Diane shot straight up, nearly falling off the table. The room was black, the kind of intense dark that comes from being underground. Shivering, Diane fumbled with her coat and finally found her lighter. Flicking it on, she spotted the candle sitting on the chair. She slid off the table and lit the candle, sighing as a faint glow surrounded her. Voices echoed in her mind, male voices raised in anger, using words that made her shiver, and mixed up in all of it, a faint female moan. Diane tunneled her fingers through her hair, trying to shake the voices. It had been a dream, just a dream. The reassurance didn't stop the shivers and she realized she was cold. Boosting herself back onto the table, she wrapped her coat around her shoulders and fished out her cigarettes. Lighting up, she inhaled the spicy smoke and sighed. Sitting cross-legged, elbows propped on her knees, she stared at the coffin across the room.

Images played out in her head, all from the same perspective. Peering in a window at two women; one black-haired, one fair; bending over the brunette in a graveyard, anticipation strong, only to be interrupted by the blonde; finding the brunette's crypt blocked and knowing who was responsible. Oh, the rage! She had been furious and vowed vengeance that very night, raising her fist to the moon. It hadn't taken long to find the blonde. She was with the men responsible. One she had employed and treated with respect, turned against her! The plans were not hindered, despite the efforts of the men. A few setbacks, nothing more. Then the joy of finding the blonde unattended and vulnerable. How sweet she had tasted!

Diane shivered violently and shoved the burning end of the cigarette into her arm. Her eyes cleared and she sighed. Had she fallen asleep again? Or was it something else? She turned her back on the coffin and put the cigarette back in its case. It was only half smoked, she'd finish it later. Dusting off her arm, she frowned at the burn, already blistering a little. It hurt. She sighed and stretched out on the table, head propped on her armor and ankles crossed, keeping her burned arm away from her body. The candlelight didn't penetrate to the walls or ceiling. Diane began singing softly to herself, an old song from America. She had been teased by her brothers and sister, the old gang, for her fondness of American music. Tears gathered in her eyes. They were all dead now. Every last one, gone forever. She was alone, the prisoner of a vampire. Diane turned her head and glared at the coffin. In the hands of the enemy, subject to his compulsions and whims. Maybe the Master would be more reasonable and let her go. Diane rolled to her side, curled up and went back to sleep.

Arucard opened his eyes and smiled. Step one complete. He lifted the lid of his coffin and sat up, turning to check on Diane. She was asleep on the table, barely illuminated by the candle sitting on the chair. He rose and walked over, studying her face. Sleep tended to soften a human's features. Diane was no exception; the faint frown lines between her eyebrows were gone. Arucard smirked at the feelings rising in his undead chest. Contrary to popular opinion, he experienced emotions. Anger, loneliness, anticipation, pleasure, concern, all of these he had intimate knowledge of. Now, looking down at Diane, he felt the pleasure and anticipation surge through him. He reached out, smoothed back some hair from her cheek. His fingers drifted down to the collar. It appeared seamless, about three fingers thick, edged in a rope pattern. It was just loose enough to allow swallowing and talking easily, but too tight for fingers to slip under. He tried out of curiosity, ignoring the burns. A hand closed around his wrist and lifted. He looked up and saw Diane staring at him. Green eyes clashed with red.

"You don't have the right." She said softly, pushing his hand back.

"When will I?" He asked, just as softly. Diane sat up.

"It is my decision."

"Of course." Arucard slid his arm through her grip until they were holding hands, then brought her hand up and kissed the back of it. She shivered, a wry smirk twisting her mouth. Bargain made and sealed.

"We're leaving now." Diane nodded, pulled her hand free and slid off the table. She hissed as her bare toes met stone. Grabbing her socks and boots, she hurriedly put them on, then stood and donned her coat. Arucard took her arm as she stood and guided her through the door and upstairs. Diane kept up her prisoner act. A lieutenant met them in the main hall with tickets for the 7:05 to London.

"A car is ready to take you to the station, sir." The lieutenant said, handing over several blood packs. Arucard stashed them in his coat.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Come along, Diane."

"You don't have to rub it in." She muttered, marching along beside him. Arucard laughed all the way to the car. He buckled her into the back seat and slid in beside her. Diane turned away, staring out the window as they drove through Paris.

"Never been here?" He asked casually, draping his arm over the back of the seat. Diane didn't respond. Arucard smirked at the driver, who chuckled and made an offhand comment about tourists in French. Diane responded, also in French, wondering at the driver's parentage. Arucard tapped her shoulder in warning. She hunched her shoulders, muttering under her breath.

