Disclaimer: See chapter one

A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. Here's another chapter for you all. (Phew!) Writing Hellsing is harder than any other fanfiction I've yet done....

Chapter Two

Seras was awoken the next evening by laughter from outside her coffin. She jerked her head up, nearly hitting it on the top of her sleeping compartment. She knew that laugh.

: Oh, no... : she thought, slapping the button to lift the coffin lid. Already she could hear Anderson's enraged shouting as a counterpoint to the laughing. Her bed opened onto the scene she'd been dreading.

Alucard, standing at the foot of the cot, laughing his head off. Anderson on the cot, face bright red from his screaming at the elder vampire.

"Master!" Seras jumped out into the room. He turned a fanged grin on her, and she could almost feel his amusement. He had the oddest reactions to things sometimes.

"So this is what you've been up to, police girl? Keeping the Judas Priest as a pet?"

"I'm nae pet ye bloodsucking hell-demon!" Anderson's head and shoulders jerked as he fought the paralysis of his body, trying to sit up. A rose of blood blossomed on the sheets as his efforts merely reopened his stitches.

"Anderson, you –" Seras made a move towards the cot.

"Stay away from me, ye damned undead bitch!" bellowed the priest in a fury. The young vampire halted, startled, then angry. A loud click snapped her out of her momentary confusion. Alucard had his Jackal pointed at the paladin's forehead.

"Master, no!" Seras darted over to the red clad man's side. He turned amused eyes on her.

"No, police girl?" He smirked at Anderson. "How does it feel to be hiding behind a vampire for protection, Judas Priest?" There was an inarticulate howl of rage from the green-eyed Catholic, and more blood appeared as he struggled even harder against his unresponsive body.

"It wouldn't be any challenge right now, Master," Seras said almost hesitantly. "He isn't regenerating right, he's just about paralyzed from the shoulders down –"

"Just tell him everythin, why don't ye, Draculina?" shouted Anderson.

"We're going for a walk," Alucard announced firmly, putting away his gun and gripping Seras by the arm. There was no room for dissention against the tone or the grip. "Enjoy your stay, Vatican dog."

And he phased right into the wall, taking a shocked Seras along with him. She barely had time to try to scream as they passed through brick, mortar and concrete, before they had arrived outside the manor on the grass under a bloody full moon.

"I think you need to talk fast, police girl. Convince me why I should let you keep your pet – and not put him down this very night." Seras gulped and began to explain. Alucard's vibrant red eyes did not leave her once through the entire, somewhat rambling explanation. He smirked at the full description of the paladin's injuries. He smiled at the tale of her sewing him up without anesthetic and force-feeding him. And when she somewhat shamefacedly admitted her favorite reason, that it so angered the priest to be beholden to a vampire, he began to laugh uproariously.

"At the least I now have something to entertain my master with," the elder vampire said once he'd finished laughing, referring to Sir Integra. "Keep your pet for the time being. And watch he doesn't bite the hand that feeds him once he regains his mobility again."

"Y-yes, my master," Seras replied. She had a feeling Sir Hellsing would be far less amused than Alucard was.

The smell of blood hit her hard as she stepped back into her room. Anderson lay nearly motionless on the cot, his face to the wall and his teeth bared in a feral grimace. Seras ignored his heated glare as she pulled off the stained coverlet.

"Look at this Anderson, you ripped all the stitches on your right leg and most of the ones on your arm and chest!" He refused to answer. Rolling her eyes at his silent treatment, she pulled out the first aid kit and began to patch the priest back up.

"And ye said he wasn't that bad," he sneered at her as she was finishing up the stitching on his chest. "Slave to a monster, that's what ye are."

"Like you're any better," retorted Seras, not in the mood for this. "Remember our first meeting? You killed the commander of my unit – an innocent man – for no reason at all."

"The fool was workin with ye hellspawn," Anderson replied almost loftily.

"His name was Gareth. Captain Gareth. He had a wife and two little girls. He was working with Hellsing to keep England safe from the freak vampires." Seras could feel her fangs lengthening with irritation at his dismissive attitude of her first commander.

"He was a heretic Protestant working alongside vampires. In the name of God, the souls of the impure and heretics shall be sent to Hell –"

Seras slammed her fist down on the table nearby with enough force to break it.

"Good done in the devil's name is not the devil's work, and evil done in god's name is not god's work! Which category do you fall into, murderer?" She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door on her way out, leaving one extremely disconcerted priest behind.

: Even the Devil can quote scripture, : Anderson thought uneasily to himself as he stared at the closed door. But her words echoed strangely in his head.

He was an innocent man...wife and two daughters...keep England safe...good done in devil's name...not devil's work...evil done in god's name...not god's work....what category do you fall into, murderer?

Murderer...

Murderer...