Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Youth and Innocence ❯ chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Youth and Innocence

Chapter 4

Laughter and crude language filtered down the hall where the agents had their offices. Leung poked his head out as Walter and Alucard walked in, bantering easily about different ways the night's activities could have gone. He willed his face to go blank as he called out to them.

“Hey Pat! Good lead, wish we'd had her weeks ago. I need to stay here and fill out a report, but if you're still looking for a fight, I have an errand to send you on.” Walter's good cheer wasn't as contagious as it would've been if the large vampire hadn't been behind him.

“First you'd better check in with the boss. She's been waiting up for you,” Leung stepped back involuntarily as Walter and Alucard stopped walking and came to rest right in front of his door. He showed no other outward sign of discomfort, but the vampire smiled an evil grin and tilted his head, one red eye glinting at him as a lock of hair mercifully blocked the other.

Walter checked his watch, “In her office?” His voice was calm, but no trace of good humor remained.

Leung's voice seemed to come back to him slowly, “No, I guess she thought you'd come in the front, she's out in the foyer.” He put his hands behind his back to hide their shaking.

Walter murmured his thanks and he and the 'pet' wandered on in silence, watched by several agents, all leaning out from behind their small desks.

Integra had moved one of the large, almost throne-like chairs out of the library and had sat reading for a while, waiting for her agents to return. Her book and glasses had tumbled to the floor and she laid in a curled position, looking quite a few years younger as she dreamed. Walter and Alucard both stood, captivated by the sight.

Walter remembered the many times he'd carried her sleeping form upstairs. Sometimes, when she'd been quite young and he'd still been active as a butler, he'd carry the baby up to the governess, giving the couple more time together. Later, he'd often come across her as she was now, curled up in one of the giant chairs, surrounded by schoolbooks, head on one of the large oak tables in the study. He'd feel a surge of paternal pride as he laid her down in her bed, still dreaming. Silly to remember that now, he thought, but doesn't she look like an angel in her sleep. He turned his head to see Alucard's face, apparently with darker thoughts. He put up a hand to stop the vampire approaching her.

Alucard feigned innocence. “Shouldn't I carry the child up to her bed?”

“No,” Walter's voice was rougher than he'd intended, “I had her moved into her father's room.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Decades before, Arthur had put wards and charms up to protect his room from the undead. Alucard had helped to plan some of them and was used as guinea pig. There was no way for him to enter the room. He sneered at Walter and continued toward Integra.

“Now see here, Midian!”

Alucard put up one finger, moving it to his own lips and pointing at the sleeping girl. Walter lowered his voice, “I'm serious Alucard. I don't want-”

“What you want is irrelevant, old man.” Alucard's red eyes were glowing in the darkened entryway, “She is my master now and I will not be bound by anyone's desires but hers.” He turned back to look at her, ignoring Walter's shock. “Do you know what she thinks of you?”

“She thinks I'm a Judas, I know. We spoke earlier, so I know what she thinks. Thank you very much," He spoke softly, watching Alucard carefully. "I'm not trying to take Hellsing from her and I told her so.”

Alucard's face almost cracked with suppressed laughter, “She sees you as a monster,” he turned to relish the humans response, “She thinks you're as bad as I am.”

Walter looked from the vampire to the sleeping girl, a feeling of shock he couldn't hide working its way through his system. “I...” Like most vampires, Alucard was an excellent liar, but Walter knew he derived more pleasure from telling unpleasant truths. Still, how could she... everything he'd ever done had been done for her family.

Alucard hissed softly, almost chuckling, then put his hands on Walter's shoulders, “Come now, don't you have some business to finish?” He directed the man back the way they'd come until he felt Walter shake his assistance off.

Once in his office, Walter sent a message to the other agents, then settled down to write up the notes from his “date” with Emily McMillan. Alucard settled himself behind Walter, wishing he had a hat to shield his eyes from the florescent lights. Not only did they glare, they also had an audible sing that annoyed him. He closed his eyes and put up his feet, incurring a glare from his friend which he ignored. After all, humans usually assumed that he couldn't see them with his eyes closed.

“I am terribly sorry if the accommodations are beneath you,” Walter said in a sarcastic tone. Alucard grunted in response. The clacking of keys continued until Alucard moved his feet and looked to the door. A hand knocked once, then opened the door.

“Walter? Oh,” Pat Leung stood looking at the vampire.

“Thanks, Leung. That was quick,” Walter strove for a casual tone. “Are you up for a little breaking and entering tonight?” That garnered him the agent's full attention.

“Always, Dollnez! You know me!”

“Well, I'd like you to team with Alucard and check out this church,” he held out a paper with the information, but the other man didn't take it. “Is that going to be a problem?” Walter's voice held more than the simple question in it; there was a hint of danger as well. Alucard watched the two men.

“I can do it by myself,” he swallowed dryly. Leung looked at Walter's hand, still extended with the church location. He itched to grab it, but...

“What are you worried about, Agent?” Alucard's tone was not lost on them.

“Alucard!” Walter said sharply, “Integra has seen fit to loan you to us for the night. You will behave yourself in the field. As Leung said, he can do this himself. I want you to get him in and then take backup, in case there's trouble.”

“What, again? Babysitting?”

The centuries old vampire sounded vaguely like a whiny teenager and Leung felt himself relax ever so slightly. Perhaps there was more to him than just the dreadful hunger? “Walter?”

“Pat, if you feel you can't do this, I'll see if Draper is free. You know I wouldn't send Reynolds to a break in.” Stephan Draper was a thin, tall man with a keen sense of humor and a killer sniper. In a fixed location situation, he was fantastic backup. He could handle a break in, but wasn't Walter's first choice as his hand to hand was poor.

“Relax, old chap,” Leung had found his courage again and took the paper from Walter. He nervously eyed the languid creature who was tapping his fingers along the chair's arm and looking out into the hallway.

“I'd like to come along.”

The men fell silent, mouths agape as they looked at Integra standing in the doorway. She looked tired, but had clearly tried to smooth out her dress and hair before she came into view.

“Good evening, Master,” Alucard rose and bowed to her. “It's a fine night to go out.”

“No,” Walter's voice was firm. He looked between Alucard and Integra, “Miss, it wouldn't be wise. This is a... well we don't know what we'll find. It may well be a nest.” He didn't think she could command her way out of a dangerous situation. Alucard would protect her, of course, but if something should slip through his defenses... “You haven't been trained on missions, Lady Integra.”

“And just how does one get trained without going out on a mission?” She tried to stare him down, but the sharp gray eyes, one now accentuated by a monocle for writing, showed no flicker, no intimidation.

“There is another side of your training that we could get started on,” he gestured for Leung and Alucard to leave. “This is the bureaucratic end of things, but it is very important.”

Integra watched them leave, fuming. Walter doubted that she was impressed by his busy work, but he was serious. This was every bit as important in the long run. As she turned to glare at him he handed her some papers. “We need to contact your fellow Knights and alert them to the break in. Then we'll need to make certain that the proper authorities are aware to keep harmony between the Queen's services.” He sighed. “Alright, Miss, when we're done I'll take you to the location. We can wait outside in the Bentley.”

