Order 27: Amicable Relations

By: SleepyNinja

Disclaimer: Don't own Hellsing and not making a dime. I'm not even making any pennies off of this whatsoever. The entire idea goes out to the creator of the show itself, not me. Kohta Hirano is my God.

A/N: Reviews are much appreciated. You know you want to.


"I don't get it." Seras looked over Jack. His legs hadn't grown back that much like they should have. "Are you trying to not have your legs grow back?" She waited for a response. "Jack! Pay attention."

The battered man groaned in response.

"I know you're awake." She looked him over, and to his IV. "You're still on the morphine aren't you? Christ." She yanked the bag of morphine off the stand, causing it to tremble. "If those legs aren't back in two hours you better start thinking about regenerating your arms."

With her threat she turned and walked out of the room. Integra wanted to go on patrol around the city, just in case.


Jack was vaguely aware of horrendous pain shooting through him as the morphine wore off. He gritted his teeth and after a few minutes of that, just starting quietly groaning in agony.

After what seemed like an eternity it subsided. He looked down at himself. The wounds in his chest had closed up, his left arm only felt broken in a dozen places, and he had gained a new right foot, and more of his left leg. Calling it a small victory he tried to open his damaged eye, felt a horrendous stinging sensation, then quickly shut it and decided that was a bad idea.

He grabbed the feeding tube from the IV and yanked it out of his veins. He grabbed the IV bag, tore it open, and drank the blood inside. He sighed in relief.

He pondered on what to do for a moment. "Oh I have to see how they try to explain this." He said to himself, pushing his way out of his coffin towards the couch. He hopped a few times due to only having one foot, and then jumped over the back. He grabbed the remote control from between the cushions and turned on the BBC.

"The death toll has risen from its earlier estimated count of 500 to an estimated 600. The aftermath of the attack still has emergency services scrambling to help injured and clean up possible safety hazards around the city."

Jack listened to the anchor continue as pictures of destroyed areas flashed across the screen.

"The government released details about the terrorist attack two days ago, saying that no group has taken responsibility, but all possible leads are being followed.

"The pilot and crew of a lone military helicopter that first arrived to defend London against the attack are still unknown. Some are afraid that it was destroyed once an military unit was called in to repel the invaders and responded with artillery, or during the air strike that followed. The government has denied any knowledge of any helicopter, saying that 'the earliest response that arrived on the scene was an army unit that responded with artillery was drilling outside of the city.'"

"People believe anything these days," he said to himself.


"I'm coming in now. You better have legs." She pushed the door open and found Jack on the couch.

"Hello my little artillery unit," he said with a smug grin.

"Bloody hell you've been watching the news."

"Yep."

"At least you have legs. Well hurry up and get packed. We leave in five hours."

"What now?"
"I'll explain later."


Seras stepped out of the helicopter onto the deck of the H.M.S. Eagle. People were running back and forth doing their jobs, probably unpacking Alucard, who had refused to ride in the helicopter unless he was in his coffin. She took a few steps forward so the others could get out.

Jack stumbled off the helicopter. He was feeling a bit seasick and it wasn't getting any better. He saw an officer coming out from the inside. Not a British officer for sure.

The officer got within earshot, traded salutes with Seras and Jack. He took off his brimmed hat, uncovering thinning white hair, and wild eyebrows. "I'm Major John Clutter of the Paranormal Bureau. Welcome aboard."


Preview:

Jack: Why the hell did this take so long?

Seras: Poor author had a dose of alcohol poisoning.

Jack: Pfft. Wuss.

Order 28: A Firm Kick


A/N: Revieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Do it.

A/N: A lame excuse for a chapter? You bet it is.