.”

“Sir Hellsing,” Makube called starting to jog across the sanctuary as if he sensed what was coming, but Integra was already raising her sword. “We would like to-”

“Brace yourself,” Integra whispered.

“-Question the traitor-”

“If I die, it’s meant te be.”

Chapter 10 - Blood and Water

Packing went swiftly, as did getting to the airport. It was still fairly light outside, the flight time was going to be three and a half hours, so Integra had scheduled early. This meant she wore a hooded jacket, long and black, with sunglasses, and Seras and Alucard walked on either side of her to help shield and shadows any possibly exposed skin.

They had no issues in the airport, weapons and blood packs hidden in the special suitcase Integra had had made for Seras ten years or so before, and only once did they get an odd question about it, but Alucard chuckled and coached Integra through compelling the airport security check with her eyes. It worked, and after that there were no more issues.

While waiting to board, Integra let Makube know via text they were about to be in the air, but received no response.

With window shades down, Alucard coerced Integra to sleep on the flight while he and Seras kept watch. He didn’t ask, so much as he did talk to her mind until she was distracted and the exhaustion of the last few days took over. He’d even been subtle about it… of course had he not, it never would have worked.

Arriving in Rome wasn’t difficult, but the trek from the airport to Vatican city was a different matter. Between the typical traffic and the police state of the attacks, there was naught but gridlock twenty minutes out. Integra’s patience thinning, Alucard made an executive decision. Stopping the cab, they paid him and retrieved their things as Alucard pulled them into a deserted side street in the growing darkness.

Seras?

Yes, master?

Hold on to the luggage, and to me, he said telepathically as he pulled Integra against his chest firmly.

“Alucard, now is hardly the time-”

“You will want to hold on, Countess,” he purred, and when Integra realized that perhaps Seras was not giving a group hug merely because she was happy to be there, Alucard leaned down and kissed Integra with a grin.

He’d pulled her through shadows before, but not quite over such a distance. It was cold in the void between reality, Integra and Seras both holding to him tightly as Captain Bernadotte's voice could be heard whooping in delight over the speed at which they traveled.

When the rushing stopped they were just inside the barrier of the police blockade nearest the Basilica de San Pietro. Alucard smiled as Integra gave him a sharp look when their kiss ended, straightening her suit jacket and turning to handle the already shouting authorities.

“You know she might run out of patience with you for such things, master,” Seras grinned, taking a knee and starting to unpack and assemble her Harkonnen.

“Quite the opposite,” he chuckled looking out over the square littered with bodies, “I think she’s starting to get used to it.”

“Gasp, you mean soften?” Seras teased. “Stop the presses. Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing softening to the public displays of affection from her lifelong companion and recent lover? England would never recover.”

“Recent?” Alucard smirked widely and looked down at Seras, watching as her face blanked, thought a moment, and then blossomed into realization that they’d been lovers before his return.

You both DO know I can still HEAR you? Integra all but shouted at them mentally without pausing her conversation with the police.. This did nothing but bring peals of laughter from both her companions.

“I smell three werewolves, at least, Master.”

“Three living, two dead.”

“And Heinkel,” Seras sneered.

“Yes, it seems the Iscariot’s remaining Regenerator is holding the fort out here best she can.”

With a frown, Seras used her vampiric sight and senses to try and glean more information about the outside as Alucard seemed to be focusing more inside. “Two on the roof, and the little shit who was in our home is just sitting on the steps. Heinkel is healing…”

“The Fae is inside, in the main sanctuary. With more… lesser Fae. They’re… feeding.”

“Ew gross, feeding on what?”

“Flesh. And fear.”

Seras stuck out her tongue in a gagging mimic. “I know we drink blood, but dear god I am starting to hate the Fae.”

“I feel you will likely have them more before this is said and done,” Integra interjected as she approached. “The police understand the situation, and we are cleared to go in.”

“Did you hypnotise them?” Alucard smirked, cutting his eyes down to her without turning his head.

Integra bounced once on her heels, hands in her pockets and looked to the Basilica, not Alucard. “Perhaps a little. My Italian is rustier than I realized.”

“Sir, you speak Italian?” Seras as, impressed.

“I speak seven languages, Seras,” she stated flatly. “Italian, French, Romanian, Latin, German, Dutch and of course The King’s English.”

“The werewolf hasn’t spotted us,” Alucard rumbled. “But the Fae felt us arrive.”

“Well then,” Integra bent and collected her reforged saber, holstering her Sig-Sauer and cracking her neck. “It would be rude to keep him waiting.”

***

It was no small feat to get into the Basilica. Seras was able to take out one werewolf with a perfectly placed shot from her Harkonnen, but it was unfortunately not the one she wanted, the one from the Manor house. Seras and Pip’s job was to get Alucard and Integra inside, then join when she could. The first part of that had been fairly simple, providing cover and taking pot shots to waylay the werewolves long enough for her master and her boss to enter the cathedral.

But now, Seras was at an impasse. The wolves, two remaining, were circling in the shadows. Selber was the one from the manor - she’d heard his buddy shout it at one point. Her real dilemma was she only had one shot left, and she wasn’t sure who she wanted to use it on. Travelling certainly put a stranglehold on what ammunition she had available.

“I neffer thought I’d see the day,” a voice said from behind her. Seras didn’t bother to turn and look. She’d been having Pip keep an eye on Heinkel Wolfe the whole time they battled the weres. “Seras Ffictoria in Ffatican City. God does answer prayers.”

