I do not own the rights to Hellsing

-2-

Moonlight Sonata

"Are you afraid, Master?" Alucard questioned, letting his presence be known as he shifted eerily through a wall. He was indulging himself to her unsaid thoughts, and he had just found an interesting conversational piece.

Integral, who sat chin cupped in hand, was pouring over the perplexity of the items delivered to her. She ignored his nonsensical question, for she was already tired and aggravated as it was. But, the longer he stood impetuously waiting for her attention, the more her patience waned.

"Afraid of death?" he continued, elaborating on his previous question. The question in regards to what he had found swirling around in her thoughts.

So it begins, she sighed to herself. Integra acknowledge his intrusion with a blank stare. Her expression announced that in no uncertain terms he was wasting her time. And, what little strand of patience she had maintained, had finally snapped like a twig.

"But, is that not what makes us different?" her voice fell upon the room like an icy chill.

Alucard grinned with satisfaction that he had finally managed to get her attention. "That I don't fear death?" He smirked.

"I wouldn't go that far," she corrected strictly. "In fact, I was thinking quite the contrary," she retorted.

Alucard tilted his head so that his orange tinted sunglasses fell slightly down his nose, allowing exposure of his eyes. An 'I-can't-wait-to- hear-this,' expression was clearly painted into his cold features.

Integra noted his expression and continued. "Humans, good men, can defeat a monster because they accept their mortality. Monsters, such as yourself, feed off the humans' weakness – death. But, was it not your own fear of death that drove you to this 'immortality'? You are still existing only to purge your fear by feeding off of those who you deem 'lesser'. You were – are just as afraid of death as the humans you deal it to. Your fear of the sun stems from your fear of the vulnerability daylight brings, which in turn stems from your existing fear of dying. This is why only a man can kill a monster. The human spirit can transcend his fear of death, while your fear has consumed you."

Alucard did not like the direction this conversation had taken. He pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, and defiantly folded his arms against his chest.

"This is why you think humans low, but yet you continue to live among us," Integra began again. "You take pleasure in our riches. You still long for power – power over humans – power over your master. You demonstrated this much when you turned the police girl. A blond haired, blue eyed, virginal orphan – tell me, Alucard, does this not remind you of someone? Your lust for power over me had perverted your mind into ensnaring – enslaving a version similar to me. However, I am not Seras, and Seras is not me. Did you think me so blind as not to have noticed this? Who is in control now, servant?" Integra finished as she forcefully took to her feet, and slammed her hands against the top of her desk. Her chair flew backwards and crashed into the wall behind it.

Alucard stared coldly in her direction before running his fingers over the brim of his hat and bowed slightly as if he were mocking her. "Good evening, Master," he hissed letting his sharp fangs lap over his pale bottom lip. Abruptly he erupted into sprawling shadows which sunk into the walls and the floor.

--

Later the same night, Walter stood leaned over Seras Victoria's Harkonnen. His attention and skill were focused on cleaning and repairing the weapon. He took great care as he disassembled the piece and examined it thoroughly before proceeding to clean and tune it.

"Where is Master and Sir Integra?" Seras asked politely as she walked into the room. She paused with great interest as she looked onto see precisely what Walter was occupying himself with.

"Sir Integra turned into 'bed', or rather her office, a while ago. Alucard retired to his chambers after spending some time down at the shooting range. He seemed quite miffed, if I do say so myself," Walter replied pleasantly. Seras was pleased to detect that he didn't mind her intrusion.

"Oh," she responded to his answer, while surveying the rather bland white room. Her eyes quickly drew to a small round metal card table, which held a fully loaded chess board. "What is a chess board doing out?" she asked, perplexed.

"We had the most unusual package delivered here today," Walter began, adjusting his monocle to better his view on what he was repairing. "It consisted of a vaguely written note and three red pawns, and there was no sender indicated on the package," he finished turning his eyes to her.

"Well, isn't that strange? What did the letter say?"

"Something about a 'tea party'," Walter answered, emphasizing "tea party". "The letter is over by the chess board if you wish to take a peek. It's quite alright if you do. We had already sent it downstairs to the lab for inspection, but to no avail."

Seras nodded politely and began over to the small card table. Her eyes quickly fell upon the three red pawns. They stood out quite visibly since they were the only red pieces on the board. Seras noticed the folded letter that was placed to the left of the game. She unfolded the paper and examined it. "You're right. It is rather vague. All of it really," she said softly to herself. After she had read the line a few more times; she carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the exact spot where it had been originally.

"Three pawns, huh?" she questioned aloud, leaning her back slightly on the flimsy card table.

"Odd, isn't it?" Walter responded, returning to his work.

"What do you suppose it means?" Seras asked, eyeing the three red pieces.

"I'm not sure if I can offer a valid solution based on those clues alone. Perhaps it has something to do with the old saying, 'bad things always come in threes,'" he shrugged.

"Umm, I think that makes good sense. What do the others think?"

