A celebration of fifty.

Hellsing isn't mine.


The end of an era, some would call it. Some would say it was the beginning of something. One hundred years ago, a man took hold of a monster, like most men do. He took it in. He took it and made it his own monster.

This is not as metaphorical as one would wish for it to be.

Now, her monster. One hundred years of servitude. One hundred years of perfecting the art of monsters. Now, he fell to her hands.

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. Such a name that should be remembered for another century. Such a woman that she should be remembered for another century. Such a woman.

Alucard twirled a strand of her hair in his fingers. She made a frustrated noise at him. He only smirked.

"Today, I'm your servant for a century."

"That's wonderful news," Integra said and attempted to pull her hair from him again. "Now, would you please?"

"A century. That is quite some time," he said to the twenty one year old girl before him. "That is quite some time."

"Alucard, I'm working. Could you go muse someplace else?" Integra questioned and he frowned this time. He tugged her hair a little harder than necessary. She swatted his hand away and he stood looked at the woman before him. She had only been his master since 1989. It hadn't even been ten years yet. A decade was nothing in comparison to a century. A millennium. That was awaited. One thousand years of servitude to the Hellsing family. He wanted to sneer at the thought. To drive it away and out of his head.

A millennium. Such foolishness.

Integra looked at the vampire in his thoughtful state.

"Shall I bake a cake?" she asked him and he frowned again. He scoffed and turned form her.

"No. This is hardly a time to celebrate. I was imprisoned against my will. My will though, can break your spells, Integra."

She glared at his use of her name. She hated hearing the vampire let it roll off his tongue. He did it to torture her. She knew it.

"Well, what did you do at the fifty year mark?"

The vampire didn't answer, but looked at Integra carefully. "Nothing."

"Ah, well then," she stood and brushed the vampire by. He could smell her. She went to a polished wood cabinet and took a bottle of wine from it. She poured two glasses and handed one to the vampire. He looked at it carefully.

Integra held her glass up, a toast.

"To fifty years with Hellsing."

"To one hundred years with Hellsing," the vampire retorted.

"To fifty more."

"To one hundred more."

Their arms entwined at the elbows, a handshake with wine. She sipped from hers and he from his, although it looked quite the opposite.

Integra's red lips left the rim of the glass.

"To forever."