Chapter 3

The chapter in which Rosalie gets pissed

Five thick tree stumps have been hauled inside the circle of tiki torches on the beach. Jeff Probst sits on one of them facing the members of Tribe Esme, who sit clumped together on the other four stumps. Their chiseled, ivory faces look almost human as they reflect the warm glow of the torches.

Jeff leans forward expectantly with his palms pressed on the top of his knees and asks, "What happened out there today? You looked like you had an easy win and then it all slipped away right at the end."

"Yeah, it sucked, Jeff," Emmett says. "But who knew that chick was going to grow that freaky arm thing and steal it away from us?"

"So, I guess the lesson learned today was that you can't predict what's going to happen in this game," Jeff comments.

Emmett, Edward, Alice and Esme nod their heads sadly, and Esme's bottom lip begins to tremble.

"Esme, you look upset," Jeff comments and stares her down for an answer.

"Yes, of course, I'm upset," she answers meekly in a shaky voice. I feel like this is my fault because I kept arguing with Emmett on the puzzle and-"

"It took two of us to argue," Emmett cuts in. "And Edward told you – it was Jasper doing it to us."

"Thank you Emmett," Esme says sweetly, patting his hand. "But I'm the leader of this tribe, and I'm the mother here and now…now," her voice begins to falter before she sobs, "now I'm going to have to vote out one of my own children, and I'm going to have to do it again and again and again until this wretched game is over!" She completely breaks down and sobs into her hands.

Edward reaches out to stroke his mother on the back while he, Emmett and Alice exchange solemn glances. He searches their minds to find out that they are all in agreement - Esme, the soft-hearted, domestic goddess, is not cut out for this game. The most humane thing to do is to vote her out tonight before she must endure any more torture.

When Jeff reads the votes about fifteen minutes later, three cards say Esme and one says Emmett. When Esme looks at her son's name - written in her own handwriting - she dissolves into near hysterics and needs Edward to hold her up while Jeff snuffs out her torch and officially tells her that she's been voted off the island. She pulls it together before walking toward the boat that will take her away, and turns to her children, all three of whom are watching her with miserable, repentant faces, and says, "Make good choices, and drink plenty of blood each day. You don't want to get dehydrated."

* * *

Tribe Carlisle's elation at placing number one in the challenge is subdued by the knowledge that someone from their family is being voted out. They can't even bring themselves to speculate about who it might be as they drown their sorrows in a bag of blood while they sit around a small, beach fire that Carlisle constructed by rubbing two sticks together at lightning speed. They aren't only concerned about tonight's vote. They're also trying to digest the healthy dose of reality they'd been fed in witnessing the capabilities of the competition first hand.

"It's as I feared," Carlisle sighed. "Her powers may very well rival those of her master."

"Well, we still managed to beat them; don't forget that," Rosalie interjects.

"The others would have, too, if we hadn't…if we hadn't…oooh," Bella wails and throws her head down onto her crossed arms.

Carlisle reaches out a hand and strokes Bella's back soothingly. "We have to play this game to the best of our abilities, Bella. We didn't do anything wrong. Now, Rosalie's absolutely correct – our team did manage to win the challenge, and it's only going to take one of us to win that million dollars, so by keeping our tribe strong and playing to the best of our abilities, all the Cullens will prevail."

Jasper has been staring morosely into the fire and until now has remained silent. "What if one of us doesn't win?" he says darkly as he pokes the red embers with a long stick, shooting a flurry of flashing sparks into the air. He lets the others absorb what he's said and then looks straight at Carlisle with a somewhat defiant expression in his golden eyes. "It's a possibility," he says firmly. "I know we need to think positively, but today we saw that it's a distinct possibility that we will leave this thing empty handed. We've never made a plan B, Carlisle. What if we lose?"

