Walter found himself self-consciously straightening his tie as the black car drew to a halt on the gravel drive in front of the Hellsing institution. It's doors opened to disgorge two dapper looking gentleman, one tall and thin, the other short and rotund, both wearing identical matching suits and bowler hats, each with a briefcase in one hand. Their hair might have been a little greyer than the last time Walter had seen them, but nothing else had changed.

They bowed in front of Walter

"Mister Ddolneaz, a pleasure to meet you."

Walter bowed himself, slightly lower.

"The pleasure is mine in receiving two such eminent visitors from her Majesties government. Please, come in. I will direct you to somewhere we can talk."

Walter led the two men up the stairs to the second floor, along the corridor which held Integra's office, and to a small room at the end which had once served as the disgraced Richard Hellsing's private study. The walls were lined with old books, kept miraculously free of dust by the tireless effort of the staff. Walter motioned to the two men to take a seat on a cracked brown leather sofa drawn up against one wall. They seated themselves, laying their briefcases across their laps. Then Walter himself sat, in an old green armchair positioned across from them.

"Now, Mr. Ddolneaz, you said you had an urgent matter to discuss with us that was far too important for the telephone." Said the short one, "Are we correct in thinking this has something to do with the garbled reports of the serious, or indeed, mortal wounding of Sir Hellsing?"

"Well…" There was a knock at the door. "Ah! Come in." Said Walter, gesturing the maid inside. "Tea, gentlemen?"

"Most hospitable of you Mr. Ddolneaz." Said the tall one. "I will have mine with a touch of milk and no sugar. My companion will have his with cream and four lumps."

The maid poured their tea, and handed each one a china cup.

"Thank-you, Angela. You may leave us now." said Walter. The maid curtseyed and left.

"Now, Mr Ddolneaz…" continued the short one.

"Sir Hellsing is dead gentlemen. Her heart ceased beating at precisely seven forty six AM yesterday."

"I'm sorry to hear it." Said the taller one, the barest hint of a look of relief coming to his face, "I'm sure a full state funeral…"

"A funeral is out of the question, Gentlemen," Said Walter, slowly taking a sip of his tea, which was without milk or sugar, "I doubt you could persuade Sir Hellsing to stay in the coffin. She seems to be quite unreasonable about them."

"Ah." Said the short one, removing his bowler hat and laying it on top of his briefcase. "We had expected something like this."

"Then you of course know the reason she chose such a thing over death?"

"Of course, of course." It was the tall one again "Her heir is only nine, and Lord Julian Chalmondley-Hellsing wasn't chosen as a husband for her on account of his keen analytical mind." Both men permitted themselves a small, polite laugh. "Indeed, Sir Hellsings…partial demise, shall we say, is probably a fortuitous turn of events. However, there are legal and moral issues to be considered."

"Of course." Said Walter, nodding sagely

"The first and most important question" Said the short one "Is will Sir Hellsing retain her human personality now that she is…erm…undead?"

"I see no reason why she should not, the greater part of it anyway. There is no way that anyone could remain completely unchanged by such a traumatic event, but Sir Integra was…is, a determined and resourceful woman. Once she has come to terms with her new diet and lifestyle, her personality should stabilise quite quickly. She will, of course, be affected by her vampirism…and particularly by her new dependence on her master…"

"Ah yes." Said the tall one, "If you can arrange a meeting with this, what is his name 'Alucard', so we can…"

He was cut off by Walter's laughter.

"She was not turned by Alucard." Walter simply stated

"But we assumed…"

"You assumed wrongly, Mr. Eldridge." The tall man looked slightly shocked that Walter knew his name. It was always good to keep something up your sleeve for times like this. "Sir Integra was observing a mission when she was attacked by one of the targets. She suffered fatal stab wounds to her chest and abdomen. Alucard was, at the time, here in the mansion, and though Sir Integra is bound to him by the seals, she hadn't the strength to call him. Instead, she commanded Seras to perform the act, and her seals forced her to obey, against her better instincts."

"Against her instincts?"

"Seras, more than any other vampire I have ever met, considers vampirism a curse. She admits to enjoying, craving even, blood and violence, such things are impossible to contain for the nosferatu, yet she would, all things be told, far rather be a normal, mortal human."

"I see…" said the short man "The other question is, do we have Sir Hellsing's assurance that she will step down when her son is ready to take his position? We cannot have her ruling Hellsing forever…it would arouse suspicion, to say the least."

