I told ye this wasn't a surrender.

Walter Dornez pulled his face away from the paladin's body and turned his head from side to side – a hound scenting for danger.

Don't ye know anything? Ye should know this, Walter.

The black-clad man was preternaturally still. An outside observer would have had no clue as to the inner dialogue he was conducting.

Anderson? You should not be out and about like this.

Ye mean I should be another damned soul ye use to feed yerself and fuel yer unholy crusade?

Walter felt a pressure inside himself and tried to push back. What are you doing? Get out! He fought to relegate Anderson's soul to the emptiness inside himself that he thought of as the "oubliette." It was where he imprisoned all of his other victims. Anderson belonged there with Takagi and Maxwell.

Anderson was not so easily moved. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to make myself at home. It's pretty empty in here, just what I'd expect from a demon. What happened to yer feelings and loyalties?

Walter could feel Anderson nosing around inside his head, violating him more thoroughly than he had violated the nun or the priest who had been his guests.

They were yer captives, not yer guests.

God damn you Anderson, get out of my mind! Walter snarled and pushed at the presence again. His temper was flaring and he felt fear for the first time since Millennium had finished their work with him.

Ye'll not blaspheme in my home.

Your home? This is my mind! You do not belong here!

I belong here. This is my home and I'll be here for the rest of yer existence, vampire. Ye worked for Hellsing for the better part of sixty years – ye know this lesson at least as well as I do. Blood is coin of the soul and willing blood…

Willing blood? I took your blood after defeating you. You were not willing!

And that's where ye're wrong. I'll do anything, anything to protect God's children from an abomination such as yerself. I gave my blood to ye in those final moments. I chose this. Ye asked me yerself, "Damned, doomed or dead?" I was damned long before ye started yer games; it was an easy choice to go with ye to keep fighting.

The silence drew out as Walter contemplated Anderson's words. It was true, a willing soul would have significantly greater power and influence than a stolen one. I'll let you go. You can go on to your afterlife.

Bodiless and breathless, Anderson snorted his contempt, A nice try, but no. Don't ye know that I am damned as many times over as ye are? I'm in no hurry to get on to Hell when I can stay and fight. First I'll finish my fight with ye, and then we'll take the battle to the rest of the beasts that walk God's earth.

•••

Why wasn't he moving? The watcher moved restlessly, worried that the vampire had become aware of his presence and was preparing to attack. He had watched Walter come and kill the guards around the Colosseum. He had seen the priest destroy the ghouls that the guards had become as well as the ghouls that Walter had brought with him.

He slipped through the shadows, moving as silently as he could, drawn in by a curiosity he could not control. He had to see what the vampire was doing.

When he was less than five meters away, he froze at a sudden movement from the figure he was stalking. Schrödinger was shocked when the kneeling butler produced a shining blade out of nowhere and cut the head off of the corpse of the man he had just killed.

The childlike vampire ducked behind a column and watched the vampire who had killed all of his Millennium compatriots, and now all of Iscariot's upper ranks, as he began to carry on what appeared to be an argument with himself.

"I say we kill Alucard now."

"We can't kill Alucard now, you fool. You know what he can do."

"Ye plan to kill him. How did ye plan to do it?"

"Through blood, of course. What else compels a vampire?"

"What game are ye playin'?"

"No game. It's right there in my head for you to see. I have the heart of his master; with the blood of his child, I have the components for the ritual needed to make him vulnerable."

"The vampire lass? Ye'll kill her to get to Alucard?"

"Why not? I've killed everyone else, haven't I? Even you."

Schrödinger had heard enough. The faintest breath of air filling the space he had just vacated marked his departure. He had to warn Seras. She didn't have the advantage against Walter that he did. Schrödinger was fairly confident that he was the only true immortal on the planet, but he wasn't willing to test that against Walter Dornez's frightful ingenuity if the butler found out that he'd failed to kill the catboy the first time around.

•••

Seras and Pip had had time to come to terms with their relatively unique living situation. They had their moments where they both wished for some space, some peace, some blessed privacy, but overall, they had learned to live together fairly harmoniously. It was a comfort in a life that was filled with bloodshed to have each other as constant companions.

However, this was one of those days when Seras would have paid Alucard in whatever currency he would accept if he could just get Pip out of her mind for a day. They hadn't been able to agree on anything from which political system was superior to which blood type was most appealing and Seras was ready to have a night's peace.

They were outside in the garden arguing about whether they should take her accrued vacation time and go on a Caribbean cruise (his vote, and Seras had not been happy to catch his thought about women in bikinis) or taking an Antarctic trek later that year (Seras was particularly pleased by the almost complete lack of daylight involved in the trip; it sounded practically idyllic for a vampire.)

Schrödinger stood silently behind a hedge and watched her arguing with herself. It was eerily reminiscent of the dialogue he'd just witnessed Walter having with himself. He gave strong consideration to the resemblance and frowned. The silver blade that Walter had brandished was the most disturbing part of the prior scene; the way Seras' accent shifted from English to French was the most disturbing part of this one.

"But chère, there are all female cruises. You wouldn't have to worry about men harassing you."

"You mean you wouldn't have to worry about men harassing me. Pip, I was there when you were reading about those all female cruises. They're all female because they're cruises for lesbians. I am not interested in women that way."

Pip? Schrödinger's mobile ears perked up and he leaned forward to try to satisfy his curiosity. Hadn't there been a Pip Bernadette with Hellsing? He tried to remember the dossiers he'd read on Hellsing's key personnel. Yes, a mercenary. He hadn't heard anything about this Bernadette since the war, though. So that was the other soul Zorin and he had seen when she tried her illusions on the girl that fatal last time.