Integra looked a little mollified and reached out for the information. “I do want to go out, Walter. I need to know what it's like for them.” She watched him nod, at least he took her seriously.

“Miss, I will personally take you out on a mission once I feel your training is advancing. If you'll just try to be patient.” He paused, trying a different approach, one she might be able to understand, “If protecting you distracted Alucard, he might miss a danger to Leung. It would be very bad for morale if he came back from this gig with an agent in a body bag.” He could see that sunk in. She straightened up and suggested they go up to her office to make the necessary calls.

Patrick Leung was less than thrilled to be seen with the vampire trailing after him, but he went to change and got his gear as quickly as possible. Using breath control, he was able to put up with the heebie jeebies that crawled up his spine each time he met the crimson eyes. “How do you want to travel? I'll be taking a car.”

Alucard exited with him, but looked up at the sky before answering. There were more clouds forming, but dawn was still three hours away. “I'll meet you there. Don't make me wait.” He melted into shadows, then bats and was gone before Leung was able to close his gaping mouth.

In the quiet neighborhood, as people lay dreaming, an old door creaked open. A young vampire walked outside, turning left toward the small graveyard. He sniffed for a second and then walked to a tombstone nearest the parking lot. Sitting down on the small bench next to it, he seemed to be thinking. As it was a foreign occupation for him, it took all of his concentration. From a Darwinian perspective, this would be considered a bad thing. A white-gloved hand erupted from the creature's chest and he was troubled no more with thought.

Alucard wiped the dust from his trousers and cursed the agent who he sensed was only now parking a Renault, blocks away. He had already dismantled the guardian charms he found around the church and was tired of waiting. The graveyard behind the sanctuary was still in use as the recently interred testified. Hellsing may have to return to put these down in a few days. These low filth spawn feel like they'll take a while to manifest, he made a mental note to report it to Integra.

The soul is not one single entity, as is commonly imagined. Upon death, it shatters, breaking down into its component parts. There is the trauma of separation with the corporeal that can take hours or days, depending on the strength of the master vampire. A whisper of the soul remains in the fledgling, but the master vampire either consumes or pushes the rest of the soul out from the corpse. If the master is weak, it can be as long as a week before the new vampire rises, a hideous mockery of a true Nosferatu. Without their master, these would be little more than ghouls, but he was getting ahead of himself. He had to kill their master yet.

He had a few more minutes as the agent was walking toward the church yard, so he pulled out an old memory... his last fledgling... Lucy. He cursed Van Helsing out of habit, but Alucard had to take responsibility. It was his own pride that killed her, underestimating the human. Searching his soul he found more than a little respect for the old doctor. That respect mutated into a different emotion when he thought of the Dutchman's great granddaughter. He smiled.

Agent Leung slowed as he approached the grinning vampire. It had picked the most obscene place for them to meet. His imagination had long ago died and graveyards were just another workplace to him, but tonight? Here? It reeked with imminent death. “Oy, vampire,” he hissed, then braced himself for the scathing gaze.

“There is a nest. You will enter the offices, get what you need, while I play with them.”

Leung was taken aback. He was used to taking orders from Walter in the field, but from the enemy? “How many?”

“A few,” Alucard shrugged, “it's not an exact science.”

Leung's anger rose, “Are you leading me into a trap?” How could they trust this creature? “Walter told you-”

“Walter's my bitch and Integra's only a child. You are left to be my plaything,” he paused, savoring the sound of that for a second before he turned away. “I think that covers your fears, no?” The man couldn't speak so he went on. “Would that it were so.” He looked at the Gothic structure in front of them, imagining it on fire for a second before turning back to the diminutive agent. “You are not to get yourself killed. If you want a fight, I'll oblige when we return to Hellsing.” He restrained a smile as the man's pulse raced. The drop-out with an attitude and skill in martial arts... Alucard sensed Leung had matured into a drop out with chemical dependences and a serial killer's itch. Like almost all of the surviving agents, Alucard had checked him out mentally before he was brought on board. Arthur trusted the vampire on such matters. Of course, the men were unaware of him, or thought of him as a creepy child who haunted the halls now and then. His master forbade him from talking with them. All except for Walter. Walter had started the agency, in a manner of speaking. Prior to taking on the orphan, Arthur had planned to follow his father and grandfather's method of recruiting friends and various thugs into posses, doing raids and disbanding. With Walter, Arthur saw the possibilities. Now Integra would expand on that. It pleased Alucard even as it annoyed him to think of her needing more than himself.

Leung said nothing and they crossed the graveyard. Alucard turned to a shadowy fog, entering then ushering the human inside. They proceeded together toward a hallway that ran along a row of offices and from there to the main chapel. Leung watched down the hallway as the vampire opened the sanctuary doors and began his distraction by insulting the unseen enemy. With a roar of gunfire, Alucard was down. Pat's stomach sank. All talk and threats, but nothing to back it up? How typical. He worked the locks quickly, needing to get his work done as fast as he could while they congratulated themselves. Soon they'd hear his heartbeat and then he'd be toast.

The great hall was in shambles. Pews were overturned, fabric hung from the walls in shreds and blood streaked the beautiful works of stained glass. The vampires howled with laughter at their coordinated reaction. Then the corpse of the interloper began to laugh along with them. Icy tendrils of shadows crept along the aisle as the vampires fell silent; the new voice did not. “Releasing control art restrictions, level two.”

Alucard intended to take his time with this lot. They couldn't kill him, he doubted they could even challenge him. That left them only the option of entertaining him. His Cassull emerged from his shadow form, ringing out as it rained holy pain on the gathered fools. They would not die quickly, that was too good for them. Alucard watched as one tried to regrow his lower legs, dragging himself by his arms to find a hiding place underneath the overturned high altar.

“Who are you?” A young female called out to him.

“Jesus,” he taunted. “You get to be the money changers. Now run!” He chased her, feeling another one gather courage and remember which end of the pistol to use. Alucard took a hail of lead bullets to the back without slowing down. “Why don't you wash my feet, young one?” He moved in front of the female. She looked around, confused and angry. Perhaps she'd missed her Bible studies, he mused. He grabbed her head and pushed her down, letting her bloody tears fall on his boots before crushing her head to dust.

“What the 'effing Hell!” Another young one screamed, franticly looking for his leader, Alucard guessed that was the one hiding in the chancel, the one he was saving for last.

