Author's ramble:
This isn't an "Integra-cries-on-Alucard's-shoulder" story: far from it. Those make me want to cry on someone's shoulder. Yes, I have seen them. They are written by some sick, sick people. Now that I've said that…!
As far as timing goes, this story doesn't have a specific time. It's just here, there, or anywhere you think it could make sense. It would probably be… well, maybe not very late… but soon after Seras was turned, definitely. On that note, I don't have a direct reason for Integra's cranky feelings. Do we always need reasons to feel down?
Integra wearily slid into her office with all the enthusiasm of a wasted, bullet-ridden ghoul. Moods rarely struck her that left her feeling absolutely useless, but when they did, she preferred to be alone to wallow in them. Sir Hellsing could not afford to be in doubt in public.
The notoriously aloof woman sank into her austere chair with a huff and stared into the semidarkness of the doorway. It was stupid to think like this, and utterly unproductive to boot. That was what annoyed her even more than the way she felt. Walter appeared while she was still gazing at the open door. Her advisor and confidant took in her expression, forehead crinkling, but made no comment. He walked in and flicked on the lights in a series of efficient, quick movements.
Stopping before Integra, he asked, "Tea?"
The way he carefully, shortly addressed Integra said that he assumed she did not want conversation: she knew him well enough to appreciate that. Usually Walter wouldn't speak in one-word sentences.
She contemplated the question, toying with the dense cross at her neck. Ordinarily she didn't need to think about it, and he didn't need to ask- he just brought her a steaming mug of tea in the evenings when she was here. She supposed that she was radiating her mood, which didn't surprise her.
Integra said, "No. Actually, I'll have some coffee. With cream, if you don't mind." While it was halfway out of her mouth she grimaced apologetically. The choice seemed like some sort of sacrilege- but nothing could ruffle impeccable Walter. Nodding, he strode off, hard black shoes clicking crisply. For some unfathomable reason, she wanted coffee. No, she didn't want coffee- but it seemed to serve her humor better than Earl Grey or Darjeeling. Rolling her eyes, she lit a cigar, breathing in the thick gray smoke thoughtfully.
What was it that had her on edge? She couldn't honestly say at all.
If I could, the problem would be solved, she mused.
"Master's brooding." The low voice snaked through the room with a smooth intensity, coming from a corner. Alucard materialized, languorously stretching. How long had he been there?
Integra glanced towards the smug Hellsing trump card- her own personal conundrum. "Go away and train your police girl, Alucard."
"You know she can't take too much in during one night," he said. "Besides, I can't leave you to drown in self-criticism."
"Didn't I just give you an order?"
"Too halfhearted," Alucard chuckled. She recognized the truth in that.
"Fine. What makes you think I'm going to be criticizing myself?"
Alucard leaned against a wall, quirking an eyebrow. "You asked for coffee."
Dressed in all black, without his customary crimson coat and hat, he still stood out. The snaky mane of hair blended with the shadows cast by the lights; his pants and shirt seemed to melt together. Integra reconciled herself to the fact that he looked good and steeled her resolve. Especially on an evening like this, he could tempt her beyond reckoning. She had no qualms about her self-control under ordinary circumstances, but there could be a first time for everything. Especially if I'm feeling sorry for myself, she thought.
"You divine my moods based on my choice of drink?"
"On special occasions."
"This is far from a special night."
"I could change that."
He fluidly moved to stand behind her. She allowed him to place his elbows on the chair, just above both of her shoulders. Integra craned her neck to better see his face. He was smiling broadly, but it wasn't his wide, eerie 'You're going to die now,' smile. It was something different, seductive without being invasive.
She narrowed her eyes. "Be careful I don't really order you away."
Empty threat, her inner dialogue sighed.
"I've struck a nerve, Master." His fingers brushed her hair extraordinarily lightly.
"Do you have any concept of personal space?" she asked resignedly.
"Only occasionally. Now- the coffee signifies a bad night for Integra? You're ruining a cultural stereotype."
"Tea is relaxing. I don't feel like being relaxed," she said shortly.
"You don't?" he prodded, the taste of a tease in his voice. "Because I can be very, very relaxing if the occasion calls for it."
He leaned down so that his lips were barely an inch from her ear. Alucard obviously didn't have to breathe, but Integra could feel the words as she heard them. Her first instinct was to squirm away before he could do anything more. The second was to let him actually do something. But she remained where she was, as impassive as a stone.
She cut in calmly, "I don't. If you had read my thoughts, which I'm sure you did, you would have known that."
