Same disclaimer, different day. I don't own Hellsing or its characters. Nor do I own Vodun. Oh, and these characters are borrowed without the knowledge (or permission) of Kouta Hirano.

..

"Gas mask girl!"

Seras, trying to remember the difference between a mambo and a mamba, nearly jumped out of her shoes. She hadn't caught so much as a whiff of human, and here some girl was grabbing her shoulder.

"What?" She turned, her expression friendly and ever so slightly guarded, and looked into a bright pair of blue eyes. The woman's face was round, her features sharpened with unfriendly lines, but at the moment she looked happy. Her hair was cropped short.

"Thank goodness. We've been looking everywhere for you. Come on."

"Sorry?" Seras said, towed along at a startling clip in the girl's wake. She was too strong, and a bit too fast. Seras mentally sighed and clenched one hand into a fist. Then she absorbed the "we." "Who?"

"The new Valentines, of course. Remember us from the club?" The girl threw one smile over her shoulder. "What happened to you?"

"Uhh," Seras found it almost impossible to make up a backstory when she'd already been identified as someone else.

"I can't believe it! I was just thinking, how many spiky-haired blonde female vampires can there be in the city! And right when we'd found somewhere else to go, too."

"Oh?"

"Good move, losing the gas mask." The girl smiled over her shoulder. "A bit too distinctive. Ah, here we are."

It was now "The Lady of the Lake Travel Guides," Seras saw before the girl banged the door open and strode in. Before that, it had been something dark and smelling strongly of leather. Seras, still towed along in the girl's wake, sneezed.

"You never did show up. We were looking for you. Hey, Jasmine, we found the gas mask girl!"

That suggested a good deal of organization. No, it wouldn't be a good idea to just haul out some artillery.

"Hur-rah." The girl stood, some posters under one arm and a riding crop in the other. Her blonde hair hung in two braids. She held up the crop. "You missed one."

"How's the boat prep?"

"Elenore and I visited the owner last night. He was more than happy to give up his share of the boat. Of course, the bi people aren't too happy about this." Jasmine threw the crop into a cardboard box.

Seras blinked. Boat-owning bipartisans? Bisexuals? Bible-owners? Biweekly writers? Bicyclists?

"I did wonder what you looked like under the mask." Jasmine smiled at her. "Pleased to meet you. And now we can finally get out of here."

Sir Integra would want to hear about this. . .

"She's been a little out of it all," said Seras' abductress. "I'm betting she's one of Luke's. He liked blondes more."

"Much is explained." Jasmine rolled her eyes. "What'd he do, put the bite on you when you were drunk? They weren't boys to bother explaining things to the help." She turned, hopping up on a stepstool to unroll a poster. "I'm afraid we simply don't have time to introduce you to everyone tonight. We're leaving soon. I hope you'll come with us?"

"I have to get my things," Seras said, frowning. She didn't miss the vaguely annoyed look Jasmine shot her guide. "I've been getting along, but I can't just vanish."

"Suit yourself. Just be back here tomorrow night." Jasmine was enveloped abruptly in poster as the tape holding the top of the sheet gave out. She cursed, Seras' guide moved to help her, and Seras let herself out.

Fascinating.

She circled the building once, looking at all windows and doors from a distance, and left.

..

Sir Integra was watching for her when she walked up to the office building. And to her surprise, Sir Integra appeared to be wearing something that looked like a very serious dress. It was a simple black jacket and skirt, she realized when she came closer.

"Ah, Seras. You'll need to pack your things," said Sir Integra briskly. "We're leaving England for the time being."

"Why?" asked Seras, alarmed. Surely they weren't going into hiding. For one thing, Sir Integra would already be in custody if something had happened.

"Because I'm pregnant."

"Oh."

"And I'm on what could be called maternity leave. I'm being packed out of the way while the Round Table bickers among itself and feels sure that I'm out of harm's way. Or notoriety's way. Whichever comes first."

"Er, when. . ."

"Two weeks ago. I only announced it today." Sir Integra cupped her chin in her hands.

The worry line between her eyebrows told Seras that this was more of a problem than her director wanted to say.

"I've just found a possible lead. There are a pair of female vampires that say they're a part of a group. And they're heading out of England soon."

"What happened?"

"I was mistaken for someone else. I couldn't ask many questions for fear that the person I'm supposed to be already knows the answers. I thought it best to play along until I'd spoken with you."

"You're probably right." Integra slapped her hip, looking for a slacks pocket containing cigars, and then remembered she was wearing a skirt. "Do you know who they were?"

"They called themselves the New Valentines. One girl was named Jasmine. She acted like she gave most of the orders. She also mentioned an "Elenore." Seras frowned. "We didn't kill a spiky-haired blonde FREAK in a gas mask, did we?"

