Love Will Tear Us Apart Again
"Hmm, will this fit better, or that?" the woman asked herself while holding up a long, lacy dress in one hand, and a rainbow, silk skirt in the other. The motley pattern of violet, emerald and azure appealed more. Smooth satin caressed slender hips, as Angelique Le Chat dressed for supper. Her creme blouse was form-fitting and of a soft, spun cotton while the patchwork skirt exploded in a kaleidoscope of color. A pair of large, gold hoop earrings completed the gypsy-like dress; before she walked out the door, she pilled a stack of coppery bangles upon her bare wrists .They jangled like bells- she wanted to let the company know when she was coming. Her dear husband would be joining them later-he was occupied with the children right now, aiding them in their studies. Ms. Le Chat glided down the stairwell and headed towards the dining hall. Tonight, she would be meeting the Arch Bishop's company officially-she had already met the delightful mademoiselle, and looked towards their next encounter.
Dinner was rather early-what would have been considered "Tea" in Integra's Britain, but due to the performance tonight, the household made an exception to prepare the meal several hours in advance. Sir Hellsing sat at the table with a dour look on her face. The paperwork for the convention had been daunting and she had been up since 6 A.M. attempting to organize it. The Bishop had been particularly clingy today- asking for her company at breakfast, constantly "checking in " on her office work to see if she "needed" anything, and all the while she had the feeling that when ever she exited his company , his eyes undressed her. Damn skirts, damn Italy, damn it all! She was growing quite weary of this little game and was a few short puffs away from strangling him. Seras had done as much as she could to lift her mistress' spirits and she was enthusiastic about seeing the opera.
"I've never been to one- I don't think "The Pirates of Penzance" counts, does it? Ohh, I do so like theatre!" She had already picked out a charming frock to wear herself and also chose something appropriate for Sir Hellsing.
"I'll make sure it's a dark colour, so that you can hid a handgun under the jacket." she stated. Ah, the little vampire could be very practical when she wanted to be...
The Hellsing Household sat patiently waiting for the Bishop to settle in for supper; Seras was to her left while Alucard perched by his master's right side. Serviceman Smith was outside the door, while his companion had claimed to not be feeling very well-he retired to his quarters to nurse a nasty headache. Father Christabel had settled in at the long table and made pleasant small talk with the little family.
"And how do you find your accommodations?" he inquired to the vampires, perhaps still unaware of their un-dead status.
"Cozy" replied Seras.
"Quite pleasant- I haven't seen this many skulls since the war of 1812." The priest gulped.
"Skulls, senor?" The creature grinned a little too broadly.
"We're guests in the City of the Dead downstairs in the catacombs, Father. But have no fear-they are good neighbours-they don't complain much." Integra lifted her platinum brow.
"Play nice, Cheshire King." she warned mentally. He shot a knowing look at his master.
"Of course-your wish is my command.." Before there could be further conversation, mentally or otherwise, Maxwell entered with a beautiful, blonde woman on his arm and the Irish priest, Father Anderson to his left. The woman smiled bewitchingly, while the priest cast a civil, but stony look upon the table.
"Thank you for waiting, but I had wanted to show Mrs. Le Chat the plans for the Holiday Concert." Enrico stated. He allowed the woman to be seated first, then took his own place at the head of the table, meanwhile, his right-hand-man stood behind him.
"How good to see your company." Integra started "Father will you not sit down." The man shook his head.
"I'm not very hungry, Miss and I would prefer ta eat with human company, if ya don't mind." Alucard's eyes narrowed, while his ward attempted to conceal her growing terror like a brave tabby encountering a pit- bull. She had not forgotten the impalings that Anderson had given her in the past.The vampire rose.
"Master, I will gladly take my meal elsewhere I will be ready to escort you later. " He extended his hand to his ward. "Come , girl." The pair exited , leaving Integra with the mixed company. On her way out, Seras could not help but notice that the French woman she had met the previous night or two ago gave her a wink and subtle smile. There was a bit of an odd silence at the table as eyes shifted back and forth to one another.