This ice queen act was nothing against Alucard- he would know all of her reactions even as she concealed them. Right now, for instance, her heart was thudding and she was probably blushing. But at least her voice was steady.
Relenting, he stood up straight. "How well you know me, Master." He had always enjoyed toying with her.
Flicking away some ash, Integra muttered, "As though I have time to relax."
In any capacity, she added to herself. And I doubt that what he has in mind would constitute relaxation.
Alucard laughed outright. "Don't tell me you wouldn't-"
She snapped, "Honestly, Alucard." He paused.
"Never mind- you're right, as usual… maybe you couldn't handle your first time being with a vampire."
"Please," she snarled. "You I can handle blindfolded." Immediately, when she realized what she had said, she wished she could unsay it. She flushed and rolled her eyes.
Breaking some class of tension between master and monster, Walter returned, bearing a huge mug of coffee, a small pitcher of cream, and a sugar bowl with a small silver spoon on a tray. He sat it all down before Integra, and if he was surprised that she was tolerating Alucard in the room, he concealed it well.
"Thank you, Walter," Integra said. He smiled, looking surreptitiously pleased with himself like always, and nodded. She put out her cigar.
"Not at all, Sir Integra," Walter replied.
Walter and Alucard exchanged one swift and pregnant look as he left and shut the door behind him. Integra wasn't sure that she liked what it meant, whatever it meant. So she didn't have to say anything, she quickly added the cream and sugar to her mug, stirring the mixture perhaps more violently than was warranted.
Alucard cleared his throat, pinpointing what he knew was a common doubt of hers. "You know no one ever thinks that you're weak- not even the men you have an equal status with. Not by now. You're a woman. You're young. So what?"
"I know all of that. At least, conceptually I do," she said quietly, contemplating her coffee before she took a vigorous swig. "But can I do this as well as it should be done?"
Even as the question came out of her mouth she didn't quite understand it, herself. Integra could have kicked herself for sounding so idiotic- feeble, like an impulsive… woman. Alucard smothered a chuckle. She twisted to glare at him like an irate cat.
"You don't always have to be perfect. Especially not in your own mind- maybe it's to your advantage to appear flawless, but it amazes me that even in your thoughts you force yourself to be."
"But do you understand what I mean?"
"That the fight you fight is unending? That you're angry at yourself for not being able to rectify things which, as we all know, are largely impossible to fix?"
For an undead, he could be perceptive. His words largely articulated what she thought she meant under all her mindless emotion. Integra was still staring ahead over the brim of her mug, because she could not stand to see his empathy. Alucard sounded to be serious and not poking fun at her, using his customary bluntness to give advice. It fit on some level- he had seen her become an adult in her own right.
"Our fight," Integra amended.
She almost felt Alucard's wide grin- it had been prompted by her instinctive claim on him. The dratted vampire was completely invading her mind, but she was too used to his automatic responses, which came almost as quickly as her thoughts did, to stop him.
Naturally, I can't keep him out when I'm thinking of more interesting things. Really, it makes no difference. At all. So she sometimes had fantasies about shagging her vampire. She did not act on them. He probably knew all about them anyway, so why did she bother? He never says anything or tries to get me in bed. Or would it be in coffin…and that is quite enough of that.
Alucard gave her a smoldering, dark smile that made her stomach drop."Maybe it is our fight, but your world is not my world." He had voiced that before. She heard no hinting in his voice, but he left unsaid what seemed to run along the lines of, 'Your world is not my world unless you ask me to be part of it.'
"Alucard…" she began warningly. As usual, he disregarded her when he knew it wouldn't matter.
"It's a noble mindset to have. But it's stupid. Don't let your drive get the better of you," he cautioned, more analytical than emotive. "You've already committed so much of yourself to this that it would be ridiculous to expect more."
Integra took a breath and mulled that over. Darkly, she murmured, "Sometimes I wonder what it would have been to give up."
She didn't mean it to be a remark that would garner pity; the last thing she wanted was anyone's pity. But she wanted to say it to someone and who better than Alucard, who would merely laugh at her?
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Slowly, Integra pondered, "If Uncle had killed me. That's what I mean: if I had died. If I had been alone in that dungeon and just gotten shot, would things be better, or worse? I wanted a protector to be there, but if there hadn't been one, things could be very different."
She knew with complete certainty that she would have fought to the death to live, but morbidly, the idea still lurked within her. She never had given up in her life. For Integra, it was a moot point, not worth dwelling on- just a confession. Richard had been greedy, unpredictable, and didn't have the discipline to head Hellsing- but however irrational the question was, she still asked it when she felt morose. That night lived vividly in her memories: the night she had been tossed into something it would take her years to grasp.
