'Twas a normal day in Millennium; Schrödinger wandered around, looking for whatever trouble he could get into. He had been interested in a mouse that he saw scurrying about the floor of the Millennium complex, but after batting it around for a few minutes, it died, and, like a normal cat, he lost interest when it stopped moving. He sighed pitifully; it appeared no one wanted to play with the bored cat boy. His ears pricked up as he heard the vague sound of music from the main hall. Wondering what it was, he followed the suspicious noise.

When he reached the main hall, he saw the source of the noise; he smiled as a mischievous plan came into his mind. Rip Van Winkle was singing proudly to all of the troops, including the higher ups. It was her shining moment, and Schrödinger was determined to ruin it. Slyly, he slinked up to the stereo cranking out the music she was gleefully singing to, He reached over to unplug the stereo, but something stopped him. Being so close to her singing, the full magnitude of her voice hit him.

It was beautiful, her voice. It was raw with passion and deep contentment; there was no way he could destroy such a perfect moment for her. He sat down where he was and listened to her singing. It filled him, making him feel warm and happy inside. When her concert was finally over, and when everyone had left but her, he walked up to her with emotional tears in his eyes. With her back turned, she did not see the tears, but she could sense his presence. "Vat do you want, Schrödinger?" she asked harshly, turning around abruptly. Upon seeing the tears, her eyes widened in shock; he wasn't the emotional type, why was he crying?

"Schrödinger, vat's the matter?" she asked worriedly, rushing up to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Your singing... It vas so beautiful," he sobbed. Rip, taken aback at first, relaxed and smiled at him. "You really thought it vas that good?" she asked happily. Schrödinger wiped the tears from his eyes away on his sleeve and nodded. "Vielen Dank, Schrödinger," she said, her voice full of emotion and appreciation. "Rip?" he whispered. "Ja?" she asked. "Vould you mind... singing for me now?" he asked nervously. "Not at all," she said as she cleared her throat and began singing Das Engelandlied.

"Heute wollen wir ein Liedlein singen,

Trinken wollen wir den kühlen Wein

Und die Gläser sollen dazu klingen,

Denn es muß, es muß geschieden sein.

Gib' mir deine Hand, deine weiße Hand,

Leb' wohl, mein Schatz, leb' wohl mein Schatz,

Leb' wohl, lebe wohl

Denn wir fahren, denn wir fahren,

Denn wir fahren gegen Engeland, Engeland."

"How vas that?" she asked as she finished her solo. "Beautiful," he said as his eyes welled up with tears again, "... just like you," he whispered. He blushed horribly, hoping Rip didn't catch his last line of speech; she did. Her face turned very red and she turned around quickly to hide her blush. "I'm sorry," he managed to choke out. That wasn't right, he couldn't have feelings for Rip, his superior officer. She turned around slowly, "It ist alright, things like this happen all of the time," she obviously lied. They stood in awkward silence for a moment. "Do you really think I am beautiful?" she asked nervously. People had used the word cute to 

describe her sometimes, but never beautiful. Schrödinger, blush still covering his hot face, nodded.

"Danke," she whispered. They stood in more awkward silence. "I must be going. I haf a mission," she said quickly, walking away. That was a lie. Schrödinger had checked the schedule; there were no missions scheduled for today. Rip hesitated as she walked away, turning around and looking at him. She walked up to him nervously and gave him a kiss on the cheek before exiting quickly. Schrödinger touched his cheek gently, thinking about how awkward breakfast would be tomorrow.

--

This idea for a Rip X Schrödinger story sort of just came to me. I am learning German, so please excuse any grammatical errors when I use German. Lyrics are from a WWII song, but I'm not a Nazi. Lyric translation can be done on your own. Hellsing belongs to the amazing Kohta Hirano, the world's only overweight Asian (my friends and I were talking about it today) , not me.

Vielen dank- Thank you very much.

Danke- Thanks