“Did they promise you immortality? They lied. You are trash, nothing more than scum in the baptismal font.” He directed his voice to the altar, but looked at the scattered fledglings trying to regroup, five left in all. “What other lies have they told you? What have you sold your soul to? Do you even know?” Indignation seemed to rise in them, giving them renewed strength. He smiled. “By all means, come and meet your maker. I can give you peace.” Without bothering to turn his head, Alucard swung his heavy gun to the right and took the chest out of one brandishing a large candle stand. “Next.” He kicked over a wooden pew, tearing a chunk out with his left hand. Advancing toward a heavy male vampire who had the sense to try and start running for the open doors, Alucard allowed his familiars to attend him and pinned the idiot down. He looked into scared eyes and winked, just before driving the wood in. Though the church had been desecrated by the pack, the old wood retained enough of the prayers, said by believers through the century it had seen service, to burn as it blinded. Alucard left this one alive, his screams adding to the chaos. He stood between them and freedom. A door slammed toward the back of the altar and Alucard remembered the sacristy and hallways that sometimes lead back to the rector's office. Damn, have to cut playtime short.

Releasing the restraints on his hell hounds, Alucard's shadow selves separated. He watched with a smile as his dogs devoured the ones in the sanctuary, while he was free to listen for the heartbeat of the agent and the scrambling sounds from the loose master vampire. He patted the head of the first hound to return.

This was definitely the mother load of evidence so far. Leung had financial records, computer files and letters stuffed into his backpack and was feeling proud of the fact that he hadn't needed that monster's help after all. The gunshots, screams and growls from the sanctuary indicated that Alucard had served his purpose, at least his body had been a distraction for the beasts. No one had come after him... yet. He cursed himself for that thought as he heard a thumping noise outside a side door to the office. You're not safe until you're back at Hellsing, he reminded himself. A bit safer tonight without that vampire around, he bit back the laugh that tried to escape as he crossed the office to the main door. The thing outside the side door came crashing through, rolled and then launched itself at him, claws extended.

Leung was no easy target for the enraged vampire. Blessed bullets blew through the vampire's shoulder as he knocked Leung down and its head was thrown back by an elbow to the chin. From the knees down, his legs were not quite there, just stubs, blood and shadows. As long as he could keep the human pinned, he could get the blood he needed to regenerate. The vampire used his superior strength to maintain the upper hand, despite the fight his victim was putting up. He knew he had to succeed, he had to get nourishment before the monster arrived. He felt the ripping pain as his fledglings died and he lashed out, slicing the Leung's chest with his long nails. To his shock, the man smiled at him and threw him off with a judo roll. The smell of blood was overwhelming and the vampire flew back at him, desperate for the red nectar.

Leung took the offensive, pummeling the vampire until his hands were pinned in the iron grip of the crazed creature. The vampire bent him backwards, face straining toward the blood. Leung tried to flip, but the creature's stubby legs had become more solid and his enemy used them to sweep him down. Once again on the floor, he braced for the attack, trying to get his hands free and moving his legs to cause damage and get free. There was no way he would give up his mortality to this weak vampire. It came as a surprise, therefore, when the creature was lifted violently off of him.

Alucard grinned down at Leung, “Some help, Agent?”

Patrick Leung had seen many things in his many years as an agent for the Hellsing Organization. He liked to consider himself above the emotions that flowed through his veins and trickled between his legs. Watching the No-life King's face split open into two parts, razor sharp teeth lining the edges and seeing it rip the head nearly off of the writhing vampire, then wrap inky black tendrils of darkness around the body before devouring it? No, he'd never seen one vampire consume another. Leung considered that word for a few minutes before movement came back to his muscles. Consumed. Yes, that was what he witnessed. Alucard, his face back in place, turned to him, hand extended as if to help him up. Leung stared at the white glove, strangely clean in the bloody office. He sighed and reached for it. “I was holding my own,” he choked out the words as he got to his feet. His cheeks burned with shame over losing control of himself.

“But of course,” the vampire purred, reaching a hand to Leung's chest and rubbing the shallow wounds there. Fresh blood oozed past the coagulating mess. He resisted the temptation to bury his head in it and lick the agent clean. The man's sanity looked like it could only take so much. But wonderful feelings were flooding through his form at the thought of holding the human down and working his tongue gently to tease the flow of fluid to the surface. Alucard pulled his hand back, large tongue cleaning his gloved hand. Red eyes burned at the man who backed away. “Go back to Hellsing,” he said, his voice revealing too much of the repressed desire. “My Master has arrived.”

Leung kept his eyes on the vampire as he moved slowly to the door. He focused on his breathing, the pain lessening as he focused inward. He ran all the way back to the car.

Alucard focused inwardly as well. “Limited control release complete,” he felt her presence moving closer and exited to meet her. The Bentley slowed down as Walter saw him. What a lovely machine, he thought. He'd always had a soft spot for transportation. The window lowered. “All targets have been silenced, my Master.” He bowed to her.

“Agent Leung?” Walter didn't bother speaking loudly, he knew Alucard could hear him just fine.

“Shaken up, but otherwise he'll be fine. He's returning now.” He looked at Integra. “Would you like a full report?” He saw how hard she was fighting the pull of sleep.

“Yes, I think that's wise,” she yawned, but sat up straight. “You want to ride back?” She gestured to the wide space to her side.

Considering his current mood, he thought twice about sitting close to her. “I will meet you in your office.”

 

The day dawned unseen by the master of the Hellsing manor. Walter had sent word to all that Integra should be allowed to sleep. He was up as usual and seeing to things in her office. Having already sifted through the data Leung retrieved he felt that the end of the case was almost in sight. They may not be able to hand over the culprits to the Knights as he'd wanted, but at least they could show marked progress. He shook his head as a painful thought pushed faintly on his heart. “Monster,” he said softly shaking his head. Last night he'd listened to Patrick use that word over and over as they returned to their rooms. Each time it was like a knife twisting. Agent Leung's event report to Integra had been brief, but he poured the truth out to Walter once they were in private.

“I can't get it out of my mind,” Pat sounded miserable as he bared his soul to Walter. They spoke of addiction, both to the violence and to drugs. There was no life for him in the 'normal' world, no place else to go. Who, outside the walls of Hellsing, could understand?

I don't think I gave him any answers, Walter sighed. We are all monsters here. He shook his head, “Still, she...”

The hallway door opened and Pettrus came waltzing in, stopping suddenly when he saw Walter. They eyed each other warily. “Is not your office, Dollnez. Not yet.”

With his promise to Integra, Walter was constrained to a purely defensive position. Thankfully, he wasn't physically bound by her request to him, the way Alucard would be, but it was bad enough to know how she felt. No, this wasn't the time to fight. “We had the chance to talk last night, Pettrus. Don't jump into things you don't understand. Leave it.”

“Don't understand? What, I don't understand you killed Bennett? Think I don't understand you'd kill Integra? What don't I understand? Think I don't understand how you got your position? Think I don't know what you been doing, you with that monster in your room?”

Walter's fingers twitched, but there was no other indication of his feelings. Like wolf packs, the agents would scrap and fight periodically, establishing dominance and hierarchy. Usually Walter let his abilities in the field speak for him, retaining his position on top through his accomplishments. Occasionally, he had to smack someone down, but without Arthur there to back him up, it was awkward. Integra would see this as another traitorous act and he had no idea how she might react.

