(Many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I wasn't sure whether I
should continue this but several people seemed to want me to, thanks! This
is a prequel to the last chapter, explaining how the affair got started. I
did pay attention to the feedback that Alucard was a bit too soft and
mushy. but I didn't want to totally change my depiction of the character in
the middle of the fic. And Integra may be a bit OOC here too but I'm
trying to establish that these are exceptional circumstances. Oh, and I'm
sorry the chapters are so short, I'm still getting used to writing again.)
A few years ago, after the defeat of Incognito and her release from prison, Integra was certain that Hellsing would never rise again. For myself, I was indifferent to the end of this institution, but I was still bound to my master. I continued to protect her. Sometimes I was the only person she seemed able to turn to.
Integra, however, had changed. She was withdrawn and depressed, and had no answer to my usual barbs and banter. I was surprised at her acceptance of defeat. She had always been so strong, but she was faced with the loss of her life's only goal.
It only made her mood worse when Walter became ill. Yet another strong person was becoming weak before my eyes. Integra still ran what missions she could with our limited resources but I could see the strain getting worse and worse.
One day she had a meeting with the Iscariot Organization. Turning to them for help was a desperate measure. I wanted another shot at Father Anderson, but nothing else to do with Iscariot, and I refused to go. So I was not there when the meeting turned ugly.
When I found her she was sitting by a river on the grounds. It had long been her favorite place, and I was hesitant to interrupt her there. But she spoke first.
"They will not be of any aid to the Hellsing organization as long as we continue to shelter monsters."
"Well, surely you expected that, Master."
"I merely told them that you and Seras are worth more to me than any aid they could possibly give. But I didn't expect them to insult my father, and my entire lineage."
I laughed. "Since when do you listen to their garbage?"
Integra shook her head and looked at the river. I could see she looked as if she might cry. I had not seen her cry since her childhood. And even then she would never turn to anyone for help. In some ways my master was always a mystery to me, and I had no idea how to approach her now. Finally I put a hand on her shoulder and waited.
She stood up and brushed herself off. Quietly, almost as an offhand remark, she said, "Then that bastard had to tell me I'm not a real woman."
At any other time we might have laughed together about what a priest could know of women, but I could see that this remark had somehow wounded her deeply. I walked in front of her, looked her in the eye and said, "I wish I could show you that you are a real woman."
She held my gaze for a long time, and suddenly I realized I was going to kiss her. I admit I had pictured doing this before, but I had never found a good time, and now might be the worst time of all. But all I could think of now was to make some contact with her, and she welcomed it, pressing close to me as if to gather some of my strength.
What followed there by the river was a closeness I never realized she could want. Yet I still didn't know if I had given her what she was seeking.
A few years ago, after the defeat of Incognito and her release from prison, Integra was certain that Hellsing would never rise again. For myself, I was indifferent to the end of this institution, but I was still bound to my master. I continued to protect her. Sometimes I was the only person she seemed able to turn to.
Integra, however, had changed. She was withdrawn and depressed, and had no answer to my usual barbs and banter. I was surprised at her acceptance of defeat. She had always been so strong, but she was faced with the loss of her life's only goal.
It only made her mood worse when Walter became ill. Yet another strong person was becoming weak before my eyes. Integra still ran what missions she could with our limited resources but I could see the strain getting worse and worse.
One day she had a meeting with the Iscariot Organization. Turning to them for help was a desperate measure. I wanted another shot at Father Anderson, but nothing else to do with Iscariot, and I refused to go. So I was not there when the meeting turned ugly.
When I found her she was sitting by a river on the grounds. It had long been her favorite place, and I was hesitant to interrupt her there. But she spoke first.
"They will not be of any aid to the Hellsing organization as long as we continue to shelter monsters."
"Well, surely you expected that, Master."
"I merely told them that you and Seras are worth more to me than any aid they could possibly give. But I didn't expect them to insult my father, and my entire lineage."
I laughed. "Since when do you listen to their garbage?"
Integra shook her head and looked at the river. I could see she looked as if she might cry. I had not seen her cry since her childhood. And even then she would never turn to anyone for help. In some ways my master was always a mystery to me, and I had no idea how to approach her now. Finally I put a hand on her shoulder and waited.
She stood up and brushed herself off. Quietly, almost as an offhand remark, she said, "Then that bastard had to tell me I'm not a real woman."
At any other time we might have laughed together about what a priest could know of women, but I could see that this remark had somehow wounded her deeply. I walked in front of her, looked her in the eye and said, "I wish I could show you that you are a real woman."
She held my gaze for a long time, and suddenly I realized I was going to kiss her. I admit I had pictured doing this before, but I had never found a good time, and now might be the worst time of all. But all I could think of now was to make some contact with her, and she welcomed it, pressing close to me as if to gather some of my strength.
What followed there by the river was a closeness I never realized she could want. Yet I still didn't know if I had given her what she was seeking.