PROLOGUE- EXODUS

"Honestly Arthur…" Irons released an exasperated sigh, mindful of his footsteps that were carefully placed over the least littered path leading to the oak desk. "…would it kill you to tidy up this place once in a while?" He pushed at the bridge of the spectacles upon his face, examining the floor covered in books, empty bottles and assorted trash.

"I believe that's Walter's job, not mine." A grin found its way to the devil-haired gentlemen's face. He threaded his fingers together over the desk.

Irons snorted through his nose. "It would be cleaned if you hadn't told him to leave it as is…you're completely hopeless." Moments later Iron's was in front Arthur's desk, gripping a corner with one hand to keep his balance, having almost tripped over a rolling wine bottle. Paper crinkled under his other hand as he loosened the grip he held on a stack of documents. He placed the stack neatly in front of Arthur who took it, skimming its contents.

"So…anything of interest?" asked Arthur, puffing at the slim cigar between his lips.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Though I don't believe it would be best to let 'him' know." Looking over one shoulder, Irons sighed. "If I remember correctly Romania was his place of origin, correct?"

Ears perked at a bit of information that stood out from the rest. "You mean Alucard? Yes, but at the time it was Wallachia…I always have trouble pronouncing that one right." Arthur rested his cheek on one palm, flipping through the files without much interest. "Wait…what about Romania?" Blue eyes leveled with Irons own imploringly.

He sighed. "Really…you're no better than a child sometimes." Irons shook his head, and then pointed towards the documents. "Page 5 I believe…"

Arthur thumbed through the pile, placing page 5 at the front of the stack. He read over the text with interest. "I see…"

"So…what will you do?"

Arthur released a long sigh and his hold on the documents so that he could recline in his chair. "I think it's obvious what has to be done."

"You sound reluctant."

"…As long as Walter accompanies him, there shouldn't be any problems."

"Well, the little Angel does provide me with some good company," purred a baritone voice in both men's ears.

Irons gasped once, observing his surroundings carefully.

Arthur was unmoved by the low, disembodied voice that echoed throughout this study, puffing at the cigar without much care.

Shadows within the room grew darker as the lights dimmed. Dark silhouettes collected and morphed together, solidifying on the front of Arthur Hellsing's desk. A small, feminine figure emerged, taking a cross-legged position at its edge. Deep garnet eyes were the first feature to materialize clearly, shining brightly before Hugh Irons' eyes.

Irons released a surprised gasp, jumping backwards onto an open book. His heel turned to the side, compromising his balance as he fell to the floor with an ungraceful thud.

"Humans are so very interesting," chuckled Alucard, terribly amused by the death glares received from the disgruntled man on the floor. Turning his nose upward, the vampire switched the order his legs were crossed and hummed girlishly in sing-song. "So, Old Man…" The prominent smirk on Alucard's cherubic face softened. "What is it you need Walter and I to do?"

Really now… Irons stood, an intense frown a permanent feature on his youthful face. He dusted off his blazer with a sigh, taking residence on the sofa at the other end of the room.

Clearing his throat, Arthur began. "Well, I haven't read all the details yet myself…"

In the blink of an eye Alucard appeared behind his spiky-haired master. Propping one elbow over the desk he batted his long eyelashes as if flirting. "Then I suppose reading over the files myself won't be a problem?" Alucard's voice rang with the sound of tinkling bells, a sort of childish but feminine tone.

Arthur placed a heavy hand over the stack of documents, hoping to guard them from the vampire. "When did I ever say anything like that would be a problem?" Arthur's seemingly forceful tone left a lot to be desired.

Alucard grinned. Dainty gloved fingers splayed widely over the hand Arthur used to protect the stack of papers. The Nosferatu closed the distance between their faces, noses meeting less than an inch or so apart. "Oh my Master..." The petite vampire purred. "Do you realize your position? I can change my form into anything I desire. I could transform into one of your little harlots, perhaps Madison or Elizabeth, if I so wish." Childlike fingers rubbed at the back of his Master's hand gently, running the gloved tips over the tiny valleys between the knuckles then to the peaks of bone. "My Master," he cooed in a sultry feminine voice.

The beginnings of a light flush grew over Arthur Hellsing's cheeks, his mind running through different sensual images of the aforementioned women. His dreamy gaze met with Iron's, who scoffed and shook his head like a disappointed parent. Snapping back to reality, Arthur bit the inside of his lower lip and stood abruptly. "Alucard, enough is enough. I'm the Master and what I say goes. You're not to-" What intensity Sir Hellsing had displayed while speaking suddenly whittled away into silence as he watched the vampire sit in his armchair comfortably reading over the documents.

Arthur slumped to the floor. "Dammit…" he whispered as a cloud of misery surrounded his form.

"….Prat," uttered Irons with another shake of the head.

Crimson eyes narrowed suddenly. Alucard's fist met with the desk, startling both Arthur and Irons. "The bastards…" he growled lowly, restraining the majority of his anger. Feminine featured shriveled away, thin pinkish lips curling into an animalistic sneer. "Where is Walter?" he asked a moment or two after, too irate to locate the young butler's presence.

"H-He should be doing the wash about now…" said Arthur, pointing towards the hall.

In a matter of seconds the shadows in the room wiggled and flickered and soon Alucard was gone.

Two floors down Walter could be found pouring his attention over a washing machine. He sorted the dirty clothing by color, starting with the whites first, packing them neatly into the tub. He then grabbed the hose and filled the tub with water. While reaching for the box of detergent, the young Hellsing butler had an uneasy feeling come over him, turning his stomach in many different directions.

The door to the washroom opened unexpectedly, revealing Alucard in a display of palpable rage. "Walter!" he exclaimed, making a beeline for the servant, grasping him by the necktie and dragging him out of the room. "Come," he added, closing the door to the washroom as the two headed for the upper floor.

Walter coughed and struggled, his silk necktie quickly slipping free from the vampire's grasp. "What in hell is wrong with you?" He snarled, lightly massaging his throat before smoothing over his attire.

A light snort of amusement came from Alucard, unnoticed by Walter. He crossed his arms with a smug grin, the anger momentarily quelled. It's hard to stay mad when around the little angel. He's so amusing when aggravated. "It seems we have a new buffoon to silence."

"Who now…?" He questioned, assuming what he could about a case given to Sir Hellsing. "It's usually just one per incident, correct? Since when is one rogue vampire a cause for commotion?" Cobalt eyes narrowed, watching the nosferatu carefully.

Alucard chuckled deeply. "Oh Angel…Master didn't tell you yet, did he?"

"Tell me what? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then come." The graceful vampire took hold of the black necktie again, however this time he gave the teen enough room to breathe. Pulling the youth towards him, Alucard peered up into the seemingly innocent pools of blue. But he knew better than to entirely believe the innocent rouse Walter exhibited. Those 14 year old azure eyes had seen more violence and horror than most war veterans. He knew the boy inside and out, and how much he savored fighting on the battlefield. "Come…" he purred with a Cheshire grin. "Vino cu mine în Românească." (Romanian: Come with me to Romania.)