EDITTED: I corrected a little bit of Wolfe's linguistics. But I didn't elliminate her accent or Anderson's altogether. Darkhorse is an awesome company to translate Japanese comics to the English language, and it's almost impossible to read their accents because the writers overdo them. So, at least I'm not overdoing them. But if I dropped the accents, it would lose a flavor to the story.

TITLE: Blasphemous Rumors
SONG: "Blasphemous Rumors" by Depeche Mode
AUTHOR: Alyxandria Jolivet
RATING: PG
CONTENT: Curse word
GENRE: Mental Trip
SUMMARY: Dreadnot made a challenge on the Hellsing livejournal community stating that to enter the challenge one must write a fanfic in regards to a Kill Bill quote. Ever the one to love writing fanfic and taking up challenges, I stepped up and this is the product.

Lately, I've been in love with Heinkel Wolfe. I can't tell you why. I wish Hirano would expand on her character; she's just so badass. Anyways, Heinkel Wolfe goes to confession. It gives you a deeper look into what makes Wolfe tick.

: Blasphemous Rumors :
I don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumors
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humor
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing
- Blasphemous Rumors; Depeche Mode
: Blasphemous Rumors :

She waited there, teetering on toe to heel while relaxing against the wall near the prayer candles. One unshaped brow raised curtly in honor of the delicately accented statue of Mary, biting a glossed lip as her mind swam in a sea of sin committed before. A hand dipped into the right trouser pocket, thumbing the smooth beads of her rosary as she chanted a few carefully memorized prayers, patiently preparing for her turn.

Stepping out from inside the box, her partner's head lowered in piety as she crossed herself and recited perfect Latin prayers over and over again without strain. Heinkel looked away, trembling as she could only imagine the sins Yumiko confessed on Yumie's behalf. It must've been terribly difficult for the nun, particularly since she was a pacifist by nature whose terrific power was abused and manipulated by the Vatican. But.. it was necessary. Unfortunately, innocence had to be sacrificed in order to further God's will. Even God's love for King David was skewed in order to create Christ's bloodline.

"Heinkel?" The welcoming voice summoned her into the familiar chambers. Crossing herself while reciting a small prayer for the lives she had taken, Heinkel picked out the lighter in her pocket and pressed the flame into the wicker of a blessed candle while kissing the cross of her rosary simultaneously. Slipping the Zippo into her trousers, she proceeded to saunter into the confessional booth. Closing the door behind her, Wolfe turned to face a taunting screen.

Heinkel could hear another person adjust their weight on the other side of the screen, heavy breathing vibrating the room separated by a thin wall. "Hello sister," the warm voice greeted from the opposite booth.

"Hey Alex," Wolfe replied. She raised one hand to peel back the screen blocking the other booth's view. The wood slate slid back, revealing the friendly features of her coworker, a warm smile breaking over Anderson's defined Scottish features. She smirked, noticing that the paladin took the time to shave this morning, the heavy spice of aftershave intermingled with incense causing the sister's stomach to lurch. Even if it was a ritual saved for every Sunday, Heinkel never quite got used to seeing Anderson so clean-shaven.

The paladin closed his eyes and languidly bowed his head, pressing naked fingers into dry lips as he collected his thoughts. "Are ye ready, lass?"

"Yeah..."

"In nomine patris, et fillii, et spiritus sancti..."

"Amen."

The priest cleared his throat, pressing a napkin against his mouth before he carefully selected a passage from the Word of God. "Peace aye leave wit you, my peace aye give unteh you: not as th'world giveth, give I unto ye. Let not yer heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

Wolfe lazily draped her arms along the bottom of the booth's wide frame, taking off weight from her knees as she kneeled into a soft pillow. Resting her head into the crook of her left arm, Heinkel looked up at Anderson through the candy tint of her shades before plucking the frames off her nose and slipping them into her vest pocket. "Father, it's been a veek since my last confession."

"A week..? Why s'long, lass?" Anderson inquired, blinking at the woman through thick spectacles.

She merely shrugged in reply. "Vell... I don't like to confess my sins to anyone but you, Alex. It's become a ritual for me. I'd feel... out ov place confessing to any one other zen you..."

The priest smiled down at his friend, warmed by this compliment. "Weel, aye don't suggest ye depend on me solely for these confessions, lass. Aye know ye go through a lot in a week, an aye don't want te be held accountable fer barring yer way te heaven iffin ye died before ye could come tae me. But since yer already here and aye'm already here, let's forgive these sets of sins an' get you a clean record fe heaven."

Heinkel smirked, looking off to the side and studying a corner as Anderson's warm words flooded the tiny booth. She felt heady with the sound of his booming voice. "Vell, zince you put it like zat... zis veek I killed thirty-five men. One was a former bishop. I vas vorking under ze Chief's orders, I did vat God intended me te do. I took life in ze Lord's name."

