"Do you time yourself?"
Seras stared up at her elderly employer, who was making her way slowly down the stairs. Sir Integra was well into her 70s, and now had resorted to taking the stairs one at a time as she painstakingly made her way to the lower levels. Going up stairs wasn't as hard, but Seras always cringed inside when she watched the woman heading down; she couldn't help it, remembering the time when Sir Integra wasn't much older than her, and had a much easier time.
"I know bloody well when it takes me longer to get down the damn stairs," the elderly woman puffed, holding onto the banister as she came down, bones creaking. "We can't all be young and fit," she grumbled, eyeing Seras enviously. Although Sir Integra had resolved as a young woman to never become a vampire, Seras knew it must have been hard to grow old and feeble while constantly watching her stay young and vibrant as the years flew by. "I don't need a damn timer."
"Don't be like that," Seras admonished, leaning on the bottom railing as Sir Integra finally reached the bottom. "I was just making a joke." It could have been worse; if Sir Integra thought she was too cheeky, the old woman didn't think twice about smacking her upside the head (although she never hit her as hard as she did Alucard).
"I know, I know," Sir Integra sighed, holding onto the railing while she caught her breath. "I'm just concerned about the boys." Seras sighed. The "boys" were the newer members of the Round Table Conference, the oldest of which had celebrated his 25th birthday earlier that month. They were out practicing their combat skills in the field. Despite being accompanied by veteran soldiers, among them their fathers, Sir Integra still was uneasy about them facing off against supernatural forces at such a young age.
It didn't do any good to remind her that she fought off Nazi invaders at their age, either. She fretted over them like a mother hen over a brood of chicks; however, none of them knew it. She only showed her concern whenever she was alone with Seras. She was pretty sure that if the secret got out that the hardened Sir Integra truly cared about the young men, the old Knight would be mortified. The younger Knights might not even believe it; Sir Integra was harder on them than their own families were.
"Sir, I wouldn't worry," Seras said comfortingly, patting the older woman's shoulder. "They're surrounded by the best of the best, and no vampire's going to get within a few yards of them before being shot down." Sir Integra sighed.
"I know that. But I can't help but worry. They're so soft," she said, shaking her head. "They've been coddled all their lives, and their fathers know it."
"This will open their eyes, then," Seras replied. "It'll do them good." Sir Integra smiled.
"Well, they'll need this before I set them up against you and Alucard. The pair of you will be their final test, I believe. They have to be prepared to fight anyone, even people they've known personally." She stared ahead with a firm expression. "The Valentine Incident taught us that, didn't it?"
"That seems like such a short time ago." Seras frowned. "But it's been… decades." Sir Integra nodded.
"Decades…" she murmured, rubbing her temple. "It makes me feel tired. I wonder if all old people feel this way."
"You're not old," Seras protested. Sir Integra glared at her and she backed a step away. "I mean it! Elderly and old are two different things! You can be elderly, but young at heart!" She thumped her own chest for emphasis.
Sir Integra was going to reply, but the front doors flew open with a bang and startled both women. Jumping behind Sir Integra, Seras shrieked like a banshee while the elder woman whipped her pistol out of her suit and brandished it threateningly.
"Hellsing!" A voice boomed threateningly. Seras ducked lower behind Sir Integra, but her shadows curled protectively around the woman's legs. Staring through the gap between her pistol-wielding arm and her waist, and saw a large shadow in the doorway. Stepping into the light, the shadow turned into a sopping wet man with an angry snarl. "We need to have words!"
He looked to be in his forties, fifty at the most. He was wearing a white cotton shirt with suspenders and khaki pants, with brown shoes that at one point may have been shined. However, his shirt was clinging to his skin and his pants were sagging, barely held up by the suspenders. His hair was a dark, undefinable colour and hung in his eyes, dripping and sodden. His thick, wire-frame glasses were sliding down his wet nose, and he was forced to keep pushing them back up before they fell off completely.
"We do?" Sir Integra said, staring in confusion. "I'm sorry—have we met?"
"I knew your father," the man replied, lifting his head to stare at her straight on. "And your grandfather," he continued, eyeing her with solemn gray eyes. "I—" He paused with a strange look, and then thrust his hands into his pants. Sir Integra's eyes bugged and he pulled a thick vine out of his pants. The vine had a mind of its own, wriggling like a beheaded snaked and trying to impale its vines into the man's wrist.
