Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything.
Without fail, the invitation would come, Sir Integra knew as she tried to hurry to her car. The late November winds tossed her long blonde hair gently into her face and she brushed it away. She was aware of her rudeness, but the date December 17th was a very touchy subject with her.
"Sir Integra! Where are you going in such a hurry?" Sir Harris laughed. She paused and forced a smile. He looked smugly at her, "Every year since that first Christmas party, you've refused to attend again. Don't tell me you're trying to get out of it yet again."
She had been caught.
"I apologize, but the party scene isn't exactly my cup of tea."
"You dance very well," he complimented her in a persuading manner. She shook her head.
"No, I do not. I have two left feet, but fortunately was with several good partners that night," he didn't believe her, she could tell. But it really wasn't of her doing how well she had danced.
"Is it because of-"
"Excuse me, Sir Harris, but I must be going," she interrupted and left for her car without so much as a glance back at him. If she wasn't careful, she'd be less popular than Sir Irons before long, she thought comically, trying to distract herself from what Sir Harris had tried to say.
Because it was just a Convention of Twelve rumor, that was all. There was no truth behind it. If these gatherings didn't bore or annoy her to death, she'd go just to prove them wrong. And really, they should know her better.
She had enough on her plate to distract her the rest of the afternoon, excluding the fact that there was a slippery midian she needed to send Alucard after. She could practically feel his eyes on her as night fell, waiting for her to summon him, but she procrastinated. She had no desire to talk to him for another month.
The clock struck ten and the door opened.
"Don't you want me for something?" Alucard asked. Apparently he was done with being patient with her.
"Actually yes. There's an out-of-control vampire lurking around somewhere; we've lost our position on him," she didn't look up.
He was quiet for a long time, staring at her. She continued with her work as though he wasn't there. Was he searching her mind?
"How was your meeting?" He demanded. Sir Integra smirked.
"Uneventful. There's more talk of budget cuts, especially for us," he sighed.
"Anything of interest?" He hinted. She shook her head.
"No."
"Let me rephrase; anything of interest to me?"
"No."
"You can't lie to me, Master. Your heart rate just went through the roof," she sighed.
"They invited me again and I turned them down," Alucard frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I don't like talking to boring people who hate me and I certainly don't like men pouring over me trying to get my affection," Alucard shook his head in wonder.
"I never thought I'd see the day where an attractive, single young woman would refuse to go to a ball for fear of being flirted with."
"Welcome to the 21st century, Count," she muttered dryly, "If you're so intent on going, take Seras and go with her in my place," Alucard snorted.
"Police girl? Hardly. Besides, the invitation was addressed to you. It would be rude," Now he decided to be civilized.
Sir Integra looked Alucard in the eyes.
"I'm. Not. Going. Understood?" She pronounced every syllable. Alucard turned and walked through the door.
Every year was the same. Alucard would try to persuade her to go the minute the invitation came in the mail or a Convention of Twelve meeting was held near that time. She would refuse. He would bug her. She'd threaten to blow his head off. He'd sulk. She'd win. Why this was such a big deal to him she had no idea. Was it just reminiscing of a different life, where he was a tyrant and enslavement was nothing but a foreign concept?
A week passed, then two. Alucard was giving up more easily than he usually did, Integra thought happily. He had accepted the idea. She sipped at her tea as she looked outside her bedroom window. There was a tentative knock at the door.
"Sir Integra?" It asked.
"Come in, Seras," she greeted. She was surprised to hear the door open. Why did she even bother? Hadn't she learned by now how to phase through objects?
"Someone must have confused our clothes or something. This isn't my dress size at all. Are these things yours?" Integra turned...
...her cup crashed to the ground as her mouth fell open. Of all the nerve!
Integra took the dress, the gloves, and the shoes from Seras. She had stuffed these away in the attic! How dare he!
"I can't believe him..." She hissed, storming towards her closet.
