Ashes to Ashes

By okama no kama tsukai

Almost twenty years ago, England and her people lost two very important things, their pride and something much more… something that means a lot in the Hellsing Organisation…

On a fine summer's day in August, Pip Bernadette had just returned from a side mission asked of him by Sir Integra Hellsing, which involved him 'nicely' reminding a left-side business of the favour they had yet to repay. First thing he notice when he went through the city of London was that was somewhat deserted. People were around, certainly, but not as many as one would expect on such a day. Also, there seemed to be a large amount of people in pubs considering it was only mid afternoon.

Deciding that the English were people who could never be fully understood, Pip shrugged it off and made his way to the Hellsing headquarters. However, as he walked up to the main gates, he began to suspect that something was off. First of all, the guards who should normally be standing at the gates were both in the side room built in the wall. In fact, he had to knock on the door to be granted access into the property, and the guard he talked to seemed to be in a rush to go back inside to do… well, whatever he was doing.

The next thing that put Pip on guard was the level of noise. The Hellsing grounds were quiet. Suspiciously quiet. No sounds from the firing squad, nor from the kitchens. In fact, it seemed to be deserted. With his available eye, Pip looked around the compound, cigarette hanging limply from his lips.

Where in the name of God was everyone?

Chewing on the cigarette filter, Pip scuffed his boots along the dirt as he made his way towards the back entrance of the main house. Entering the foyer, he looked around the deserted halls, listening hard for any sign of life. It was strange – no matter how or when he tried, either Walter or one of the higher maids would greet (or apprehend) anyone who made their way into the building. Yet right now, he had been standing there for well over five seconds, and still no movement.

Suddenly, a dull roar erupted from both near the kitchens and the barracks. Freezing, Pip tried to think of what would cause such a commotion. Intruders? Freaks? One of Alucard's sadistic pranks? After few moments, the noise had settled down, and the sound of several doors opening replaced it. Blinking, Pip watched several maids and some of his men pass down the corridor that led to either the kitchens or the washrooms. Those who had gone to the former later exited with uncountable bottles of beer and other forms of alcohol. But these people were soon gone too, and the Frenchman was once again left in silence.

Shaking his head, he was about to go find out where these people had run off to when someone falling down the stairs caught his attention. It was a woman with ginger-coloured hair, wearing a skirt that was just too short (though he thought that the hem was at a perfect height, mind you).

"Yo, police girl," Pip drawled, his accent slurring the words even more, "What the hell is going on?"

Still trying to untangle her limbs while trying to retain what little modesty she had left, it took a moment for Seras to reply. "Eh? What you mean, captain?"

Crossing his arms, Pip looked for the best way to explain. "The silence, and then that… uproar… and why did everyone suddenly appear and go piss and get booze?"

After taking a moment to absorb his words, Seras blinked. "Well, it's lunch break, but just before Flintoff made a cracker shot to the off-side, though that Pointing fellow somehow managed not to clip it, so right now it's 270/5… but really, this innings has been quite slow in the run count, we ought to be getting more wickets…"

Pip just stared at the young vampire. "What in blazes are you saying, woman?" From what he could gather, which was not much, something was happening which everyone seemed to know about. Except him. This fact didn't sit too well with him, as he felt a bit left out. Especially since alcohol consumption seemed to be involved.

Seeing a dark look cross over the captain's face quite quickly, Seras began to feel a bit nervous. "Say, captain," she started slowly, shifting her weight between her feet, "Do you think you could help me get some stuff from the kitchens? I would've asked Walter but he's always doing it, and of course asking Master is daft …"

Eyeing her, he paused. "Do I get alcohol?"

Confused, Seras said, "Well, I guess there'll be a few bottles left in the fridge, if your men haven't already made off with all of it."

"Right, let's move."

Burdened under the weight of a tray of numerous blood bags and trying to hold onto as many bottles of beer as possible, Pip somehow managed to follow Seras up the stairs, moving towards Integra's office…

Pausing, Pip found it hard to believe that whatever the others were up to with alcohol was hardly something the great Hellsing would be doing herself. "Uh, Seras…" he somehow managed to mumble around the bottleneck in his mouth, "Is the boss doing this too?"