"Ah yes, plan B," Carlisle says nonchalantly, but Jasper feels a rush of nervous energy pour off of him. When he continues speaking, it is with obvious trepidation. "I…I have actually given that some thought. Well, you know that I get a decent paycheck from the hospital…and although it's not enough to cover the expenses of eight adult vampires, it would seem…it would seem that the fact that are eight of us, that perhaps…perhaps it's in the realm of possibility that it's time for more than one paycheck to start coming in…" He leaves his statement hanging in the hopes that one of the others will pick it up.

Bella lifts her head from her arms and looks curiously at Carlisle. After studying him for a few confused moments, she says, "You would get a second job?"

Carlisle grits his teeth together, trying to keep his exasperation in check. For the last God knows how many decades he has been the sole supporter of this large and extravagant family while they pretend to be high school students and homemakers. Even when they were rolling in money because of their fortuitous investments, the situation had chaffed him. With the impeccable example he set – healing the sick every day of his life – he'd expected that at least some of fledglings would yearn to also become productive members of society.

To his great disappointment, this was not so. They seemed perfectly happy basking in their leisurely and self-indulgent lifestyle and didn't appear to have any intention of changing that. Ever. But now the situation was different – there was a real and imminent need for them to get out there and get an effing job. Carlisle had gone along with these crazy Survivor shenanigans in one last effort to preserve the existence to which they were all accustomed, but if this didn't work out, surely they understood that they needed to work. Surely they didn't need him to spell it all out for them.

But looking into the dim-witted eyes of his newest parasite, Carlisle saw that he was going to have to do just that. "I was thinking, that perhaps, one or five of you could, perhaps, seek employment," he said gently. "You'll find that it's remarkably fulfil--"

"Is that the big dipper?" Rosalie asks abruptly, pointing up into the sky.

"Yes, I believe it is," Bella chimes in eagerly, withdrawing all of her attention from Carlisle.

"You know, it's also known as Ursa Major, the Big Bear," Jasper adds helpfully.

"Really?" Rosalie coos as if that's the most interesting thing in the world.

The back of Carlisle's throat rumbles in a low, frustrated growl, but no one seems to hear him.

* * *

With the others spent from their efforts in the challenge and snoozing away - either snug in a coffin or curled in a hammock - Alucard is left with time to think. He lowers all seven feet to the sand and sits with bent knees. He digs the heels of his black boots into the sand while he rests his forearms on his knees and absently swirls his red hat in his hands. He's set the long, black tangles of his hair free to spill out over his shoulders and around his long, angular features. Through the thick tangle that covers one electric, red eye, he peers at the sea that he'll never be able to enter.

He thinks about Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. It has been a long time since the two have last seen each other. A lot has happened since then. It's quite obvious how much has changed when one looks at Carlisle, surrounded by his coven, his family, none of whom had even been so much as a spec of lust in their mortal fathers' eye at the time Carlisle and Alucard first met each other.

The passage of time isn't quite so apparent when one examines Alucard. Different butler, different Hellsing, but the same prison. Meanwhile, Carlisle has been free to acquire his own posse and build this thing he calls a life.

Ah, but Seras is new. Alucard allows himself a small grunt of satisfaction at this thought. But the flicker of satisfaction doesn't last long. What he and Seras have isn't anything close to what Carlisle has with his fledglings. Not even in the same universe.

True, Seras does seem to have some kind of strange childlike attachment to Alucard, but he's hardly a fatherly figure to her. No, he looks on Seras Victoria more as a possession, his lackey. And she isn't even really his. Like him, she belongs to Hellsing. What Carlisle has assembled is clearly more like a real family. A real human family.

"What an idiot," Alucard mutters bitterly to himself. He can't understand why anyone would want a human family. Within ten years of nuptials, most mortal spouses begin looking upon that 'till death do us part' clause with something like longing. Carlisle and his wife have no such escape – they're both already dead and still stuck with each other. Furthermore, the sole goal for mortal parents in raising their children is to teach them what they need to know, so they can one day…leave. From what Alucard understands, Carlisle's 'kids' don't appear to be going anywhere.