"What? Who?" Seras asked, completely baffled by Sir Integra's reaction. Integra glanced at her, and relaxed.
"It's just Alucard," she muttered, stuffing the things into the corner of the closet. Seras's confused expression vanished.
"Oh," she giggled. Integra smirked. She supposed it would be funny, if seen as a joke instead of a cowardly reminder. Seras glanced down at a photograph in her hand, "This picture was with it, too. You look very pretty," she complimented as she showed it to Integra.
Integra frowned. It was her all right, her mouth wide open and her head thrown back. She didn't remember it, though.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you full-out laugh," Seras said quietly.
"I was intoxicated," Integra breathed. Seras glanced down in embarrassment.
"Oh," she tried to hand the picture back to Sir Integra. Integra shook her head.
"I don't want it," Her tone was harsh. Seras drew her arm back.
"Mind if I keep it?" She asked timidly.
"Just don't flaunt it, and don't let Alucard see it," Integra said. Seras nodded and then left.
Sir Integra sank onto her bed. Her eyes trailed to the heap in the corner of the closet, taking her back to that December 17th so long ago, when she was seventeen and as naive as a girl could be. Back when she believed in true love. Back when she believed in a whole lot more things.
&
"A ball?" Integra asked aloud, reading the invitation. Alucard, who had fetched the mail like a good little vampire servant, perked. Integra turned to him, "I didn't even know they had these things anymore," she admitted.
"They're just not as common as they used to be," Alucard said wistfully, suddenly leaning over her shoulder. He let out a low whistle, "Sounds like all of London's high society will be there."
"Sounds like a drag," Integra decided, throwing the invitation away. Alucard stared at her in disbelief, "I have better things to do than to waste my time with boring people and watching them dance."
Alucard laughed.
"Times have changed. Not too long ago, that was all girls could think about."
"Welcome to the 21st century, Count," she muttered.
"Don't try to tell me you have no desire to wear a lovely dress, spend a whole day making yourself perfect, go dancing and have young men faun over you," he challenged. Actually, the last thing sounded good, but she doubted there would be many boys her age attending a ball of all things. At least, any decent boys.
Alucard leaned down and plucked the invitation out of the trash.
"And why does this matter so much to you?" She asked.
"Because, whether they admit it or not, every little girl dreams of being a princess and going to the ball to meet Prince Charming. I don't know about that last one, but the other two are fairly easy fantasies to fulfill," he set the invitation in front of her, "You never know until you try."
He left her, then. Integra looked down at the invitation. She hated how he knew her better than she knew herself.
Integra soon had talked Walter into taking her dress shopping, where she found not only a gorgeous dress, but accessories as well. Walter smiled as he watched her play dress-up, posing in front of the mirror and occasionally asking his opinion. She had grown up far too fast in too short a time, and Alucard had been wise to prod her into going to the ball. She was acting like a girl her age should for once.
Integra felt prepared. That is, except for a date. She reached for the phone, instinctively drawing up Randy's phone number in her mind. Oh, wait. She dropped the phone. Her friend had been bitten a month ago by a vampire who was seeking revenge against Integra and had proceeded to turn the rest of their friend group into vampires or ghouls. Then who was she to call? Running a vampire hunting organization didn't leave room for much socializing. She winced. The other members of the Convention would only be too happy to suggest their grandsons or nephews, and from her experience they were the most stuck up snobs on the face of the earth.
She sighed. It was starting to sound like she was going alone. On cue, Alucard appeared in front of her desk.
"The only thing less tacky than going to a ball alone is wearing sweatpants," he stated. Integra waited a minute for her heart to go back to normal.
"Then what did single girls who couldn't find a date do?" She asked.
"They at least went with an escort," he insisted. Integra looked him up and down, "What?" She sighed.
"You'll do."
The night of December 17th was clear yet cold. Cold enough to snow, Integra thought as she swept her hair up in a tight bun. She barely even had to ask Alucard to escourt her, such a shock because if it didn't involve killing she usually had to plead with him a little. She smoothed the wrinkles out and gave herself one last glance-over in the mirror.
