I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO HELLSING

Summary: A bored late night conversation quickly turns to Alucard's historical lineage.

Rating: K+

A/N: Just reposting an old story from an old account.

Inquiring Minds Want To Know

"Which 'Dracula' were you?" asked Integra. She knew that touching on such a subject was a major no-no in her relationship with her some five century year old vampire. She, however, was feeling particularly "lucky" that night. Alucard, however, remained uncharacteristically silent. He granted her only a fierce stare over the top of his orange tinted sunglasses.

Integra began again. "Exactly, which 'Dracula' were you? If any? There were supposedly three or four, was it? Sons of Dracul. You could be any one of them. I believe most of the unsuspecting public credit Vlad Tepes as being an inspiration for Stoker –"

"Stoker also wrote that I died in his novel," Alucard cut in with a tone as dry as the Sahara. His insinuation that the novelist in question could not be entirely trusted was not lost on Integra. "We know he embellished on that little fact," he murmured before defiantly folded his arms against his chest.

Watching her servant fold up, Integra began to wonder if her un-dead companion was debating within the confines of his warped mind whether or not to simply walk out like he had done before when the topic had been brought up. For whatever reason, he was despondent on the entire subject. A younger Integra had taken the hint and made a mental note of the subject as a sort of trump card for her, even though she never used it again – that is until now.

Integra decided against pursuing her question a third time. Instead, she chose to move through the proverbial gate Alucard had just opened. "Why do you think Stoker 'embellished', as you say, his story?"

Alucard furrowed his brow, agitated by her question. She had to have known the obvious answer. If she hadn't, he would have had to seriously reevaluate his "servant-master" condition as of present. He lowered his head, allowing his sunglasses to slide down the bridge of his nose, exposing his intimidating red glare. None of which seemed to have an effect on his young master. His expression was as if to say : 'What the hell kind of question was that?' But, he did not elaborate on his thoughts, considering Integra had read his facial features well enough. The fact that she looked upon him with calm, almost omnipotent, eyes made him wonder if she was setting a verbal trap.

Alucard gave a sigh before continuing. "So he could sleep well at night as could the general public that read his book. The bad guy always dies, or some such nonsense," he answered wryly.

"But, he did get some of the facts correct? Did he not? Such as you were Roma-"

"And, with you Miss van Helsing?" he asked, exaggerating the name to make a point.

Integra folded her arms comfortably upon her desk, and laced her fingers. She lifted an eyebrow, somewhat amused by his stance on the subject. His resistance, as of now, made her feel as if she had to pursue the subject. She wasn't sure if her feverish want of exposing who he was stemmed from a vain need to conquer the evaded topic of years past with the skills she had acquired since her youth, or if his unwillingness to provide her a sufficient answer proved to be a challenge. Or, perhaps there was a deeper underlying reason behind her sudden lack of attention to the relatively small pile of paperwork that needed tending to. She had been the one to start the taboo conversation, had she not? She had instigated the entire thing, so she must have wanted something from it? Integra quickly gave a slight shake of her head as she tried to brush the true reason behind her madness from entering her thoughts. She was afraid it was a trick set by her verbal opponent, or, perhaps, even worse, her own "human" wants.

"Don't bother continuing on this line of questioning it is redundant," Alucard's voice sharp and firm, making his remark not a request but rather an order. "I've shed that past," his hiss could match any cold blooded serpent's.

Integra laughed at his ill contrived evasion. "And where did it go? Did you throw it into the dark, or are you suffering from dementia due to old age?"

"You know not the benefits of the dark," he said, slyly leaning over her desk, ignoring both her question and the crashing noise that his glasses made as they fell down upon her desk. His fangs lapped over his bottom lip as he glanced maniacally over at her.

"Nor will I ever," Integra replied, seemingly unaffected by his grotesque demonstration of vampirism. She causally rolled her chair back away from her desk, and began to stand upon realizing that he was trying to match taboo for taboo. She stood glancing over at him with a sour expression which inevitably melted into a frown.

"Is it your petty mortal morals that stop you, or is it the fact that I would be your Master?" Even though Alucard was standing a good length away from her position behind the leather chair, Integra felt as if his sadistic voice was breathing those cold poisonous words into her ears.

More of the latter, Integra thought silently to herself. She was far too stubborn to give him an A-or-B answer to that impertinent question. "You can fight within the confines of darkness, where no one can see you. But, those who fight in broad daylight are by far the more skilled for they take their opponents on in the light where the only difference between life and death is the cunning and skill of each individual. But I suppose that is why your kind only 'moonlight' as vampires," she retorted.

"Well, since you are the 'light' I suppose you are worthy of my dark," he offered backhandedly, and too entertained for his own good, or so thought his master.

"No." She paused, and slowly traveled the length of the room before halting while eying her servant. "Light can always dispel the darkness of shadow."

"But, the deepest dark can always consume – devour the light." He lifted a brow in amusement… at least he had gotten her off of his namesake.

"But, one can never agree with the other. Total opposites that are neither compromising nor yielding. Light becomes tainted by the dark if it falters -- the purity wanes until it is utterly extinguished. Is this why you crept back to Transylvania afterwards? To begin where one was born? To find a light in the dark, but ending up only to cast a shadowy spell around all you touched?" As she spoke, Alucard began to grow agitated. It seemed his indomitable wrath dressed in the vessel of a man was trying to intimidate her into silence, but she prevailed even though the air around her seemed to grow eerily thin and chilly. "To remember the man you were?" she asked, lifting a brow. A thin smile separated her lips. Alucard glared at her, finding her evaluation of his former self most disagreeable.

A still silence befell the two until Integra's mocking voice interrupted the suffocating tension. "I will take that as a 'yes'," she said, straightening her posture and moving past him with a slight victorious swagger.

"You take comfort in your evaluation on me and my kind," he began in a low mocking hiss.

Integra halted dead in her footsteps as an impatient signal for him to continue, and continue quickly.

"Reflection. Reflecting, isn't that what light does? It reflects itself off of mirrors, correct?" he began. " It's an old trick," he added cryptically. Integra slightly turned her head to the side upon hearing his reply to her silence. Her face stoic, yet her eyes radiated a blue flame of annoyance.

"In English," she growled somewhat agitated by his obvious double meaning.

"Pardon," he began with a mocking chuckle, "had I slipped into Romanian while we were conversing?" he mused playfully, knowing full and well his remarks were annoying his master, much like her remarks had annoyed him. "You lost sight that I have no Earthly want of redemption. I have no 'soul'. I am empowered only by a monstrous desire. I only understand enough of humans to infiltrate. To walk unnoticed. To prey upon… But you," he laughed, amused by his master, "but you lose sight of what I am." When the words escaped his mouth, Integra was not overtaken by what tone – what cadence -- was meant to be delivered from his biting tongue. Instead, she heard a slight reflection of emotion -- "human emotion." By Alucard's standards – weakness. She glanced over her shoulder, and tried to fight back a grin of satisfaction. He, in turn, stood hesitant, realizing his tongue had betrayed him.

"Perhaps you should mean what you say, not say what you mean," Integra slyly offered.

"And perhaps you should understand your feelings instead of feeling only what you understand," Alucard retorted before melting slowly into the floor.

Integra heaved a sigh and continued sluggishly back to her desk to finish her paperwork. Feeling like once again the conversation had not been resolved, but had only ended in a stalemate.