"So, you are the director of the English organization, yes?", Mrs. Le Chat asked. Integra nodded.
"Yes, Sir Integra Wingates Fairbrook Hellsing. " She smiled warmly in return, and introduced herself.
"I'm Angelique Le Chat- I'm here with my husband Jacques-we're from the Saint Marietta Orphanage of Prince-au-Port, Haiti. Our children were requested to perform the Holiday choir for the convention." The servants began to dish out the meal-a thick tomato soup encrusted with Parmesan cheese and flaky bread sticks was a pleasant opening course. While the tension was easing out gradually, Integra could not help but exchange few strained glances with Father Anderson. He at least took the effort to politely ask a few questions about her arrival and how she was going to enjoy the performance later on. Inspire of everyone's best behaviour, she could still feel chills creeping up and down her spine, the feeling intensifying as the Bishop claimed the place to her right where her servant had been. During the main dish, Integra felt a light tickling sensation on the mid-section of her back; the Arch Bishop was brushing his fingers through a few strands of her long hair. She gave him a curious look.
"You had something caught in your hair, Miss." He produced a flower petal from his gloved fingers, and merely grinned a little. "Perhaps you bumped against one of the centerpieces." This was the second time today that the man had set hands on her hair- this morning he had made a comment about its length and brushed a strand out of her face as she leaned over her spreadsheets.
"Thank you." she replied flatly. She repressed the urge to kick him under the table, after all, she was a composed woman of twenty-seven, not a rash child of seven and- a- half. The meal progressed without too much trouble and the conversation between the other woman at the table grew interesting. They began to speak of the opera, which sent Maxwell into a long diatribe about the composer, the music, and of course, the subject matter.
"The libretto is about a cruel, haughty princess who wishes to never marry. She does not want to surrender her power and wealth to a husband, so she conceals her true name, hiding it in a riddle. Whom ever can guess it properly gains her hand, but none of the suitors succeed. She is a heartless woman who delights in tormenting those who only wish to love her- what do you think of this plot, Sir Hellsing?" Integra took a sip of her water and cleared her throat.
"Perhaps she is not cruel, but wise-power should not be given up so freely, and especially upon the whims of the heart."
"Would you call marriage a whim, madame?"
"The institution, no, the various emotions that may lead into it-yes." The priest said nothing and continued to eat in small, careful bites. Angelique chuckled into her napkin and the Arch Bishop stared back at her, hands tucked under his chin.
"It seems that we have a maiden lady here, Bishop." Mrs. Le Chat joked,"Perhaps she has so much that she does not want to share with a husband?"
"I am quite content the way I am, Ms. Le Chat." Sir Hellsing replied. The Frenchwoman flicked her hands open in a dramatic gesture, causing the bangles to jingle.
"Maybe you have not yet met the right man- after all, a good man is hard to find. I count my blessings everyday that my husband is in my life-such a kind, wonderful, devoted man...not to mention he takes his work very seriously."
Elsewhere-
Williams began to sweat, but his body was racked with violent fits of shaking, he was so cold-it was as if his whole being was encased in ice. His throat was beginning to burn and he desperately tried not to cough, it only made the dull ache in his head worse. The chills had begun early this morning, while the headache had been lingering since the previous night .Food poisoning-it had to be food poisoning Perhaps it was all the rich fare and wine that was being crammed down his gullet. He craved his wife's simple cooking-a good plate of mash and eggs would have really hit the spot right now. Slowly, he rolled over on his side attempting to comfort his throbbing temple, but the feeling intensified. His pyjamas were soaked and he desperately wanted a hot shower. His eyes began to flutter and close and the man drifted in and out of a feverish sleep. When he re-opened them, a tall, black man in a bright, orange shirt with a beaming grin was hovering above him with a small, steaming cup.