Her sleeveless dress was a deep cobalt color, clinging to her torso but fanned out into a loose skirt once it passed her hips. She had white gloves that went up to her elbows and a silver rose on a silver chain around her neck. A pair of silver dangle earrings accented her necklace. She didn't bother with makeup, she already felt like she was overdoing it, and chose a pair of black low-rise heels to minimize the chances of her snapping her own ankles.
Walter came into her bedroom and paused.
"You look lovely, Miss Integra," he gushed. She blushed self-consciously.
"Thank you, Walter."
"Alucard is ready when you are," he informed her.
She clutched the staircase, feeling a little nervous. Alucard looked up at her expectantly, looking more human than she could ever imagine he could. He was wearing a black suit, his red tie snugly fit to his neck instead of it being its usual looseness. His hair was combed, but thankfully not slicked back like an impersonator. He had even switched out his gloves for some clean white ones devoid of his usual pentagrams. The only sign that he was something other than human were his smoldering ruby eyes, looking out from under the bangs in his eyes. She stood there a minute, hesitant to approach him. He wasn't Alucard; it was a stranger waiting for her.
She made her way down the staircase, her hand gliding down the railing. She tripped over the hem of her dress and saved herself with the railing. Alucard's arms were slightly outstretched in a gesture to catch her if she had fallen.
He smiled his crooked smile and Integra grinned in relief. There he was.
He closed the gap between them and took Integra's hand in his. Without breaking eye contact, he gently kissed it. She turned away, blushing. Alucard chuckled.
She was furious by the time they got to the ballroom. Half furious with herself, half with Alucard. He was just so perfect! He was behaving like a gentleman, holding the door open for her and helping her out and such. It was so unlike him; she couldn't even imagine how two such diverse personalities could coexist within the same person! And she was furious at her heart, pounding there inside her chest, her hormones clouding her judgement. It was so much easier to dislike him when he wasn't being so attractive (which was disgusting that she even thought that).
It was a mixed reception. Half of them looked grateful that she had come/found a date. The other, more knowledgeable ones were wary or horrified as they caught a glance at Alucard's eyes.
"Are you really that desperate? To bring a, a vampire?" Sir Irons asked quietly the minute Alucard left her side for some reason.
"What? Are you afraid he'll bite?" Integra teased. Sir Irons didn't seem to see the humor, "He's just an escort, and he's on oddly good behavior tonight," Integra watched as he politely chatted with Sir Harris. Generally, he ignored anyone he didn't want to talk to.
"There were plenty of other options besides him," Sir Irons said in disgust. He glanced over at the dance floor, "For instance, my nephew," She'd choose a thousand vengeful vampires over Sir Irons' perverted nephew. From what little she had talked to him during events such as these, she didn't even want to be in the same room as him.
Sir Irons left and Integra sighed. This was hopeless. Why did she bring Alucard? They were only going to push him too far and he'd blow up and people would end up dead, a lot if they didn't want witnesses. It's not like he was going to be accepted.
It wasn't like they were going to accept her, or like she would actually have a good time. She tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling.
As she watched, the ceiling began to change. She squinted. It had transformed into an oil painting of figures among the clouds, looking quite god-like with their flowing robes and divine glow. A few even had feathered wings on their backs. There was a pair of shaggy chestnut bears, their claws clasped together. She blinked, but the image didn't leave. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
She glanced around the room. So plain and ordinary before, it was transforming into a grand golden room with tall columns and glass walls. But the images flickered together, like switching between two different shows. She closed her eyes and shook her head again.
When she opened them, Alucard was standing before her, smiling.
"Are you the cause of this?" She asked.
"You said you wanted to have a good time," he said defensively. She glanced away from him and the flickering reappeared, this time also changing the people. Their hideous suits and dresses transformed into outfits little girls dreamed of.