"You'll have to check the—"Integra fell silent. Their files containing the profiles of FREAKs eliminated by Hellsing was still in confiscation. "I'm afraid I can't tell you." She frowned. "Jasmine Valentine. Sounds like a stripper. Can you describe her?"

"About my height, pale blonde hair in braids, probably about this long loose," she tapped her shoulder, "slender face, good bones. She's young, attractive, probably didn't smoke."

"Wonderful," said Integra. "I get to spend the next two hours looking for young blonde attractive strippers. The Round Table will be overjoyed at my womanly behavior. She didn't have any tattoos, did she? Or a useful scar?"

"She said 'hurrah' and had a faintly American accent." Seras coughed. "They want me to go back tomorrow night and leave with them."

Sir Integra's brows drew closer together. "Really. I don't suppose you've learned to transform into a cloud of bats?"

"Master said that it was about as easy as transforming into a cloud of bats. I'll have to try."

"Because I'm going to be travelling by ocean liner." Sir Integra glowered. "And I'll be leaving at seven-thirty."

"Oh. Not good. What's the name of your ship?"

"The 'Sea Queen.' Vastly pretentious."

"I don't know what theirs is. They said-"Seras decided that she did not want to explain her bionic-people theory she'd come up with on the way home, "nothing useful about the name."

"Hmm. Far too easy that we'll be on the same ship." Sir Integra now had tension in her shoulders, and Seras knew she was thinking of Walter's ability to smuggle artillery with luggage. "You're going to have to learn to turn into a cloud of bats very quickly, I'm afraid."

"All right." Seras moved towards the kitchenette and the stocked fridge.

During the next two hours, Seras turned into interesting variations on the theme of "ooze."

"You are thinking of flight, correct?" said Integra, who had her stony "I don't need to throw up, who, me? Never" face on.

"I'm trying," said Seras, closing her eyes and melting into the carpet like a candle in a fire. Sir Integra looked away.

"I'll be assuming a new identity," she said, as the messy pile on the carpet abruptly shot towards the ceiling and splattered loudly. "I'm not quite going into hiding, but I'm going out of the men's way. They're very particular about it." She nodded critically. "I think you're getting into the separation thing. I'm fairly sure I saw light through you that time."

Seras reformed on the carpet. "It's not easy!"

"I don't doubt it." Sir Integra watched Seras blow some hair away from her face, frown at her feet, and abruptly turn into something bulky, hairy, and entirely unsuited for flight.

"Close," Integra said, casually grabbing the leg of the coffee table just in case Seras had just lost track of her nature. "Get some more blood and try again."

Seras staggered for a moment and reappeared holding her head. "That was most uncomfortable."

"I wonder if we can get a helicopter to swing around and pick you up—no, I'm thinking like a commander again." Integra's expression was carefully formed to hide pain. Seras, in a rapid attempt to spare them both, turned into a column of bats fused together and fell onto the coffee table.

"Close. Very close."

"Can you get a delay in your departure?" Seras asked, re-forming herself with caution. "And what have I done to my clothes?"

"Looks like you've fused them all together," Integra said. "Fascinating."

Seras growled and spat out a button. "This is not convenient."

"I tried. The Round Table doesn't want anyone to think of them as unchivalrous; they're bundling me out of harm's way immediately." Integra sighed.

"Is that why you're wearing a skirt?"

"Something like. I wanted to be. . . harder to recognise." Integra shrugged at Seras' skeptical look. "You managed the same thing in fifteen minutes. Perhaps I should borrow your wardrobe."

"Oh, funny." Seras growled and tried once more. A bat spiky with at least sixteen pairs of wings fell onto the carpet. She reformed. "Do we have a crowbar?"

"I'm afraid there's no help for it," Integra said, shrugging. "I'll have to go without you and let you catch up."

"Walter wouldn't-"Seras stopped, not in time. The cheerful mood died instantly.

"Walter is serving elsewhere," Integra said, hoping that he wasn't locked up somewhere. "I'm running out of time, Seras. I want to get this 'Valentine' girl, or group, reported and at least the basics of where she came from squared away." She walked to the window. "It's going to be a very sunny day and you're already tired. I'd suggest you stay in."

"Right. Could I pack your things while you're busy?"

"I've been prepared for this for weeks." Integra cast a smile over her shoulder. "But thank you."

"No problem." Seras headed for the next room. "I hope they have a spare coffin I could use."

Integra watched her go, shaking her head. She was going to miss Seras.

Now, how could she pack the pistol? Could it go under the hair-curling set? There were a lot of metal pins in those. . .