Integra sat at her desk, her legs propped up on her desk. She was scowling, a cigar in one hand and a telephone in the other.
"Yes, I am fully aware of the consequences of my actions," she growled into the receiver. "I'll thank you, Sir Islands, to kindly remember who the head of this organization is!"
Integra was frustrated. It had been a terrible day. They had lost nearly a whole division of men. The mission had been a semi routine one, just an old warehouse occupied by what Hellsing assumed to be a headquarters for a rouge group of vampires. People had kept disappearing around the area and the old building was at the heart of the attacks. Naturally it was investigated and Hellsing's suspicions had been confirmed. They had sent some of the newest recruits to deal with it, thinking that it would be just a slightly more difficult task than usual, and would hopefully provide good experience to cut their teeth on.
Their hopes were quickly dashed. After the initial penetration of the building it was clear everything was going to hell. There were far more vampires than first anticipated and they had been very well armed. Clearly, they'd been expecting the attack. In the end there were only four survivors excluding Alucard, who had been sent to alleviate the situation.
Of course the Convention had been in an uproar since. Integra was on a short string with them to begin with, after destroying nearly all of London. She supposed they feared a repeat.
A high fast muttering could be heard on the other line. Integra took another drag off her cigar, her eyes glazed over from pretending to listen to her scolding. She refused to be treated like a child, she'd single-handedly secured the world from its own destruction once this decade, it wasn't fun for her and she had no more desire to repeat it then they had to watch it happen again. She had no way of knowing the man she'd sent to gather intel had been swayed by outside forces. She had her people clean up the mess, dispose of the rouge ghouls and hunt down the remaining vampires, what more did they want from her?
Integra was clearly getting sick of the lecture; she had real work to do. With a role of her eyes she put out her cigar and brought her feet from the desk to the floor.
"Thank you, sir for your very enlightening opinions," she spoke to the phone, clearly interrupting, "However, I do have more pressing matters to attend today then stroking your sense of well being or appealing to the better nature of an idiot. Good-bye."
And with that she hung up.
Her head was killing her; she leaned onto her desk and rubbed her temples.
It was going to be a very long week.
She was about to get up to eave when the phone rang again. She sneered at it as if wishing it to burst into flame. It didn't. She picked it up.
"What do you want now you insufferable old coot?" she answered, assuming it was Sir Islands, once again calling to chastise her.
It was apparent she was wrong as her face fell.
"My apologies," she murmured into the phone, uncomfortably embarrassed. She starred down at her desk.
The voice on the other end of the line said something. Integra looked up quickly.
"Excuse me?" she asked, disbelieving. Could she have heard right? No!
The voice spoke again, repeating the previous statement.
"I see," Integra said, her brow furrowed, she didn't have much choice did she? "Of course I accept the invitation. When am I to be expected for arrival?"
There was a great pause as Integra listened to what was being said. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline.
"That soon?" she exclaimed after a moment. "I do have responsibilities here; I can't just run around having tea whenever I take a fancy!"
Clearly the recipient wasn't expecting this answer. There was another pause as they replied.
"Your insolence is not appreciated," Integra said harshly, to what appeared to be a cheeky individual. "I will personally see to it that you are demoted if you have such another outburst, do not forget who you are representing. It is important to keep up the highest sense of decorum."
There was a short reply. It was obvious by Integra's expression she wasn't impressed.
"Thank-you," said Integra sullenly. "I will arrive tomorrow morning, I expect that is agreeable.
Integra didn't wait for a reply as she hung up. She was so sick of the human race she could vomit.
Now the rest of her day was shot to hell. She'd have to pack (the last time she's let someone else do it she's ended up without undergarments and Neosporin instead of toothpaste) and make arrangements for all the meetings and phone calls she would miss while she was gone. She didn't even want to think how the paperwork was going to pile up while she was gone.
Suddenly she had a great desire to curl up in a ball and hide under her desk. Everything had been so much harder since the incident with Millennium. It had taken everything she had to rebuild her life, to relearn everything that had once been second nature. There were no familiar faces, unless you counted those of her pet vampires. She had to recruit new men, replace her home practically from scratch, watch everyone fumble as they began to fill roles that had been previously been occupied with competent individuals, it had been a gargantuan adjustment.
Of course, there had been constant vampire attacks in London, they had fled there, thinking it to be the fallen city to which they could occupy safely, and with little fear of repercussion, for rumor had it that the great Hellsing organization had fallen.
It hadn't fallen though. Integra fought tooth and nail, demanding to be reinstated despite her inability to save a fair bit of London, she had made sure that Nazi bastards were isolated and destroyed, although the price had nearly been too much to bear.
Everyday the organization had fought some creature of darkness or another. There were no breaks, no sabbaticals.
All this under the scrutiny of a bunch of gossiping old fools, intent on seeing her fail.
She felt close to the edge. Everything was starting to catch up to her.
