Seras had no idea how to react. She froze, her lips parting slightly as she gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. Her dæmon was as startled by the sudden, bold gesture as she was, and it was quivering delicately in her mind, uncertain of how to act or feel. She swallowed, finding it hard to do with your mouth half open.

It wasn't an extremely passionate kiss—hell, the chaste peck Pip had gotten out of her was more lust-fueled than this! He was just…there, pressing his lips against hers hard, but otherwise staying perfectly still. Was he gaging how she would react? How should she react? Should she rear back and slap the shit out of him for pressing himself on her? Should she push him away and run screaming from the room? Should she kiss him back?

She drew a blank and turned the question to her baffled dæmon. It didn't seem to have any idea what to do either, so she was on her own. Finally she kissed him back tentatively, her hand coming up of its own accord to brush his bangs off her nose. Her fingers ghosted over his cheeks, feeling the hard bone. His skin, cool to the touch, but not hot like a human's. It had the hint of warmth, of kinetic energy moving it, but at the same time no blood raced through his body.

She pulled away after a brief moment, gently pushing his face back until there was a safe amount of space between them. She looked at him, her cheeks growing hot as she realized what she'd just been doing. She'd just let Alucard kiss her! What do I do now?

The logical thing to do would be to ask him why the hell he just did that, her dæmon finally answered, seeming to come back to its senses. His eyes were closed, a neutral frown on his face.

"W-why did you kiss me?" she asked, feeling a hard knot in her throat. She swallowed again, her tongue darting out over her lips.

"I didn't." His voice had lost that tender quality, and Seras felt a shudder run down her spine. Alucard was back, and he didn't sound happy. She felt the dæmon creep closer to her, watching the ancient vampire warily. He rubbed the back of his arm over his lips as if to wipe the memory of her mouth away entirely. He opened his eyes and glared icily at her.

"A-Alucard," she gulped, eyeing the door again. "Ah, um, you…." What was she supposed to say!? If she mentioned his dæmon, he would be angry for her bringing up the fact that he couldn't control his own body. And she wouldn't do that anyway; she didn't feel comfortable talking about the creature—etiquette prevented that. But she felt that it wouldn't do her much better to just get up and leave. Even if he would let her go, there's no telling what would happen later on.

"Get out." The command was so quiet that she nearly missed it. She stared openmouthed at him for a moment, trying to decide if she should obey him or not. I say not, her dæmon offered helpfully. Just kiss him again if he tries to force you to leave, it added cheerfully.

I didn't kiss him; his dæmon kissed me. I shouldn't have even been talking to his dæmon. That wasn't right, she proclaimed with a miserable, heart-sinking feeling. Even if his dæmon had initiated conversation, she should have found an excuse to keep from speaking to it. Then again, she'd only said five or so words to the creature that had spontaneously taken over its host's body. But the more she thought about it, the more unnerved she became.

"But—"

"GET OUT OF HERE!" he roared, and she tensed as the loud voice echoed around the basement and made her ears ring.

"FINE!" she shouted back, her confusion giving way to anger. He didn't have to yell at her like that; it was all his fault, anyway! If he hadn't have made such a fuss at the party, nothing would have happened! "I should leave, before you really decide to kill me this time!" she stood, snarling angrily at him as her dæmon became an arrogant feline form and stalked to the door with its tail in the air.

"You walk a thin line, Police Girl," he warned, voice dark with violence. "I'll only allow you so much; you will talk to me with respect."

"I'm giving you all the respect you deserve," she retorted coldly. She turned and walked away, sashaying her hips as her dæmon growled in her mind.

"Don't think this is over," he added.

"Oh, just go to Hell!" she snapped, turning at the door. "And… don't come back!" she slammed the door, the sound nearly busting her eardrums in the narrow corridor. She ran back to her room, slamming that door shut too before collapsing on her mattress and screaming into the pillow.

"That man has some control issues," her dæmon announced from its designated spot in the mirror. "And you could have asked me for a better comeback line, you know. "And don't come back"? That was weak." It paused, but Seras didn't even look up from her pillow. "Maybe something like "Send the Devil my regards"… no, that doesn't sound quite right either."

"Don't you ever shut up?" Seras moaned, and it regarded her with astonishment.

"Are you crying?!" it squeaked incredulously. "Whatever's the matter now?" Seras looked up at that, twin trails of crimson streaking down her cheeks and making her look like she had cheap Halloween makeup smeared across her face. The dæmon tutted sympathetically. "Come now, girly. It's not so bad. He tried to kill you; so what? He didn't go through with it, you know."

