She sighs deeply. They'd been mingling at this boring party for nearly two hours and her patience was wearing as thin as Alucard's. Glancing quickly at his stoic form beside her, she admits a bit of admiration for his control. Though he hadn't voiced it, Integra knew that Alucard's nerves were fraying at having to deal with all of these pompous, stupid humans. She smirks to herself, for once agreeing with his disdain for humanity. Had the Queen not requested her attendance, she certainly would have avoided it. Some minutes later, Alucard finally speaks, suggesting that they've "had enough of this mindless torture". She agrees, sending him to fetch their wrappings.
Observing the crowd as she sips the last of her drink, she spots an odd sight. Chatting amiably with Duke somebody, his name escapes her, is a round, little man in a white tuxedo and tails. His companion, a slim brunette wearing a strapless, blood-red sheath, who looks much too good to be with him, proves equally odd. The man's mop of blonde hair flops unceremoniously over thick, black glasses, not obscuring his obviously strategic smile. His arm drapes casually around the girl's waist, her hair piled stylishly upon her head. Her smile is one of amusement, but of what Integra isn't sure.
A low growl, that's the only way to describe the sound coming from Alucard, distracts her from her analysis. Looking up at him, she can see recognition and fury playing across his normally impassive features. Following his gaze, she's surprised to find her eyes settling on the odd couple she'd been observing.
"Who are they," she whispers.
"Nazis," he spits.
She's startled, not by Alucard's statement, but by his vehemence. Looking back at him, her brow furrows. She knows he has no concerns about humans and their affiliations, so why is it important this time? Realizing she's staring, she turns away to find the smiling man and his escort heading their way. Uncharacteristically, Alucard places a protective hand in the small of her back. Stealing a glance, she catches his face back in its expressionless mask.
"Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing," the little man extols, bowing and kissing her white-gloved hand, "it is a pleasure to met you."
His thick German accent fails to hide the disdain beneath his words.
"I am Major Montana Max and this is my assistant, Miss Van Winkle."
"Major. Miss Van Winkle," she nods politely. "To what do I owe the... pleasure of your company."
By the glint in the Major's eyes, he understood her insult perfectly.
"Ah, Sir Hellsing, I merely wanted to introduce myself to all of the guests. As the Queen did not grace me with an invitation, I was forced to crash."
A nasty smile adorns his lips and Integra suddenly notices his tie, swastikas on a white background. She raises and eyebrow and smirks in appreciation of his boldness. A closer look at his assistant's dress reveals small, black swastikas edging the bodice and the tops of her long, red gloves. Yes, quite bold.
"Well," the Major begins, clapping his hands together like some demented mad scientist, "I believe we shall be taking our leave. Sir Integra. Alucard," he finishes with a click of his heels and a bow. Placing a hand on his assistant's back, he directs her toward another group of nobles on his way out the door. She and Alucard watch the little man and his assistant a few moments more.
"I wonder how he knew who we were," she ponders to Alucard.
Not replying, he places her wrap over her shoulders and dons his overcoat. Once out of the building, they climb into their private limo to Hellsing headquarters, unaware of two pairs of cold eyes observing them from a nearby vehicle.
"Why don't we follow them and have our army finish them off now," Rip argues, pulling off her gloves.
"Patience my dear," the Major replies, loosening his tie and settling into the comfort of their sedan. "Patience. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold."
A/N: Anfang (German, per Babel fish) Debut (n.) First appearance; entrance; introduction; unveiling