“Not the time, Wolfe,” Seras grumbled, dodging an attack as the Not-Selber wolf thought he might have a chance to strike if she was distracted. Unfortunately, she was not, and the decision of last bullet recipient was made. With a leap out of the path of the werewolf’s claws, she aimed, fired and landed as the werewolf transformed into fire and a grizzly paste and mist in the spot she’d once stood.

Landing gracefully next to Heinkel, she shouldered her Harkonnen and looked to her rival with an expression of neutrality. “I’m hoping you can set aside our little personal drama for long enough to reclaim Vatican City?”

Heinkel, face scarred and monstrous looking as her souvenir of the Battle of London so long ago, sneered and spit, looking to the remaining werewolf who had landed across St. Peter’s Square from them and was stalking forward with a smile (and earbuds in like this was a game for him). “For now.”

“You’re still wounded,” Seras said, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Iscariot Agent, presenting a united front against Selber. “You’re not healing right.”

“The She-Devil Wh-itch in wh-ite did something to me before she disappeared,” Wolfe growled. “I’m still healing… it just more slowly.”

“You underwent a rite, with Anderson, didn’t you?”

Heinkel’s eyes darted to Seras before back to their slowly approaching enemy. “Why?”

“Same rite that made him a Regenerator. Same rite that made Moira, the Lady in White, a Regenerator. It’s Druid magic… and she’s a Druid. If anyone could fuck with you on that, it’d be her.”

Heinkel was stunned to silence a moment, and Seras actually looked to the other woman. They hated each other - for reasons both good and selfish. But Seras… felt a kinship with the Iscariot agent on some level. They’d both survived London in 2000. They’d been there, they’d seen the horrors of Millennium.

“What do they want, Ffictoria?”

“To destroy the Vatican.”

That earned her a surprised look from under the bloodied wrappings on Heinkel’s face. “I meant what person or relic…”

“I know,” Seras nodded. “That’s why I told  you the truth.”

“I’m done vith this,” Selber said and bent at the waist, shifting into his large wolf form. “ Come on, bitchesss,” he growled around inhuman teeth,“Stahp eure hen pecking and spiele mit mir.”

With a look and nod to one another as their grudge match as formally set aside, Seras and Heinkel split in unison to divide and conquer. As Seras flew up into the air and summoned her shadow material into a blade, she heard Pip clear his throat. “You know Heinkel is going to try and kill you once the werewolf is dead, oui? ”

Seras just smiled. “I’d be disappointed if she didn’t.”

***

The sanctuary of the Basilica de san Pietro stank of rotten and molding fruit, and burned sugar… despite appearing to be empty. Well, empty of the living. There were corpses strewn about like a child’s discarded ragdolls. Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate, she thought to him, but then the real fun hit. Alucard watched as Integra nearly gagged at the smell of the fae, and they had to take a moment for him to coach her to focus and turn down her senses to tolerate it. He did all of this telepathically as they stayed hidden in a dark, shadowed corner for a moment… which was long enough to provoke the Fae to appear.

No longer in his modern suit, the Fae wore a Victorian fashioned waistcoat that appeared to be made of iridescent, charred leaves that trailed fine ash as he walked. The silver of his hair trailed at the tip of his ponytail into smoke, and his eyes burned like orange coals. “Where are you, Shadow-weaver, Soul-stealer?” The Hawthorne called, his footsteps leaving smoldering prints on the isle carpet, voice echoed by the faint buzzing of thousands of winged, stinging insects. “Shadow-weaver, Soul-Stealer, I am Fear… I know thee. Many fear you. You are the face of many nightmares. Back from the dead, back with his head… only to lose it for the princess. Tsk tsk…”

Integra stood perfectly still beside him un-breathing and silent as the shadow in which the observed the Fae- grey skin, hideously wide mouth curled at the corners, long pointed ears perked and listening as it stalked the sanctuary looking for Alucard. There were more fae there, obfuscated by Fae power from sight, but not from sound or smell. They were smaller, less powerful… child’s play, Alucard thought with a grin.

In the name of God please kill that thing, Integra sneered mentally.

I’m not sure as I can, Alucard admitted, as if this amused him. The Fae are the truly immortal… if there is such a thing. But, I do promise to try my best, and at least send it back to wherever it came from. Looking down to her, as she looked up to him, he raised an eyebrow. The mole of the Iscariot is with Makube. Can you feel it?

I can, she nodded.

Go. I will join you when I am done playing.

Integra leaned up, and Alucard acquiesced to her unspoken request with a silent, feather-light kiss. Don’t take long. I will need your assistance.

Only as long as is necessary, my Queen. And with that, Integra stepped through the shadows and was gone. Ahh, he smiled, what a wonderfully fast learner his beloved Queen had always been. Now to the task at hand.

The Hawthorne, as the chittering voices of the unseen fae nibbling at the corpses scattered about kept whispering, walked closer and closer and eventually passed where Alucard hid. For a creature of ancient experience, Alucard was unimpressed.

“You are not very powerful for one of the Ancients,” the Vampire King chuckled, throwing his voice around the room. The fool spun and looked around, unable to pinpoint the origin.

“I am more old than you could fathom, phantom. But low in my court, a pawn no more yet not a king. And hold, shall I bring back your head to Arcadia, your grin my crown shall be!” The Fae grinned widely and did a little spin of excitement. “End your miserable demon life, and claim my prize… perhaps take your she Devils for my whores…”

Stepping out of the shadows, Alucard was already growing bored with this. “I had so hoped you would be entertaining,” he rumbled, and The Hawthorne spun on him where he appeared. “But I see the druid summoned you because you were too weak to resist. And now… I tire of your stink.”