"She needs to be taught a lesson." The driver grumbled in English.

"I will inform Sir Elizabeth." Arucard reassured the Frenchman. They arrived at the station. Arucard helped Diane out of the car, nodded to the driver and linked her arm through his again. No need for her to march around looking like she was cuffed. They were getting enough odd looks from their outfits, the contrast between his red and gray and her black and silver striking in the bright lights. Commuters and tourists gave them a wide berth as they walked to the platform. Diane's eyes darted around, taking in everything.

"Is there a smoking section on the train?" She asked, frowning at a no smoking sign.

"I don't smoke." Arucard sniffed. Diane blinked at him. Their train opened for boarding. Arucard moved quickly, dragging her to the front of the line. The humans parted around them. Even the conductor was nervous.

"Is there a smoking car?" Arucard asked.

"Oui. At the end of the train."

"Merci." Arucard took the stubs and headed for the right car, holding Diane's hand. He could feel her eyes boring into his back and smirked. She was so easy to read. They reached the car. Arucard gave her the window seat, which earned him another look. Once they were seated, Diane pulled out her half-smoked cigarette and lit up. Arucard watched as she took a drag.

"My previous master used to smoke Dutch cigars. Yours smell more pleasant."

"Cloves." Diane stared out the window at the flying walls. "Clove mix, actually."

"Ah, yes. I knew a woman who smoked cloves. She made them herself."

"Really? Did she sell them?" Diane turned, looking surprised and pleased. Arucard's lips turned up in a sadistic smile.

"She died over 60 years ago." Diane slumped back in her chair.

"I think you delight in tormenting me." She muttered, smoking.

"Would you care if I didn't?"

"We both know what you are. You can't help it anymore then I can help being female." Diane stubbed out her cigarette into the tin and snapped it closed.

"Permission to find a w/c and some food?"

"Permission granted." Diane rose and headed for the end of the car. Arucard waited exactly 30 seconds, then followed. He smirked when she whipped around.

"You can't follow me in here. Even a prisoner deserves some privacy." Arucard leaned his shoulder right next to the w/c door, folded his arms. Diane huffed and stomped in. Arucard chuckled and bared his fangs at two British women that came up.

Diane stared into the small mirror. Her hair was tangled and she looked worn. Grumbling, she began finger-combing her hair.

"Can you believe the nerve of that man?"

"Impossibly rude. Those teeth made me nervous. Who does he think he is, guarding the door like that? I thought he was going to block us." Diane glanced over at the speakers as they disappeared into stalls. She smirked and continued working on her hair. The women came out and split to either side of her.

"He's waiting for me." Diane said, glancing left and right. Both women jerked and stared at her.

"I'm a prisoner."

"Nonsense!" The one on the left cried after a moment. "If that was the case, there would be a female guard in here with you."

"No." Diane shook her head gently. "I kill females." She bared her teeth at the shocked woman and headed for the door. Both dashed for the other side of the room, cowering. Diane paused at the door and looked over her shoulder.

"Next time, run for the door. Your chances for escape are better." She walked out and met a smirking vampire.

"Did you enjoy that?" He asked, looking her over.

"That was for your benefit."

"Oh?"

"You're not the only one capable of scaring the mundanes." Diane headed toward the engine. Arucard trailed behind her, snickering. They reached the snack bar. She glanced at Arucard.

"I don't suppose you have money." Arucard folded his arms.

"I have no need for it."

"Oh, that's right. You're kept." Diane turned back to the bemused vendor and ordered several sweet pastries and a large coffee. She fished out her wallet and handed over a card to pay for the food. Arucard waited until she had her order and card.

"Back to your seat." He prompted, poking her gently in the shoulder. She glared at him, then turned to the vendor.

"Are we allowed to eat in our seats?" She asked sweetly. The vendor glanced between them.

"Yes ma'am."

"Thank you." Diane turned and marched back to the smoking car, Arucard on her heels. They reclaimed their seats. Diane took her time arranging her goodies on her lap, putting the coffee in the built in cup-holder. Arucard pulled out a blood bag and sipped slowly.

"What is Sir Elizabeth like?" Diane asked suddenly, tearing open a pastry. Arucard glanced at her.

"She is strong."

"Physically or mentally?"

"Both."