Still, there is something that intrigues Alucard about Carlisle's interactions with his fledglings. Alucard can see, can feel their complete devotion to their adopted father. They respect him. They adore him. And he doesn't ask for it, doesn't demand it. They give it freely. To command that type of respect from others without having to beat it out of them is a foreign, yet appealing concept to Alucard. He feels a twinge of yearning for that kind of passive command. The sensation pisses him off.

Well, at least he has Seras, and although her regard for him is based mainly on fear and idiocy, she'll do. She certainly proved her worth at the challenge today. "Besides, all the Cullen mammaries squished together couldn't begin to compete with hers," Alucard chuckles darkly. Then he stands up. He doesn't want to think about Carlisle and his damned family anymore.

* * *

Edward, Emmett and Alice arrive back at camp after a dejected walk from Tribal. They sling their backpacks off their shoulders and before Emmett's even hits the floor of the shelter, he says, "Well, I'm outta here. See you two losers in the morning."

"Don't get caught, Em," Edward warns. "It'll affect the whole tribe."

"Relax, bro. I got it under control."

Edward flicks his eyes to Alice to see if she has any flashes of Emmett getting caught quite literally with his pants down, but Emmett's bare bum is absent from Alice's mind. Thank God, Edward and Alice think at the same time.

Alice is fidgety after Emmett takes off. "So, I guess everyone will know what we did after Emmett tells Rose."

"Yeah," Edward says.

What's Carlisle going to think of us? Will he be mad? Alice asks in her mind as she sinks down to sit on the front porch swing.

"Not mad," Edward answers, sitting down next to her. "I mean, he won't be happy about it, but he will understand that it's just part of the game. It really was the kindest thing to do. Voting one of us out would've been torture to her."

Alice nods in somber agreement and pulls her legs up to the swing and rests her chin on her knees. After a few silent moments, she turns her head toward Edward and her next thoughts are a mere whisper. Do you think you could do it Edward? Do you think you could vote off Bella if it came down to it?

Edward fixes his gaze on a big rock just in front of the porch. He knows that the name of the game is deceit. Hold your cards close to your vest. But he also knows that it's important to align with someone you can trust. There's no one in the world that Edward trusts more than Alice. He'll tell her the truth.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the rock, he murmurs, "I won't write down her name."

Alice exhaled as if she'd been holding in the breath she didn't need while waiting for his answer. Her next words come pouring out of her mouth in a rush. "Iwon'tvoteforJaspereither! AndIknowhe'dnevervoteforme andyouknowBellawould nevervoteyouout and,Edward,I'llnevervoteforyoueither!"

Edward flashes his pearly whites at Alice and says, "Looks like we've got our final four."

Alice's delicate, pretty face lights up as she catches Edward's meaning. She giggles and sticks out her hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

* * *

Carlisle is now alone on his beach. After exhausting their constellation diversion, Jasper, Bella and Rosalie have taken off into the trees for a game of hide and seek. Bella is now 'it' and is searching for Rosalie. Carlisle knows she'll never find her, because he'd seen Rosalie surreptitiously sneaking beyond camp perimeters. She's no doubt taking off for a rendezvous with her amorous husband.

At the thought of a spousal reunion, Carlisle's heart aches. He knows Esme was the one voted out. He felt her leave. Carlisle is a three hundred year old vampire, and therefore, is just coming into his more mystical powers. These powers aren't anything as concrete as telling the future or reading minds; they're more subtle. The only way to explain it is that he occasionally senses things, such as the fact that three of his children just voted out his wife.

He leans back on his elbows and rests his bare feet in the sand and looks up at the giant, yellow moon. He knows that wherever Esme is right now, she's looking up at the same moon. He smiles. Then something entirely unexpected happens to Carlisle. He begins to feel the soft grains of sand pulsate against the soles of his feet. They are exfoliating and massaging just like Esme does for him at home. Wow, he thinks, those mystical powers have come a long way.

* * *

Before retiring to her hammock, Integra had specifically ordered Alucard not to set foot off the beach. He's frustrated. He's trying to get away from his own thoughts and simply wants to go for a long stroll in the forest. He walks to the very edge of the beach and lifts a foot, letting it hover over the forbidden forest floor.