As Alucard opened fire, the Fae hissed, face elongating hideously with distended jaw, and hundreds of tiny quadrupedal… copies of the Hawthorne revealed themselves and leapt for the No Life King. Alucard just smiled. He didn’t have enough iron bullets for them all, so he was going to have to take out multiples with one bullet.

Chapter 9 - Quicken the Dead

“Guntree?” Integra said incredulously.

“No, GUMtree, sir! It’s like the UK’s version of American Craigslist!” Seras explained emphatically. Despite feigning disinterest where he sat aside Integra’s office desk with his feet upon it and kicked back in his chair, he was instead looking up this Gumtree and Craigslist instead of playing his game. Seemed like a place for murderers and rapists to lure foolish people into meeting in dark locations.

“I am not listing an ad for a butler or assistant, who might need be trusted with State Secrets, on a personal ads site known for sexual solicitations, mattresses with bed bugs, and entire collections of Pokemon cards for sale!” Integra swore, aghast that Seras would even suggest such a thing.

“You know what Pokemon is?” Alucard asked in genuine amusement.

“Asks the man who just discovered YouTube and Candy Crush,” she snapped.

“Touche.”

“Well then I’d like to hear your better ideas for a fast solution, since I believe you said our plane leaves tomorrow and we have no way of getting coffins to the airport, or ensuring our safe travel. Master and I can stand the sun. You, currently sir, cannot.”

“Have you always been this snarky, or am I just irritated?” Integra asked, narrowing her eyes at Seras.

“I’ve always been this way.”

“You’re hungry,” Alucard added.

“Hangry,” Seras grinned.

“Seras,” Alucard and Integra said in unison, though Integra snapped and Alucard chuckled.

With a growl and concession to their words, Integra leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Well coffins aren’t necessary. We take dirt in plastic bags, in our checked luggage. We’re vampires of the modern era, and while I’m sure that I will eventually get one for propriety’s sake, if it is not necessary, then in a pinch we need not waste time on it.”

“It’s nice. The quiet, I mean,” Seras said softly. “I still mostly sleep in my bed, but sometimes… it’s nice.”

“I prefer it,” Alucard offered unhelpfully, grinning over some of the ridiculous things he was finding on these sites. “To anything but your bed, Countess.”

“Master!” Seras giggled, “So forward!”

Integra needed to eat. Or she was going to knock their heads together and start screaming. Standing without a word and pushing her chair back in the process, it dinged into the stone wall behind her with force. She hadn’t meant to do that, but she’d never admit it as she stormed out and down the stairs to the fridge where there was some of the blood reserves.

Throwing a pouch in the microwave for a few seconds she heard Seras’s footfalls, and assume Alucard was coming too.

“You know going to Rome this soon is a poor idea,” his voice said directly behind her. Seemed he was already there.

“Did you find that on Gumtree?” she snarked without turning around.

He waited, saying nothing until the microwave beeped and she collected the warm blood, draining the pouch and letting it sooth her arching and irritable insides. Oh, she was still aggravated with them both, but it was not as… punchy a feeling.

“Better?”

“Slightly. You’re still being irritating.”

“That’s nothing new,” he grinned.

“Does the hunger ever stop?”

“No. It lessens. You learn how to exist in spite of it. Real, warm blood, blood of the living will ease it the most, but it never truly goes away. You did well in the Council meeting.”

Integra swallowed thickly. “Their heartbeats were so loud.”

“And yet, you appeared no differently than you ever have.” His tone was one of pride, as he dared to reach out and rest his hands at her waist.

She allowed it, finding comfort in the contact. Feeling her will buckle a little, Integra leaned forward and rest her forehead on his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then we should rest.”

“There’s too much to do.”

“It can wait,” he said and there was a firmness to his statement that she actually didn’t care to test. “Berger knows what to do. All we have to do is throw some things in a lead lined bag to hide weapons, and get on a plane. We don’t even really have to do that. We could always just let the Vatican burn.”

What a nice thought. Well it wasn’t nice, but it would certainly be understandable after their history both internationally and personally shared.

“I can’t do that.”

“You mean won’t.”

Her teeth ground together so hard her jaw popped. “Fine. I won’t do that. I will not sink to their level. To Maxwell’s level. That and…”

“Anderson saved you. Thirty years ago, in London. This isn’t just about vengeance.”

“...No. It’s not.”

“He’s dead.”

“And I never repaid the debt. Now, I can. Whether they want it, like it or not.”

“Hmph,” he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Then we will go.”

Looking up to him in disbelief, Integra frowned. “Seriously? Just like that.”

Alucard nodded over his grin. “You have always been an angel fallen from the flight of seraphim under Michael’s flaming sword, the choir of Justice. Perhaps fallen into the arms of The Devil Himself, but ever the little fiery soul of righteousness and the Just.” Cupping her face with one hand, his eyes were glowing in the dim light. “It is who you are. And right now, you need to be who you truly are so that it is not lost amidst the sea of bloodlust and darkness on which you currently sail.”

That earned him a sigh. “I’m really uncertain of what to do with all this poetry.”

You have always inspired it , he assured her, kissing down the side of her neck lasciviously.

Then why am I only now hearing it?

I kept it to myself.

Selfish.

Prudent. Perhaps the only prudent thing I ever managed in your lifetime.