"God is pleased w'your effort an' dedication, sister," the priest hushed. "Many men would falter from fear. But God's blessed ye w'strength an' good judgment."

Heinkel closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Yeah... He's blessed me alright.." One hand slipped into her trouser pocket, the sound of glass beads clacking against one another breaking the silence as Wolfe nervously flicked a thumb and finger against the stream of beads in search for the cross tipping the prayer necklace.

"Heinkel..?" Anderson blinked, eyes twitching between the woman's face ridden in anxiety and her jerky movements. "...Is there somethin' ye ain't tellin' me, Lass?"

In reply, the nun let out a deep sigh then sank backwards into the ground, turning her back towards the thin wall separating the confessor from her source of forgiveness. Anderson followed her, moving away from the stool and falling onto his knees as he adjusted his height, peering through the open window and looking down as Wolfe curled into the corner. "...Sister... What's wrong?"

"Alex... I think I did something very, very evil," Wolfe said hesitantly, her voice breaking as a nervous choke gripped her throat. She picked out an unlit cigarette from her vest, clasping the tip with her lips and sucking the cold nuance of nicotine from the mouthpiece. Anderson observed as Heinkel chewed the cotton bit, patiently waiting her confession as he maintained an appropriate distance. She smiled, the display sad. "I... I think I've been doing something very evil for a very long time now..."

"There is nothin' Christ can't forgive, Lass. You are a wee child in th'eyes of God no matter what sin ye may confess, as long as ye regret, confess, an' beg fer forgiveness," Anderson's voice turned into a whisper, speaking to Heinkel as he would a spooked horse.

Heinkel snorted, speaking around her cigarette in a tone cracked by emotion and the effects smoking for over a decade. "That's th' thing, Alex. I don't think he can forgive me. Y'see, I don't forgive him."

The priest paused at those words, his face plastered in horror and confusion as he studied Heinkel in a new light. Preparing himself for some startling revelation, Anderson's voice became less gentle and more inquisitive, brushing one cheek against the right frame of the window as he spoke, "What are ye sayin', lass...?"

She just laughed a little, that chuckle breaking into a slight sob. Pressing the back of her hand against her lips, Wolfe let a few slow moments pass between herself and the Paladin before her she could say something... anything to fill this void of awkward silence triggered by her guilt, "Y'know about super heros right? Superman..? Spider-Man...? Batman...?"

Anderson rubbed his chin, furrowing thick blond brows while he spoke in low sentences, "Yea, aye know 'em. Some of t'orphans collect comics. They like te show me 'em, read 'em tae me."

"Yeah vell... ze essential characteristic of ze superhero mythology iz, there's ze superhero, and there's ze alter ego." Wolfe pressed a heavy head into the wall of the booth, blue eyes swimming upwards as they studied the dimly lit candles overhead. "Batman iz actually Bruce Vayne, Spider-Man iz actually Peter Parker. Vhen he vakes up in ze morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on zat costume to become Spider-Man."

"Ye..." The paladin agreed, nodding in response to her story and encouraging her to continue.

The assassin sighed, slouching further into the floor as she forced herself to relax in an uncomfortable situation. "Vell... Superman's different. Superman did not become Superman, Superman vas born Superman. Vhen Superman vakes up in ze morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit vith ze big red "S", zat's ze blanket he vas vapped in as a baby when ze Kents found him. Those are his clothes. Vhat Kent vears, ze glasses, ze business suit, zat's ze costume. Zat's ze costume Superman vears to blend in vith us."

The candles seemed to dim, wickers cutting short as wax continued to melt. Anderson narrowed his eyes and pressed both index fingers into pale lips, mind sinking and searching for the answer to this story as Wolfe paused to breath, her mind delving into a selection of meanings to her story.

"Clark Kent iz how Superman views us," Her words were deliberately short, grinding the quote into the priest's head. "And vhat are ze characteristics of Clark Kent? He's veak, he's unsure of himself... he's a coward... Alex. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on ze whole human race. Sort of like Heinkel Volfe and her priest alter-ego iz to ze church."

"...Heinkel..."

"Alex. Vhen men look at me, zey see another man. Vhy do I dress like a man? Vhy do I prefer ze Priest's robe over a Nun's simple dress? To evoke fear, respect..." Wolfe swallowed hard as she searched for her words. "Zis... Zis is me, Alex. And every night I look up to God and I ask him vhy.. vhy he made me like zis. Vhy he had to give ze priesthood to men and vhy he had to punish me for being a voman."

"...Heinkel..."

