Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or its characters. They belong to Hirano Kohta and whatever corporate entity has licensed the Hellsing portion of his soul. I have no monetary interest in Hellsing's characters and I write only to amuse myself.


Seras didn't know what she thought about Valentine's Day anymore. She'd spent so long with the Hellsing Organization that hearts and the color red only made her think of targets to shoot and the color of her dinner.

She sat morosely on the steps outside the kitchen and watched the clouds' shadows paint the night with silver and black. She almost didn't see the shadow that slipped along the wall and into the kitchen garden.

It was an excuse; she knew it was an excuse. She knew whom she'd seen, but she told herself that she would investigate in case there was an intruder on the grounds.

Seras peeked around the corner and into the garden. How the Hellsing gardeners managed to have so much growing in there in the middle of February mystified her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet and savory scent of flowers and herbs with the sharper tang of tomato vines and courgettes. Under those, she could smell the warmer aroma of the man she had followed.

Her curiosity pushed her farther into the garden and she wasn't surprised when the kneeling man's head came up as though he were scenting the air for danger. Seras smiled and held her empty hands out at her sides when he saw her. One did not sneak up on the Angel of Death, after all.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. I saw something moving and wanted to be sure it wasn't a bad guy."

She watched Walter stand and brush off the knees of his trousers. "That is most commendable, Miss Victoria, if a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything important, I'll just go." She turned to leave, feeling like an idiot for bothering him.

"You don't have to leave, Seras." Walter called to her before she could go. "I was just going to prepare your gift, but we can talk while they open." He picked his way through the rows of plants and smiled down at her.

With a gentle hand at her elbow, he guided her back into the house and through to his private office. She watched him bustle around, gathering a vase and a desk lamp and arranging a small variety of flowers in the vase. At least she assumed they were flowers that had closed their petals for the night. It was a strange idea of a gift for a vampire – flowers that she wouldn't be awake to see in their beauty.

He turned on the lamp and pointed it at the vase before pulling a book from one of the bookshelves that lined the walls. He pulled the guest chair up next to his office chair and asked her to sit.

"I gave a lot of thought to what would be a good gift for you. You're not easy to shop for, and a new weapon just didn't seem to fit the spirit of the day." Seras giggled at the thought of getting a gun even bigger than her Harkonnen with a big red bow on it.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Walter. I didn't get you anything."

"If I had to give you a gift, it wouldn't be much of a gift, in my opinion. I wanted to give you something on Valentine's Day. It can get lonely around here, as I well know." He opened the book and laid it on his desk between them. "This is a book on Victorian flower language. They were experts at expressing feelings without doing anything as unseemly as showing them for others." He chuckled, "They remind me of many of Hellsing's staff."

The book was beautifully illustrated and Seras was captivated by the many meanings that could be attached to a simple flower. She'd never thought that some flowers would actually have negative meanings, either. She'd never look at a buttercup the same way again.

Of course, roses meant love. Why else would Valentine's Day be filled with roses? She stole a look at the vase that Walter had left sitting next to the lamp and wondered what he was up to.

He turned through the book and pointed out another amusing message you could send with lettuce. Together they contrived the perfect bouquet for Sir Integra to send to Enrico Maxwell. Seras laughed until she was in tears at the image of the Iscariot priest accepting a bouquet that shouted in flower language that he was a self-absorbed, vain git who Integra hoped would die an icy death.

When Seras had stopped laughing, Walter put his hand on her arm. At her questioning look, he nodded to the vase where she saw that the flowers had opened under the lamp.

"It's an ultraviolet growth bulb. Daisies are night shy and I wanted you to be able to enjoy them." He turned the pages back to the listings of daisies and their meanings.

Innocence. So he thought she was innocent. She supposed that wasn't such an awful message to receive on Valentine's Day. She continued to read: innocence, simplicity, a newborn baby, cheerfulness and sympathy. "I guess I am kind of a newborn, aren't I?"

"I suppose you could read it that way, yes. Although that was not my intended message. Please read on."

Seras looked up at the daisies again. He actually had a variety of daisies in the vase and she wondered how long he'd been planning her gift. The red one in the middle of the arrangement attracted her attention. "Red daisy: beauty unknown to the possessor. Oh Walter, that's such a sweet thing to say."

She read more, "Wild daisy: I share your sentiments. Are there any wild daisies in there?" He shook his head. "Also known as day's eye and moon pennies."

"Keep reading."

"Other meanings include I'll never tell, purity and…"

Walter took her hand away from the book and smiled when she looked, wide-eyed at him, "Other meanings include I'll never tell, purity and loyal love." He laid a kiss on her hand and passed the bouquet of daisies to her. "Happy Valentine's Day, Seras."

•••

A few days later Walter awoke knowing someone had been in his room while he slept. He put the knife he'd instinctively grabbed away when he saw the large bouquet of wild daisies on his bedside table.