The two men stared, Tom taking confidence from Walter's inaction. The loose code of behavior they lived by took marks off the first one to draw weapons, so he resisted getting his knives out... yet.

“Walter, you there? Stephan here,” chirped the intercom.

Neither man dropped eye contact, but Walter slid a finger over and pushed the button. “Yes.”

“Ah, you got a call. Bird. On the vicar's line.” The words got the attention of both men and the danger of the moment was gone. Personal battles were one thing, but they took backseat to the organizations.

“Brilliant, patch it through up here, please,” Walter pulled a pen out of his pocket and Pettrus crossed the office to hand him a notepad. He acknowledged it with a muttered thanks, then put a chipper look on his face and answered the ringing phone, “Hello?”

A woman's voice cried out, “Tim, how could you?” Pettrus gave Walter a sour look and made his way out.

“Oh, Emily, I'm so sorry,” he had to stop there, not sure if he was apologizing for leaving or if he'd been found out. She let out a choked sob, so he went on with a neutral tone, “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“No, you... I thought we... it's no use,” it took her a few more sobs to become coherent. “I cried all night, but,” she said as he murmured another apology, “I'm thinking I may not come to join you,” a loud nose blowing punctuated her anger.

Walter was torn. Discouraging her was good, as it meant she would live, but bad as it would take away a chance to follow her. “Oh, well.” He sighed loudly and fell into character, “I won't try to change your mind, but as I recall you have some strong reasons to follow the call. And it is a calling, Emily, not everyone is invited, not everyone is worthy of becoming one of the Risen. You're a special person. Don't let your feelings about me cloud your judgment,” there, almost truthful. Walter felt much like a used car salesman. He knew exactly what that felt like, having done sales as part of a case many years before, vampires in the car market. He listened to the other end. She was breathing in a staccato way. He imagined her in her untidy home, maybe sitting on the stool in the kitchen, a cup of soggy cereal waiting for her.

“Oh Tim, I don't know,” she had stopped sobbing, though.

He decided to blend more truth in, “I didn't want to take advantage of you really. You are quite pretty. And I am old enough to be your father,” he tried to cheer her up a bit and it seemed to work.

She sighed heavily, “I was a bit pissed,” then she sounded a bit brighter, “but you're not quite that old. If you come along, why don't you get reborn along with me?”

Walter's vanity accepted her compliment, though his rational mind could've argued. As for the offer, “I'll think about that, maybe it is time.” Might as well give her something positive to think on, for all the pain she seemed to have put herself through over him. “Oh, damn. I've got a consultation in five minutes; call me whenever you like.” Maybe that would stop her from contacting the real cultists and finding him out, at least for a while.

“Cheers, then Father Baker. I mean Tim,” she laughed lightly as they hung up.

Walter held the handset to his ear for a minute after the call, then pushed the intercom, “Draper? Did you get a clear trace?”

“Yes sir and it checks out.”

“Good.” He clicked the button and put down the phone, never can be too paranoid.

“Oh no, I'm late,” Integra looked out the window at the bright morning sky. She counted on Mary bustling in with breakfast at the same time each day. Better ask Patel to find me an alarm clock, she thought as she brushed out her long hair. Today she was to start her Hellsing training with advanced firearms and beginning hand to hand combat. Leung had looked pretty bad last night though. It'd surprised her, actually. Her father had mentioned him by name when warning her of the agents. He was supposed to be quite tough, but didn't look it last night. He'd gotten them good information from the looks of it. She'd have a go at the files later. Maybe Leung would feel better tomorrow and they could start then. That left firearms.

Thinking about shooting made her a little nervous. Walter had made sure she could handle guns safely when she was eight. Her father enjoyed target shooting, but she really did it to be with him. It was noisy and smelly. After her mum died, he seemed to lose interest in such things and it took his death for her to see how important it was. Now she wondered if every target would have her uncle's face on it. Would she learn to love it like her father did? Whose face did he see? As she finished getting dressed, Integra realized how little she knew about her father. Every child sees their da' as some kind of hero, but hers really was. He worked hard to keep the world safe from the scourge of the undead. Still, she realized he kept his own vampire prisoner in the dungeons... Needing some form of reassurance, she went to the drawer in her father's dresser where her mother's scarves rested. Lifting them to her nose, she smelled nothing. A feeling of despair settled in her chest and she sat on the bed. The lovely scent didn't make the move from her room to her father's. She looked at the fabric in her hands, wondering if she really knew her parents at all. A knock on the door reminded her that self pity did no one any good. “Enter.” She tried to smile for Mary.

“Teggy love, you already up? I was trying to let you sleep in a little. Mr. Dollnez said you'd been out late?” She fussed about with delicate china dishes and a little notebook of the day's schedule.

“Well, yes, but I've asked you before to wake me at the same time each day,” she paused as an important thought struck her, “and it is I you work for, not Walter.” She stood tall, he didn't get to countermand her orders!

The older woman stopped in her tracks and looked at her for a time, blinking rapidly before answering in a tight voice, “And how much longer do you think you'll be needing my services, Lady Hellsing?” Mary wished she could take those words back almost as soon as she spoke them, but there they were, standing between them. She turned and rushed from the room, still clutching the day planner in her hands.

Integra looked at the breakfast tray, but she had no stomach for it. Mary was like a mother to her, at what age do people fire their mothers? No, I'll track her down later, she shook her head and her thoughts returned to her father. Oh Father, why? So many questions started with the same words, why did he... and none of the questions had answers. The two who could likely answer them were the two she shouldn't trust, Walter and Alucard.

Integra didn't want to see Walter yet, especially if Mary had just run to him. That left the monster. She reasoned that if he were asleep, no harm would be done, but if he were awake, she'd ask him the questions that she'd been nearly bursting with. Fortified with these thoughts, she walked back to the hallway that led down. Once she'd stepped onto the first step, her plan looked a bit sketchier. The lights were dim and a feeling of fear washed over her. Each step took determination. She didn't know which of the doors was his, but decided she would start with the cell she'd found him in and work her way back up. Moving into the lower basement, her courage almost failed. This was a bad idea. There was no way she should be down here. Memories of their meeting played in her mind. Memories of killing her uncle joined them. She leaned against the cool stone and tried to fortify her spirit. It was morning, vampires powers are weaker in the day. This mansion belonged to her and she was free to move anywhere in it. In addition, he was her servant; he'd even called himself her willing slave. She shouldn't fear going to his room. But which one was it?

As she walked slowly on, she noticed a door that had new paint on it, black paint. Well, it was worth a try? Integra reached for the handle, half expecting one of the dreadful hallucinations to come into her mind. After a second of touching the metal, all she felt was a sense of relief. She giggled to herself that she was probably just opening the janitor's cupboard, but stopped laughing as the door opened slightly. Inside a small room was nothing except for a large black coffin. She stood still, unsure whether to go forward or run. As nothing bad happened, the hesitation faded and she moved into the room.

