Disclaimer: Hirano owns Hellsing, I don't. His. Not mine.

Rated

One to ten. One being the worst, ten being the best.

A few hours ago, Rip van Winkle had been a one in the eyes of Jan Valentine. Nothing more than a flat-chested, stringbean. Not to mention she looked masculine. That was a turn off if he ever saw one. Girls weren't supposed to look like boys naturally. It wasn't right. Girls are supposed to look... girly. Long lashes and big eyes. Pinked and full lips. Curves and a bust size that is anything over a 32B.

Rip had none of the qualities real women had. Rip looked boyish. In fact, when Jan had first laid eyes on her, he thought she was a he. Talk about judging a book by its cover. Since, he insisted she was a male jocularly. More often than not just because it got under the Huntress' skin. It riled her up when the masculine comments were thrown her way. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Jan actually thought her little fits were kind of cute. Kind of. Not nearly cute enough to really be attractive though.

Now, had the rating game been based on more than just looks, Jan would have given Rip, at the highest, a seven. The Huntress was usually lost in some fantasy or another. She could slip in and out of reality any time she wanted, usually just by singing. And it was no secret she was completely drawn into another world, one all her own, when she listened to opera. Then there was her role-playing. No one could deny she was a natural born actress, not with the way she slipped into the role of being the Huntress so easily. Not just anyone could do that. And enjoy it, to have a mind such as hers, so carefree and imaginative, in times of war amazed even Jan.

There was no doubt, if the rating game was set for the mind and not the body, Rip would've been pretty attractive. But it wasn't based on the mind. It was based on body and body alone. And so, Rip was stuck with that lowly, little one.

That was hours ago, though. Before Jan had thrown one insult too many and touched her chest to 'prove his point'. She had turned a rich shade of pink. He had been almost pleasantly surprised to find she had at least a handful of breast under that suit she wore. Jan hadn't stopped there. To test her limits, he let his hand wander over the mound of flesh, and then over to the other. That was enough for her, and Rip slapped his hand away, holding her chest protectively, glaring at her 'attacker'.

He assured her he wouldn't do it again, that it wasn't worth it. Her glare turned into a scowl, obviously offended. She was a girl after all, and somewhere inside she did have that natural need to feel somewhat attractive. Even if it was hidden very well more often than not. Jan had then teased her, saying she acted as though no one had ever touched her like that before. When she didn't respond, confirming his statement, Jan erupted into a fit of laughter. And when the laughing was done and over with, he grinned and asked if she wanted him to do it again. That was when she had turned on her heel, muttering things in German that probably made Hitler turn over in his grave.

Well, Jan wouldn't have any of that. He grabbed her arm, turning her around and quickly pinning her against the wall. Teasing her was too much fun; he couldn't just let her walk away like that. Especially not when she was flushed with anger and growled at him with pure hate. It was oddly intriguing. It made him have to push the limits and cross the lines, needing to see just how far he could take this little game.

He pushed his lips to hers. That didn't sit well with Rip, and she immediately started to thrash and squirm away. That didn't stop Jan from kissing her again, and even groping her backside. She fought back yet again, though he was sure he had heard her groan softly. It was always more fun when they played along, and yet resisted, really it was. All in all, his new game was taking some interesting turns, becoming more and more exciting. Literally. The whole situation was suddenly making the right places react in the wrong way.

This was Rip for crying out loud! She wasn't supposed to turn him on like this. He was the one antagonizing her, the tables weren't supposed to turn around like that. But even if it was unfair, Jan wasn't complaining at the moment...

Push came to shove and that shoved landed them in bed. It was like one of those scenes in movies. The scene where the guy gets a random girl for the night, and they wind up having a passionless fuck-fest. You know, the kind of sex you'll remember forever and deeply regret. But oh, it was so worth it. The regret and vivid memories would be worth the time their bodies meshed together and their moans were the only sounds that existed.

And it was now, in the afterglow, Jan decided to change his mind about the Huntress. Her eyes were glazed over and her body was flushed. Had she been alive, he knew her chest would have been heaving. Her chest wasn't heaving, but her breasts were still a pleasant sight to look at. Her nipples were hard and engorged. The same could have been said about her lower regions, her lips were swollen and even her nub was still begging for more attention. Her body in general was a sprawled out display of bliss, legs still spread wide and hands clutching onto the sheets, mouth still open in the typical 'o' of pleasure as she came down from her first high. Her hair fell around her like a tangled black web, spread out under her beautifully.

He wouldn't tell anyone what he thought to himself as she lay like that. And he promised himself a bullet to the head if he ever thought this again. But right now, Rip van Winkle was definitely a ten.

-End