Prudent? She snorted aloud, eyes closed and fallen victim to the spell of his lips on her skin. How was this deep dark secret of your poetry prudent?

Because you already wanted me. And I you. It was hard enough to wait this long…

“Oh for God’s sake,” she mumbled against his shoulder. But he was right, if he’d been so beautifully poetic to her in her youth? Well… it certainly would have made things harder than they’d already been. “You’re infuriating.”

“I try.”

A strangled squeak opened Integra’s eyes and drew her attention around Alucard’s arm to find Seras, peeking around the door into the kitchen making a pucker lip fish face. “Soooooo cuuuuute,” she squeaked.

“Seras,” Integra growled her name in warning.

“Sorry Sir!” Seras stood up straight and turned to leave, “I was just going to pack!” With that, the draculina marched out.

***

After another blood snack, Alucard had carried integra upstairs and the rest of the evening had been filled with passion and blood sharing. Now it was near dawn, and she lay nude, Alucard sprawled atop her presumably asleep from his stillness of mind and body. Running over her many plans in her mind, Integra drifted off as the sun rose outside the blackout drapes of both her windows and closed canopy bed.

But she dreamt.

It was a strange place, a garden she knew from childhood and a low flower maze. There, in a clearing sat whitewashed, iron table and chairs set for tea, with her favorite gun, the Sig-Sauer she’d had for forty years, polished and shining in the sun. From height and perspective, Integra looked to her hands to confirm that in this dream, she was a child again. No less than twelve, when she’d awaken Alucard, but a child no less.

With a step into the clearing, she smelled her favorite floral tea and saw that sliced on the plates set for three, was ripe, green, succulent looking… kiwi.

Looking around, Integra frowned at the garden. This was… odd at best.

“Well, your gun needed a spirit,” a familiar voice said from behind her. With a flip of her hair, Integra whipped around fast as a shot, retrieving her firearm in the process and pointing it, only to immediately lower the weapon.

“Walter?!”

He appeared as she had always known him, in his twilight years, distinguished and greying of hair, monocle perfectly seated and in his butler’s attire. He bowed respectfully with a small smile. “At your service, madame.”

“I felt you die.”

“And dead I am. But also here. It seems that all weapons of Hellsing’s elite have a spirit of sorts. You should ask Alucard and Ms. Seras about theirs some time.”

Integra’s eye twitched in disbelief. “You’re… the spirit of my… gun now?”

“Well, I did give it to you long ago, didn’t I? I suppose it was where the part of me not ready to rest went.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “I do not understand the greater mysteries of this world, Madame, only the truths I experience.”

“..Oooookayyyy…” Looking from her gun, to Walter, to her gun, then Walter once more, Integra found she was no longer a girl, but the woman she’d left sleeping in the bed next to Alucard. Holstering her Sig-Sauer, she deflated a bit. “You selfish bastard.”

“Yes,” he nodded, composed as ever in the same means he’d taught her to be.

“Did you hear me? Every time I screamed at you after you passed, you damn traitor?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she said and crossed her arms. “You deserved every vile word of it.”

“Indeed, madame.”

She looked at him a moment longer, and her heart twisted. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

He smiled. “And I you, madame. Would you like some tea? It’s your favorite.”

Deflating entirely, this was all too strange and yet… somehow she knew it was real in its way. “Yes. Please, join me. Who is the third place for?”

“I think it best he explain himself, madame,” Walter said, waiting for her to be seated and scooting in her chair for her before he sat in the chair to her right.

“Father?”

“Of a sort, lass,” another familiar voice said, but this one set chills down her spine. Appearing from the mists of the dream garden, Father Alexander Anderson appeared, instead of Arthur Hellsing.

Integra stared openly as the tall irishman sat in the chair that was honestly too small for him and picked up a slice of kiwi before sipping his tea. “This… is… no wonder Alucard seems mad,” she sad idly.

“Oh no, lass, your pet fruit bat is just as loony as ye think. Aye dinnea care how many years he self helped and silenced the voices inside o’him,” Anderson chuckled, “That little Romanian shit is nuttier than a Boxing Day Cheese ball.”

“Manners, Father,” Walter said flatly.

“Aye, aye, tis tea time afterall.”

Integra blinked three full times as Walter sipped his tea and Anderson ate kiwi slices before she could formulate a coherent thought. “What is happening right now?”

“Integra, you are a vampire,” Walter stated. “That means that the spirit of your gun is awakened in me, and that in so realizing, you have a different, heightened perception of the world.”

“Ye’ll get powers like your Fruit Bat boyfriend’s,” Anderson said around his chewing, “Like the little one did. But, like the little one can manifest her shadows differ’nt that ol’Alucard, yers will too.”

“In fact, as we have discovered,” Walter continued peacefully, “It seems that you have the ability… to reach out to the honored dead.”

Her eyes narrowed at Walter as she wasn’t sure he qualified, but neither was she certain the full nature of his demise. That and if he was the spirit of her gun, then perhaps that didn’t count. She did however cut her gaze to Anderson. “I called you here?”

“Well you called out for aid, over the three nights ye were changing, lass. I just happened ta be hover’n nearby.”

“That… is not exactly comforting, Anderson.”

“What? Ye never thought I’d be a Guardian angel sort?” he smiled and looked remarkably human and teddy-bear like. This must have been the face of the man that ran an orphanage. Not the man she’d ever met.

“Not near me or mine, to be sure.”