"Why can't he just say if he likes me, or if he hates me? Why can't he make up his damn mind!" she shouted the last words, clearly banking on him hearing them even from his bedchambers far down the hallway.

"Because his mind is split down the middle," it replied matter-of-factly. "He's in denial, really. Poor thing, poor thing," it sighed with a wry smile, looking as if saying the words brought to mind an old joke.

"Well he needs to hurry up. Tomorrow night, I plan on ending this idiotic pissing match once and for all." The dæmon laughed harshly.

"Believe me, the pissing match has barely begun," it promised her. "Tomorrow, those vampires will fight to the death over you. Alucard wasn't lying when he promised to rip apart every male that tries to take you. It's a testosterone-fueled madhouse for a bit….well," it added as an afterthought, "it would have been, if he hadn't scared so many suitors away."

"Suitors!" Seras sat up, wiping her face. "They'll think Alucard killed me or something!" The dæmon grinned and became shadows, slipping over the stone floor to the door.

I will let their dæmons know you are alive and unharmed. Shall we meet them by that tree again tomorrow? Seras nodded and it slid beneath the crack in the door and was gone. She curled up on the bed, wiping the trails of tears off her cheeks and closing her eyes, melancholy blossoming in her dreams as she dropped off to sleep.

"Damn you!" The mirror was split, the gloved hand cut by shards of glass that shattered everywhere. The dæmon looked at him through the cracks, its face on every shard lying scattered across the bathroom floor.

"Calm yourself, for God's sake! I had to do something; you were about to kill her!" it shouted back, becoming uncharacteristically angry in return. Alucard's boot slammed onto the nearest shard and it crunched with a sound that was all too satisfying.

"Enough." It's voice was not more than a mutter, but it was echoed by every reflection until it thundered, and the dark intensity that showed in the dæmon's eyes was enough to make Alucard stop in his tracks. "I said…calm down." The dæmon took a deep breath, the many reflections' chests expanding in perfect sync with one another.

"You've ruined me," Alucard finally spoke, staring at his cracked reflection in the shards left on the wall. "You've completely ruined me."

"You ruined yourself, tâmpit," it replied insensitively. "Honestly, you can't go losing your temper over everything that girl says."

"It's not what she said, it's what you said, after you hijacked my body like some sort of disgusting parasite." The dæmon aahed.

"Now we get to the root of the problem. You're disgusted with yourself." Alucard snarled ferociously and turned on his heel, slamming the bathroom door shut and throwing himself into his chair, a glass of wine appearing in his hand.

Don't deny it; you just said it yourself, the dæmon continued, slithering lazily along the wall as a long, sinuous ferret. Tell me, why are you disgusted at me? it asked, curious.

"The way you treated her," he hissed, and he heard her yell out distinctively "his damn mind!" Was she also arguing with her dæmon? What could they possibly being arguing about? "Gentling her, kissing her… you even called her "darling"," he growled, his nose wrinkling in repulsion.

You called her "dear" before. If I remember correctly, it purred haughtily, you also called her darling before, to that traitor Walter C. Dornez. Would you really talk behind her back, and not say the same things to her face? Shame on you, Vampire King! it chided, blatantly mocking the way van Helsing used to speak to him, back when the old codger was alive.

"How dare you," Alucard grumbled, but the bite wasn't in his words. He drank the entire glass of wine in a few gulps and sat it down before glaring sullenly at the wall. The dæmon was quiet, being far better to its host than the latter was in return. The room became dark and gloomy as the lone king called shadows to his throne, stewing in anger.

Her dæmon has gone to alert the others that she still lives, his dæmon informed him curtly. Also, to say that "her plan" is continuing tomorrow night. Shall we go through with it, or not? It was leaving the choice to him, although it was clear from the dæmon's actions which direction it would like to take things.

"Will she even still want me there, is a better question," he replied vaguely. His dæmon laughed gently, shadows rubbing over his legs and curling up around his shoulders in a soothing fashion.

Pouting, are we? Or have you become dejected by now? It teased, before purring softly until Alucard's shoulders relaxed and he slumped slightly in the chair, a hand rubbing his chin. He sighed heavily, rubbing the same hand over his tired eyes.

"Why did I even create her?" he asked his dæmon quietly, shaking his head.