"I have a complaint to list," he said, throwing the vine back out into the night with an expertise flick of the wrist. "Your men have stormed my home, trampled my garden, shot my windows to shards, and let loose a centuries-old hollyhock that has decided to run rampant and now my entire home is filled to the brim with vines and pollen! I demand recompense!" he finished with a snarl, pushing his hair out of his eyes and stomping one shoe on the ground. His sock squelched in the shoe and he glanced down at it in disgust.
"How did it get into your house?" Sir Integra asked, looking completely baffled. The man smiled scathingly.
"Well, ask your children and their depleted uranium weapons! It mixed with my fertilizer and turned my greenhouse into something from Little Shop of Horrors." Sir Integra shook her head again.
"Just calm down a moment. Let me get you a towel and some clean things, and then we can talk," she said, taking control as she moved forward to push him gently in the direction of the showers. The man's frown lessened and he stepped aside, but followed her down the hall, his shoes squeaking on the tile. "Seras, call Harry to clean all this up," she called over her shoulder.
"Ah, right, sir!" Seras answered, looking around at the puddles on the floor before running off to find the head butler.
After helping Harry to clean up the mess, Seras crept down to the first-floor drawing room, where she felt Sir Integra's presence. She hadn't noticed in the excitement, but the man's personal energy felt strange, supernatural. She realized that he wasn't a human at all, which didn't surprise her. After years of being a vampire, not much surprised her anymore. She'd seen enough of the world to know that humans were a minority where mortals and immortals were concerned.
The man sounded much calmer, and she peeked around the doorframe to see him sitting in a spare dressing gown with a thick towel around his shoulders. He had a glass of tea sitting by his chair, but he paid little attention to it as he scooted closer to the blazing fire. Sir Integra seemed calmer as well, sipping her tea and nodding enthusiastically to the man's words.
"…and it will take three weeks at least for the house to set itself in order. I plan on using as little of my own power to help as possible—I don't want to face another adverse reaction. Humans and their elements seem to respond negatively to them, I see now."
"I understand completely, sir." Sir Integra said, taking another drink and picking up a flat biscuit. "You can be assured that I and my Organization will offer you every commodity that's within our power. We do try to keep these sorts of accidents to the bare minimum, but I'm sure you can understand that where training is concerned…."
"Of course, of course," the man replied, shaking his head and waving his hands dismissively. "I do understand; young blokes getting trigger happy, is all it was. But this is a wonderful learning opportunity for them."
"I agree, I—Seras!" Sir Integra saw the blonde head peering around the door and waved her in. "Come meet our new houseguest. He's going to be staying here while we try to fix the damage done to his home." Seras self-consciously tugged the short skirt and tight shirt that made up her uniform and stepped into the room, glancing curiously at the man.
Now that he was dry, his hair was a light brown and looked fluffy, drifting around his face although it was mostly combed back. He adjusted his glasses on his nose again as he looked her over before smiling. The bright expression pulled at laugh lines around his mouth and made the lightest silver highlights in his eyes glimmer.
"Hello," he purred genteelly, standing and giving her a small bow. He stared at her scrutinizingly, his eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance. "It's been a good many years since I've seen a vampiress. I seem to have forgotten how strikingly beautiful they are." Seras blushed deeply and his smile widened even further, if it were even possible.
"I'm not beautiful," she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn. His eyebrows rose and he tilted his head, looking like an inquisitive puppy.
"No?" he said, looking puzzled. "Well, I think you're very beautiful. Uncommonly so, in fact. I would wager a guess that you are a Lady, or someone of gentry."
"She's just a Police Girl," Sir Integra teased, looking entertained at the sight of the flattered and bewildered woman.
"Ah," the man said, looking as though that cleared up a good many things. Seras smiled uncomfortably, not sure what was happening. Had she stepped through to the Twilight Zone or something? "If I may?" he asked, holding out his hand. She took his hand with the intention of shaking it, but he grabbed it and leaned down to kiss it like she was a princess. The shadows on the room darkened and Seras looked up in the dim light with a soft gasp.
"Oh, Alucard?" she said softly, looking around. The man paused, his lips inches from glove.
"Ah," he whispered, lifting up slightly and looking around expectantly. "And so it begins."
"Huh?" Seras responded. She was going to ask what he meant by that, but her words were cut off in a choke as her legs slid out from under her, her body forcefully pulled back against a hard surface. The room spun for a moment and she blinked hard, feeling arms encircle her chest and tug her farther into the shadows.