"As you wish, Sir Integra, I will not set a foot off this beach," he murmurs aloud with a sneer.

The outline of Alucard grows fuzzy and his bright, ruby colors mute to a grey that fades until it's nothing more than a translucent vapor of mist. The mass of fog spreads out flat and begins to move into the trees and away from the beach.

* * *

"Ro-o-osie," Emmett call softly through the trees. He knows he's getting close. He's caught a flicker of her scent here and there, but her precise location eludes him.

Rosalie is higher in the trees, teasing her mate. She's letting him catch her scent and then retreating back and higher into the trees only to let him catch another whiff from a totally different direction. She knows that every elusive whiff whets his appetite for her even more, and a hungry Emmett is an exceptionally virile Emmett.

She decides that he's had enough of the cat and mouse and drops to the ground about ten feet directly behind him. The noise she makes is barely louder than that of a leaf drifting down to the forest floor, but Emmett is now keenly aware of her presence and turns toward her.

Before he can lunge at his wife and get down to business, she commands, "Stop." He holds himself steady and tilts his head, squinting his eyes questioningly. "Take your shirt off," Rosalie says sternly, but with a coy smile playing at the corners of her glossy, pink lips.

Emmett's sensuous mouth spreads into an evil grin and he says, "You want a striptease?"

"That's right, big boy," Rosalie drawls in a rich, smooth voice that drips over Emmett like hot, scented oil.

Emmett touches the bottom of his muscle tee and pulls it seductively over his ripped abs while his wife lustily watches him. They've played this game before, and even though it will delay the actual act, Emmett knows that the increased desire with each article removed will make the wait well worth it. He lifts the shirt up over his head and gives his wife a sultry look. A cool mist creeps into the space between them, flowing around the trunks of the trees on this otherwise clear night.

Cool, Emmett thinks, deciding that the surreal quality of the of the mist will up the erotica quotient. His brain is already feeling different; he's suddenly a little light headed, probably because of his impending ecstasy. He shakes off the fuzzy-headedness. It's his turn.

"Take off your pants," he says huskily through the haze.

Rosalie slips down the flannel pajama bottoms that she'd been wearing over her bikini, leaving only a thin patch of pink to cover Emmett's most prized possession. Something flutters in Emmett's brain and he does a double take as he reflects that Rosalie really should have gotten a bikini wax before coming to Vampire Island. He gives his head a shake – that doesn't make any sense. Rosalie's personal grooming has never been anything but impeccable. Vampire bodies don't change. Things don't grow.

Rosalie doesn't understand why her husband is looking at her funny. She also doesn't understand why the fog stays hovering between them instead of moving on, or why her head feels strange, as if teeny tiny pinprick probes are feeling around in there. She lets her gaze trail down to Emmett's exposed chest and abs, counting on the sight of her husband's super hot physique to snap her out of it.

She draws her tongue tantalizingly over her top lip as she examines the V of his hip muscle that peeks out over the band of his low-riding basketball shorts. The fog between them seems to quiver and the view suddenly becomes less appealing. She notices a pudge of flesh bulging out over either side of Emmett's shorts; she can't even find any definition that hip muscle anymore, or any muscle for that matter. Emmett looks downright doughy. This isn't right.

She lifts her eyes, intending to look him in the eye and question him, but she doesn't make it that far because of the shocking sight that hits her on the way up. Emmett's sculpted pecks are still as bulky as ever, but they look softer and they're…drooping. Rosalie shudders.

"Come on, babe," Emmett says, "It's your turn."

Rosalie knows that what she's seeing can't be real, but until she gets her brain straightened out, she doesn't have an appetite to look at any more of Emmett's saggy flesh. She knows that she can't explain it to him right now - he'll think she's a lunatic. No, she just needs to buy herself more time and then she'll come back to her senses. "Uh, tell you what. I'll give you a freebie – take another turn."