Looking over her shoulder (and somehow managing not to trip over), she answered, "Oh, of course – Sir Integra is an avid fan, as is me and Walter, though he seems to be able to contain his passion a bit more… Master, well, I'm not sure of anything about him and his likes and dislikes…"

Shaking his head in wonder, neither of them noticed the dark figure slowly accumulating behind them (not that they would at any other time). So when the low, smooth voice filled the hallway, one only wonders how Pip managed not to choke on his bottle, or how Seras didn't drop the platter of sandwiches and soup she held.

"You are taking your sweet time, police girl; I was beginning to think you had deserted us…" Alucard's long canines flashed as he grinned upon his shaken audience, "Oh, I see you've brought the Frenchman along… perhaps he'll join us? Especially since he's carrying my lunch…"

"Ah… of course, Alucard…" Pip managed to say as the inserfato now led the way to the oak doors at the end of the hall.

Sitting behind her large desk, glasses glinting ominously, whatever paperwork she had to do was pushed to the side. What would normally be done immediately could wait until later. This was more important than her pride in her work ethic – this was about her pride as an Englishman.

A knock on the doors lifted her gaze away from where it had been for the past few hours, and the glint finally left her glasses. "Yes, come in," she barked impatiently.

"Ho… it seems Master has her fiery temper in all aspects of her life," Alucard drawled as he drifted through the wood while it was still being opened by his underling. Choosing to ignore his comments, her eyes found Seras trying to edge around the older vampire while upsetting the tray she carried. "Seras, do you realise that it's going to restart soon? Hurry and bring the food her, girl."

After the kitten had sped up and made a beeline for the huge desk, Pip took in the scene awaiting him. Integra was seated at her desk, but her chair was angled so that she looked to the object that sat on the far corner, and seemed to be radiating a strange light. Walter was sitting in a padded armchair to Integra's left, and seemed to be slightly impatient as well. Alucard was now making his way to her right, where another chair stood. Once Seras had handed out the food, she had taken a smaller chair that stood to the left of Walter. Moving forward to approach the group (and so that Alucard would stop looking at him and what he carried), he realised what the object they were looking at was.

A television.

He still couldn't see what was on the screen, but before he could take a better look, he decided that now was the perfect time to give the blood-thirsty vampire what he wanted. Afterwards, he edged away slowly, and made his way to where Seras was now sitting, trying desperately hard to chew on a bread crust. "Seras… why are we watching tv? Is there a Star Wars marathon?" After all, that would make sense. Everyone loved Star Wars.

Integra snorted, made some remark about stupid American films but otherwise didn't enlighten him as she motioned for a bottle of beer. Sighing, he passed one over, and then one to Walter, who had a strange glint in his eyes. The same glint he usually got when about to fight a whole squadron of opposing forces. Turning back to Seras, who had now moved onto some tomato soup, he tried again.

"So, not Star Wars… 'The Bill's 1000th episode?"

Finally managing to swallow her food, the young vampire looked at him as if he had just asked for her if Alucard was actually Elvis in disguise (well, he could be). "You… you honestly don't know?"

"… why else would I be asking, I wonder?"

"For God's sake, Pip, it's the Ashes!"

A few seconds past. "What… it is a funeral?"

Seras stared at him with a disbelieving look on her face, which she soon covered with her face, mumbling about how impossible it was.

Walter looked over, and smiled. "Bernadette, you've been in this country for a while now, correct?" The man nodded. "Well then, you would have noticed a little sport of ours. It's played on a large oval a grass with a rectangular pitch down the middle, with a stump at either end. One person throws a ball at another, who tries to hit it with a wooden bat. I do hope you know the name of this old pastime?"

Removing his hat and ruffling his hair, he thought about it. Oh yes, that ridiculous game where everyone wore white, threw the ball in an absurd manner that didn't even go straight, people throwing themselves in the air to catch the ball which could easily break their bare fingers at the speed it was going, and with the people not holding bats yelling at normally random moments. "Oui… it's named after some bug, no?"