Why indeed, the dæmon replied affably, a smile in its voice. I believe that once, you summed it up as whimsy. Another time, you said that it was a reward for her courage. But we both know the real answer, don't we?

"I don't know." He suddenly felt exhausted. He could crawl into his coffin and sleep for a millennia. His dæmon had fought against him, and the struggle of fighting himself had wearied him. He had shouted at Seras, and now she was angry at him. She might not want to see him for a long time. He had no way of knowing, however; she was the only person he had never been able to completely figure out.

You do know, his dæmon argued quietly. But no more about it now, you poor, jaded prince. You leave this to me. I will fix it; you are too weary to do much more to-night.

"Your last "fix" only made things worse," Alucard protested with a scowl. The dæmon huffed.

She kissed me back. She enjoyed it. It paused again, and then the shadows weighed heavily on his shoulders as if the dæmon were physically pushing him back into the chair. No more arguments tonight. I will not do anything more to Seras, if that is your wish. Tomorrow, I shall tell you how to fix this.

He obeyed with a sigh, closing his eyes and staying quiet. His dæmon hummed to itself, becoming a wolf and padding quietly to lie by the door, ready to alert him if someone should begin to walk down the hallway. It kept whatever thoughts it had to itself, and Alucard soon dozed off.

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Seras whispered, surprised that the words left her mouth at all, as dry as it was. She stood at the end of the long hallway leading to Alucard's chambers, biting her lip, her hands fisted at her sides. "I don't think he'll be happy to see me," she added unnecessarily. Her dæmon arched its cat form, shifting among the natural shadows that played on the masonry. The light flickered overhead as the dæmon passed, its concentrated dark powers sucking the electricity out of the bulb.

You will be fine, it promised. We should have stayed last night, but this may be better. A day's rest gave you a chance to recharge, and cool off. Him as well.

"Yeah, but—" she gulped, eying the dark hallway like she expected something to jump out at her any moment.

Come now, the dæmon chided. There's no time to waste. You're not a coward; don't let a centuries-old, half-mad vampire king frighten you, it teased lightheartedly. He's only an undead monster; surely that's not scary.

"Oh, just shut up," Seras hissed, obediently starting towards the closed door at the other end of the hall. She kept her hand on the wall as she made her way through the dark. It wasn't to help her gain her bearings; she was drawing strength from the shadow keeping pace beside her on the rough stone.

Down the hall they went. The dark, damp air pressed down on her, and Seras drew closer to the wall as they approached the door. She stopped before it, looking at the impressive wooden structure that was so unlike the other doors in the basement, or even in Hellsing manor in general. It was a testament to time, and looked more like an old castle door than a door in someone's home.

Will you knock? The dæmon was pacing in anticipation, and the minute she knocked softly on the door it scrambled to the floor, hiding beneath her boots. She scowled down at it.

"Who's the coward now?" she whispered fiercely, lifting one boot to glare at the quivering mass. The dæmon chuckled and she felt a strange sense of bashfulness coming from the creature's mind.

I am anxious; I confess it. Should there be a fight now, in this dungeon… It let out a strangled mewl of fear. I have doubts in my ability to protect you. Seras sighed and knocked again, only a little louder, before kneeling on one knee to speak in a hushed tone.

"You don't have to worry. I can call for Sir Integra; she'll stop things before he goes too far." The dæmon sniffed and she felt that it was offended by her words, somehow. "What?"

I am your protector, not a weak human. You shouldn't have to worry about being near Sir Integra for your safety. Seras rolled her eyes, and poised to knock again before hesitating.

"Is he even in there? Usually, it doesn't take this long for him to answer the door," she stated, voice pensive. She bit her finger absently and the dæmon paused only a moment before slinking from beneath her boots. It disappeared under the gap between the door and the floor, appearing again as an otter swimming across the mismatched stones not a minute later.

He sleeps, it declared, and Seras frowned and stood.

"We ought leave him alone, if he's still asleep," she sighed. The dæmon crept along the stone beside the gap mischievously.

Or we could go inside and wake him up, it offered. Seras didn't answer and turned to leave, but looked back over her shoulder at the door. Beyond it there was silence, not even a snore. She licked her lips and turned back, swaying on her heels as she considered the dæmon's words.

"We shouldn't," she protested, but her eyes grew wider and she inched towards the door. Her boots made no sound on the stone, she stepped so carefully.

