"I don't have a bloody clue how many vampires can be estimated in London right now!" Integra yelled into the phone speaker. "They multiply by bite, you dolt! We can't just ask them to fill out a bloody form every time one of them gets hungry!"

Alucard sat in a chair facing her desk. His hat was pulled down over his face, and he was napping. The sun was shining into the room; it was quite late for a vampire to be up. Still, it was his duty.

"104," he said from under his hat, he sounded bored. "At my last estimate, anyway."

Integra shot him a glare. "We think there are approximately 100 roaming around," she said into the phone, and then she put her hand over the receiver. "Alucard!" she snapped. "Why are you counting them and not killing them?"

He didn't answer, but let his hat slip lower down his face. She threw a paperweight at his head. He caught it before it made contact.

"Yes- yes," she said hastily. "I'm still here."

Alucard sighed to himself. They were supposed to be going to have a meeting with the Order with Protestant Knights today, but so far Integra hadn't been able to get off the phone with the new Prime Minister. Needless to say he was in a little bit of shock.

"No," she said into the phone. "It is not something that the general public needs to be aware of. It would only heighten tensions and force crime rates to a peak."

Alucard looked at the paper weight. It was made of glass, and it was flawless. He let his thumb slide over the smooth surface. It was cool and smooth.

He smiled to himself and pocketed the thing. It was his now.

"Oh, I'm a crackpot?" she asked stiffly as she stuffed papers into her briefcase to take to the meeting. "I wasn't the one who volunteered for the position, Minister. If anyone is loon it's you."

Alucard snorted. He knew she didn't mean it for a second. She loved her job, all of it; the stress, the tension, the survival, the struggle. Integra's kind was a dying breed, he knew, and he was glad to be at the very least associated with a Master he could be proud of. She might very well be the last of her kind.

What a pity? What would he do with his free time after she was gone?

He was certain he feared her demise much more than she did. Much more. He put his hand into his pocket and cradled the paperweight in his hand.

It felt good.

"Thank you," she said to the man on the other line, she was clearly exasperated. "Have a wonderful term, may we never speak again."

And she hung up.

She snatched her briefcase off the desk and started towards the door. "Come Alucard," she said brusquely. "We're going to be late."

"Oh, it's alright," he told her as he stood and followed her out. "It's the fashionable thing to do, after all. Maybe it will force themselves to pull their heads out of their asses long enough to listen to reason."

She snorted. It really wasn't likely.

Alucard just followed her, as was his custom. Stupid mortals, he thought to himself. They don't understand anything. Not one of them.

Then his eyes darted quickly to Integra, but it was too fast too tell.