"How many people got the news of her wounding."

"Only our department. We weren't planning on telling the other knights without confirmation. After all, despite security codes, a voice on a telephone is just a voice on a telephone, as I am sure you are aware, Mr. Ddolneaz."

"So therefore, I imagine the simplest thing to do would be to carry on as if nothing had happened."
"Indeed Mr. Ddolneaz. How much has her appearance changed?"

Walter thought for a moment, taking another sip of his tea. "She looks ten years younger, she has fangs and red eyes. Her fangs aren't particularly large, though. Indeed, when she's not feeding they could almost pass for abnormally large human canines."

"When she's feeding…?"
"Vampires fangs are partially retractable. They have to be otherwise their jaws could not close properly. Their fangs only extend to their full length when they feed. It's a natural reflex reaction, as much as anything about vampires can said to be natural, and even the transfusion blood we feed our vampires sets it off."

"I see. So Sir Hellsings teeth need no attention then…"

"I did say 'almost'"

"Ah…well, we can cover it up, can't we?"

"They can't be filed down, or anything like that. They'd simply regrow. I think Sir Integra might just need to keep her lips together a bit. As for her eyes, either tinted spectacles or contact lenses will see to those."

"You said she also looked younger…"
"We shall need a make-up artist or something then. If she is to look convincingly

human, we must also convince her to drink blood before attending any sort of function, as that will alleviate the classic deathly pallor."

"I must say that you know a lot about vampires, Mr. Ddolneaz. How long have you been in the service of the Hellsing institution?"

Walter laughed, revealing teeth that were perfectly normal, if rather white. "I've never been accused of that before," he said, laughing "Though I have been accused of a lot else."

"Of course, what was it, Angel of Death?"

Walter merely smiled. "In my younger days. I am now far too old to give even ghouls a decent fight. Now, so what will happen when Sir Integra gives up her post?"

"We will fake her death, wait a few months, then the Hellsing organisation can 'acquire' a new vampire from somewhere, much as you acquired officer Victoria fifteen years ago."

"I will have to discuss this with…"
"That is not a negotiable offer, Mr. Ddolneaz."

Walter came to a sudden realisation "You already had a plan for this didn't you?"

"We have been planning for this situation for twenty-five years Mr. Ddolneaz,

just as we have been planning for every other conceivable or inconceivable situation, from a war with France to the assassination of the Prime Minister. Planning for things is our job." The plump little man sat a little more erect as he said this, his moustache puffing up.

"Now, is it possible we have an interview with this...Seras? There is something we need to discuss with her."

"If you're talking about breaking the blood bond, forget it. She's not ready yet."

The two men jumped in surprise, and turned this way and that, before looking up to where Seras was clinging onto the ceiling like a lizard.

"Sorry gentlemen, it seems I forgot to knock."

She dropped, twisting in mid air to land in front of the two men, where she bowed deeply.

"Don't try to intimidate us, monster." Said the tall one, looking very affronted.

Seras grinned. Her fangs were most certainly not retracted.

"A No Life Queen never tries to intimidate anyone, Francis." The man jumped when he heard her use his first name. "Isn't that right, Quentin?" The little mans moustache bristled like an angry hedgehog.

"How did you get in here?" Asked Eldridge, nervously, trying to avoid making eye contact with the vampiress

"I came down the chimney, if you must know." Said Seras, brushing down the sleeves of her coat. "I can't walk through walls like my former master, but I can cling to them like glue. Comes in handy."

"I'm sure it does…" Said the shorter one, whose name was Henderson "err…so you say that you won't break the blood bond?"

"I'm not sure that you appreciate the difference between being a fledgling vampire and a No Life King or Queen. A fledgling has the constant presence of their master to support them through the most harrowing period of their unlife, whilst we…" She paused, searching for words "We are alone and naked in the dark. She would never be able to cope."

"But, err, may I call you Seras, by the way?"

"Call me whatever you want. I've been called enough things not to care anymore."

"Well Seras, I take it you do see the problems that your er, bond with Sir Hellsing has when compared to the command structure of the Hellsing organisation?"

"I take it that you are referring to the cruel irony that we both have absolute command over each other, she through the seals and I through the blood, correct?"

