A/N: This is the warm and fuzzy part of te story. After this it all goes down hill. Hope who ever reads this likes it.

No Harm In Watching


Six...maybe ten, Alucard couldn't decide how old the girl in the looking glass was. He noted she no longer had to stand on a stool to see into the tiny mirror her father placed on the desk. But that didn't tell him her age. For all he knew she was just a really tall five year old. Dismissing the notion as unimportant he went back to his leering. It didn't matter anyway, age did not change the fact of how delectable she looked with her nose scrunched up and brows furrowed. Disappointment was written over every inch of her person and it made him laugh to see how vain she could be.

Little Hellsing might look irked but it was a wonderful day for Alucard when she got her glasses. She pouted at the mirror, sticking her tongue out to show her displeasure, but dutifully put them on. Now Alucard could go where she went and see what she saw.- As long as it was in the confines of the estate of course. Trying to extend his reach any further could get him noticed.- He'd have to be careful though in case she caught a glimpse of hell hounds in her lenses.

"Miss Hellsing," A familiar voice called out to the both of them. They swung around, Alucard's vision of the little girl altering to a stuffy English library, and together they greeted the retainer of the Hellsing family.

Walter...Alucard knew now he hadn't slept that long if Walter was still around. Yes, these new spectacles would work out just fine for the both of them.

"The seamstress will be here in an hour." Walter said bowing slightly at the hip.

"What? Not again." Little Hellsing whined. She had spent all day couped up in the library as appointment after excruciatingly dull appointment drowned away. A hair dresser had cut her hair, new shoes were ordered, her physical done. Which in turn resulted in these ridicules glasses! Now she had to play pin cushion to that senile old bat they got to tailer her cloths.

"Why do I have to be fitted?" She pleaded. "The other girls go with their moms into town..."

"Sweetheart..." A firm voice spoke to her back.

Ashamed Little Hellsing turned to face her father. She might not like the days events but she hated even more to upset him. She had forgotten her manners and mentioned her mother. As an unwritten rule the two never spoke of her and here she was selfishly throwing her in his face.

When Arthur saw his daughters lower lip jut out he immediately forgave her mistake. Crossed arms fell slack, back to his side and his eyes softened. Alucard had never seen his former master cave in so fast or look so...paternal.

Arthur swept his daughter into his arms and placed her on his hip.

"You know I'm busy." Playfully tweaking her nose he spun her around a quick turn and put her down.

Chastised she scuffed the floor with her shoe and sheepishly looked down.

"I know... It's just, you sleep most of the day and your gone at night. You've even taken to cutting our lessons short. I'm bored and I miss doing things with you."

A heavy sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes. Of course she wanted to spend more time with him, she was only a child after all. But with his illness and the new threat terrorizing London his time was monopolized. Placing a hand on his daughters head he soothed her brow with his thumb. She was a good child, as a commander he couldn't ask for a better replacement, as a father she was the most precious gift he could ask for, yet as much as he loved her the country came first.

"My darling, I promise when things settle down and I'm feeling better you and me will take a trip anywhere you want." Arthur smiled down at his daughter to reassure her, but Alucard knew better. Arthur had worn the same smile the day he locked him in the dungeon; that smile meant he was lying.

"I'm sorry." She slipped her tiny hand between his gloved one and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Run along, but be back by three. The seamstress dislikes having to wait." He patted her on the back and shewed her to the door.

"Sir is that the best idea?" Walter was late to voice his objection.

Quickly before they could change their minds and make her stay she bolted for the exit. Looking back she smiled at her father and Walter, then disappeared behind the closed door.

Both men felt a sudden stab in their gut when she turned around, but neither voiced their concern. As she left they saw a red tint reflecting off the lenses that had not been there earlier. Surely a mere trick of the light, the alarms would have sounded; each rationalized to calm their senses but the feeling stayed.


Running down the hall Alucard saw a blur of images. Paintings of former residents, bust of long dead kings, locked door's with all sorts of goodies inside. What a joyous way to see the world, the girl taking turns he did not remember, weaving her way further into the original part of the estate.

What luck Alucard had today, he couldn't believe his former comrades where still alive. He had suspected them dead, all the mistakes in their lives catching up to them. Yet here they were, alive and responsible for the child that was bring mirth to his subjugated days. He should have known, no one but those two could have raised the girl.

Walter was aging nicely he observed. The gray strands suited him, he finally looked the way he always acted. Unfortunately the same could not be said for Arthur. Alucard's former master was looking the worse for ware. His complexion was languid and he had a worn haggard appearance to him. Normally his suits were tailored but Alucard had noticed them hanging off his frame. Something was amiss, this was not the same master who had commanded him and locked him away. This Arthur Alucard had never seen before...

Plus, they were much taller than he remembered, then of course he was seeing them from her eyes.

Before he could continue with his current train of thought Alucard abruptly skidded to a halt out side an ordinary oak door at the end of the hall. Now this room he remembered.

Years ago an associate of her fathers told her large gala's use to be thrown at the Hellsing manor. Nobility came from all over and that her grandfather had thrown wonderful parties. At the time she had laughed. In her short life she couldn't remember even a small dinner gathering being thrown. However during one of her expeditions to the old wings she had stumbled upon this secret.