The casket had a sleek look. It appeared well cared for, gleaming even in the dim light from the corridor. She approached it, reading the words carved into the ebony wood and memorizing them to look up the meaning later. Integra was a bit afraid to touch it, but a need was building up in her. Tentatively, her hands moved to the edge of the lid. She didn't mean to open it, but it lifted so noiselessly that she was staring at him before she knew what she was doing. Integra had seen corpses before. She'd seen her mother, she'd seen her father and various of the old people who'd meant something to her family. Of course, she'd watched her uncle and the treacherous agents become corpses. Somehow, Alucard looked different. How can it be true that they are forever dead and he comes back to life every night? He looked like he was sleeping, except for the utter stillness of his body. His arms rested over his chest and his shoulder length hair spilled across a white satin pillow. He was beautiful in repose. She'd been uncomfortably aware that he was handsome, but now with his face relaxed in sleep, he looked like an angel. If he'd looked more like the monster she knew he could be, she probably wouldn't have reached her hand out to touch his face.

Integra's finger brushed his cheek, just under one closed eyelid. Cold marble was the best comparison she could think of. There was texture and a softness to the skin, but without the warmth of a living being, it was confusing to her fingertips. As surprising as the feel of his skin was her own boldness. Still, as he was her property, in a way, and as he was asleep... She ran her fingers along his face,touching every inch before tracing a line from his forehead down to his chin.

Alucard's hand shot up, instincts reacting before his brain had a chance to interpret what was happening. Rushing blood overwhelmed his hearing. His fingers wrapped around a human forearm, but were prevented from crushing it by a warning pain somewhere in his psyche. Stopping the warm, moist touch was his highest priority, then came opening his eyes to assess the situation. He pulled back his lips, tingling where her fingers had teased them, exposing fangs. Her scream tore through his mind and he abruptly stopped twisting the wrist he'd grabbed. All of his senses were again working together and the result was astonishing. She'd dared to touch him?

“Curiosity killed the cat, my Master.” He tried to determine if he had hurt her or simply scared her. Considering that she was fighting with all her might, he decided she was simply startled. Alucard retained control of her wrist. There was no way out. He considered for a moment pulling her into the coffin with him, to feel her living body struggle against his was tempting though he was quite certain of retribution from the Hellsing bindings. “I assure you, there is no one to hear your screams down here,” his voice dripped with venom, this was a topic he knew quite well, having screamed for more than half a century in this very room. It amused him that Walter had chosen it, a pointed reminder or a tip of the hat from one sadist to another? Regardless, it suited him. That his safety, his world had been violated by this child was unacceptable.

She was trying to calm herself, having figured out that she would pull her shoulder out of its socket before she could possibly free herself. “Get... get away, let me go,” she was having trouble regulating her breathing, much less her heart rate, but he gave her points for trying. Integra saw the physical reaction he was having to her fear and lost the small amount of self control she had gathered. Her hand began to scratch at his exposed skin above his glove.

“May I point out that you are the one who has violated me?” Alucard regarded her calmly as he sat up, giving the tiniest twist to her arm just to see what her reaction would be. She stopped struggling, using her free hand to rub the shoulder of her trapped arm. There were no red warnings from his bonds and Integra hid her fear as best she could. Good. “What I would like to hear is an apology.” To his amusement, she stammered, but couldn't bring herself to get the words out.

“I- I'm... no, I hardly think I need to... You're the one who... Let me go!” She pulled again, her voice getting high and shrill, “I- I order... Let go of me!” When he did, she lost her balance, landing hard on the floor and kicking her legs to push herself away from his casket. “Why?” she breathed. Earlier, she'd meant to ask a lot of questions, but only one came to mind now, why had he reacted so violently?

He stood, moving out of his bed and closer to her, hand outstretched. He questioned himself as well. Integra was growing on him, though he wasn't sure why. She refused his assistance, pushing herself up from the floor even though it was less than graceful. He regarded her before answering. “Perhaps another question is in order, my Master? What would your reaction be, waking in the night and finding my hands on your sleeping body?” His face lost its regal calmness as understanding and just a touch of a blush dawned on her. He pursed his lips considering her. “To be a true vampire,” he said, walking toward and touching his coffin lovingly, “you gain much, but there are... trade offs as well.” He turned and looked hard at her, “Do not touch,” words failed him as a multitude of languages all failed to capture the grandeur of his final domain, his kingdom, so he settled for “my home.” He smiled politely, lips closed to cover his teeth. “If you need my assistance in the day, you have only to call.”

Integra didn't know what to say, she wanted to apologize, but she didn't want to show weakness. Her throbbing arm helped her retain some anger toward him. With a cheeky tone she asked, “Call? How?” She looked around the room. There were built in cabinets along one wall, a sink and a door that no doubt led to a water closet; it looked like electricity had been run to the room, although the light fixture didn't seem to work, but no phone. She saw his smile turn a bit malicious again. It was better than the patronizingly patient smile he'd had.

“You need only sing my name, Master.” This was one of the many times he blessed her for her ignorance. Her knitted brow told him that she suspected he was putting her on, but she had no other guidance on the delicate matter of their mutual bondage.

“Sing?”

“Well, it's in your name, is it not?” That old Dutchman had meant it more as Hell's Gate, but as long as Alucard was going with this joke he'd enjoy it to its fullest.

But humor crept up on her face as well, “So my father locked you away to avoid having to sing for you? How very sensible.” She gloated as his smile turned down just a few notches. “Well, it's been quite educational, thank you, but I must get going before Walter thinks my absence is an excuse to take over.”

He chuckled to himself as she left. Yes, as much as he hated getting attached to mortals, she was growing on him.

After wandering between her office and Walter's, Integra was beginning to get worried. “Mr. Patel?” she saw the butler carrying a bundle of tablecloths in from the delivery bay.

“Yes, Miss?” He had been one of the staff that her mother had especially asked for some years ago. Integra assumed it was because he was Indian, but such a connection was lost on her. He was quiet and efficient, that was all she asked for.

“I'm looking for Mr. Dollnez, have you seen him?”

With the look typical of a grown up answering a child, he smiled, “Of course, Miss. He is waiting for you at the range. You haven't forgotten your lessons today have you?” He watched, amused, as she picked up her skirt and ran.

Truth be told, Agent Dollnez was in a chair, sleeping. He woke to the sound of her footsteps ringing down the hallway. The range was a low brick building built by her grandfather for family and friends to enjoy. Walter had plans sketched out for her approval to enlarge it for training purposes, but that would wait for another day. This morning, he'd spoken with some of the soldiers that had been recommended. Once they had background checks from military intelligence, they'd have to get serious about the transfer details. Now he stood, patiently looking over the guns he'd placed on the table. “Good morning, Lady Integra.” She mumbled an apology, but he ignored it. “Did you find what you were seeking in the dungeons?”

Her eyes went wide, “You knew?” Why didn't he warn her? She rubbed her sore shoulder.

Walter nodded, “I tried to find you earlier,” he allowed, “and saw the door opened. The staff do not go there, not without my knowledge.” When her face began to cloud up, he went on, “Your relationship with your servants, whether Alucard or your governess, is none of my concern... unless you would care for some advice?”