“Oh trust, lass- ye weren’t te only one awaiting ol’Fruit Bat’s comeback tour. Imagine my surprise when I'm wait'n ta see what boyo does and Makube shows up two days in a row to ye’r house! Then a lady, who I am fairly certain that I’ve not only seen before a very long time ago… but I think she might be my grandmother shoots yer arse?!” The father chuckled and shook his head. "More excite'n than old times, nearly."

Having decided to sip her tea at possibly the worst time, Integra choked at that. “Anderson, that’s impossible. That woman is more than a thousand years old.”

Anderson and Walter shared a look. “But not a vampire,” Walter stated. It wasn’t a question.

“No, a Druid regenerator from the 9th century. 10th, maybe, I’m not entirely certain, I didn’t ask.”

“Aye lass, maybe even older - she did'nay give you a date, now did her? Vampires are dead. Can’t procreate. Regenerators are still alive…”

Realization dawned. Just because Moira was at least thousand years old, didn’t mean her progeny was. “How old were you, Anderson?”

“By my reckoning, and I dinnea remember the exact year lass, keep in mind- but I came to the orphanage in which I was raised when The Tudors were stake’n their claim in old Érenn.”

Integra damn near dropped her teacup, and even Walter looked impressed. “Anderson, The Tudors waged their conquest of Ireland in the 1560s.”

“Aye, it was a few years after that.”

“And you were…? “Oh six, seven years, maybe?”

With Integra’s composure cracking a moment as her jaw hung open, Walter cleared his throat. “That… would make you Nearly as old-”

“As Alucard himself,” Anderson finished with a smile. “Aye. Your boyo Fruit Batty isn’t the oldest thing in the hemisphere. Hell I dinnea think me gran is fer that matter, I see she’s trucking with a Faery now.”

“Why… are you here, Anderson?” Integra asked, cutting to the chase. This was getting too strange. She would need to go away, process, discuss possibly, and perhaps come back to this in a few days.

“Ta help lass. And ye’r gonta need it.” He sipped tea from the small teacup in the tiny chair looking oversized and like an adult at a child’s table despite Integra and Walter being perfectly proportional to the furniture.

“Am I?”

“You’re still a wet behind the ears lil'fruit bat. Just trust that when you need me, I’ll be there.”

“I’m doing this to repay my debt to you,” she added flatly. “Not to incur more debt.”

“The dead have no debts, lass,” he sighed. “Ye’r doing this cause you feel compelled ta do the right thing. Which I support, regardless of my opinions of your methods... look how I went out. Not much one ta judge after that I feel.” He sighed. “Well, time fer ye ta wake up now lass. Kick ol’Fruit Bat for me, won’t ye?

“Farewell for now, madame,” Walter’s voice said as the dream began to fade, and Integra woke once more with the taste of kiwi lingering in her mouth.

Alucard was raised over her on his elbows, looking concerned with narrowed eyes. “You were dreaming…”

“Does your gun have a spirit? The Casull?” she asked not entirely awake.

He blinked at her. “That kind of dream, eh?”

Chapter 8 - The Red Stone

Striding down the familiar hall of the Convention’s Inner Sanctum, Integra felt the first tingles of nervousness. It wasn’t misgiving- no. She did not regret her choice and knew that regardless of her standing or results of this meeting, and she, Seras and Alucard would continue the work her great grandfather had started. It would merely be a question of how and where they would be operating.

Hands on the double doors, she paused. This was the first tangible evidence that things were forever different. That she was about to leave everything that was not Alucard or Seras behind.

Alucard stepped in close to her shoulder, though he looked straight ahead at the door. He wouldn’t insult her with empty platitudes, but he also felt the gravity of the moment for her. Seras reached out a hand to Integra’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Sir,” she said softly, “We’re all in this together. No matter the outcome.”

With a deep breath in through her nose that she didn’t necessarily need, Integra nodded and pulled open the doors without a word. The Convention of Twelve was as they had ever been these days, seated in their assigned chairs, and all eyes turned to her as she entered the room. But tonight, the trepidatious looks were not for Alucard. They were for her.

Murmurs started the moment she walked in, and Integra strode forward with her head held high to take her seat. Sir Penwood sat directly across from her, but instead of looking nervous or whispering with his compatriots, he met her eyes bravely and nodded.

“I am glad to see the assassination didn’t take, Sir Hellsing.”

At that, Integra smiled. “Thank you, Sir Penwood. I assure you, I am as well.”

“Sir Hellsing,” the voice of the king came from his seat at the dais near the table, “Come forward.”

He’d caught her before she’d sat down, but she’d been in the process. Making a graceful reverse of movement, she stepped around her chair and came up to the dais, dropping her eyes and taking a knee as was expected. Alucard to her right also took a knee, and Seras to her left the same. When the hand and ring of the king came into her view, she took it wit a glove hand and kissed the ring as was tradition.

“How do you feel, Sir Hellsing?” William’s voice was not that of the forty-eight year old man she knew him to be, but instead a younger soul. Unlike his father, he carried the youthful spirit of his grandmother Queen Elizabeth II, God rest her soul.

“I feel more myself than I have in years, Your Majesty,” she answered honestly. “And grateful to not be in the ground as our enemies would have sought.”

“As are we,” he said warmly. “This is Alucard?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. My deepest regrets for not being able to introduce you before now.”

“We understand. Timing, is as ever, a problem where King and Country are concerned. We feel you have no guilt in this.”

“Thank you, Majesty.”

“Tell us, what are your plans going forward?”