The assassin turned around then, crawling towards the frame as she searched for a reflection of understanding in Anderson's gentle features. "Alex, I know vhat Eve did. I know vhat Delilah did. But vhen Mary gave birth to Christ, isn't zat enough? Isn't zat enough to forgive us women for our sins? Alex, I don't vant this. I don't vant to vear these clothes just to get ze respect I deserve. I vant... to be myself. I vant to grow my hair out. I vant to wear ze nun's robe. I don't vant to be zis, Alex. I don't van't to pretend to be a man. Fuck!" Slamming a hand into the wall, Wolfe turned and kicked the same place as her frustration layered ontop of itself. She collapsed into the floor, her voice growing hoarse from withheld tears. "...Alex... How long can Superman pretend to Clark Kent before he forgets who he vas born as? How long can he be a commentary on ze whole human race before he forgets he's so much more zen zat?" Wolfe let out a shaky sigh, searching the ground for answers but only coming up with more and more questions. "...How long can I keep pretending teh be a man before I forget I'm a voman? How long can I be a commentary on ze whole Catholic church's biased gender roles before I forget vat I vus born as?"

Anderson sighed, leaning away from the open frame as he pressed the back of his head into the opposite wall, removing his glasses as he massaged the area between his eyes between a thick thumb and index finger. "...Lass... God works in mysterious ways. God has a plan."

Wolfe snorted, spitting out the unlit cigarette into her lap as she growled off to the side, "..Vhat God has iz a sick sense of humor, Alex. And I'm tired of being ze subject of his big joke."

"Heinkel. Listen tae yerself," Anderson kneeled there for a moment, gritting his teeth as he tried to think of a way to convey his feelings over the situation safely. Nervously, he picked himself off the ground and opened the door to his side of the booth, leaving. The sound of heavy boots rotated around the confessional room before Heinkel's latch clicked open, revealing the paladin's massive form. He discreetly closed the door behind him, crouching in the small quarters as he gingerly collected the assassin into his arms. "C'mon now lass, while aye do admit God does have a sense of humor, aye do not think it is intended to inflict pain on his dear children. Now then, girl. Look at me... c'mon now, look at me lass."

Foggy eyes blurred as Anderson pressed a rough and scarred hand under Wolfe's chin, stroking a stray thread of hair imitating sideburns with his thumb. "Now, Lass. Ye sit there sayin' that ye wear priest's clothin' tae get respect. But ye have tae understand ye are more extraordinary than any woman I've ever seen. Especially tae survive in this church bein' who ye were born as. Ye shouldn't be ashamed of how ye are dressin'. Ye aren't disguising yerself as anytin but what you really are." He smiled, patting her cheek tenderly as she stared alarmed circles into his gentle features. "That's who Wolfe Heinkel is, Lass. She's not posin' as a priest, an' she's not jus' a nun. Don't ye see, gael? God made ye a woman but gave ye th' spirit of a man. Ye have what most of us envy, lass. It's a gift."

"Heh..." Wolfe smiled off the corner of her mouth, gazing in dazed comfort as she swallowed Anderson's revelation. "I hope you are vight, Alex. I veally hope you are vight."

Anderson smiled down at his friend and fellow executioner, pulling her away from his body as he looked down at her through the thick lenses of his spectacles. "Now then lass. God forgives ye for yer sins. Y'should say ten Hail Marys, three Our Fathers, an' th' Apostle's Creed. Aye also ask that ye pray teh God fer guidance if ye ever feel confused again. He never fails tae listen. He'll understand better than aye." Anderson closed his eyes, removing one hand from Wolfe as he picked the silver cross dangling from the chain around his neck, raising it to his lips as he silently whispered the prayer of absolution. "God te Father of Mercies, through th'death an' resurrection of His Son, has reconciled th' world tae Himself and sent te Holy Spirit among us fer te forgiveness of sins. An' aye absolve ye from yer sins in th' name of th' Father, an' o'th' Son, and o'th' Holy Spirit."

"Amen..." Wolfe replied in gratification, blindly searching the floor of the station as she collected the cigarette she had thrown carelessly away.

Anderson kissed his cross and looked up, searching for the woman's deep blue eyes underneath the rag of uneven blond bangs. "Give thanks tae our lord, for he is good."

"His mercy endures forever..."

Amen.

Author's Notes: Well, I'm a big fan of AAxHW. I just think they make the perfect couple. They just look adorable together. I'd love to see them couple up and kick major ass. However, while being a fan of AAxHW I'm not particularly a fan of outright romance between the two. Being a former Catholic, I know how dedicated priests and nuns are to their faith and know just how restrained they are by their spirituality. It's as if sexuality doesn't really exist. When you replace sexuality for God's love, human companionship just doesn't seem to cut it. The love of a priest and a nun stems deeper than sexual or romantic love. They are so passionate and caring for other people, it's crazy. I really can't fathom that love, I can't. It's like the love between a mother and a child, it's just this natural inert trust that fails to have an end.

Then again, Iscariot are psycho so I'm probably making the situation more realistic than Hirano ever envisioned for his two little psycho assassins.

Anyways. This fic was a response to Dreadnot's challenge. I chose the Superman Dilemma quote from Kill Bill vol 2 as my subject. It worked nicely through.