Integra nodded and folded her hands. "I will consider it. You are dismissed, Captains."

Seras' face contorted for a moment, as if both minds had attempted to say something at the same time. Something sorted out and they managed to take turns.

"But Sir!"

"But Sir!"

Integra raised an eyebrow. Seras' mouth shut and s/he stood at attention. "I am still in command here, and I am not yet convinced that the procedure will fix things. Nor am I still completely sure your benefactor can be trusted. I will notify you when my decision has been made. Dismissed."

Seras (Pip?) saluted and left the room.

Integra lit her cigar and puffed at it thoughtfully. "Well?" she said finally.

"You know my feelings, Sir Integra," Walter said. "The man cannot be trusted."

"I don't know," Alucard said, "It might be interesting."

"Is such a thing even possible, Alucard?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Frankenstein knows more about vampires and vampirism than I do."

Integra raised an eyebrow at Alucard's comment.

"You are a human, Master, but can you tell me everything about how the human body functions? Can you tell me, for example, how the digestive system works? How the liver, the kidneys, the stomach, the intestines, all work exactly, down to the cellular level? I can't. I haven't studied it. My business is warfare, his business his science and understanding. If you truly want my advice, Sir Hellsing, I would say let him do it."

Integra puffed at her cigar for a few more moments. "Is it possible that you merely advocating this because you believe he may be able to make you even more powerful than before?"

Alucard remained silent.

"It had not escaped my notice that you have been researching black magic, Alucard. Was your battle with "Her" so humiliating?"

Alucard's eyes narrowed. "I can hardly consider myself an adequate weapon if I need assistance of any sort."

"Nevertheless, you did, laddie," an accented voice said as Anderson stepped out of the shadow he was lurking in. "And as much as I hate to admit it, the abomination is right. We could always used another hand around here, and the Captain is quite skilled."

Integra smirked for a moment. "This is an unprecedented event. If we hadn't already gone through it, I might suggest that the Apocalypse was nigh." She stubbed out her cigar and looked at the three men standing in front of her desk. The vampire king who had been captured by her ancestor years ago to serve them. The servant who had been captured, turned into a vampire, and returned to them. The Priest who had forsaken all for his creed, had been excommunicated, and sought refuge with his enemy.

"So, I have two yays and one nay."

"Of course, the decision ultimately lies with you, Sir Integra," Walter said.

Integra pushed back from her desk and stared at her ceiling thoughtfully. "I'll allow it. But I want Walter to be present during all of Frakenstein's activities. If he attempts any foul play, you have my permission to decapitate him."

Walter nodded curtly and the corners of his mouth ticked upwards slightly at the idea.

"Dismissed," Integra said.

Click click click.

The Prisoner looked up at the sound of shoes walking along the long corridor. He smiled languidly. "Ah, Butler. Just in time. I was thinking an A positive for tonight. I know that it's common, but there are times when one feels the need for something common."

Walter stared down his nose at the Prisoner, a look of utter disgust on his face. "I have a message from Sir Integra."

The Prisoner smiled and drew his knees up to his chest. "Yes, Butler? I am all ears."

"…She has decided to permit the operation that will separate Captains Bernadette and Victoria into different bodies. You may have whatever materials, equipment, and personnel you require."

The Prisoner waved a hand. "I require no personnel. They will only get in the way." He slid a piece of paper across the floor where it stopped, just brushing the bars. "That is what I require."

Walter knelt down and picked up the paper. "How did you?"

The Prisoner held up the copy of Mary Shelly's book. The front page was ripped out. "It was a trite and over-romantacised account anyway," he said, tossing the book into the center of the cell. "Sir Hellsing would be better without it."

"And for a writing utensil?"

The Prisoner started laughing. "Ask me no questions," he said, "and I will tell you no lies."

Walter's hand suddenly shot out and microfilament wires wrapped around the Prisoner. A quick yank and the Prisoner flew from his seated position and slammed into the bars. Walter bent over and stared into the Prisoner's face.

"Do you want to kill me, Butler? Do you desire revenge for what I did to you? Kill me, then. It will only prove the Major right. He said that eventually we wouldn't need to put blocks on you at all. That you would come to love the killing as we did. He saw it in you. Prove him right! Start the killing again!"

Walter grunted and let the wires go slack. As he collected them, he stared into the reflective planes of the Prisoner's glasses. "I am to watch over all your work. Every aspect, every stitch, every screw, every microchip. And if you hurt either of those children, your life is forfeit." He turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Oh Butler? Could I have a nice Merlot served with my blood tonight? I find that it helps offset the taste of the transfusion!"