"Really?" Emmett says. Normally, he would have gone straight for the snatch, but right now he'd rather get his attention off of that particular area of her anatomy. "Take off your buff," he says.

Rosalie winks and smiles flirtatiously at him, trying to get herself back in the mood. She seductively rolls the buff up, over her revealing bikini top and lifts it over her head. Emmett's eager eyes go right for her alabaster cleavage, but he's surprised by the thick, blonde, wiry tuft that peeks out from between his wife's porcelain breasts.

He feels bile rush into the back of his throat and throws his hand to his mouth to contain the dry heave that he can't seem to stop in time. Rosalie jerks her head back and gasps, utterly insulted. She looks down at herself and sees nothing to cause that reaction, just smooth, beautiful, taught flesh, which is more than she can say for man-boobs over there.

Emmett can see by the fiery look that his wife levels at him that there's no way he can explain his little problem to her. Nope, he's going to have to tough it out, close his eyes and try to block the repulsive image of his Rosalie gone ape-girl. But as much as his mind wants to cooperate, his little friend in his pants wants no part of it. It's so far gone that it's practically retreated all the way back to camp without him. The temperamental and vain Rosalie would never recover from failing to arouse the ever-ready Emmett. He's got to get out of this whole situation. Fast.

"You know babe, Edward kind of made a lot of sense back at camp. We're putting both our tribes at risk meeting like this. Maybe we should just wait till the merge."

"Yes, Edward is usually right," Rosalie responds. If Emmett wasn't so relieved, he would've been completely confused by Rosalie's eagerness to agree with anything Edward said. A suspicious shadow appears over her top lip that seems to indicate that she's begun sprouting a mustache.

"Okay, then," Emmett says, trying not to look directly at her without being obvious about it. "See ya at the challenge tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Rosalie says a little too quickly, already backing away into the forest. "Good night."

"Good night," Emmett calls and sprints away.

The moment those two are gone, the mist moves on at a happy clip. Yup, that fog is having itself a good old time.

* * *

"You are NOT going to actually combust into a million little pieces, Emmett!" Alice retorts angrily as Tribe Esme makes its way to the challenge sans Esme. When he'd arrived back at camp last night, he'd been too freaked out to even try to block his memory of the Bride of Sasquatch from Edward, who immediately busted out laughing and then described everything in full detail to Alice as soon as he could speak steadily again.

They all agreed that it must have been some trick of the lighting in the forest and the fog, but it still disturbed Emmett. As the night wore on, however, the familiar vision of his sweet, sweet, hairless Rosalie returned to him, and by the time day broke, his hormones were raging worse than ever. He's driving Alice and Edward crazy.

"You don't understand. I have always had Rosalie around ever since I became a vampire. We've done it every day since I overcame my frenetic bloodlust of a newborn," Emmett complains.

"Not when we've been on an overnight guys hunting trip," Edward points out.

"Yeah, but then we had mountain goats and other animals around," Emmett responds.

Alice gasps and shoots a disgusted look at Emmett.

"Not like that!" he shouts defensively. "I meant hunting – the chase, the kill - that distracted me. But here, all we have to do is pop open one of those bags of blood and we're all set. I've got no outlet."

They arrive at the large clearing where today's challenge will take place. Tribe Hellsing is already waiting and Tribe Carlisle steps into the space a few seconds later. It's a bright but overcast day, so there's no sparkling going on. Also, the Hellsing vampires will be able to operate at nearly full power without the sunlight beating directly on them. Emmett and Rosalie cautiously eyeball each other and both audibly sigh in relief when they see that the other has fully recovered their customary hotness.

"Welcome back, Survivors," Jeff begins. "As you can see, Esme was voted out last night, leaving her tribe with only three members. So Carlisle and Hellsing, you'll be sitting someone out today. You're going to be playing a game of three-man Chicken Ball. We have three soccer-type goals set up at three points on the outside of the playing area. Each team needs to select one goal keeper to guard their goal. The other two will pair up with one member sitting on the other's shoulders. You'll work as one unit to get the ball across the field and into one of your opponents' goals.