Integra stood, neither nodding nor in any way affirming his question, but staying quiet long enough that Walter felt confident to go on, “Regarding your governess, do recall that she has your best interest at heart. It is rare to find the type of loyalty that she offers you. Beware your servant though, he is loyal in his own way, but never mistake that he has your interests at heart. For that matter, he may well have no heart,” he searched her face and found clues there as to how the meeting with the vampire had gone. Good, he thought, so she was learning. “Shall we begin your lesson?”

Integra was grateful to change topics, “Please do.” She looked over the guns, in different stages of assembly. Walter had chosen a wide variety and she hoped she wouldn't have to shoot all of them. One exceedingly large gun drew her eye and she pointed, “What's that one then?”

“Ah,” Walter smiled, “Go ahead, pick it up.”

She did as he said and cursed at the weight of it, her arm still hurting from Alucard, “Bloody Hell!” Her father wouldn't have approved her language, but Walter said nothing. She lifted the gun, but its barrel was too heavy to hold level, even with two hands.

“It's designed to a kick like a cannon. Imagine for a minute what an enemy would feel like facing down that barrel. Now imagine killing with it,” he watched her dutifully try to lift it again.

“I can't, Un- Walter,” she felt herself slipping into trusting him again. Being here with him felt good, like old times when he first taught her safety, but she shook her head. She wasn't a child anymore.

He grinned widely, “Yet you do that every time you send Alucard out. The agent wields the weapon, but you wield the agent, do you understand?” She shook her head and he waved a hand, “it will make more sense later, my Lady. You may put it down now. We're out of ammunition on that one, that's the only reason I have it, but more will be in very soon.” He'd sent in a rush order days ago; obtaining the blessed silver was the only hold up. “Try one of these,” he pointed to the small, but lethal guns spread across the table. Integra picked one at random. “Lovely. Now take it apart.”

She looked at him blankly. It must've been four years since she'd last had to do that; considering all that had happened, it was like a lifetime, really. She shrugged and picked up the gun, looking it over carefully. It was a Colt, US Government model, but someone had etched Hellsing onto it in a lovely script. As to how to disassemble it, she was still baffled. Walter moved away from the table, sitting down in a nearby chair. He had several folders next to him and she was annoyed to see him pick one up, effectively ignoring her. Channeling her anger into the task at hand, she found the mechanism to release the clip. The metal clanged, but Walter didn't look up. When she had finally pulled apart all that she could, he stood and brought out the oils and tools so that she could clean it. “This is taking forever, Walter. I should be working,” the whine in her voice was unwelcome, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“Will you say the same thing to your math tutor? Chemistry? Working with guns is every bit as important as any of your other subjects. I intend to have the agents and Alucard work with you over the next few years until the gun is an extension of your will.”

The intensity in his eyes scared her slightly, but his words touched her. Surely a true enemy wouldn't bother? Unsure, she turned away from him and went about cleaning the pistol. Walter settled in to read Reynold's reports.

“Sir Hellsing?” Pettrus' voice filtered through the doorway. “Ah, there you are, sir.” He ignored Walter who stood and walked to Integra. “Gentleman's here for the dogs, sir.”

“Oh,” she had pushed the animals out of her mind, but it would be nice to have less of their barking around the grounds. “Walter?” she turned to her teacher.

“I'll take care of this, Miss,” He'd been pained to see how she was handling the assembly, but his philosophy was to let her do it completely, even wrong, before he stepped in. It was the only way to work with the Hellsings, truth be told. Hovering over her as she worked would lead to rebellion and doing it for her would lead to laziness. He watched her go, pleased with their first lesson.

They could hear the kennels well ahead of reaching them. The noise level was staggering. Every dog was raising a protest over the strange men who entered and they all had to shout over the barking and crying. Integra was shocked to see that it was Mr. Riley, the stable master who was blubbering. The other men politely ignored his grief as they counted the fox hounds and moved crates into the building. She had to stand directly in front of him to get his attention. “Pull yourself together,” she shouted to be heard. She turned to the man walking toward her. “Oh. Good day Sir Bolcom,” she offered her hand to him. He took it, but rather than shake it, pulled it to his lips.

“Good day, young lady,” he smiled as she jerked her hand away. “Good set of dogs you have here.” His voice was cracking slightly from competing with the animals. “Always enjoyed hunting with your father.”

Integra wondered if he meant hunting fox or vampire, and would've asked, but this was no place for any conversation, much less about a classified activity. She wished the dogs would calm down and she put her hands over her ears. Bolcom signaled that they should walk outside to talk, but all of the dogs suddenly stopped. With the exception of a few whines here and there, they all fell silent. Most laid down; Integra thought they looked to be sulking somewhat, their eyes following the men who dropped steel crates in amazement.

Sir Bolcom chuckled, drawing her attention back to him. “So, you haven't put her away yet?” Seeing the girl's confusion he added, “sorry, put 'it' away. You'll have to forgive me, it's been a while since I had to care about the creature's mind games.”

Integra tried to summon the blank face she'd seen on Walter so many times. Now was not a good time to fly into a rage and she assumed he meant the vampire. She wouldn't discuss Alucard in front of so many civilians. Pettrus stood behind her looking at the dogs, now being led into their crates for transport. At least Mr. Riley had calmed. Bolcom opened his mouth to speak, but as the stable master approached he said nothing.

“Sorry thar, Miss Hells'ng,” Riley said, still wiping his eyes. “Just, so many years, ah've...” He paused, looking between them and back at the emptying kennels. He blew his nose into a checked cloth. “Yer gett'n some good hoonds, Sir,” he shook Sir Bolcom outstretched hand vigorously before leaving to help load crates into the lorry. As the dogs left their home they again gave free voice to their unhappiness. The sounds carried back inside with only Integra, Pettrus and Bolcom left to hear them.

Sir Bolcom picked up where they had left off the night before, “You see this really is the best way, don't you Integra?”

“Naturally,” deliberately, she misinterpreted, “I'm not fond of the dogs. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to see to.” Turning on her heels, she and her secretary moved to the door. She heard him call her name, sounding a bit hurt.

She stopped only when he called after her, “Mind you don't grow fond of that dog you're keeping either. Nothing good will come from that.” Diplomacy was not her strong suit and although Integra thought about turning back to invite him into her office where they could speak freely, her pride wouldn't let her. With Pettrus behind her, she stalked back to the mansion.

“He'll go seek out Walter, you know,” Tom bent down to whisper.

Integra said nothing. She couldn't worry about that now, her mind was burning with Sir Bolcom's last words. If she wasn't growing fond of him, why did she reach out to touch him? Why did the feel of his skin please her?