Anderson grumbled as he rolled up his sleeve. "Does the prat know how difficult is for me to give blood?"

Walter shrugged as he started to wipe Anderson's arm with antiseptic.

"There's no point in doing that," Anderson said. "I can't get sick."

"It's not for you," Walter said as he stuck the needle in. "It's to keep the sample pure." He drew the blood and tried to pull the needle out. To his complete and utter lack of surprise, it was stuck tight.

Anderson sighed. "The skin healed around the needle again, didn't it?"

The shovel clanked as it hit the hard wood of the coffin.

"Does anyone besides me find this just a little creepy?" a soldier asked, as he leaned on his shovel and wiped his brow.

"What, digging up the Cap's body so that we can put him back into it?"

"Yeah. That. That's really creepy."

The other Wild Geese member shrugged and continued digging. "Well, it does seem kind of unnatural, but what is natural around this crazy place?"

"Yeah, but it's a good kind of unnatural," his buddy replied as he jumped back into the pit. "I mean, our kind of unnatural, naturally unnatural. Like Big Red or the girly."

"Well what about that reject from the Vatican? He's not naturally unnatural, is he?"

"Yeah, but have you seen that bloke drink? Man who drinks like that can't be all bad."

The mercenary glanced over and Seras(Pip?) who was standing a few meters off, watching out for roving vampires. They had steadfastly avoided looking at the grave ever since their arrival.

"Wonder what's going on inside that pretty little head?"

"Can't be good," the other mercenary replied. "Oy, put the rope under this thing!"

"I guess it can't be," his friend replied as he ran a rope under the coffin. "Otherwise we wouldn't be out here."

"Shame really. I mean, they used to be in love, right?"

"You were there. Same as me. He died for her. He died for her. I mean, I knew he had a noble streak, but I dunno if I saw that coming."

"And she gave up her humanity to save him. If that's not love I don't know what is. What happened to 'em?"

The mercenary sighed. "Dunno. Maybe… maybe it's because they're soldiers. During crisis, or tragedy, is when they are at their absolute best. And during peace…?" He shook his head. "C'mon. Radio the other soldiers so we can lift this thing out."

Seras lay in her coffin, staring up at the wooden ceiling.

So, I'll take the night shift? Seras said.

Yep. Pip answered. You command them during the night. I command them when the sun's out.

And thus we don't have to deal with each other ever again if we don't want to.

Exactly. Why would we anyway?

They were silent for a while.

Last night together. Pip finally said.

No more of your unreasonable and ridiculous demands.

No more of your incessant, non-stop whining. Honestly any more angst out of you and I'm going to lose my metaphorical lunch.

Thank you very much. You try living with someone who's main goal is to have sex with you. Or mind sex. Or whatever. I mean, honestly do you even thinkof anything else? I am not a whore that you bought with your life!

I do not think about sex all the time! I merely suggested that we should try, because you might like it and it'd be something we could enjoy together! You're so bloody immature and frightened of sex! Aren't you ever going to get over what they did to your mother?

I don't believe you! You're just a heartless mercenary when all the chips are down, aren't you? Nothing worth fighting for but the almighty coin? Scum of the earth that don't care for anything beyond their arses and their dicks? Bloody uncaring French man-whore!

Shove it, you whiny, sexually frustrated, English sow!

English sow? Now you have to steal you insults from Enrico Maxwell? Are you that pathetic?

In the words of your countrymen, cherie, sod off.

Silence again.

Well? Pip finally said.

Well what?

Aren't you going to shove me off into the little box somewhere and try to fall asleep before I come back so you can get a good night's sleep?

I thought I'd be nice and let you stay out of the box tonight, seeing as it's the last night and all. Unless you particularly want some time to yourself?

I'll suffer, thank you. What a benevolent gesture on your part. For an unholy, damned, bloodsucking freak, your certainly are generous.

Walter found it particularly disconcerting when the Prisoner hummed as he worked. He was finishing up the final touches on Captain Bernadette's skull and had been humming the same tune repeatedly for the past hour.

Walter couldn't, for the life of him, place it, but something about it sent chills up his spine.

"It's the tune I hummed while I was working on you," the Prisoner suddenly said. "It probably seeped it's way into your subconscious. I doubt you remember, due to the mental blocks. So sad that I never got to finish them. Then again," he said as he turned to Walter. "Did I really need to?"

Walter scowled. "Get back to work."

The Prisoner smiled and resumed stitching. "Oh Victor," he said. "How flawed your procedure was. But your theory, yes, your theory was sound. Your theory was genius. I will do wondrous things with your theory. After all, 'I only see far because I have stood on the shoulders of giants'".