Author's Note: When I was a small Juju (let's say 6th grade) I got my hands on my first copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula. Granted, I was too small to really understand the sexual parts of it, but I got the gist of it pretty well, and I loved the character of Count Dracula. Some of this love may have rubbed from Count Chocula to Count Dracula, but that's another story for another day.
The point is, afterwards when Juju was a little bit older (let's say 8th grade), I got to see the 90's movie (without my parent's permission; Pentecostal parents would never let me willingly watch Keanu Reeves have a…foursome, I guess?). I liked it because Juju is a hopeless romantic, and of course later on I watched the Bella Lugosi version and then even later on I watched Van Helsing (which I'm still not sure about my feelings on it. Hugh Jackman doe.)
The point is, I enjoy Dracula almost as much as the Major loves war. That's one of the main reasons I got into Hellsing. So you can say this is my homage to a Hellsing version of Dracula…. Sorta. It's like Seras is like "How dis happen?" and Alucard be like "See, wha' happened wuz" (coughs awkwardly) Anyway.
Én nem a saját Hellsing. Én sem a saját Dracula. Ez egy rajongói történet.
"Master?" Seras sat under the phonograph, listening to the record play its scratchy tune. She was curled up under the end table, half for lack of a place to sit—half to see if she'd actually fit under there. She heard him clinking his glass against the table above her head and peered up at him. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to go ahead and ask her question. "We've been together a long time, right?"
"Your definition of long and mine are completely opposite things," he replied dismissively. Seras mused on that for a moment before crawling out from under the table as the music swelled to its beautiful crescendo. She knelt by his chair, resting her chin on the arm and humming along to the music before speaking.
"100 years is still pretty long, to me. I guess because I'm still so young." He nodded absently, his fingers drumming along with the music on the arm of the chair. "Exactly a hundred years," she repeated firmly. He looked down at her with a cryptic smile.
"I haven't forgotten. It's still as beautiful a moon as the one I walked under a century ago," he assured her. She laughed softly, listening to the final strains of music as the record ended and the needle began to skip on the vinyl.
"So you'll keep your promise?" she asked, fidgeting on her knees as she watched his hands move to stop the player. He paused a moment, tilting his head thoughtfully before shrugging.
"Remind me what it was that I promised you, Seras. I say lots of things." She sighed and leaned forwards, her breasts squishing against the arm as she narrowed her eyes and mimicked his rumbling purr.
"If you live to be a hundred, then I'll tell you what really happened," she quoted. "Word-for-word, Master; you've got to keep your promise. I know you hate liars." He waved his hand as though her words were visible things he could shoo away.
"Yes, yes. I remember now." He eyed her askance, crimson orbs meeting her scarlet ones. "Do you think you're prepared to hear such a tale? It's nothing like the book."
"I know it's not. You've told me before." Seras walked on her knees until she was sitting in front of his legs, reaching out to stroke the soft cloth of his pants before turning around and settling between them, one boot on either side of her hip. "I don't care how awful you were. I want to hear about what happened, between you and van Helsing." She craned her neck back, but was unable to catch a glimpse of his face. She heard his irritable sigh and he remained silent for the longest time, until she wondered if he'd ever begin to start talking.
"You have to remember," he finally started, "that this was another time, another place. Some of the things I'll tell you will sound barbaric to your ears; although at the time they were perfectly natural occurrences."
"I told you a hundred years ago; I'm not going to judge anything until I hear the whole story." She turned around to look seriously at him. "I'm not human anymore; I've learned to relax my human convictions a little. You know that." He laid a hand on her head, rustling the hairs almost gently.
"Yes, my little Draculina. I know that." He frowned as the shadows around her moved and a familiar hat appeared, followed by the rest of the Frenchman who shared space in her head.
"I want to hear this too," he informed them both with a grin, smoke rising from the eternally lit cigarette he carried around. Seras scowled and shoved him back into the shadows with her boot, giving him her best angry glare.
"I'll tell you the abridged version later. Go away; this is a private conversation." Captain Bernadotte waggled his eyebrows at her.
"If it's like the other sort of private conversations between you two, I want to hear all the details." Seras blushed deeply, her cheeks turning redder than her eyes as she kicked him full on in the face and forced him to dissipate into shadow tendrils.
"GET OUT!" she screeched angrily. Alucard laughed as she settled herself back between his legs, crossing her arms and huffing indignantly.
"No matter how many years pass, the French will always be the French," he declared with a sip of his wine. Seras growled at him before tapping his knee with her fist.
"Come on then. On with the story."
Afterword:
Many Prologue
Very Short
Much Mystery
Wow