 

Leung continued to crush the stress ball in his right hand. He'd watched as Integra came back into the mansion. Stress? Jumping Jesus, he felt stressed. Mentally, spiritually and physically he felt like he was coming apart. There were just two things that could soothe him and he couldn't indulge in either one. With seventeen years of being clean, being straight? No, getting the monkey off his back was too hard, he wouldn't throw that out over a bloody vampire trick. He squeezed the stress ball, feeling the crunch of the filling inside and his fingers pushing through the resilient material until it finally gave way. The falling stuffing reminded him of rice and he smiled at the memory of killing a vampire who stooped to count grains from a rice bag many years ago. Legend had it that some were so obsessive they had to count every last grain. It doesn't usually work, but this one time rice saved about fifty lives.

He cursed softly as he had to pick up the mess on the hallway floor. His other worry was so troubling, there was no stress ball in the world that could stand up to it. Seventeen years ago he'd faced both of his problems, cold turkey. Arthur had helped him then. He owed so much to the Hellsings, that was where the mental anguish was coming from. She was his ideal victim. What was he doing thinking such things about the child of Arthur and Dayita? 'D' was like an angel, Leung sighed. Now she was one he supposed. If anyone deserved to be, at least. He'd never know not where he was going. Pulling on all of his self controls, he crossed the hall to Integra's office.

“Come in,” Integra called to the person knocking. She felt some embarrassment as Agent Leung entered. Having never found out when their time was to be she'd sort of hoped he'd forget too. He didn't look at all like the wreck he did last night. Today he was the professional she'd always seen him as. His bald head gave him a sleek, dangerous look, but his smile tended to make her smile back. “I'm so sorry, what time were we to...”

Leung raised an eyebrow, “What time, Miss? Oh, I was told one, but no worry, boss,” it was frustrating, not knowing how to address this woman/child. “We can start your class whenever you're free.”

“Oh,” she glanced at the clock, hating how long she'd made him wait. Her stomach rumbled. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes Miss,” he lied. His stomach had been spasming since last night and he didn't dare try to put anything in it beyond water and rice. “But if you would like to get something...”

“No, no, I'm fine,” without Mary to baby her, Integra thought she might just as well push on, “can we begin now? Where should we go?”

Leung smiled and rubbed his head before speaking. It was one way of pushing back his demons, “We have a practice room, you know where that is, right? There isn't a ladies locker, but we can take turns. Do you have anything to work out in?”

“Yes, I'll go get them and meet you there then!” She stood, feeling excited to finally get her hands dirty, in a manner of speaking. Much more interesting than these police reports, she thought as she tossed one back into the 'in' pile. Integra practically ran to her father's room, waving her goodbyes.

When she arrived back downstairs, Integra was surprised to bump into Mr. Draper standing just inside the doorway. “Oh, I didn't see you,” she mumbled, looking around.

“Not a problem, Miss,” his accent pinned him forever as a lad from Liverpool, though he'd not been back since his twenties. He cringed to think of how long ago that was now. “You looking for Pat then? He asked you to wait a bit, he's having some trouble, G.I., I'm thinking.” To her blank look he added, “Gut rot? Tummy trouble.”

Integra nodded tentatively at that. Her stomach was fluttery as well, but that was nerves. She pulled up Mr. Draper's file in her mind, hoping to find something to talk about. “So he asked you to tell me?” That got her a nod from the tall man. “Well, um, you've been doing switchboard for us lately?”

He pursed his lips before answering, “yeah, fair bit. Since your father- well, I am sorry about that,” he didn't know how to say it and she seemed a bit put out, so he stumbled on, “well, for a while now, but I get to go out tonight.” Her nod wasn't enthusiastic, but she wasn't the one who'd been answering the bloody phones for months on end. “Well, I'm pleased anyway. Reynolds is letting me tag along, not one of the big cases, but I'll pick off ghouls anytime!” He shifted his weight, feeling overly tall around such a tiny girl. “I was just here to ask Pat if he'd take over comm tonight. You know, since last night was so... he might need a break. He asked me to let you know... about his... delay.”

Integra didn't know what else to say, so they both stood, looking out at the padded floor mats and avoiding eye contact in the mirrors that lined the wall. “Well, um, I did get ready a bit quickly...” There was one odd thing in his file, “so, you have a degree in theology?” She saw his face brighten a bit.

“Yeah. You know, it comes in handy now and then, more than you might expect.” He smiled at her, thinking that at her age he wouldn't have even tried to chat with some doddy old man. Good breeding, he guessed. “You know, vampires don't fit easily into our typical religious view-”

“Sorry, Ma'am,” Leung interrupted as he came out of the changing room. “Thanks, Stephan! Now, Miss, shall we begin?” He waved a hand to the blue mat and she dutifully moved, smiling at Draper who took that as his cue to leave. “Right, now don't go thinking we're gonna do martial arts, because we're not. I'll be teaching you self defense and then later combat. First, limber up.”

Integra nodded. His style had changed, there was none of the very polite man she had seen earlier. She tried to follow him as he stretched and appreciated that he wasn't as tall as the rest of these men. He was taller than she, but maybe half a foot. “What's the difference?” She'd asked politely, but he looked insulted anyway.

“Different disciplines, Integra. One you need a proper teacher for,” he'd had his family and they hadn't even been enough. As an adult he sought out schools, but none here were tough enough. He'd once considered leaving Hellsing to start his own, but that was before his problems had manifested. Now he wouldn't consider being around so many... Even if he'd restricted classes to grown men, people in England wouldn't pay to be bruised up after every session, his family's concept of conditioning, toughening. “No, don't bend your knees, more like that, yes.” It helped him to think of her as another agent. He often worked and sparred with them, no trouble there. “And between self defense? Well, you try to survive one way, and try to kill with the other. They're related, of course, but still, different strategies.”

She laughed, full of confidence at her ability to cheat death. “Well, I want to learn it all.” She looked him in the eye, her peripheral vision catching their reflections as he faced her. In one, she saw his hand reach into his pocket, a glint of light was her only warning but she moved away as he brought the hand back up, slashing at the air.

“Good,” he said softly as he crouched low, putting him directly at her level. “Now try to disarm me.”

Integra tried to trust her instincts, which were telling her to run but they were in conflict with her rational mind which said he was her teacher, he wouldn't hurt her. She eyed him warily. “Is this combat or defense?” Her voice tight with tension.

Leung swallowed before answering, “Defensive. You cannot outrun me and I am armed. Now Integra, disarm me.” He held his hand out farther, an awkward position designed to lure her off balance. She lunged and he was able to grab, turn and arm lock her in a split second. “You crossed in front of my body, boss. That leaves you open here,” he used his knife hand to point at her jugular vein, “and here,” he pointed at her chest, under the arm he was lifting, not too tightly he hoped as it was the arm she'd been shot in, “and here,” her stomach this time. His small switchblade glided across her t-shirt, making her aware of how it stuck to her skin. Mary had obtained a training bra for her, but Integra didn't think she needed it yet. Watching the dagger move across her breasts, she swore she'd never go without it now.