“As they have ever been, Majesty. To serve the crown in the eradication of supernatural threats to the Kingdom, in service to God and King. We will not give up and despair, We are on a mission from God.”

The rustle of his clothes told her with her heightened hearing that he nodded, despite being unable to see it. “And this… situation with the Vatican. Are these the same threats you spoke to the Council of a few days ago involved in the incident in Scotland?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The same that attacked me in Hellsing Manor under the guise of peace.”

“Do you plan to lend the Vatican aid?”

“If your Majesty sanctions as much.”

“Do you believe them to be a threat to England and her people?”

Thinking about it honestly, if she said yes he might give her clearance to do so and she could have her vengeance sanctioned. But… “I do not know, Majesty. They seem very focused on the crimes committed generations ago by specifically the Catholic Church. I do know that they care not for the innocent lives within, that they plan to slaughter indiscriminately anyone they feel is allied with the Vatican, and I do not know if they will stop at Rome. The Iscariot Division Section XIII does not have the numbers or power they once did, thanks to Millennium in 2000. I do not know as they will be able to contain the conflict, nor where it will spread.”

The King was quiet a moment, crossing his legs, and steepling his fingers in thought. “Sir Alucard.”

“Yes, Majesty?” Alucard’s deep voice echoed slightly, amused to be called on.

“Rise, and come forward.”

Doing as he was bade, Integra felt his amusement radiating from him and she knew what garish, pink heart framed images were flashing in his mind. She smirked where it could not be seen, but silently prayed that Alucard said nothing to get them thrown in the Tower of London as it’s first prisoner in centuries.

“By God,” King William said in amusement, “You have not changed. You look precisely as Grandmother described. She was very fond of you, you know.”

“And I of her, Majesty. Your grandmother was a woman of great cunning, cleverness and conviction.”

“What guarantees do we have that with the change in your master, Hellsing Organization will continue to operate as it has?”

“And not devolve into a madhouse of Monsters?” Alucard chuckled, causing Seras to roll her eyes and deflate thinking this was it, they were doomed. Integra stared intensely at the floor, not daring to speak to his mind but impressing a sense of caution to her lover. “With the utmost respect owed your grandmother, as I have not yet had the pleasure of getting to know you, nor did I know your father, I answer with another question; What would Queen Elizabeth have believed? That Integra, before of after her change would truly change, or that she would serve devoutely until such time as England no longer needed her? Because I know the answer. Do you?”

William thought on it a moment. “We understand your point. You may resume your master’s side.” Waiting for Alucard to take knee next to Integra again, William then called for Integra to stand. When she did, he took in her appearance fully for the first time. Seeing the years washed away from her face, the pain gone from her posture and the fire returned to her eyes, he smiled. “You look like you feel better than the entire time I’ve known you.” She noticed he’d dropped the royal ‘we’. “I like you, Integra. My father didn’t understand you, but he trusted you. My grandmother went on at great length about your grandfather, you father, and the steel-eyed little girl who became England’s savior. She adored and trusted you… and for that, I will extend my trust in addition to our shared experience. Give the Crown no reason to believe that Hellsing Organization will operate any differently than it has, and the Crown will continue to support your work, and this Convention.”

Bending deeply at the waist in gratitude, Integra damn near wept in relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will endeavor to prove your faith not ill-placed.”

“Rise, and take your place at the table.”

She did so, Alucard and Seras following to take their places at her side, Seras and Integra maintaining composure, as Alucard grinned like the Devil.

“Welcome back, Sir Hellsing,” Penwood smirked.

“It is good to be back,” she smiled back.

“Onto the matter of The Vatican,” Sir Irons cleared his throat. “England cannot afford resources for a counter terrorist attack in another country, let alone on a religous sect not the state religion.”

“I do not think national resources will be necessary,” Integra said, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. “While not what they once were, my personal funds can be easily utilized for plane tickets.”

“For how many?” One of the other knights asked.

“Three.”

“You three?”

“Yes. While our troops are indeed well trained and prepared, they are trained to protect England, and are needed here.”

“If you go with your… lieutenants,” Sir Penwood said carefully, “Who will run Hellsing in your absence?”

“Captain Fitz Berger,” she answered confidently. “He has been with the organization since 2000.”

“The ex-mercenary?” Sir Walsh asked.

“The youngest surviving member of the Wild Geese, yes. He has been the head of security since the rebuild after The Battle of London, and I trust the Organization in his hands for the duration.”

Chapter 7 - A Holy War

Integra stared at the television, arms crossed and sitting into one hip as she took in the images before her. Seras was still vibrating in her peripheral vision, her friend’s relief and excitement to have Integra not only still walking around but “on the team” as the once police woman had stated was tangible. She’d only just gotten the younger woman to stop hugging her long enough to watch the news.

The attacks on the Vatican had started the night Integra had died.

Phone in hand, she was already calling Makube.

Alucard stood at her shoulder, utterly disinterested and watching something on the phone Seras had acquired for him in the last few days. She could feel his lack of care over the fate of the Iscariot, or their attackers as there was no doubt in any present mind, including Captain Bernadotte, who was reaping havoc in Rome.

The other end of the call picked up, Makube’s voice a touch strained as he said, “Your timing is a tad off.”

“Being shot by the people currently ruining your life can have that effect,” she answered coolly.

Makube was silent a moment. “I see. I am hoping with such an intimate experience you can shed some light?”

“An ancient Druid, slighted by the church over a thousand years ago, a true Fae and a Werewolf leftover from Millennium. Is this where I wish you best of luck and carry on about my business?”

