Author's Note: Walter and Teggie. What a dynamic duo. I knew this was a long time coming, so I just…here you go. I don't even know right now.
Walter Dornez prided himself on many things. One of them being sparkly dishes. As Hellsing's retainer, he made sure that no silverware went unpolished and, more currently, no plate left with dishwasher residue.
Curse this 20th century newfangled technology! He grumbled, the youthful part of him quipping that he sounded more and more like his old man every day-not that he'd ever had much to go on; in reality Arthur's father was more of a paternal figure to him than his own ever was. He frowned as he looked at his reflection in the plate before scrubbing viciously-as if that could wipe his genealogy away.
He was pulled out of introspection by a tugging on his apron strings. Jerking in surprise, he looked behind him to see a blonde toddler in an overall-dress using his weight to hold herself up. Looking up at him, the girl squealed happily and tugged harder, one chubby arm reaching up to him. He smiled patiently and sat the plate down before picking her up and carting her off to the nursery.
"Miss Integra, you are supposed to be napping. How did you get out of your…" he stopped as he saw the state of the playpen. "Young lady-"he swore softly as he eyed the ripped mesh and tale-tell signs of infantile pen-climbing: it seemed a playpen would no longer hold the adventurous babe. Biting his lip, he rocked on the balls of his feet. "Somebody's been busy." He looked at her and shook his head. He couldn't help but feel for her. She was a poor, neglected thing with a dead mother and an inattentive father: a child after his own heart. He suddenly got an idea and tugged off his apron with one hand, grabbing a blanket before walking back to the kitchen and preparing a pallet for her to rest on.
"I suppose you'll just have to go around with stuffy old Walter for the rest of the day until Papa can watch you. Too bad for you; you really should have chosen the playpen." Giggling, Integra beamed up at the man as he lay her down and tucked her in. "Now stay."
Walter made sure she'd be comfortable in the pallet before picking up the almost-forgotten dish. He tilted his head and looked again plate until it shone.
After all, the butler in that reflection would never let a plate have any residue.
Afterword: Pssh-cutesy.