We really shouldn't, her dæmon repeated delightedly. She placed one hand on the door, pushing at it. She twisted the knob, but it seemed locked. She looked at her dæmon.

"We'd be very angry, if it were the other way around." The dæmon took the form of a chipmunk and scampered up the door and into the lock, and a moment later Seras heard the click of tumblers.

We'd be furious. A complete breach of privacy, the dæmon agreed jovially. It slid up her sleeve and around her body. Seras felt utterly protected as the warm shadow enveloped her like a glove; like a moving, living suit of armor. The dæmon purred happily at the thought, elated at its host's comfort. Seras tried the door again, and this time it opened easily.

"I can still turn back," Seras muttered even as she opened the door just enough to slip into the room. She held her breath and looked around, a hand over her mouth to silence any accidental noise.

Too late now, the dæmon disagreed, tightening around Seras' waist and peering beneath the hem of her uniform top. A shadowy wolf was by the door. It had no eyes, of course, but Seras could see that it must have been Alucard's dæmon. Some guard dog, her own dæmon laughed.

Seras was about to argue, but she shook her head and instead took a step closer to the nearly intangible shape. The wolf seemed asleep, head resting on its paws, tail completely still, but Seras felt a tremor run up her spine. She looked over at Alucard, who was slumped in his chair, his head held in one hand.

"Something's not right."

Wake up, you. Alucard was instantly awake, his eyes opening the minute his dæmon sounded the alarm. No! Don't move, it added when he made a move to get up. Seras comes. Let's play pretend.

"Why?" he asked, barely breathing. The dæmon rested its head on its paws and its tail thumped once before stilling.

It will be fun if we startled her. But, if we pretend to be asleep, she might go away. I haven't had time to plot fully. I need more time, if our plan is to be enacted successfully.

"And what plan is that?" he muttered, but before he could get an answer, he heard a soft rapping on the door. He summoned his power and found to his satisfaction that the door was locked. Surely, if he did not answer, she would leave. "The door is locked," he noted, and the dæmon looked at him with a nod of its shaggy head.

Alright. Keep quiet, and we'll see how this unfolds. It lay its head once again on its paws, watching the door. The knock came again, a little louder, and he stayed perfectly still. Then—Quick! Shut your eyes! He obeyed, centuries of self-preservation kicking in. When his dæmon ordered him like that, voice tense, he followed its commands. It usually meant the difference between life and death.

For a long moment, he waited for his dæmon to tell him what was going on. Then, he heard Seras whispering lowly. He leaned forward slightly, trying to hear what was she was saying, and then to his surprise the lock on the door clicked and he heard the hinges squeak slightly as the door was pushed open.

Bold, isn't she? his dæmon remarked amusedly. Entering your room like she owns the place. He peered beneath his lashes at the room. Seras inched through the door and clapped a hand over her mouth, peering at his dæmon. It was still a motionless shadow, but his powers had given it a 3D form and it lay against the wall, but not on its surface.

Now that the door was not between them, he heard her more clearly say to her dæmon, "Something's not right." She was looking at him now, but he didn't dare shut his eyes lest she see the movement. He barely had his eyes open anyhow, and his hair was hanging in his face, keeping her from seeing his full expression.

Shadows slid from her clothing and amassed on the ground before rising on the wall as a she-wolf. It crept closer to his dæmon, sniffing cautiously before its ears went back, and then forward. It turned back to face Seras and the girl's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Well, if you're sure," she answered the dæmon's unheard words, before walking almost silently to the throne. She leaned down over him, and it took all he had not to shout and scare her silly. It would be amusing, for sure, but he didn't move now. Something stopped him, whether it was his dæmon's will or his own.

"Alucard?" she half-whispered. She reached out to touch him, but seemed to think better of it at the last moment. "Are you awake?" She squinted, and then muffled a cough into her hand before scowling at the she-wolf. "No, I'm not going to poke him. Are you mental?" She paused. "It would not be funny. Now quit horsing around."

He watched her face, astonished as she carefully reached out and brushed his bangs back from his face. He nearly grinned at the thought of grabbing her hand and making her scream. Quit horsing around, his dæmon repeated Seras' words, its voice squashed by the fact that its lower jaw was still firmly on its paws.

"You're right, he is…" she murmured, tilting her head and gazing at him solemnly. She shook her head as the dæmon rippled across the floor and back beneath her clothes. "No, I'm not going to. He looks so peaceful right now."