“The… Druids…” Makube had the decency to sound genuinely shocked. “ Mio Dio , surely not…”

“She’s a regenerator. I would wager the bullet Alucard put between her eyes three days ago did little more than give her a headache. It seems… Anderson was a descendant of hers.”

“Spoiling all the surprises is no fun,” Alucard rumbled next to her where he was entrenched in some brightly colored candy themed game on his phone now.

“This… is news to me,” Makube rumbled unhappily. “I have never known anyone to know anything about Anderson’s origin. He had… just always been there. Always been head of his orphanage, always been the secret weapon of Section XIII.”

Integra snorted. “It seems likely to me that no one knew because those who once did had since died, and Anderson never shared, or he himself never knew. I also highly doubt that the Druid will sit down and share the story over tea. She was rather… dedicated to her crusade.”

“There are women and children here,” Makube said, the edge of pleading to his voice.

“I am aware. She shot me because I refused to let her wage her war uninterrupted if she could not guarantee me the lives of innocents would be spared. She could not, and now here we are.”

As if something had just occurred to him, Makube was quite. “She shot you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To waylay Hellsing’s involvement. You see this is the first chance I have had to call.”

He wanted to ask. She could feel over the phone he was already making assumptions, likely correct ones. Well. At least the Convention of Twelve had already been informed. It seemed when those knights of the round had come for their weekly training, they had cornered Seras for information, and she had been honest. It grated that Integra had not been able to inform them herself, but one had little control over such affairs while technically, legally dead. The matter was being taken before the King, and she expected a summons at any time to decide the fate of the Hellsing Organization as it stood.

And yet she smiled at the idea of the Iscariot weighing the decision to ask for aid from the transformed enemy, or clutch their ideals to the death of their own organization.

“How soon can you be here?” Makube asked, finally.

“How Long can you hold them at bay?”

He grunted. “Many lives have already been lost, but our vaults house many of the innocents, and the Pope. The attackers are currently entangled with the mortal authorities, and with your additional information, we should be able to reinforce the old wards against their… magicks.”

“I need to speak with the King. Hopefully no more than twenty-four hours. However, I may be coming as a personal favor, and not as an official of the British government.” She raised an eyebrow at Seras’s gasp, as if the draculina had not considered that this could happen until now. “Of course, official or not, I have a personal vendetta to see to with these people. So, we will be there hell or high water.”

“I see,” Makube said in disdain. Yes, he’d put the pieces together. Ah well, he’d never really liked her anyway. This was not a loss she would mourn. “Please keep me informed. I am not certain how long our generators and cell repeaters down here in the catacomb will hold out. But hopefully at least twenty-four hours.”

“Personal issues aside, Chief Makube,” she said sincerely, “Godspeed. You are all that stands between those people and the darkness that would end them. I wish you luck, and hope that your faith perseveres in this trial.”

He was silent a moment, but she heard him sigh. “Thank you, Sir Hellsing. Personal issues aside, I hope that I will see you soon. God has not historically had the manifest hand these people need right now.”

Repressing a smile to keep it from her voice, Integra managed to only smirk. “Survive.” It was the last thing she said before ending the call.

“We’re… not really going to help them, are we?” Seras pouted. “The Iscariot? Really?”

“We are not doing anything for the reason of helping the Iscariot,” Integra said, eyes glued still to the fires and police state of the Vatican on the screen in front of her, where an unseen force taking out police officers was likely the young werewolf, if she had her guess. “We are going to lend aid to forces that seek to preserve innocent lives, as we are the only ones equipped to aid.”

“ Are we? ” Pip asked, manifesting next to Seras with crossed arms. This actually made Alucard look up from his phone. He’d apparently not seen this phenomenon since his return. “ Je suis désolé, but I have not the first clue how to fight the Fae. Especially ones who can disparaître at will. ”

“Iron. Bullets, cages, shackles,” Alucard said, looking Bernadotte up and down.

“I thought it was cold iron?” Seras asked. “What’s the difference?”

“Poetry,” Integra snorted. “Literally nothing in reality. Like saying the “cold steel of my blade”, “cold” iron is just iron.”

“So iron bullets and blessed silver for the werewolf… but what about Moira?” Seras winced to even say her name.

“Persistence,” Alucard smiled widely. “If I can give you the killing blow, my Queen, I shall.”

But Integra wasn’t so certain. Her intuition had been trying to tell her something, something new since she’d been watching the television. Clearly from the beginning of all this, a part of her soul knew the time of her death was near. But that had past, and she now had a new life, and new senses, powers… this new intuition was again putting the taste of kiwi in her mouth. Frowning, she was no longer seeing the television or hearing Seras talk about werewolf fighting strategies, and pointedly ignored Alucard staring at her. When was the last time she’d had kiwis?

She’d been a child. Someone had brought a pie with kiwis on it to her mother’s wake. The taste had made her smile. Her father had kept them on hand until his death, and after his service, Walter had brought her some. Then every year on the anniversary of her father’s death, Walter had left kiwis skinned and sliced on her office desk for breakfast. But she’d not had them since, more than thirty years ago now.

Narrowing her eyes, she was missing a large piece of this puzzle.

I am currently unable to decipher your thoughts , Alucard’s voice purred in her mind. I don’t know if you’ve gotten that good at misdirection or that your thoughts are not making a lot of sense right now. Walter and kiwis?

I don’t know yet, she answered, not entirely focused on the question.

