Again: thanks to everyone who made comments. Cookies for you!

Those of you who aren't commenting should also have cookies. Or, if you prefer, ice cream. Hopefully you are entertained. If you aren't, I'll kill Uncle Richard for you.

Hellsing is not my intellectual property! It was thought up by a Ms. Kouta Hirano. Christopher Chant belongs to Diana Wynne Jones; He-Man belongs to someone else; Dutch belongs to, I believe, FOX. All of those credited should feel free to have two scoops and sprinkles. AND cherries.

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Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing rolled a sheet of paper between her fingers. Despite the late hour, she was still in the library, pursued from her bed by the desire for a cigar. The library, with its keen sensors and gas system for fire dampening, was the one place in the manor she never took a cigar. And since she had decided to carry a baby, she had quit them.

"I know you're still there," Integra said sharply. The clock ticked. Integra sipped her tea, make an elegant notation on a thin sheet of paper, and placed it between two leaves of a heavy book.

"My master does not trust my ability to care for her?" Alucard flowed down from the thick curtains, pooled, and rose into a column.

"Your master understands that you can be a manipulative creature." Integra folded her book and placed it aside, lacing her fingers on the desktop. "I know exactly how you handled the police-Miss Seras Victoria. You gave her a false decision: live or die. You never offered to move to one side and shoot, as you could have done in a heartbeat." Integra's eyes were narrowed. "I will not allow you to place me in such a dilemma."

"The police girl had not yet found her way." Alucard draped himself over the edge of the desk. Integra put a hand on her book to be sure that it (or her bookmark) wouldn't be removed. "It was not against her will."

"It was a deception," Integra pointed out, thin-lipped.

"I did not have time to argue."

"And I do not have time to argue with you." Integra pulled her book under her elbow and flipped open a second tome. "I intend to isolate you until my heir is born." She didn't even focus on the chapter headings. She was aware of the minute shift of color as Alucard's eyes widened and narrowed.

A knock on the door cut off their conversation. "Come in."

Walter entered. He took in Alucard, brooding, and Integra, pretending to read. "Our agents have brought further news of your Uncle Richard's son." Integra loved the way it was always "your Uncle Richard." She had never heard Richard's name coupled with the Hellsing surname since her Uncle had been carried wounded from the house.

"Thank you, Walter." She reached out for the tray he carried. Alucard didn't move while Integra opened up the folder. "He's got the Hellsing eyes that somehow skipped Richard. Cute little kid. And he'll never have this house." She glanced at the box her elderly servant carried. "Alucard, please leave us until I call you. Entirely."

"Of course, Master." Alucard retreated into the curtains again.

"He's caught a little," said Walter, putting the box on the table in front of her. Integra recognised the box; Walter had picked up her catalogue from the sperm bank. She opened it, unfolded the letter lying on top, scanned it, and closed it again with a sigh. She handed the letter back to Walter. "It was inevitable. Burn this as soon as you're out of the library." She opened the book. "My word."

Walter visibly restrained herself from looking over her shoulder. Integra pushed the book out to let him see. "Portraits, vital statistics, personal information, and a family medical history. No wonder it's called a 'catalogue.' I feel like I'm shopping for a pet."

Walter shrugged at the catalogue. "I'm sure you'll have enough information to make your choice."

"And then I have a year or so to change my mind, because the success rate is so low." Integra sighed. "Doing this often will get expensive. I can't wait to resolve this one at our budget meeting.

"I'll have to do some background checks to be sure these people are who they say they are-the bank didn't explain their security." Integra stared at the names, tapping her pen on the page. "I need a strong family history in mental health and leadership." She frowned. "Maybe I should make requests."

"I think you would be better advised to keep this simple."

"You're right." Integra dragged her eyes from the rolodex. "Well. Adam Eternity's family background appears solid in leadership. But how can weight and height both be 'alternating?' No. Christopher Chant. . . no record of leadership in his family." Integra gave up and turned the page. "Major Dutch Schaefer. This is closer to what I want, but there's an odd notation here; he seems to have had an episode of delusion during a stressful mission. No. Hellsing's heir needs to be strong despite all odds." Integra turned over a few more pages. "Walter, I need more tea."

When he was back, the catalogue bore signs of being thrown at a wall, but Integra was her calm self. "Thank you, Walter. Why is there a bare spot on the shelves?"

"That was my work, Sir Integra. I was merely tidying."

"I see. I thought that our resident might have moved the books on binding." Integra's hand motioned as if to strike a lighter. "I was going to ask him where his binding spells are, but that would be cruel. Father's notes will be here somewhere. Please call ahead to the bank. I prefer #10579."

Walter repeated the number back to be certain that he'd caught it, recovered the catalogue, and departed. He didn't dream of checking the catalogue to see who Hellsing had chosen.

On a hill a fair distance away, Alucard was in no danger of following Integra's plans. He had was attempting to finish another interminable phone conversation with Richard Hellsing. What a boring man, made interesting only by his extreme greed. His quibbling was getting on the vampire's nerves. Optimistically wondering if vampire activity in England were going to pick up again soon, Alucard got rid of the man to go attend to his next ploy. Alucard sauntered back towards the Hellsing Organization's headquarters. He was almost cheerful enough to start whistling.