"I was nothing special then," she concluded simply. "I'm nothing extraordinary now. And I don't tell you that to prompt your reassurance against it. I could be a sow for all anyone cares." Her face dared him to disagree; it forbade him to be coddling, though she didn't believe he was capable of it in her heart of hearts.
Alucard had fallen silent, adding in neither insight nor sarcasm. She had been expecting at least the sarcasm. Abruptly he knelt so that their faces were at the same level. Integra blinked but did not flinch. His eyes were alight with a mix of anger and dismay, and she felt an infinitesimal hint of fear before she reminded herself that he was ultimately at her disposal. It was unnerving to have Alucard looking at her like that, though.
"Never say any of those things again," he breathed, "though you may not mean them." She met his sudden anger with a shield of her own cool indifference, not allowing herself to react in any other way. The two remained locked on each other's faces. No doubt Alucard could feel her twinges of fear, but it didn't faze her. She was the master here.
"You're overstepping your boundaries, servant," Integra remarked at last, her voice as cold as an unused, newly sharpened steel blade.
He shook his head emphatically, a sheet of inky hair shielding his face. "I don't let anyone slight you." Integra almost wanted to test his limits on that; he was deadly serious. If he knew half of what she thought of herself in her worse moods, he would have killed her already.
"No," he said. "Master, you're going to listen to me for a change. Try not to let it be too hard for you." She gauged his sincerity and decided that listening might be worth it. Waving a hand at him to go on, she sipped more of her vile brew.
"I won't pretend to understand why you feel incompetent at any point," Alucard informed her bluntly, still crouching.
"I look at you and I see strength. I respect you for that, so I willingly follow you because I know you can do what your father left for you. Richard, the bastard, wouldn't have had it in him." He grinned wolfishly and it made Integra shudder. "I would not have tolerated it."
But what about the bindings? She wondered blankly. No matter what Alucard wanted he still had to contend with them.
The vampire's face was thoughtful. "They're old. They're strong; they can hold me like they always have. But- if I worked enough, I couldn't see them holding me forever- however long 'forever' will be for me. Especially in the face of someone like him." Integra bit her lip, not knowing what to make of that extraordinary declaration, given so offhandedly. There were the limited releases he could use when necessary, she knew, but could the others be skirted?
"Do you think I would still be under the Hellsing thrall if I didn't want to be?"
She decided that she could let the answer to that question remain a mystery- never mind the irony of his referring to the Hellsing family's power over him as a "thrall." Integra wouldn't put it past him. If he couldn't evade the bindings entirely, he'd probably find some way to make life very difficult for a master he truly hated, and he'd probably laugh about it. A sudden image of a sacked Hellsing estate, with Alucard maniacally running around outside on the lawns under the moonlight, guns in hand, flitted through her mind. Shaking her head slowly, she smiled.
"Your idiot uncle would never have been my master for long." Alucard was indifferent, as though it didn't matter to him.
"How can you know?"
He shrugged a shoulder lazily. "Can't I have some secrets?"
She put the coffee down on the tray in mute acquiescence. As if you really have them, she thought. "Are you saying you follow me because you have to or because you want to, then? I'm a bit confused, which doesn't often happen," she said wryly. He sighed and rose to his feet. Integra scrutinized his face. Now she had to look up at him- it was a good tactic to make her pay attention.
Crossing his arms behind him, Alucard stood before the desk. "Even at first, it wasn't because I had to. You intrigued me," he said blandly.
"Do I want to try to evade your control?" he asked rhetorically. "No."
"How ironic."
Alucard's returned smirk was lopsided. "You see, I always did respect power of will. And since it came from such a little girl, it made it more interesting." She rested her chin on both of her hands and peered at him over her glasses. If this was Alucard's way of trying to cheer her up, she'd rather go down to the practice range and shoot something. Preferably him.
"I'm not saying that to make you feel better," he insisted. "You have plenty of will and intelligence to back it. I have no trouble filling the roll of your bitch, but that doesn't give you leeway to belittle yourself around me. Don't ever think I'll agree with you. You're being silly." Pushing the tray aside, he sat on the desktop.
"Are you finished?" Integra said, tossing her long, light hair behind her. She hadn't been called silly in a long time, and she couldn't decide how she felt about it. Alucard watched her complacently as she scooted back in her chair so she could be further away from him.
"Actually, yes," Alucard said, prominent fangs showing from just behind his lip. "Sometimes you only need to be put in your place."
"And naturally you're the one to do it, being my menacing, renegade… pet?"