"Wanna know what you're playing for?" Jeff asks and they all nod.

"In this first round, all three teams will be playing at once with two balls. First team to score wins first immunity and this," he says, holding up a small, grayish, rock-looking thing. "Flint, which means fire. The remaining two teams will then square off with one ball and the first one to score wins second immunity. I'll give you a few minutes to strategize, and then we'll get started."

The teams huddle together and it's fairly quickly decided that Bella and Walter will be sitting this game out. Alucard, Alice and Rosalie each station themselves at a goal, leaving Jasper to climb onto Carlisle's shoulders, Emmett to sit on Edward's, and Seras on top of Integra.

Jeff stands in the middle of the field holding two volleyballs with the two-man teams standing around him. "Survivors ready?" he asks. "Go!" and he throws the two balls straight up in the air.

Jasper is quick to swipe one of the balls with his long, agile fingers and Carlisle takes off with him immediately to the Hellsing goal. Jasper whips the ball toward the net, but Alucard easily blocks it, lazily sticking his long arm out as if only half aware that he's even playing a game.

"And Carlisle catches the rebound, wasting not time zipping it right back toward the net," Probst announces.

But Alucard nonchalantly blocks the ball with his big toe.

Meanwhile, Seras and Emmett scuffle with the ball. Both of them have a grip on it, and neither one of them is relenting. Integra and Edward are underneath, struggling to keep their balance. It's a tougher struggle for the human and she looks up at the battle above with concern. She knows that she can't hold out for much longer. Integra is deciding on the best way to advise Seras, when a small button drops onto her face. In the struggle, Seras' top button has popped off. The Cullen boy falters for a quick second, distracted by this new development. Integra seizes the opportunity.

"Seras," she says in her most commanding voice. "I think it's time to make use of your largest assets."

"Sir?" Seras says uncertainly as she again tries to yank the ball loose from Emmett's grip.

"Miss Victoria, I order you to motorboat him."

"But sir…I…"

"That's an order, servant," Integra demands.

"Oooh," Seras whimpers. Then she bites her lip, clamps her eyes shut and releases the ball to clutch the back of Emmett's head and pull his face into the depths of her sumptuous cleavage. He sinks in past his ears and all that can be seen of Emmett's head are the tufts of his fuzzy black hair as they poke out between Seras' fingers.

"Interesting strategy by Hellsing," Probst comments.

Emmett thrashes his head back and forth in Seras' bosom, fighting to be free. His panicked struggling gradually slows to more of a frantic suckling, and just when Seras begins to think that maybe this isn't so bad, after all, Integra shouts another order.

"Release him; I've got his ball!"

Seras yanks Emmett out by his hair and Integra takes off immediately toward to goal that Rosalie is protecting. Emmett wobbles precariously on Edward's shoulders. He is stunned. There's no other word for it. To be unexpectedly thrust into the Garden of Eden of all fantasies after what feels to him like an eternity of abstinence, his brain cannot compute, and he is stunned. He stares blankly forward into nothingness with his mouth gone slack.

Rosalie is on fire as the double-decker Hellsing women arrive at her goal. Integra grabs the ball and searches for an opening, but Rosalie hisses and snarls, defending the goal with cat-like reflexes that are sure to block any attempt Integra considers making.

"Edward having trouble making progress toward the goal," Jeff explains. He's too busy adjusting his stance to balance out an increasingly unstable Emmett." Emmett teeters back and forth on Edward's shoulders, still shell shocked, and the instability of his bulk becomes too much. Emmett topples off of his brother with a thunderous boom as he slams to the ground flat on his back.

"And Emmett's down!" Jeff exclaims.

Everyone pauses to look, but Rosalie hesitates for an extra moment as she hisses through gritted teeth, "I'm gonna kill you, Emmett."

Integra uses the hesitation to sneak the ball into the goal.

"Hellsing scores!" Jeff shouts enthusiastically.