"Hello again, old chum." The man smiled, but it seemed a little forced. Sir Integra sat up in her chair, watching the scene cautiously.
"Don't. Touch. Her." The wall behind Seras rumbled and she realized she was pushed back against Alucard's chest, his arm crushing her throat as he held her against him. "What are you doing here?" He sounded furious. The man looked back at Sir Integra, who stood.
"Alucard," she greeted him curtly. "Per orders, he's going to be staying at Hellsing manor until we fix his house," she explained in an authoritative tone. Seras couldn't see Alucard's face, but she was close enough against his chest to hear the almost inaudible growl.
"Don't come near her again," Alucard warned, taking no note of his master's words. Seras made a sound of protest and he squeezed her warningly. Even if he technically had no power over her anymore since she'd became a full vampiress, he still expected her obedience. "Ever."
"I think that depends on her feelings, don't you?" The man said quietly, hands in his pockets. "She should make decisions for herself." The growl forced its way up his throat and he let go of her to grab a table beside the door. A vase with chrysanthemums crashed to the floor, water soaking into the oriental carpet. He raised the table over his head and the man's eyes widened.
"My God, man," he swore, before the surprise was overtaken by a stern, angry expression. "What are you doing to the furniture?! That table wasn't meant to be used in such a fashion!" His next sentence was cut off in a yelp as he ducked behind his armchair, the table shattering against the wall in the space where his head had been a moment before.
"Alucard!" Seras and Integra exclaimed in synch, and the man popped back up over his chair, a vexed expression on his face.
"How rude! That was not your table to smash." He wagged his finger as he said it, as though scolding a small child who had destroyed another's toy. Alucard snarled and raised his glowing gloved fist when Integra smacked her own fist into the arm of her chair.
"Alucard!" She repeated in a harsh tone, "Clean that up this instant." Her visible eye narrowed dangerously behind her glasses and her face tightened with anger; for a moment she looked just like she did before the London Blitz, full of piss and vinegar and with a temper to match.
"Don't bother yourself, m'dear," the man said, walking around the armchair without a thought to the fact that he was now once again in the line of fire. "I'll get it." He picked up the pieces of the table and walked back over to the wall, setting the legs on the ground followed by the broken pieces of the surface. He then thumped it with his thumb and forefinger, moving away.
Seras gaped as she saw the table had been fully fixed, as if it had never been thrown at all. The man took the edge of the oriental carpet and snapped it. Water and shards of china flew in the air faster than even Seras' vampiric vision could follow, but when they came back down he caught an entire vase. He put the chrysanthemums back in the vase and sat it neatly on the table before nodding in satisfaction, the whole thing taking less than thirty seconds.
"Cor…" Seras breathed. "He's like a magician." The arm tightened like steel band around her throat and she choked, her elbow digging into his stomach. He growled warningly at her and she hissed, pulling her arm back to ram her elbow harder into his gut. "Gerroff!" He refused, and pulled her arm up painfully behind her back until she winced.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man striding over to Integra's chair and lean down and she heard his whispered words clearly; "Should I … help?" He glanced at them and Seras gave a strained smile as she arched up onto tip toe and tried to free herself from the iron hold, her throat compressing painfully against the choke hold. She sighed and sagged against him after a moment; if there hadn't been guests, she would have already swung up her legs to offset his balance to send them both into the wall. As it was, she pulled all of her weight towards the floor, trying to free her skull from his impromptu headlock.
Integra looked at them blandly, and raised her teacup to take a leisurely sip. "No, it's normal." She turned back to the man and eyed him speculatively, "Would you like a tour of the manor or to retire to your room?" It was as if the two vampires didn't exist, and Seras flicked her gaze between the elderly human and the whatever-he-was turned house guest.
"Oh, I think I better retire for the night," the man said, rubbing his fluffed hair. "I've grown accustomed to silence, and all this commotion is putting me on edge. I need to recoup, as the soldiers used to say," he laughed.
"Very well," Integra conceded with a slight nod. "Seras, go and take our new guest to a room; I think one of the third floor suits will suit him nicely. Alucard," she growled when the vampire made a move to cut Seras off, his arms still encircling her body, "You stay. It seems that you and I need to have a conversation about the coming weeks, and your behavior." He hesitated. "Drop the girl; that's an order!" she barked suddenly. The gloves glowed and Seras felt the heat of the runes against her skin like a flame. She gasped in pain and he dropped her immediately, allowing her to rub the welt forming on the back of her neck.