He couldn't hold it in anymore. When she leaned in again, he opened his eyes as wide as he could. It had the desired effect; she screamed and scrambled backwards, falling on the stone floor and scooting back another few paces, her legs working overtime. He straightened up and his dæmon trotted over to him, laughing uproariously the entire time in his mind.

"Police Girl," he sighed, wincing at the drained sound of his own voice. It made him sound old and sad, like a human. He tried to inject some roughness into his next sentence. "What do you want now?"

"I—er…" She was still in shock, her mouth hanging open. Her dæmon was hidden beneath her clothes in its most protective state. She blinked a few times and then stood on wobbly legs. "I just wanted to see if you were feeling better," she said blankly, shrugging at him.

"I cannot feel better," he sniffed. "I was never worse to begin with. I've always been the same." She frowned, her lips pursing and going off to the side. She suddenly looked like a carpenter, and he was her particularly uncooperative piece of wood.

"Fine," she said ultimately, shaking her head. "I'm not going to stand here and argue with you tonight." She looked at him again before turning to leave. "See ya," she called over her shoulder.

Call her back, call her back! his dæmon snarled, pushing against his legs with its muzzle. He was going to argue, but before he realized what he was doing he'd half-risen, his hand held out to her.

"Police Girl!" She stopped, looking back at him patiently. What now? He hadn't meant to obey the dæmon, but it was already done before he'd known what was going on. He looked down at his traitorous body, and his dæmon slithered up his back before dispersing and settling into his mind. No tricks this time, he warned it. I won't have you mutinying again, dæmon.

Yes sir, the dæmon simpered mockingly. I won't, as long as you behave. Now listen to me, and say this as I say it. If you want that girl, that is.

"What?" she snapped, her patience waning more quickly than usual. She was still angry about last night, it seemed. As if it were his fault, and not her own for choosing to gallivant with all those men in front of everyone, when they knew who she was. It was completely and utterly reprehensible —she could choose stronger suitors than that.

"Last night…."he paused, growling at the words his dæmon poured into his mind. I will not say that.

Then rephrase it as you will, but don't blame me when you get attacked by an angry policewoman, his dæmon replied snarkily. He shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"What about last night?" She faced him fully now, her arms crossed. He cleared his throat.

"I understand that last night, your actions were unwittingly disastrous." Her anger diffused into confusion as she tried to figure out what he meant.

"What?" she finally asked again, shaking her head slightly. He groaned internally. Will I have to dumb it down so that even a child could understand? She's an intelligent girl, but she acts like she's deaf.

In her favor, you did say it in a convoluted way. If you'd just said what I told you to, then she'd have understood, his dæmon countered.

"I said that I am willing to forgive your actions last night, because you didn't understand what you were doing," he growled, losing what little patience he had with both his dæmon and her. She gaped at him before her cheeks glowed a rosy pink and her face twisted in anger.

"I didn't do anything to you last night! And for your information, I knew exactly what I was doing." He shook his head.

"You did not. Otherwise, you would not have disgraced me so." Her cheeks turned a darker hue and he heard his dæmon laugh softly. Quite a comely little thing, when she's angry.

"I didn't disgrace you at all. You were the one that made such a big fuss over nothing," she argued obstinately. "I didn't even talk to you beyond what you and I said alone by that tree."

"No, but you chose weak-minded little fools as your possible suitors." He paused, wracking his mind to find some way to make her understand how potentially embarrassing it could have been for their bloodline. If only she were a century or two older, back when people still cared about their family trees! Then it would have been so much easier to make her comprehend his words.

"I could have ripped any of them apart with my hands tied behind my back," he added. She grunted in disgust and shook her head, running a hand through her hair.

"I know you could," she finally admitted. "But did it ever occur to you that I wanted those people because of something other than brute strength?" She uncrossed her arms and they dangled loosely at her sides. "I liked their emotions, their minds. They were smart and funny and passionate about something. That's why I let them stay with me." She looked up at him sadly, and he could see that she expected him not to understand.

"Humor and passion will not be good protection for you when you're attacked," he pointed out. She laughed, startling him. She thought being attacked was funny?! How humorous would it be when hordes of Ghouls were swarming her, and she had nothing to fall back on but her chosen's "emotion"? His dæmon snorted. Who will attack her with hordes of Ghouls?

"Who's going to be attacking me?" Seras asked at the same time, the same derision lacing her words.