Rosalie clenches her fists and lets loose a furious screech, causing Integra to stumble backwards a few steps before lowering Seras to the ground. The Hellsing girls run over to Walter to celebrate. Alucard saunters past Jeff, snatches the flint and drawls a compliment to his team as he approaches, "Titillating performance, ladies."

Jeff continues, "Okay, we're going Cullen versus Cullen in the final round. Emmett, you okay?" he asks with genuine concern, although he seems to be holding back a laugh.

The fall seems to have knocked Emmett back to life and he nods to Jeff while apprehensively glancing at Rosalie through the corner of his eye.

Jasper stays on Carlisle's shoulders, but Edward and Emmett switch places with Edward now on top. Alice and Rosalie stay at the goals. Jeff tosses up the ball and scrappy Jasper whisks it away from Edward's hands.

"Jasper and Carlisle making their way to Alice. Edward sneeks up behind and grabs him around the waist. Looks like he's trying to pull Jasper off balance. Oh! And Japser throws a sharp elbow into Edward's jaw, knocking him back. Carlisle's again not wasting any time getting to that goal."

Alice perks up as the action finally comes her way. She narrows her long, dark lashes over her shining eyes at her mate Jasper, daring him to do it. He gives her a playful wink and zings the ball into the upper right corner. The petite vampiress jumps up and bats the ball away, toward Edward and Emmett.

"And low man Emmett grabs the ball, but Carlisle and Jasper are going to fight him for it," Jeff says.

Both vampiric totem poles race toward Rosalie with Edward and Emmett slightly ahead. Emmett surreptitiously sticks his foot off to the side. Carlisle swerves to avoid it at the last split second, but it's too late. This all happens in a blur to the human eye. But Emmett's move slows Carlisle enough for Jeff to see what's going on.

"Carlisle is stumbling. He's trying to recover, but Jasper's downward momentum is too much. Whoa! Jasper and Carlisle go down, giving Edward and Emmett a clear shot."

They race to Rosalie's goal. Emmett still has the ball.

"Like hell you're scoring on me," Rosalie snarls at him.

"C'mon, babe," Emmett says meekly, holding the ball passively in his hands. It seems even he knows better than to try to score at the moment. "You know that I think more than a mouthful is a waste."

"Well, it certainly looked like you had more than a mouthful," Rosalie spits. She's glaring at Emmett and folds her arms in an obstinate gesture.

Emmett only splutters and seems to have completely forgotten that he's playing a game. Frustrated, Edward kicks the ball out of Emmett's hand, catches it, and plops it easily into the goal.

"Yay, Edward!" Bella jumps up and squeals before Jeff has even called the game.

Rosalie sends a flock of birds fleeing for their lives with her low wail that grows into a piercing shriek. She won't even look at Emmett anymore and refocuses her fury on Bella.

"You are on MY team, you fucking IDIOT!!!" she screams and rips a bar off of the goal and begins slashing wildly all around her. Emmett thinks better of trying to talk down his sweetie pie and instead watches her smash and destroy the goal as he slowly backs away.

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Gah! How do these chapters keep getting so long? I swear to you, I had no idea that I was this interesting.

Thank you SystemAurora for setting me straight on the size of Integra's bust line and for sending me a picture to prove it. I have removed all errant references to Integra's flatness from chapter 2. The leader of the Hellsing Organization is seriously pushing a D-cup, and I must say she wears them well, especially the way her long, silky hair cascades all around them…oh, but we're totally straight, right Aurora? Totally…straight…

Before we get too far along, I also want to make sure to thank fanfiction author extraordinaire, Master of the Boot, for being my chief Hellsing advisor. If I were Batman, he would be my Alfred. Thanks, Booty.

Well, tomorrow a.m. I'm off to Jacksonville, FL for a week, so if you don't read this until after I'm gone, please don't think I'm rude if you don't get a response to your review right away. I'll be all over it once I get back, and I would like nothing better than to return home to a mailbox full of reviews from y'all! Okay, look for the next update in about two weeks. Until then, please watch for suspicious activity around my house and don't forget to feed the bunny!

Air hugs to you all,

-LiLa