Now this. She'd been summoned to the Queen, to have tea. She wasn't a fool, she knew her Majesty had far more on her mind than earl grey or chamomile. Clearly there was something that needed discussion. She supposed it might be about this recent incident at with the sneak and the warehouse, but honestly she sincerely doubted it. The Queen had more faith in her than she did in herself, and would have gladly made her fell adequately ashamed of herself over the phone.
She sighed, she missed Walter. Lying bastard and traitor though he may have been, he always saw that her work was in order and her bags packed properly. Not to mention, when he went and had himself….changed, he'd had her best lighter in his vest pocket. She missed that especially. One just can't find them anymore, it had a certain flicker to it that appealed to her.
She starred at her desk. She'd almost caught up. It had been three years of hard struggle, but she'd almost seen it done. Now she was being thrown another gauntlet to run. It was almost cruel.
She sighed, and turned away from her workspace. She still had much to do before tomorrow morning; perhaps Police Girl would be willing to lend a hand this evening…
"What about this, Sir Integra?" asked Seras, clearly enjoying packing much more than was necessary, in Integra's opinion. Seras was holding up one of Integra's favorite dark green suits.
"No, Police Girl," she mumbled, going through her closet furiously. "The Queen gets upset when I wear suites to personal outings with her."
Seras put the suit back carefully in Integra's otherwise demolished closet.
"Why?" asked Seras carefully.
"She likes to delude herself with ideas that I will one day settle down and behave like a proper English lady."
Seras snorted. Integra smiled.
Integra gave up looking and walked over to her bed and sat down looking forlorn.
Seras saw this and quirked her head as if asking what was wrong.
Integra sighed.
"This whole fiasco with the Queen is disrupting everything," Integra hesitantly confided. "I still haven't the foggiest about what to do with all the work I'm going to miss and have to remake. I fear if I get behind I'll never catch up again."
Seras beamed.
"Is that all?" she asked enthusiastically. "I can help you Sir Integra!"
Integra was taken aback. The very idea of the Police Girl in her office banging around and being cheerful made her feel slightly ill. She was sure she'd come back to chaos. Seras, seeing the look on her face, rushed to placate her fears.
"Oh, Sir! I can do a good job. I swear it," she looked so enthusiastic, her hands pressed together and her feet doing a happy little bounce. "I got top marks at the academy, and you know I'm good in a pinch. At the very least I can make sure things stay organized."
Sir Integra eyed her suspiciously. What choice did she have? It was that or just leave it. She was certainly not going to allow one of the new idiots working under her anywhere near important documents.
"Alright," she conceded. "But you must use your best manners, just this evening I talked to a horrible secretary representing the Queen, the little snot had the audacity to talk back! I will not tolerate such behavior unless it is absolutely necessary to the-"
But before Integra had the chance to say what exactly it was necessary to, Seras had rushed her into a very tight embrace.
"Oh, thank you!" Seras cried.
Integra, on the other hand, was having a rather difficult breathing from all the pressure being exerted on her ribs. She tolerated it only for a moment, feeling foreign in the embrace of another. It felt….odd, but it could have been the lack of oxygen.
"Can't….breathe….need….air," she managed to rasp out, her face turning a rather delicate shade of pink.
"Ah," said an alarmed Seras jumping back. She saluted as Integra straightened her cloths so they looked properly dignified.
"Well," Integra breathed. "I suppose now I just need to find the proper attire."
And with that she delved back into her closet.
As Integra sat, sipping a tea that was long cold, she tried to appear as demur and lady like as one who runs a secrets organization dedicated to killing the undead can. The Queen had been going on for ages about nothing. The whole ordeal had so far consisted of small talk.
Integra was absolutely terrified.
She had no idea why the Queen insist she come to this godforsaken tea party, but she knew that the old bag wasn't as senile as she seemed, if she'd been called here it was for a reason. By personal experience Integra knew that the longer it took her Majesty to get to the point, the harder the blow would undoubtedly be. It was like she was setting up for a really terrible dessert by filling you with only mediocre courses before hand.
They'd been sitting there a little over four hours. Integra was fearing Armageddon, and her end of the world sirens were going off in her head.
"Do you like sand, my dear?" asked the frail looking Queen beaming at Integra over her cup.
Integra, who hadn't been listening, nodded politely.
"Ah, that's wonderful. I think I'll finance a trip for you as my gift," she continued. "I hear the Virgin Islands are lovely this time of year, and the irony of their purpose does appeal to me."
"Gift?" asked Integra. "I assure you madam, as I am sure you are aware, I'm much too busy for vacationing. I have never been to, nor do I plan on going anywhere outside wherever is necessary for a good long while. Keep your presents."
The Queen frowned. Integra leered.
"Well what else should I get you then?"
"Why must you insist on getting me anything?" exclaimed Integra, exasperated.
The Queen picked delicately at the doily cloth on her knee.
"Why, Integra, it's customary to get the bride a wedding present."
Integra choked on some cold tea, the Queen just smiled at her.