But before they could continue, her phone went off. Looking to see Gregory Penwood’s number, she answered on the second ring. “Good evening, Sir Penwood.”

“G-good evening, Sir Hellsing. How… are you?”

Integra rolled her eyes to look to the ceiling. He was not the most glib of compatriots. “Better than I was a few days ago. What can I do for you?”

“The King is available this evening, and is hoping you can join the Council for a meeting with him to discuss… everything.”

Looking at her watch, Integra noted the hour. “What time?”

“An hour hence.”

“We will be there punctually.”

“We?”

Integra sighed. “Yes, Gregory, we . The ‘everything’ being discussed is no doubt the future of the Hellsing Organization. I feel that Alucard and Seras deserve to know as well. It’s not as if they've never accompanied me before.”

“O-of course, sir,” Penwood stuttered. “We will see you then.”

“Godspeed,” she said and ended the call. Looking to Alucard she inclined her head. “Well, let us get ready to meet the Council. It seems there is no rest for the wicked.”

“The wicked?” he asked in amusement, turning to follow her as she headed for the stairs. “Are we now the wicked?”

“ You have always been the wicked,” she mumbled with a raised eyebrow. “Depending on how this meeting goes, and what results our trip to Rome render, my fate is yet to be seen.”

“I’m not wicked!” Seras protested as she skipped to catch up with them, Pip un-manifesting to follow faster.

“ In or out of the sheets, ma cherie? ” his disembodied voice teased.

“Oh you hush! You are wicked, Captain.”

“ Guilty as charged. ”

“Please be on better behavior, the lot of you,” Integra admonished as she entered her bedroom and left the door open, expecting they would all follow whether she wanted them to or not. “We are about to meet with the King. Do try and pretend that you have manners.”

As Integra disappeared into her closet to change out of her bathrobe, Alucard smiled. “Charles or William?”

“William,” Seras sighed with a smile. “He’s right kind and clever as he is handsome.”

“ And bald ,” Pip’s salty tone echoed around them.

“Rude!”

“What happened to Charles?” Alucard asked evenly, saving his amusement, for if Integra remembered something before he had to remind her.

“He died of a heart attack a few years ago. Sad really. He was nice,” Seras shrugged. “Not the brightest color in a box of crayons, but nice.”

When Alucard glanced back to the closet from where he’d given Seras a moment of his attention, he saw Integra pointing a gun at him, her nude arm and shoulder beneath a cold glare telling him she remembered. “Not another word, Count. I will shoot you.”

Alucard’s grin curled widely as he slowly sauntered across the room, remembering his little prank from when she was 15, and locking her out of her own computer with obnoxious images of the now king and his brother. “It would not be the first time.”

“Nor likely the last. Now please, go about making yourself presentable.” Disappearing back into the closet, she cleared her throat. “You as well, Seras.”

“Sir yes sir!” the draculina responded and darted of to change from jeans and t-shirt into her proper Hellsing Uniform.

“Am I ever truly presentable?” Alucard asked her, his chuckle deeply amused and perhaps a hair too loud.

“You can be,” Integra sighed, dressing and reappeared fast as she could. She watched as Alucard’s grin widened to see her, eyes flashing with a number of impressions and emotions, not many of which were polite. She had chosen a suit, but unlike her normal selections especially for Council meetings, this was clearly cut for a woman. It was black, double breasted as was her preferred style, over a white dress shirt and red tie. Tugging on her white gloves, she pursed her lips against a smirk. “Yes?”

“Is this to show the Council a change, or for me?” Alucard purred, reaching out to tuck her hair behind one ear.

Feeling light, and fizzy, and well… more free than she had her entire life as his touch tingled over her skin, she remembered a time when she’d clung to propriety and what was expected of her as her only bastion against the storm of thoughts, feelings and emotions that stirred within her, especially as pertained to Alucard. Now? She didn’t bother to repress them. There was no need; she’d made her choice, and the statement therein was clear. “This, Count, is entirely for you.”

Buttoning her gloves, when she looked back he had changed his appearance. He too wore a black suit, with white gloves. His shirt was red with a black tie, and while she was fairly certain she’d seen this ensemble before, he wore his hair normally, long in front and short in back, with his red lense glasses already on.

“And this?” she asked coyly with hands in her pants pockets, stepping in to invade his personal space, resting her shoulder to his chest as if just pausing as she walked by.

“Is for my Queen,” he rumbled and took her chin between his thumb and finger, holding her still a moment to steal a kiss. After his lips lingered a moment, his eyes searched hers in seriousness. “Why Rome?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“It’s not our Jurisdiction.”

“We may not soon have Jurisdiction.”

He inclined his head in an affirmative. “All the more reason your promise of aid confuses me.”

Integra pursed her lips and looked past his shoulder but did not move. “This was my fate, Alucard. I’ve known it for years. It was why I mourned so very deeply when I lost hope. You knew it long before I did.” She felt him radiate agreement with her, but one eyebrow raised, knowing she was not done. When she turned back to look at him again, her eyes were cold. “That does not mean that I will allow her transgression to go unanswered. This is personal, just as I said to Makube. Jurisdiction or no, she shot me. She no longer gets to have her vengeance.”

Alucard just smiled and reached out an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “Then I follow where you lead, my Queen.”

“Ready when you are!” Seras called from downstairs.

Integra sighed. “I’m going to need to hire help around here, aren't I?” she sighed. "Now that we are all going to be down during the day for the most part.”

“What brought this on?” he asked, tucking her arm in his as they walked for the door.