"I see." Diane ate thoughtfully, staring into space. A female Master with an archaic title. It made poetic sense, but not what she was looking for. She wasn't sure how to phrase her questions without arousing Arucard's suspicions. As she finished her meal, she decided to simply wait and see. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Summary execution?

They arrived in London without incident. A car met them at the station and drove them to the Hellsing manor. Arucard kept his arm around Diane the entire time, earning himself several dirty looks. He returned each look with a fangy smile. Arriving at the front gate, Arucard helped Diane out and escorted her to the front door. Bernard, the second Angel of Death, greeted them.

"Welcome home, Lord Arucard. Good evening, Miss Diane." Bernard said, bowing slightly. Arucard released Diane and poked her in Bernard's direction.

"He is in charge of you for the next hour. I will return then." Arucard nodded to Bernard and disappeared. Diane glared at the empty space and snorted.

"If you'll come with me, Miss Diane. We took the liberty of preparing a room for you, as well as a change of clothes."

"Thorough of you." Diane said, following Bernard up the stairs.

"The Hellsing Organization prides itself on taking good care of everyone who walks through the front door."

"Even prisoners?"

"Especially prisoners." Bernard opened a door. "The bath is to your right. There is a shower if you prefer. The clothes are laid out on the bed." Diane walked into the room, looking all around. The furnishings ran to masculine colors and styles, but it looked comfortable.

"If you need anything, feel free to ring." She turned to see Bernard pointing at a bell-pull. "Lord Arucard will be back in precisely one hour. Please be ready."

"Thank you, Bernard. This is very kind of you."

"You're welcome, Miss Diane." Bernard bowed himself out of the room. Diane walked over to the bed and fingered the clothes. Her eyebrows quirked. Sir Elizabeth had expensive taste. Should she really be surprised?

"Almost too much luxury for a street rat." She muttered and headed into the bathroom. A clawfoot tub had been upgraded at some point to include a rain style showerhead. Diane stripped down, taking off her cuffs and leaving the collar on. She showered quickly, using the supplies available and breathing a quick sigh of relief at the lack of scent. Drying off, she wrapped a towel around her hair and padded back to the bedroom, taking her dirty clothes with her. She put on the suit, transferring her belongings from her coat into the various pockets. After several attempts, she finally managed to tie the tie into a full Windsor knot. Going back to the bathroom, she toweled her hair as best she could and hunted around until she found a comb. She combed out her hair and glared at herself in the mirror.

"Should've put it up last night. Too late now." Tossing the comb on the vanity, she smirked at herself.

"Stating the obvious. That's the human in you. Looking all swell now and for what? If you're lucky they'll sentence you to death. If you're unlucky, they'll throw you in prison for a few years. I almost wish for some makeup." She chuckled at that, snapped her cuffs on and walked back into the bedroom. Spreading her clothes neatly out on a chair, she prowled the room. It had the usual furnishings, all solid oak and brass fittings. The bed was a modest four poster, made up with simple blue linens. Diane opened the curtains and found the windows were nailed shut. She smirked, looking down. A guard strolled by on patrol. Turning back to the room, she studied the ceiling, over the bed, around the bureau. If there was electronic surveillance, it was well concealed. Diane shrugged and sat on the bed. There was no point in poking around. She hummed for a while, then sang out loud, putting her heart into the plaintive tune. It wasn't long before Arucard appeared beside her.

"It is time." He held out his hand. She took it and rose to her feet, head high. Arucard looked her over, smirked and tucked her arm through his. He led her through his portal until they were almost in the study. Diane could see a couple dancing in front of a large desk. Arucard yanked her back slightly. She gasped and he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Hush. They'll hear you." Music filtered through the open portal and Diane's eyes almost bugged out. That was one of her favorite songs from her teens! The couple's dancing was smooth and coordinated, obviously the result of lots of practice. Diane's gaze moved to the faces. Sir Elizabeth, it had to be, was smiling up into the eyes of an Italian man, who returned her rapt look fully. Diane squirmed and yanked Arucard's hand off her mouth.

"Let me go." She whispered. "They don't want to be disturbed."

"Watch, little thief, and learn." Diane turned to glare and huffed in frustration. In the nothingness all she could see was his glasses and eyes, gleaming. He smiled, fangs showing stark white in the blackness swirling around them. She aimed a kick and missed. Arucard's eyes shifted to stare at her.

"Do not do that again. Now, watch." Diane's head moved and she sighed. Bloody compulsion. The couple was twirling around the room as the song wound down. The Italian dipped Elizabeth and followed her down for a kiss. Diane forced her eyes to close.