Suddenly, the flickers stopped.
"I'm sorry, Master. I shouldn't be pushing my illusions on you," Alucard murmured.
"I don't like your mind tricks," she stated. But that one hadn't been so bad.
"I'm only trying to be good for once," he pouted. The flicker to the golden room was becoming stronger, the time in the delusion lasting longer.
"Why isn't it going away?" She asked, her tone an octave higher than usual.
"It was only there if you wanted it. It seems you'd much rather believe in fantasy than reality," he mused.
She did. And with that realization, the reality flicker vanished. All she could see was the round room with the glass walls and golden columns. Everyone was dressed in the imagined Renessiance attire that were more fitted for movies than the actual period. And everyone had an air of elegance and grace, even if they weren't. Alucard and Integra were the only ones left unchanged by the illusion.
He extended his hand. Wordlessly, she took it and he escorted her away from the still outskirts into the midst of the dancers.
She gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He rested his on her side, right above her hip.
"I don't know how to dance," she confessed.
"I'll lead," he said, a wry expression on his face, "Just copy me," she glanced at their feet, trying to memorize the pattern, "Don't look down," Alucard stated, "That's what amateurs do."
"I am an amateur," she insisted.
It had started to snow, Integra noticed as she glanced outside. A gust of wind blew the snowflakes sideways instead of down. As she watched, the snowflakes arranged themselves into the shape of a herd of galloping horses. Her and Alucard smiled.
Her eyes met his. A wave of ecstacy like she had never known overtook her. Every part of her felt alive and tingling. She had never thought anyone could be so blissfully happy. She was just aware of the confused expression that had crossed his face briefly.
From that moment on, she felt as though Alucard had total, complete control over her. And she liked it. She liked how easily he moved them across the floor, liked how joyful he looked. Liked how his lit-up eyes danced, liked how he seemed on the verge of bursting out into a whole-hearted laugh. Liked how dependable he was, and how she didn't seem to have any responsibility tonight.
He began to hum. He had a wonderful voice, low and smooth.
"What are you singing?" She asked him. He stopped.
"It's an old Transylvanian lullaby."
"It's lovely," she remarked.
"The English is somewhat different. You've probably heard it; the composer claims he came up with it," Alucard smirked. Integra smiled.
The ecstacy flowed through her veins, nearly overwhelming her. She was so, so happy. She never wanted to leave him; just wanted him to guide her steps across the floor for eternity. He made her so happy, so blissfully happy. Intoxicated.
&
That was the last thing Integra remembered of that night. Being in Alucard's arms, him humming that familiar lullaby, her being so disgustedly dependant on him. Integra didn't realize how she was clutching at her chest until she was trying to clean up the dropped cup. She shook her head at her stupidity and then picked up the shattered shards of china. How fragile the cup was, to break just at that drop.
She jumped as Alucard handed her a wash cloth. She snatched it from him.
"I don't understand your anger," he admitted. Integra put more vigor than necessary into scrubbing the tea out of the carpet.
"You wouldn't," she muttered. She finished getting out as much as she could and threw down the cloth, glaring at him, "You could've done anything to me that night! I was puddy in your hands! I was so...vulnerable!" She yelled. He stared back at her.
"But I didn't," he replied.
Childishly, she grabbed the cloth and threw it at him. He let it smack him in the face, only making Integra more angry. He could've caught it!
She stood up and stormed out of her own bedroom, back to her office. There, laid on top of everything on her desk, was an invitation. She could tell by the expensive creme envelope. She grabbed it and tore it to shreds, dropping the shreds into the garbage.
Now, quietly to herself she admitted the real reason for her anger, for her stubborn refusal to go to the Christmas party. Something she had found out a couple years after the actual night. Alucard hadn't given her that ecstacy; he looked shocked. The ecstacy had only been intensified by the illusion. No, the real reason why she didn't want to go to the ball was because she couldn't imagine going with anyone else.
Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings, once upon a December
End