He was sure she could feel his racing heart, but was careful to keep his hard on away from her legs. He spun her free content that she had learned something, but uncertain if it was what he'd intended. “Now, if your enemy is vampire, it'll try to move you to expose pulse points, but humans don't care. All vulnerability needs protecting. Again.”

Integra was too shocked to move at first. She'd fenced competitively and only days ago she'd faced guns aimed and even one shot at her, but the danger he presented seemed to be worse. Why? Well, who used a live blade in the first class? Hellsing agents, she guessed. She took stock of their positions again. He held out his hand with the switch blade outstretched. This time she aimed a kick at the hand, but he read it easily and caught her, lifting the leg and forcing her down, his knife again tracing lines as he spoke in his controlled manner. After several more attempts she figured out that what scared her was the effort he seemed to put into staying calm. She shivered involuntarily.

“Are you all right, Lady Hellsing?” Walter's voice was a welcome addition to the room, she thought while being head locked by her instructor. Leung let her up, shifting his legs in his baggy sweats and turning to the doorway. “Agent Leung,” he greeted his comrade calmly, no hint of concern in his voice, though it was there in his mind. He knew a crazed look when he saw one. He unfolded a metal chair and sat to the side. “Carry on, I can wait. We need to palaver, Patrick.”

Integra let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Walter wouldn't let her get hurt, she thought, but then wondered where such certainty came from. She looked at the knife, glinting in the harsh light. “Again, Miss Integra,” Leung instructed. She didn't want to, really. A quick look between Walter and her teacher gave nothing away on either face. Leung took his stance again, hand tantalizingly outstretched.

She should be able to get that damned knife, she chided herself, what was she afraid of? Integra crouched low, like the agent. She lunged, aiming a fist at his chest, not going for the obvious attack on his hand. His surprise may or may not have been real, she wasn't sure, but the trace of blood seeping through his shirt was. He'd been scraped up pretty bad there last night. “Oh, I didn't mean to...” she stopped at his smile. He seemed pleased at her attack and bowed to her.

“I will check your training schedule, Ma'am and see where you can fit this in amongst your classes,” he was back to being her perfect employee, the gleam she'd seen in his eyes gone.

Relief flooded her. Was every man insane? She'd have to ask Mary, though that hadn't gone so well the last time they'd had “the talk.” Maybe one of her friends would be able to tell her, they seemed to talk about boys incessantly. Still... they lived in another world. Would Skip be able to tell her? Could she talk to him about the craziness of the old men around her? Probably not, but thinking about him made her wonder if he was thinking about her. There was time to stop by the stables before dinner... “Thank you, Agent Leung,” she said as he toweled off and chatted with Walter. She slipped out as quickly as she could, running up to her room to change.

Skip's father, Mr. Riley, was sitting out in front of the stables smoking. He stomped out his fag as she came up to the entrance. “Hallo, Lady Hellsn'g. Goin' fur a rahde?” He grinned a craggy smile at her. His cheeks were redder than normal. Blushing or was he upset about the animals?

“Well, I thought I'd stop by,” she thought for a second, “to see Bennie.” She passed him, her own slight blush starting. The smells of the barn greeted her. She breathed deeply, it was a soothing blend of animals, feed and human scents. It smelled of life. She'd forgotten about her father's stallion Antaka, an older horse now getting ornery. He whinnied as she passed his stall. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a carrot, it was for Bennie but she had others. She stretched her hand out to the charger.

“No!” Skip's voice startled her and the carrot fell just in front of the stall. The black stallion kicked his forelegs against the wooden gate in anger as his head arched back. “Sorry 'bout that, Miss Integger,” he said, raising a hand toward the stall, where the horse continued to complain. “Whoa, thar, easy boy,” he made a soft sound in his throat and the horse stomped its hooves. It echoed his noise and turned its head to the side, watching them. “He's been a bit off since, well, fer a week or so, ma'am, biting fingers an' all.” Skip smoothed his unruly hair and it immediately sprang back up.

Integra stepped back, looking down the barn at Bennie's stall. “Is she ready? I could use a good run today.”

“Oh aye, she's been waytn' for ya,” he smiled. Integra noticed his grin was a little lopsided and decided that made it a little cute. There was a loud crash; Antaka again kicked against the wood. She backed away farther as Skip made clicking noises with his tongue. “Ah'll get 'im some treat, no worries, Miss.” He put a hand on her back to lead her toward her horse.

The warmth of his hand was appealing, but she didn't think he should be so bold, so she walked a bit faster and he dropped it. “Can you please?” she asked gesturing for him to help lift the saddle off the side of the stall. Bennie was bridled up and snickered at her as she entered, rubbing her hand on the mare. With his help, she was leading the gray horse out in no time. He walked her to the ring, then leaned on the gate to watch.

“Skip!” his father's voice boomed, “Ah'm in dar office, ya need owt.” She saw Skip give a wave and turn back to her as she got Bennie up to a trot. Riding felt good, like it usually did, and it wasn't at all uncomfortable to have Skip there. The barn melted away as she and the horse became one creature, her goals echoed in the animal's movements. There was joy in Bennie's response to her firm direction.

After her ride, she felt like the world made sense again. The crazy old men in her life were forgotten, at least for a few minutes, while she and Skip got Bennie settled for the evening. Her warm feeling of teamwork carried over to Skip and she didn't protest when he put his hand on the small of her back again. They walked out together, stopping in front of her father's horse was behaving now. “Ah'll take 'm out inna bit,” Skip boasted. Integra wasn't sure anyone should ride the steed anymore, but he did need exercise.

“Well, I'd better get back, getting a touch hungry,” her stomach reminded her with a little gurgle. She watched Skip lean forward awkwardly, his face looming in front of hers. Good Lord, was he trying to kiss her? She pulled her head back, but he had his eyes closed and kept coming closer. She felt his warm breath mixing with hers. Well, why not? She was grown up now after all. She leaned up to him and their lips touched. It wasn't unpleasant, but not the magical moment she'd heard about. His lips parted and a tongue pressed up against her lips. Integra wanted to pull away now, but he wrapped his arms around her neck. This was too gross! With his lips smashed against hers, she clenched her teeth. His eyes fluttered open and he murmured something, then closed them again giving her little mouth little kisses. She examined his far from perfect skin and compared it to the flawless white face she'd touched this morning, the lips, soft and cool. Integra imagined how they would feel against her. Skip's tongue again pushed and she thought about struggling free, she really did. Something in her body disagreed and her mouth opened for him. At that moment, Antaka reared up, crashing his hooves against his gate, smashing it to bits. The sound drew both Integra and Skip's attention, just as the massive body slammed them down. His arms released Integra quickly and she screamed, moving away from the terror of the horse stepping on the boy. His father came running full tilt, grabbing the large creature by the mane. The horse let himself be led away by the man as others came running into the barn, some with guns drawn, but a feeling in her stomach said it was too late. Integra watched Skip's blood soak into the wood flooring. She stood, a sea of calm amid the chaos of the moment, certain that something was dying inside her as Mr. Bennett's warning came back, “He's not a pet, Miss.”