"Better to be prepared as not," he replied. "Kingdoms have fallen from the same highhanded faith you pronounce so righteously." His expression became dark and brooding, and he looked away from her. "I know from personal experience."

"And I suppose you were the attacker that proved them wrong," she jeered. When he didn't answer, he heard her exhale softly. "Oh." He looked back to see her staring at the ground, looking thoroughly chastised. Now her cheeks burned for a different reason. Just tell her, his dæmon murmured. She won't laugh. Not at you. Not after that.

"Seras." She looked up, eyes misty. Why does she weep? I haven't even spoken harshly to her yet.

She weeps for us, I think, his dæmon acknowledged. She knows your life hasn't been the easiest, for it to come to this. Alucard didn't even ask what it meant by "This". He almost didn't want to know, even though deep down, there was no denying it. She pities us, not for our actions, but for the fact that we are alone.

I am never alone, she should know that, he replied harshly. I have you.

You could have her, too, it responded. He didn't respond, but instead looked at the girl standing so patiently, waiting to hear him out when she could have just as easily left for the hills. He wouldn't have stopped her, not at this point.

Perhaps it would be better to let her go with one of those weaklings. He could always protect her from afar, as a former master should. But the thought of letting her leave his side angered his dæmon and made his chest tighten strangely. He would have passed it off as jealousy, but jealousy didn't make him feel so… regretful.

"My power…" he began slowly, looking down at the runes on his gloves. As long as Sir Integra remained alive, he was bound to her will, and the family. But when she died, as she inevitably would, what would become of him? Serving a master had taken up the past few decades, and he'd never been bored with watched the interesting nature of humans.

But sooner rather than later, that would change. Where would he go then? And what of Seras? Where would she go, if they were turned out of house and home by government officials. Or even worse, if they tried to destroy them both. He would survive, undoubtedly, but he had doubts for her. She was young yet, and while she was stronger than the average vampire, she held humans in regard, and might hesitate to kill them. The price for such a hesitation might very well be her unlife.

"My power is one of the few things I have left to offer," he growled, and his hands clenched into fists. He remembered how his fists used to look, clad in iron and clasping his sword as he rode to the battlefield, adrenaline in his veins. It used to be so exhilarating. "I have nothing else left inside me."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand and shook his head. The weight of his years weighed on him, even without the millions of souls in his mind. "I know what it is that you want, but I cannot—I do not remember how to give it to you. I lost those… other capacities centuries ago." There was an intense silence, and he looked up to see her watching him carefully.

"You always make sure that you use proper language, don't you?" she said suddenly. "You never say slang or mix your words up like I do. You take time to make sure that every word that passes through your lips conveys the right meaning." She pointed to her own mouth as she spoke. "So…." she stepped closer, almost shyly. "If you've lost those capacities, like you say…"

"Yes," he murmured. She smiled and looked up, blushing as she met his eyes.

"The opposite of lost is found, isn't it? So if you've lost them, that means that you might be able to find them again."

"It's not that simple." She stretched, her arms behind her head as she nodded in agreement.

"Whoever said that life was simple was a bloody fool," she announced. She glanced slyly at him, stepping closer again and pressing one finger to his chest accusingly. "But didn't you once tell me that resignation is what kills people?"

He blinked at her and she shook her head, tutting. "If you've resigned that this is as good as you'll ever get then you should just go out there, stand against the eastern wall, and wait for the sun. Don't you think?" She winked. "Or are you just a big hypocrite after all?"

He didn't voice an answer, and she smiled knowingly before moving back and turning to leave. "I'll just leave you to think about that, then." She fluffed her hair and waved, heading for the door. "Come and see me sometime tonight, even if it's just to watch the others, okay?" With that, she was gone.

"What?" he hissed, managing to slide down into his chair once more. Resignation is what kills people. Yes, he'd said that to her, and to Walter, too. But she'd used his own words against him. How had she managed that? Why did he let her manage it in the first place, when it had sounded so insolent? What had just happened?

I think we just got back into the fight, his dæmon confessed with some measure of approval. Good job; you didn't really need me after all.

Author's Note: This story is nearly at an end. Only… 3(?) more chapters to go? Somewhere along those lines. I'd hate to end this story on an unlucky 13th chapter. I might drag it out for 14. :0

Completely unrelated to Hellsing: I saw Big Hero 6. I liked it. Well worth the cash. 8/10, would see again.