"You don't have to be interested in women that way, I'll be interested enough for both of us."

Seras snorted in disgust, "Why do you always have to be so perverse?"

"Why do you have to be so prudish?"

She turned away from her argument at the sound of a cat choking on a hairball but saw no cat, just a nervous looking catboy who cleared his throat again and held up his empty hands. "I'm not here as an enemy." He gasped and went limp when she ran across the space between them and caught him by the throat.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now or feed you to Alucard? He would probably think you were delicious." Her accent shifted and she glared at him in a manner that was completely unlike the expression that had just been on her face, "Or maybe we should kill and eat you. It's the only way you're ever getting inside this pretty body."

"I helped you in London, even if you don't know it. The day that everyone I knew died, I still helped you." Schrödinger's voice was a strangled rasp. "Butler's coming for you next, and I wanted to warn you."

Seras froze and her grip slackened, "What?" Butler could only mean one person. She flashed back on the last time she'd seen Walter C. Dornez and his parting words, I still need to save you for later. Try not to get yourself killed, my dear. She pressed her fingers to her lips where he'd kissed her.

She released Schrödinger's throat and grabbed his arm instead, twisting it harshly up behind his back. "Tell me everything you know about Walter and what you mean when you say he's coming for me next."

Schrödinger winced, but it was better than having her ready to rip his throat out. "He's killed everyone important in Iscariot. He killed Alexander Anderson less than an hour ago and I heard him say that you were one of the keys to killing Alucard. He's going to use you to destroy your master and don't think he's going to leave you alive afterward."

•••

Seras unceremoniously dropped Schrödinger in a chair in front of Sir Vladimir's desk. "You need to hear what he has to say, Sir Vladimir."

Vladimir looked at the catboy before looking questioningly at Seras. "Why have you brought me a piece of garbage instead of disposing of it yourself?"

Schrödinger winced but stayed where he was. He'd paid attention to goings on at Hellsing as best he could, which wasn't overly well, but well enough to know who Sir Vladimir was. What he didn't understand was why people had ever taken him for human. He clearly was anything but.

Humans were so gullible.

That wasn't news to him. He was seventy years old and one of Doc's first successes. A qualified success, perhaps, but he was the first and his particular abilities had never been replicated. He'd had plenty of time to watch gullible humans suckered in by Millennium's promises of immortality

Schrödinger tried to look casual. There was no point in getting upset; he'd put himself here, hadn't he? "She brought me because I had information that was important to her and to Hellsing."

"Oh really, little one? Why don't you just go ahead and tell me, then, before I have Alucard come and eat you alive. You might have taken a bullet to the head from him, but you won't escape servitude to him if he takes you." Vladimir leaned back in his chair and smiled genially at Schrödinger.

Schrödinger knew evil and he knew threats. Despite Vladimir's very effective threat, the former Millennium member was not intimidated. "You don't have to try to scare me. I came here to tell you what was happening and I'm going to do it. Threatening me doesn't help you, it just makes me more likely to disappear when you aren't looking."

He kicked back in the chair and deliberately put his feet up on Vladimir's desk. He quickly and concisely related the story of Alexander Anderson's death and Walter's subsequent monologue. He looked at Seras when he finished and said, "He reminded me of you when he was doing that." He grinned at her when she scowled at him.

•••

Ye just get on a plane and travel? Don't people ask questions?

No, you dolt, they don't. If you spread around enough money and present a passport that looks about right, you can travel almost anywhere.

But people know vampires are real. How do ye get past that?

Walter smiled and handed his plane ticket to the ticketing agent and checked his bags. She was blissfully unaware of the fact that the handsome, well-dressed man who was smiling at her so cordially was a vampire who was carrying on a not overly friendly conversation with a disembodied priest who now lived in his head.

Alexander, I am beginning to think that you are truly irredeemably dense. With a pair of colored contact lenses and enough self-discipline to learn how to speak without flashing fangs, it's quite simple to move around in the human world. Especially since they still take their perceptions of vampires from Millennium's shock troops – those weaker specimens who couldn't even tolerate sunlight. All it takes is a moment in daylight, unpleasant though it is, to set almost anyone's mind at rest.

He walked quickly through the airport, easily passing through the security system after dropping his rings in the little basket for personal items and walking through the metal detector. The rings were a bit incongruous with his Brooks Brothers suit, but elicited nothing more than mild curiosity in the bored security agents. They were looking for guns and knives, not some man's jewelry and he put them back on with an internal smirk to his passenger.

See. I just took a weapon through security. After Millennium and the little trick those Muslim fanatics played in the United States, everyone says that airport security is tighter than ever. They were entirely oblivious, only looking for and seeing what they expected – with my weapons and with me. That's always the way with humans.

Why is it so easy for ye to put yer human past aside?

No doubt Millennium's long gone and not lamented Doctor would have an explanation that is more technical than mine. For me, though, the answer is simple. I'm not human. I'm not going to waste my time in useless angst. I'm not going to weaken myself by pretending to be something I'm not.

Walter sat in the first class lounge and opened a newspaper, which he cursorily scanned, but barely paid attention to.

What about –

Alexander, are you going to keep asking me questions you can just as easily get directly from my memories?

The more I move around inside yer memories, the harder it is to remember who I am. I'm not going to forget myself inside yer mind.

I only wish I could forget you.

The loudspeaker announced boarding for first class passengers and people traveling with small children from Rome to London. Walter stood behind a woman who was trying to juggle a toddler, car seat, diaper bag and her carryon single-handedly. The child stared over her shoulder at the man with the ponytail and monocle and gaped.

He reached out and chucked the child under the chin, "There's a good lad. Are ye being good for yer mum?"