"Sir Integra thinks it was referencing her recent loss of men, the fall of the manor, but she does not quite know what the third pawn would be representing. Alucard had suggested that the enemy might be planning to launch three consecutive attacks."

"Um, those are all good reasons. You think the pawns are in reference to an actual game of chess that they might be playing with the organization, and so far Hellsing has lost three pieces?"

"Very good suggestion, Miss Victoria. But, as of now, it is not safe to say, one way or the other."

Seras sighed. "Well, at least everything seems quite tonight," she offered, trying to sound cheerful despite the fact that her mind was still captivated by the oddity of the clues. Walter noticed her attempt at cheer and gave a small smile.

"How did training go?" he asked, following her lead and moving onto a lighter subject.

"Good, I suppose."

"No more missing the targets, and decimating the civilian stand-ups during practice?" Walter questioned wryly, lifting a brow as he glanced over at her from the corner of his eye.

Seras released a nervous chuckle as she placed a hand behind her head. "No, no. Nothing like that tonight," she answered with an anxious giggle. "Thank God," she added under her breath.

"How is Captain Bernadette?" he asked with a sly fatherly grin.

Seras flustered at the question. Her left brow twitched, and if possible it seemed that her deathly pale skin turned a faint shade of pink. "He's still alive," she forced as she applied a little more of her weight to the edge of the table. As soon as the words had escaped her mouth, the table tipped over scattering the chess pieces into the air, and leaving Seras sprawled out on the floor.

"Alive is preferable -" Walter began, but was quickly interrupted by the commotion of the table collapsing. Immediately, he sprung over to help her up. "Are you alright, Miss Victoria?" Walter asked, concerned as he offered her his hand.

"Yeah," she responded taking his assistance. "Oh gee, I hope no one was going to play," Seras said after returning to her feet. She turned to eye the mess that she had made.

"No. No one was planning on playing," Walter answered politely. The old butler kneeled and began to clean the mess. Seras, who was plagued with guilt, quickly bent down and helped Walter clean the area.

"Have you ever played chess, Miss Victoria?"

"A few times with my dad, but we mostly played cards."

"After this is all picked up, would you care to play cards?"

Seras gave a girlish grin and nodded. "Of course."

Perhaps, if she would have known what Walter was up to, Seras would have reconsidered the offer. Because, the rest of her night was spent playing cards with the merry band of Hellsing soldiers. While, Walter continued on with his endeavors of cleaning and preparing both Seras's and Alucard's weapons.

--

It was far too late at night to be up, but yet Integra could not find the solitude required for sleep. She imagined that it would not be too terribly long before the sun reclaimed her throne from the night, and yet, she found no veil of peace for comfort.

Integra sat on the side of the bed, still dressed in yesterday's wear, sans the jacket. She could not force her thoughts into submission, and she could not concentrate on any of the paperwork she would shove in front of her. Staring ahead, her eyes narrowed to the small black piano that sat positioned next to a wall facing the large glass balcony doors. Reluctantly, and sluggishly, she crossed the room over to the instrument.

She was not sure the cause of the idea that prompted her to sit in front of the piano, but nevertheless she found herself sitting there with her fingers positioned over the keys. Upon looking up to eye the piece of music on the stand, Integra could feel her body spring from its lethargic state.

Beethoven, she thought to herself as she began to softly play the instrument. She knew the song well and felt no need pause and check herself. Instead, she lost herself deep into her thoughts. With every frustrated fixation that plagued her, she would release her anxiety onto the piano. Integra was so bent on her own musings that she failed to notice her playing had progressively gotten louder and louder. The notes she was playing no longer resembled the sheet music, instead the music, itself, had grown into a monotonous clanging.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Alucard demanded with venom as he began to morph through a wall as a means to enter her chambers. He appeared aggravated; his eyes glaring upon her with discontent.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she spat with disdain. Integra looked up at him as if his comment was the stupidest thing that she had ever heard materialize into words.

"Proving that your skills, or lack thereof, on that thing can wake up the dead," he retorted.

She sharply narrowed her eyes to signify that she was, in no uncertain terms, most displeased. She found his criticism of her skill and the derogatory remark about the instrument not only offensive but disrespectful as well. "It is not a 'thing.' It is a piano," Integra growled, infuriated.

"No. In skilled hands it is a piano. In yours - it is a torture device," Alucard corrected with a biting air to his voice. "The lament to the night has now turned into something very much akin to the crashing sounds made during a vehicular homicide," he continued. "Crescendoing out of control – entirely forgetting about the diminuendos that enable the power to any climax. Instead, anything meaningful has been utterly lost in this interpretation. In other words, my guns exploding have a more appealing sound then your playing," he said forcing her to shift her position to the left as he took a seat beside her. Feeling as if she were but a mere schoolgirl due to his offensive criticism, Integra dropped her hands properly into her lap, heaved a heavy sigh, and stiffened her posture. He positioned his hands over the keys and began to play.