After checking to make sure no one was around Hellsing's daughter stepped onto a polished marble floor. A ballroom, just like in stories only better because it is hers.

The walls are painted a deep cobalt blue ensconced by gilded molding to create panels on the wall. In each panel hung an identical mirror twice the size of a man. There are more mirrors in this one room than in the entire house, the surface laced with them creating a kaleidoscope impression. Even the door when shut is lost in the elaborate adornments. Above her is an ornate ceiling mimicking the outside of a Fabergé egg and to crown it off in the center a gothic chandelier. Carved from wood to resemble an upside down Westminster Abby, with the Hellsing crest painted around a hoop base that once housed candles.

"Magnificent," she breathed.

Although no one had used the ballroom in years it was relatively clean with a musky scent as a result of not being aired out for almost a decade. Iridescent yellow light came from frosted windows hidden in the ceilings design. The effect lent the room an ethereal quality haloing the young girl. Cob webs formed in the corners of the room and the floor was starting to loose it's shine. The mirrors where beginning to haze with a golden smog. Such a beautiful room, once cherished, now decaying from lack of love.

This had once been a joyous house... The girl looked longingly upon her surroundings. Now the inhabitants had no use for frivolous activities. Or at least that's what Arthur had told her when she had asked him one day about the room.

Not one to normally indulge in fantasy her self, Little Hellsing could not help but be swept away by the drama of it all. No amount of training changed the fact she was a little girl, and no matter how hardened every little girl if only for a second wished to be the princess at a ball.

Alucard watched as the little Hellsing resonated on every surface. In each mirror a thousand more stood in line. She looked so happy like the child that she was.

Bright azure eye's shone with impish glee. She could pretend for a moment...

All around the copies of herself became party goers and the reflection in front of her she imagined to be a knight...just like her dad. She filled the ballroom with figments and phantoms of her own creation. Her frumpy skirt and blouse now a gown fit for a queen.

"Shall we dance?" Little Hellsing pulled the folds of her pleated skirt and dipped low in a practiced curtsy. Behind her though one reflection faced her back and bowed.

Of course, rang Alucard's silent reply.

Stale air moved to a melody long dead within the grand hall. First she swayed her arms gently from side to side; the music in her head soft and distant. Following the arms her hips came next. Back and forth like a pendulum keeping time... Straining her ears to listen Hellsing picked up on the beat, a waltz...beautifully seductive. She had seen moving pictures of elegantly clad ladies being swept across the floor by their partners once; It would be nice to one day be like those women. She swore she heard the stings hum by her side.-That was silly of course, the music was all in her mind- Rocking to the lull of forgotten symphonies she waited for the crescendo. As a wave over takes the beach it swelled and washed over her forcing her to take a step.

One two three.

One two three.

She kept time in her head. Dipping and swaying she danced around the room, the score of reflections following her lead. Except for one who countered her movements. Alucard pretended to guide her across the floor. He let the song buried deep in his subconsciouses rise to the surface. Once he had danced to this song with another...It seemed only appropriate to dance to it now with Hellsing's daughter.

The forte rang and the girl child reached her arms to the sky. Around and around she spun eye's closed, whipping her skirts in a frenzy; like a whirling dervish, pounding the ground stomping out a rhythm for her own. Alucard stopped his dance to watch her. The smile that lit her face was a joy the melancholy home had not seen in years.

In years to come Alucard would remember this moment when his master looked solemn or bitter. He'd recall her smile, her freedom in the dance and would vow to see it returned one day.

Until then he relished in the chimes of her mirth. Pure, crystalline laughter unmarred by the poison of mankind. She laughed so hard Little Hellsing doubled over clutching her lower abdomen. Rolling on to her side the fit continued until she thought she'd turn blue.

How silly of her to pretend she'd ever dance at a ball like that. As a Hellsing she had more important work to do than flit around, still it had been nice... She began to take deep breaths gulping greedily for air.

Yes this had been a fun place once, the ballroom was living proof, now a tomb like the rest of her house. Getting to her knees she stood up and brushed the dirt from her skirt. The seamstress would be coming.

Sighing she resigned herself to her fate.

Glacially she let her hand skip across the mirrors, while she looked for the door. In mid step Helling stopped, taking two steps back she slowly faced her reflection. It tilted it's head when she did. Stuck out the same tongue. The doppelgangar moved like her, looked like her, but it wasn't her. Out of the sea that made up her reflection this one had red eyes. She had caught the anomaly while passing by. Hellsing waved her hand, not sure what to make of the trick, then placed it firmly on the placid surface. She leaned in further her warm breath fogging up the glass. The facsimile in the mirror smiled and blew her a kiss.

Yelping, Little Hellsing stumbled back tripping over her legs. She fell to the floor with a crash, her rear the cushion to her fall. She shook her head and wildly looked for the other her with red eyes but all she saw was the shimmer of blue. At her side she heard the door creak open. Scrambling to her feet she bolted for the hall.

Silently the door closed. In the darkened dance hall the chandelier burned crimson and out stepped Alucard still behind the looking glass. His body shook with laughter. It had been a risk but well worth it.

Yes definitely ten...or six.