The man stepped forward, blatantly ignoring Alucard and the vampire moved towards his master, blatantly ignoring the man in return. Seras looked between the two of them before clearing her throat.
"A-alright, third floor! Follow me," she said with forced chipperness, her cool fingers still prodding the welt. The man obediently fell into step behind her and they left the room, shutting the door behind them. Seras led him silently to the stairs, her face coloring as she considered the awkwardness of the situation. She was slightly embarrassed that this stranger had to see Alucard behaving like that, and her having to try and fight him off.
"I'm sorry that you had to see—"
"Don't bother yourself with it, love," the man cut her off, and she twisted her head to see him waving her apologies away. "I've known that blasted vampire for decades now; nothing he does surprises me much anymore."
"So you and Alucard have a history?" she responded, her curiosity getting the better of her. The man nodded, chuckling.
"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. "A long and violent one, I'm afraid. He loathes me, very much. I daresay he might even "hate my guts", as the colloquialism goes." Seras eyed the man, trying to decide what he could have done to make her former master so angry. Alucard usually didn't care enough about anyone to hate them, or even loathe them for that matter. He either didn't mind your existence or he did, the latter of which didn't live very long after the ancient vampire made his choice.
"What did you do to him?" she finally asked, unable to imagine what the man might have done. The man smiled ruefully and sighed, rolling his shoulders.
"It's a very complicated tale; much too complicated for tonight. If you want to know, I'll tell you tomorrow. To make a long story short, I ruined his life." Seras felt her eyes bug at his words, and even stopped to turn and face him fully. She stared up into his gray eyes, her own searching for any falsehood in his features. He let her look as long as she liked, his sad smile still on his lips.
"You?" she blurted after a long, silent moment. "I can't imagine you doing anything to him that would manage to ruin his life. After all, he's pretty much a servant to humans now and he doesn't let that get to him." The man laughed again, but it was a remorseful sound.
"You're young yet, m'dear. But I'll tell you the story, tomorrow. Be warned, though;" he said, his gaze serious, "I don't sugarcoat my tales. You'll hear the truth, like it or not."
"Good," she replied briskly. "I hate people who beat around the bush. I'd rather hear it plain and simple." They smiled at each other, and without a word moved on towards the room. Seras took him to a suite at the end of the hall, opening the door and showing him in.
All the third floor suites at Hellsing were the same, made for functionality and practicality. There was a king-size bed with plain white sheets, two wooden bedside tables, and a wooden trunk at the foot. A large wooden bureau that matched the tables was pushed against the wall. There was a window seat with plain cushions, and an adjoining bathroom with a walk-in shower. Another room off to the right was a study, complete with a wooden desk and chair.
"I hope you'll be okay in here," Seras said politely, letting the man step into the room and look around. "I don't know where your luggage is, or I'd have it brought up for you."
"Oh, that's quite alright," the man replied absently, gazing around with a thoughtful expression. "I don't have any luggage." Seras was about to question him, but he answered her himself. "I find that—" he opened the bureau, saw it empty, and then closed it. He opened it again and there was an entire wardrobe hung neatly on the metal bar inside, socks and shoes laid on the wooden surface.
"I find that it's easier to just add things as I go, rather than make an effort to pack," he finished his sentence, closing the doors again. He walked to the nearest bedside table and she knew that it was empty, but he opened the drawer and began to pull all manner of things out: a book, a stack of papers, spare glasses, a paperweight in the shape of an eagle.
"D-do you," Seras replied, wonderstruck as he continued to move about the room, pulling things out of drawers and setting up his space. It was the same feeling she had when she was young, and had first watched Mary Poppins pull the coatrack out of her carpetbag. It was a childish, magical feeling that had her grinning.
"Naturally. I never get the feeling that I've forgotten something." He looked over his work, which was now cluttering every available surface in a surprisingly neat manner, and then smiled at her. "Well, I think I'll turn in," he said, staring at her until she realized he was politely telling her to go away. She jerked, still lost in thought about his "magic" powers.
"Oh, yes!" she shook her head, rubbing her hair. She didn't usually daydream, and wondered if it might be a side effect being around his kind, whatever he was. "I'll leave you to it, then, Mr.…." She paused; after all that had happened, she'd never managed to catch his name. "I'm sorry, I don't think you've actually been introduced to me."
