A/N: Well, I'm taking the plunge and starting a new story, even though I'm still working on Repentance. I guess it's just how these things go.

This is set in the Mangaverse, spoilers up to the seventh volume. I suppose it's AU, because I completely ignored the Killing Field, and we're just pretending that everything just suddenly went back to normal. I know, I know, that's odd, but please, continue on anyway. This story, (Which will span several chapters) focuses on exploring Alucard and Integra's relationship, as well as looking into Seras/Pip and Dark Walter. Enjoy, and tell me if you liked it!

Edit: Format fix, and a missing sentence. Sorry!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, or I wouldn't be writing FanFiction.

It was that day again.

It came every year without fail, but Sir Integra Hellsing always managed to be caught by surprise. For her, time was narrowed down to the hours between each sunrise, broken by landmarks like Alucard's nightly visits, or Walter's morning tea. Meetings were scheduled by others, and she went to them. Hunts happened almost every night, and no grasp of the date was needed to arrange them. However, she was painfully reminded of each holiday by the Wild Geese and Seras' decorations… except for Halloween, which was marked by heavy FREAK activity. Yes, time did not run for the Director of Hellsing like it seemed to for the rest of the world.

The ignorant masses were more focused on the passing weeks, counting them, their precious days on this earth. However, Integra didn't notice them at all… this wasn't due to inattention, but more to a simple lack of interest. Lord Hellsing knew she was mortal, but it didn't really register with her mind. She smoked, she fought, she refused to sleep, and more dangerously, she kept vampires as pets. And harshly reprimanded them, often. One could even say she had a childish attitude towards her mortality. She couldn't possibly die. Integra held on to this, even though a rather agitated No-Life King did his best to remind her of her impending demise… often.

So, it was only on this one day each year that Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing realized just how fast time flies.

It really is rather funny, she'd always muse, that it isn't my birthday that puts me in such a mood. Frankly, the only person who consistently celebrated that was Walter, and Alucard occasionally contributed, if he decided to bother. Integra herself usually forgot. No, the day that made her remember her age was this one… and to be truthful, it was far more important than the day she came into the world to both the people it involved.

For today was their anniversary.

She leaned back in her chair as she ran over the numbers in her mind. Let's see now, 'ninety-nine was ten, then two-thousand… one… two… three… four… Fourteen years. She smiled, taking in the heavy cigar smoke that hung in the cool air. She was alone in her office, but she knew he'd be here soon. He pretended to forget, but this was important to Alucard too. She supposed Seras had complained about Pip forgetting theirs so often he'd decided to start as well. Personally, Integra couldn't imagine how Pip could possibly forget, seeing as he and Seras shared a body. Integra closed her tired eyes. It was hard to believe those two were going on three years in the same body. She still had trouble telling whether she was addressing the Captain or the vampire. Sir Hellsing sighed. If I can't by now, I suppose I never will.

The pale pink light of the dying sun had faded, giving way to the velvet darkness of the impending night. Papers were scattered on her desk, the haphazard arrangement revealing her state of mind. Normally, there were two, very separate neat piles on her work surface, one for papers that had been dealt with, and one for documents yet to be reviewed. Not tonight, on this same night, every year. Integra's computer sat lifeless, still warm from recent use. I didn't get a thing done, she admitted to herself with amusement. Her pale, golden mane hung softly over her shoulders, hastily swatted away from her face with a white-gloved hand. The butt of a cigar smoked in her well-worn ashtray, and Lord Hellsing snapped open the tin container that contained her vice and produced another. It was lit with a few more automatic motions, and Integra settled in for a good smoke while she waited for the Red Devil himself to appear. I can't keep bloody pretending that I can concentrate today.

Alucard chose to phase through the wall just then, ending her reverie. "Good evening, Master." His tattered red coat settled after his movement with a soft swish, suddenly the only noise in the huge room. Messy dark hair fell about his face in what still managed to pass for artful arrangement, and vermillion eyes fixed her with a neutral stare. Integra returned the impassive look, and gave the usual reply. "Good evening, Servant." With that she dropped her gaze to the tangle of reports and bills at her fingertips, and caught up a pen.

Heavy footfalls and the whisper of cloth told her he had moved to the window at her back, and he scuffed to a stop directly behind her chair. She decided to take no notice, and the scratch of her pen on the page continued unbroken. A companionable silence descended upon the cavernous office, punctuated by the noise of her work, and the small noises of movement Alucard made from his position at the window. It was a courtesy to her, one he rarely extended. If he so chose, he could be as silent as, well, the dead. The comforting rustlings of cloth kept her company, as she frowned at bills demanding money she didn't remember owing, and at reports that rambled about failed missions.