The smile never wavered. "Well, one could make that connection… It's cricket, one of England's oldest games other than football. This particular game is a very important one, we are playing against our arch rivals, the Australians. Just before lunch began, Matthew Clarke was caught by Jones at 56 runs, and they have 4 wickets in hand. But that Hoggard… if he keeps bowling like he has been, I think we'll be doing well…"

Glancing over at Pip, he saw the slightly glazed look over the Frenchman's eyes. Chuckling, he patted his shoulder. "Never mind, you'll learn someday. Now, let's just hope that England pick up the pace before Sir Integra goes down to the ground herself."

"I heard that, Walter," the said female knight growled as she watched the images of the fieldsmen walking back onto the field. "Honestly, the one year our team seems strong enough to take the Ashes back, and we can't even aim the ball…"

"Ah, I noticed that," Pip commented, taking a sip from his bottle, "None of the men can throw the ball properly. It goes one way, then bounces the other way. There is no control…"

Slowly, Integra turned her head to look at the Frenchman. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, instead closing her eyes and frowning hard. "Alucard…" she finally sighed, leaning back in her chair, "Why is it that a man who lives in this compound has no comprehension of cricket?"

A smirk formed on the vampire's face as he looked at his master's obvious pain (well, obvious to him.) "Ah… that would be one of life's little mysteries…"

Three hours later, Australia was out at 387, and England was up to bat. All they had to do was get the runs without being too risky, yet Shane Warne's first ball took out Trescothick at 27, being caught by Ricky Ponting, leaving England 32/1. As the hours past, the seemingly small target of 129 runs seemed to get further and further away, and more wickets were taken by both Warne and Brett Lee, both at whom Integra cursed profusely…

"Damn that Warne," Integra growled, fists clenching in front of her, "How did he get 4 wickets and let by only 31 runs! How are we 116/7, goddamn it!"

Pip could only think about how silly the whole thing was. Who want a pile of ashes, anyway?

Finally, at 6:29pm, Australian fast bowler Brett Lee ran his thumb over the stictching before looking down the pitch at Ashley Giles. As he began his long run up, the young English batsman tapped his bat to the pitch before him, eyes ready to fix on the red leather. The ball flew down the lane, reaching speeds well over 100km/h…

"YES!" Integra jumped up from her seat, fist pumping in the air, as the ball left Giles bat and made a beeline for the boundary, "Take that, tourists!". Pip took turns from watching the uncharacteristically animated woman to watching the crowd on the screen act in exactly the same manner as the ball hit the white rope that surrounded the oval before the fieldsmen could lay a hand to it. He then looked at Seras, whose face had lit up as she laughed and clapped her hands together. Walter was singing some song which he has no patience to listen to, and even Alucard's grin had widened. If he listened carefully, he could hear a distant roar similar to what he had heard earlier from downstairs and in the barracks.

After what seemed an eternity, everyone had calmed down – even Integra had sat back down and was in the process of lighting a cigar.

"So… I am guessing you won that game," Pip drawled, putting his hat back on. "So… you get some ashes, and that's it?"

"What? Oh, no… it's only 2 games to 1," Walter informed him, stretching his arms, "We need to win the next game to get the Ashes."

"Not that the actual cup ever leaves this country," Alucard added, also stretching his arms.

"And that's how it should be," Integra huffed indignantly, blowing smoke out in front of her. "To think we'd let the Australians actually take with them? I think not."

Pip could only stare at the television. There was more? Oh sweet Mary…

Heyy… I wrote that in 3, 4 hours… no wonder it's crap. Just like how the aussies are right now. Bloody hell, guys, don't drop your game now! How could you lose 2 games to the poms! AARGH!

(yes, I'm Australian, and my national pride is being ripped away by the team who share my half-English blood at this very moment… it's really annoying watching the series with my mum, since she's from England… gargh… good thing I don't live with her…)

So, review it you like. Actually, this was my first hellsing fic… I could never bother writing down my ideas before, so… yes.