Her eyes followed the motions of his fingers in awe. The piano sang a somber and subtle song under his hands. She noted that he had experience with the piece, for he never faltered to glance up at the sheet music. Instead, his mind was on perfecting what she had made a monstrosity out of.

Integra turned her head slightly to the right as her gaze moved slowly upwards to look upon his face. She felt uneasy about being caught staring at him and encouraging his inane prattle, but what had been an attempt at stealing a glance drew her into the confines of perplexity. She was astonished to see his face displayed an expression of complete concentration. There was even a reflection of contentedness that softened his features in the dim lighting. She furrowed her brows at this rare sight and glanced back down at the piano. The piece was coming to an end, but much to her surprise he continued it from the beginning. This time he moved his left hand away from the keys and glanced over at her. His narrowed eyes sharply suggested that this was her last chance at redeeming her ability ever to play or even glance, for that matter, at the instrument.

Integra did not like the cold look painted on his face, and frowned at the imposition. Seeing as he refused to pause, she reluctantly positioned her fingers over the keys and quickly found the flow of the music. Feeling her heart skip a beat once she hit the first chord she found neither joy nor satisfaction in continuing. She resented the numbing sense of being critiqued on her skill as if she were a mere child, and she began stubbornly to question the madness behind her indulging him. After a few moments of reluctantly trying to pace herself, she could suddenly begin to feel the stiffened anxiety that had once plagued her slowly melt away. She had found a peaceful solitude within the music as her fingers gently rolled over the keys with steady confidence. The stress that had once consumed her thoughts had dissipated. Like the calm before the storm, her mind had cleared. Once the piece had drawn to its conclusion the two glanced over at each other. Alucard quickly revealed that his patented mischievous expression had already crept its way back upon his face.

"Very well, m'lady. At least you have ceased to find pleasure in creating a loud and monotonous butchery of the composition, so the dead can now again rest in peace," he said with a wry devious voice. "But, may I make one other suggestion?" he questioned quite smugly.

She rolled her eyes at the irritant that stood before her. "Why do you even bother to ask?" she endured with a strict 'get-to-the-point- quickly' inflection in her voice.

"Next time you wish to vent your anger out on a piece of music, please chose one of the less deserving pieces," he replied matter-of-factly as his eyes gleamed sadistically.

She returned his playful, yet annoying, exchange with a stern glare and a clenched jaw. He took this as his cue to leave and dissipated into a fine mist, which quickly scattered until the room was left with nothing more than an echo of a satisfied chuckle.

--

Early the next day, Integra was coming down the corridor having just finished her morning routine at the firing range. Having gotten only halfway down the hall, she spotted Walter walking briskly to meet her. She could tell by the look on his face that he had some valuable information to share.

"Sir Hellsing," he said finally breaking the tense silence, "another package has just arrived," he said, pausing just at arm's length away from her. "Follow me to the laboratories," he said anxiously. Integra's eyes grew alert as the two made the long trek down into the labs.

Walter had led her into a sealed room that was only furnished with a long metallic table and twelve metal chairs around it. The table was facing a two way mirror where one could stand and watch autopsies and examinations. On the long table sat a brown paper box, identical to the last one that they had received.

"This package came with the name of the sender," Walter said finally breaking the stillness that had consumed them during their walk to the labs. The two neared closer to the table.

"Who was it?" she asked stoically as she glanced into the parcel.

"Someone claiming to be the 'Mad Hatter'," he finished amused at the reference.

Integra looked upon the items apprehensively as Walter extracted one of the two objects. "This, Miss Hellsing, is a standard deck of playing cards, save for two oddities," Walter began.

"Go on," Integra urged.

"The back of the card, as you see," Walter said emptying the deck of cards into his hands, "have a coat of arms on them," he finished, flipping the back of the cards to face her.

"Whom do they belong to?"

"Oxford," he said suspiciously.

"As in the university?" Integra asked perplexed.

"Oddly enough, yes."

"What is the other oddity?" she asked, forcefully urging him to continue.

"Instead of a queen of hearts there is this," he said, handing her the card.

Integra quickly flipped it over to see that it bore no image, but rather writing. "'Meet on the Lawn for teatime. Bring the dormouse?'" she stated, questionly.

"Then there's this," Walter said extracting the second, and last item from the box. What he handed to Integra was a small silver pocket watch with a rabbit designed into the front. Integra examined the watch before opening it. To her astonishment the watch told the day instead of the time. The hand was filmily set on Saturday, even though the day was clearly Monday. Integra closed the watch, and flipped it over to examine the back of it.

"'M is for murder,'" she read aloud.

"I suppose when the hand hits the M then -"Walter didn't really feel the need to finish the sentence.

"A pocket watch that tells the day rather then the time?" Integra questioned, dumbfounded.

"Indeed, but the watch is two days behind," Walter noted.

"Why am I beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland?" Integra asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Because, Miss Hellsing, you are," Walter stated dryly.

"Walter."

"Yes, m'lady?"

"I need a cigar."