"Renfield," he said promptly, grabbing her hand and giving it a good shake. "R.M. Renfield, but most find it easier to leave the initials off and just go by my surname." Seras felt her jaw drop; her mind was working in overtime.
"Ren—wait," she said slowly, trying to catch up to her out of control thoughts. "That Renfield?" She had never felt any sort of denial for who Alucard was. She had put two and two together easily enough during the Blitz, and after all was said and done she'd read everything about Dracula she could get her hands on, including the titular novel (which, Sir Integra had explained, was far more romanticized than the real life situation had ever been).
"I dunno," he said, still clasping her hand lightly. He was warm, but not hot like a human. She wondered briefly if his skin was really as cold as hers. "Do you know another Renfield? I was always led to believe I was the only one."
"No, I just…" Seras faltered, unsure of how to explain it. When she'd read the book, the character of Renfield had seemed so...well, in any case, this had not been what she'd thought of. This Renfield was witty and perhaps a little eccentric, but not—"You're not a looney?" she said quickly, before thinking that it might be offensive to say something like that to someone you've just met.
"Posh," the man said, shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm utterly mad, mental, deranged, and psychologically inept," he assured her. "But then again, aren't we all?"
"I'm not," Seras replied indignantly. Renfield grinned slyly.
"But you admit to the existence of vampires, werewolves, dæmons, magic, and all occult forces of the supernatural?" Seras paused, eyeing him askance for a long moment.
"Of course," she finally said with a nod. "I am a vampire. Of course they exist."
"Well then, according to worldly standards you are a verifiable lunatic, my dear." He tilted his head with a strange expression, and for a moment he did look insane. Seras felt a shiver work its way up her spine and suddenly wished that Alucard was there to drag her away. But as quick as the moment had come, it had passed and she was left wondering what it was she had been frightened of, for he seemed as harmless as before.
"Oh." Seras had nothing else to say to his logic. "Oh."
"Good-night, Seras Victoria." He pushed her gently out the door and closed it with an audible click. She stood in the hall, wracking her brains and trying to remember if she'd told him her full name. She got creeped out before deciding that Sir Integra must have told him her surname. Still, she had the strange feeling that Renfield had been able to see more about her than she had about him.
She wasn't sure if she liked that.
"Don't be angry." Seras was standing in Alucard's chambers, where it looked like a hurricane had swept through. Things were thrown everywhere, but Seras herself remained untouched. "I was just doing what I was told. And besides, it's my business who I speak to, and I can take care of myself."
"I never said you couldn't." Alucard had finished his rage-fueled rampage, and now was in his chair staring at the wine bottle dejectedly. Whatever Sir Integra had told him had worked—he hadn't gone after Renfield, but he hadn't spoken a word about him either until Seras had brought it up.
"It's implied," she countered, walking over and pouring him some wine in a glass. "Here, cheer up a little. You don't have to look at him, you know." She handed him the glass and he took it, frowning at it before taking a sip and placing it back on the table.
"I don't want him near you," Alucard declared. "Everything he gets his hands on becomes ruined." Seras groaned.
"We talked about sexual innuendos, didn't we?" she said sarcastically, wrinkling her nose. "Besides, he seems like a gentleman. More of a gentleman than you, anyway," she teased softly. "He told me outright that he ruined your life, and he even offered to tell me the story tomorrow night." She let the words hang in the air, hoping he would make an offer to tell her his side of the story. But, as always, he seemed dead-set against telling her anything about himself.
"Don't believe everything he says," was all Alucard replied.
"I'll believe what I want." She paused, and then stepped closer, her hand on his shoulder. "It won't change my opinion of you, no matter what I hear. I've already made my impression, and that's going to stay the same."
"What is your opinion of me?" Alucard asked, and even though he tried to hide it Seras could hear the curiosity in his tone. She smiled and winked at him, but didn't answer.
"It's late. I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." She had the fleeting urge to bend down and kiss his forehead, but squashed it and turned to leave with a smile. He didn't need to know how she felt about him. He'd laugh at her, or even worse—get angry. And she couldn't help her innermost desires.
"Good day, Seras Victoria," he said quietly, and she turned at the door, watching him pick the wineglass up gingerly and take a long drink. She suppressed a sigh and walked slowly up the hall to her chambers. As excited as she was to know the full story, she wished she could hear it from him.
It made her wonder if he might be ashamed to tell it.
Afterword: Renny's back. With a vengeance. :P