"Indeed…It could create problems…"

"Why?" she asked, turning away and strolling towards the offices tall Victorian windows. "I may drink blood, sleep all day in a coffin and crawl on walls, but I am still an obedient servant of the Crown. I will play along with your little masquerade to the letter, and take whatever orders my fledgling will give. If she finds herself unable to command me, I will command her to command me. And, when I think she's ready, I will sever our bonds. But," and at this she set her teeth into a feral snarl "not one second before."

"Very well, err, Miss Victoria" said the taller and less bold of the two "I suppose you know best."

She raised one eyebrow.

"You have no idea."

"Alucard!"

Integra had been searching for him for hours now, to no avail. His rooms deep in the cellars were empty, as was the rest of the underground complex, and she could not go up to the upper section, for her troops believed her to be recovering from a grievous injury in some hidden medical facility down here.

Damn him, where would he hide? He was probably lurking in the shadows of the mansion somewhere, or maybe he had gone off into the forests around the house. She could always stay in his room and wait for him…but no, that would be a bad idea. He would probably just go and sleep somewhere else, in the attic or something similar.

His reaction to her transformation by Seras had shocked her deeply. How was she lost to him? Secretly, as a teenage girl, she had fantasised about him, about the handsome, charming but unbelievably deadly monster, who she had the power to bend to her every whim through the seals and rituals her ancestor Abram had bound him with. The results, the less overtly sexual of them anyway, were looked in that little secret book in her desk. Hormonal ravings of a introverted teenager, she thought to herself, cursing. Twisted gothic romance fantasies born from the mind of a desperate seventeen year-old virgin, brought up studying dark magic and the undead. She had outwardly eschewed these as she had grown older, though still they remained there, somewhere in her secret inner heart…when he had offered her his blood, in the tower when she had lost everything, it had been so tempting…her darkest dream, to become a vampire, and walk the night with him for eternity, doing goodness knows what…But she had refused, grown strong, and, surely he had lost her when she had married Julian and conceived their son? She was no longer a virgin, and, as she knew from her long studies of lore, virginity was what linked sex and vampirism on the deepest level. For a male vampire to turn a female, she must be a virgin, and vice versa, otherwise they became ghouls. A non-virgin could only be turned by someone of the same gender as they. That peculiar by-law of supernatural biochemistry was how the FREAK chips had been able to turn anyone, even obvious non-virgins like the Valentine brothers.

But now…against all chance, she was a vampire. She had lost everything, her family, her honour, her pride, but at least she could now have him, she thought, she could fulfil that dark fantasy…

But instead, that anger, that anguish and malice. Why? She tried to picture his face, beautiful even in all that anger…but found that she couldn't. Odd, she had a good imagination, she could surely…no, she closed her eyes and she couldn't see what she knew she should be able to see: the wild black hair, the active, sensuous lips, the deep dangerous eyes, the hooked nose…it was as if someone had thrown a veil over her minds eye, all she saw when she imagined Alucard was a vague sense of red, a flash of orange tinted sunglasses and a fanged grin. She couldn't see him…she could see Seras all right, the soft crimson eyes, the short blonde hair, the curvaceous figure, the delicate hands, the broad sweep of the hips…

Oh god.

Oh god no.

Walter, Walter…the smell of tea, a circle of light from his monocle, neatness. Nothing more. Father…a rough beard, intense eyes with just a pink blur surrounding them…she went through more, an endless succession of blurs, shadows and half-realised sketches of people…but her…She could see every detail, every play of light and shadow on porcelain skin, every falling sweep of wild hair, every glint of eye and tooth, every movement, every mannerism, hanging there under her tightly shut eyelids. She could almost hear her softly accented voice in her ears, almost smell her: shampoo and blood, almost tangible. It was like she was there in the room, like she could feel her, like she could touch her…

She recoiled from herself, her eyes shooting open, and fell against a wall, clutching at the dank stonework with gloved hands.

Oh god.

Wherever she looked, there was nothing but the serenely smiling face of her master, Seras Victoria.

A/N: I know what you're thinking. It's a word with four letters, beginning in a Y and ending in an I, best remembered as the name of a character from the Dirty Pair anime.

If I have the guts to write this as it should be written, you could be right, to an extent. If possible I'll try and keep it staying PG-13. This goes for swearing and gore content as well.

Next chapter: Integra re-emerges as the leader of Hellsing. How long can she maintain appearances under the scrutiny of her employees, her fellow knights…and Iscariot?