For those of you who have seen the last chapter in the Hellsing manga, you'll know what this ficlet is depicting.
The first drop of blood on his tongue and he was back in that dungeon all those years ago. As it had been back then, he felt fire and rage and passion bubble through his long dead veins as the warm liquid slid down his throat.
Integra still tasted the same. Even when she had been a child, he had been able to feel the power and arrogance within her blood. He remembered his own blood swirling at the glory of her, at the magnificence she brought to the name of Hellsing. That had been years ago and yet still, there was so much life within her as evidenced by the blood he tasted.
He chuckled lightly at the thought of her calling herself a grandmother. She had years and years and years yet. He could practically see them all laid out in front of her.
Sitting up, he shifted closer to the source of the blood that still dripped from her ring finger. Gazing up at her, he could see the smirk still on her lined face. He grinned up at her, his sharp white teeth stained pink with her blood. Easing forward, he pressed his lips against her splayed fingers, perhaps slightly surprised that the gesture hadn't been met with another round of gunfire.
Surprises, surprises. He loved surprises.
Parting his lips, he let his tongue run against the still bleeding cut. He licked a circle of red around her finger, a blood red wedding band and almost sighed in contentment when Integra only flexed her hand to allow the wound to still bleed.
It was nice to be home.
THE END