"Hallo, mate." he chimed . The colour was intense and his clothes seemed to glow with an incandescent light. "Here-I bring you something to make you sleep- your friend says you don't feel well, so here you go." He extended his hands and offered the blue cup to the afflicted man. Williams inhaled the aroma of pungent, green herbs.
"What is it?," he asked weakly. He hadn't had much to eat or drink for almost a whole day and was worried that it would not settle in his stomach.
"Herbal remedy from my hometown-fix you up, bon-bon, in no time." The man grinned wider, the two gold teeth in his mouth flashing . Williams sat up carefully, wobbling to his left. His nurse steadied him a little and handed off the beverage. He drank it carefully in tiny sips- the taste was light and the thick, hot liquid soothed his parched tongue.
"Remember to drink it all up-after all, we don't want you to only heal half-way." Instead of nausea , the man felt his whole body relax and a comfortable numbness ease into his head. The taste reminded him of some of the herbal teas that he liked to share with his family at home. Williams began to recline into his pillow, a delicious sleepiness overtaking him. Clumsily, he handed back the cup and muttered a bit of thanks to the man who had come to aid him.
"By morning, You'll be a new man,"Le Chat stated, "A whole new man indeed..."
Later-the Guest Room
"Now make sure that it's tight-good and tight-I don't want a single strand to come undone." Sir Hellsing ordered. Seras pulled her long cascade of golden hair into a pinned chignon, sweeping only a few strands over her forehead for personality. By some force of nature, or sheer luck, the girl had been able to sneak down into the laundry and retrieve a pair of her mistress' pants- a sharply cut pair of black velvet ones. The trousers had been paired with a almond-white, collared shirt, a nipped tuxedo jacket with satin lapels, and a silver ascot. The effect was quite becoming, reminding the little vampire of a 1930's movie she had seen where the woman had worn a tux and looked smashing. She felt that she didn't look so shabby herself; her choppy bob had been smoothed back with a some jeweled pins and she was clad in a Chinese dress of embroidered gold satin, the high slit revealing toned legs. The master himself had complimented her and told her she reminded him of a flute of champagne. Seras couldn't wait for him to see their mistress looking so polished and glamourous. Integra nervously toyed with a lock of hair.
"You look beautiful, Miss!" her servant exclaimed.
"Right now, vanity be damned-I just don't want that bastard touching my hair-it's like he has a fascination with it." Seras nodded in agreement and began to grab her mistress' coat. All of a sudden, she saw a shift in the shadows of the wardrobe mirror. A swirling veil of black and scarlet blinked with hundreds of eyes filling the looking glass. The average person would have screamed in terror, but the girl merely greeted the apparition.
"Hello master-are you getting ready, too?" the inky form shifted and merged into the shape of the vampire- he looked rather irked, standing arms akimbo. "Why don't you come into the room?"
"His 'holiness' does not wish for me to accompany you two to the opera house- but I have a bit of a plan." He pressed his palm up to the glass and grinned wickedly. "Let's just say that we're going to use his weakness to our advantage. " His master appeared behind the fledgling.
"Why aren't you present, Alucard?" she inquired. The creature bowed and stated his intentions. "Maxwell does not wish me to attend this function with you, master. He has placed relics outside my door, and posted Father Anderson to keep watch, claiming that if I leave my designated area, it will be seen as an attack on the household. I will merely have to follow you after you leave-it will be easy enough to lull the Priest to sleep and I can alter my appearance to keep close watch over both of you without being detected. Humour him for now, but let's see him squirm later." Integra faced the silver pane and pressed her palm up to the image's own.
"He's trying to keep us apart, but I think that we're a bit more resilient . I shall be with you soon, master." His body faded into a mist and the mirror returned to normal. Integra donned her coat and took a deep breath-it was going to be a long night.
1932's "Blue Angel"-Marlena Dieterich plays a night club singer in a top hat and tux-very sexy and gender-bendning for the time.