"It's a lovely night, Master." She paused in her inspection of a particularly outrageous fee, and twisted in her chair in order to see her servant. His back was to her, hands neatly clasped at the small of his back. He stood facing the lawn, washed white in the brilliant shower of the moonlight.

"Is that so?" Sir Hellsing returned to the paper, losing interest in this game. This sort of thing made her feel old, at the ancient age of 26. Almost thirty. I hardly expected to make it to 20, ten years ago.

"It would be a pity to waste it indoors, Master." She set down the pen, and stood, tucking her cigar tin in her breast pocket. God knows I'm going to need it. She slipped out from between the chair and the heavy wooden desk, turning to face Alucard. He spun as well, lips curling into a smile, with no hint of menace. Mischief would be closer.

"Well, I would hate to waste a night so beautiful in your opinion," Her tone was wry, as she continued with the charade, "since I understand that you are quite the connoisseur, when one is dealing with beautiful evenings." She strode to the door, taking a second to adjust her tiepin before opening it. He was behind her in an instant, and leaned around her to open the door, holding it wide. Lord Hellsing muttered a quiet thank you, forcing herself not to rush as his presence seemed to caress her back, even though they did not touch.

This was a very special night, and it was always Walter's personal duty to make sure that Master and Servant were not disturbed. He had never been ordered to do so, but he felt that it had to be done. Call it his gift to them, if it must be called anything. He'd given the staff the night off, much to their delight, and expressly forbidden the soldiers from setting foot in the house, unless there was some sort of outstanding crisis. So, content that he had done his part, the butler sat at the small table in the kitchen, reading a collection of poetry. A steaming cup of tea sat at his elbow, which he had fixed through simple force of habit. This was one of the things he missed in his afterlife, the comforting warmth of a cracking good brew. Oh, well. I suppose I gained far more than I lost. The book failed to hold his attention, however, and soon Walter found himself musing on the events of this night.

He didn't remember exactly when Sir Hellsing had stopped celebrating her birthday. It had been a gradual loss, until he had been the only one to even remember the date. No, it was this day that she found special, this day that made her review her life in a brown study. She never scheduled any appointments or undertook any ventures on this day, simply choosing to catch up on paperwork and wait for nightfall.

Alucard, too, seemed to brood on this day, generally shutting himself up in his room the night before. And always, it was him who came to her, and always, it was him who decided the night's event. Walter supposed this was a comforting routine, almost a ritual, for this night of memories. They had done this for the past fourteen years, without fail. He chuckled as he remembered Alucard's anger on having to suppress a vampire and his ghoul army, eight years ago tonight. It was unavoidable, however, and the ensuing bloodbath had been horrible to behold. He had slaughtered them in record time, rushing back to Integra's side still covered in gore, feigning indifference.

Integra always told Walter of her servant's attempts at unconcern, and where he chose for them to spend the evening, but never any more. He didn't know what they did, said, or didn't say at all. Personally, he liked to imagine that they simply stood in a pleasant silence. He had to admit, he was insanely curious, particularly because each seemed to hold this night very dear. Alucard never rushed, and Integra never set time aside for herself. That they did for this was enough to show the gravity of the occasion.

He directed his attention to the door, just as Seras slipped in it. "Oh, hello Walter!" She was her usual bright self, but her grin changed to confusion as she looked around the empty kitchen. "Where is everybody?"

Walter closed his book, thankful for distraction. "I gave them the night off."

She plopped into a chair across from him, propping her chin on her hands. "Oh? Why?"

"I wouldn't want them to disturb Sir Hellsing and Alucard by mistake."

"Oh, right. I completely forgot. It is that night, isn't it?"

"Quite. How is Mr. Bernadette?"

She blushed, and rushed her answer. "Oh, Pip? He's fine!"

"I'm glad." Walter smiled, amused at her reaction. Undoubtedly Mr. Bernadette had chosen to make a choice comment at that moment.

Seras, still rather red, hurriedly changed the topic. "So, what is it exactly Master and Miss Integra are doing?"

"Honestly, I haven't the foggiest. I like to think they're just enjoying each other's company."

The vampiress' eyes went blank, a sure sign that she was having a conversation with her French companion. Walter sighed, and picked up his book once more, attempting to absorb himself in it once more. This is always a slow night.