Summary: Never! It took you to make me realise!

Crossover: Bastard!!, Slayers

Disclaimer: I don't own Bastard!!, Slayers, Hellsing, or Buffy the Vampire Shagger. Although, if the respective owners want to swap for a couple of CDs that's fine.

Feedback: Yeah, baby!

Pre-fic Comments:

'Gave Up' by NIN has a truly neato music vid... Words in Japanese are in "* *" speech marks.

* * *

Willy polished a glass while his clientele sat despondently. Halloween sucked, for them -- it was harder to spot dinner. It was pretty good for him, though, as he pretty much sold as much beer as he could handle on nights like tonight.

He looked up as the door opened, then shut. What looked like a guy with long, silver hair and a chick with a helluva figure and the clothes (or semi-lack thereof) to show it off sat at the bar.

"What'll it be?," Willy asked civilly. No need to be rude, after all.

"White wine, dry," the woman laughed. "Give me your best, barkeep!"

Inwardly, Willy smiled and clicked his heels. His best wine was a few millenia old and from another dimension -- it had cost him a minor fortune, and he sold sips of it for major fortunes.

"Sake for me," the man said. "This is on the house, get me?"

"Er, no it ain't," Willy said boldly. "See, this is a business, not a charity."

The man wordlessly grinned like Satan himself, baring sharp teeth as he held up a palm, a lick of fire dancing above it.

"You bastard!," Willy cursed, reaching for the third best bottle of wine and the second best bottle of sake.

* * *

"No," Drusilla pouted. "It isn't safe for Spikey-poo to go out tonight... Miss Edith has been telling me things."

"What would that be, pet?," Spike asked. "Nothing happens on Halloween, safe as houses."

"She's gone," Drusilla whispered into his ear. "The nasty Slayer has gone, and the Ice Lady has come to Sunnydale."

"Sounds perfect to me," Spike smirked. "Time to go a-huntin'."

"No!," Drusilla implored, taking Spike's hands in hers. "It isn't safe."

"Dru, I'll take some of the minions if it's that bad," Spike frowned. "Luv, I have to go to check this out. If the Slayer has gone, then we still need to find something to put some colour in your cheeks. Figuratively speaking."

* * *

Integra frowned at the phone. She had only been able to afford a short transatlantic phone call, and the number to the Hellsing Estate had rendered a disconnected tone. She whirled, drawing the Walther as she heard a crunching of gravel and no sound of breathing.

"Easy there," the vampire said. "C'mon, Buffy, everything's gone crazy around here."

"I am Integra Hellsing, vampire, and I destroy your kind," Integra said, putting a bullet through each of his knees without blinking.

"AAAAARRRRGHH!," Angel screamed. The pain he felt from the two gunshots were unequalled in his two hundred and fifty years of unlife... far, far worse than anything he had ever experienced as part of the Scourge of Europe.

"Now," Integra said, putting an additional bullet through each of his elbows to disable the vampire, "tell me. Where am I, and what has happened?"

Angel was at her mercy, and was going to tell her anything she wanted anyway. It was clear that he'd get nothing but a swift ending if he held anything back, and that wouldn't help Buffy.

* * *

Ranma had a wide grin on his face. He'd managed to get some hot water from some really nervous looking America-jin woman, and all he had to do now was find a way back to Japan, and Nerima. He decided to try and hide away on one of those 'plane' thingies -- swimming over oceans was stuff he'd only do if his old man was really pushing him.

At the moment, though, he was disabling the monsters running around the city with some hits to the head. They didn't seem very strong, for monsters. Man, he sure hoped that he was gonna get some money or something for this, he was starving!

He stopped as he turned a corner. Some chick was torturing someone!

* * *

Integra looked to the side, then swiftly ducked as a foot almost kicked her in the head.

"*Stupid torturing sicko!,*" a male voice yelled in Japanese. She remembered it from lessons with Walter, her servant. "*Get away from him!*"

"*He is a monster,*" Integra said simply. "Kyuuketsuki."

Ranma slowed to a stop. "Honto?"

Integra drew a large silver cross from her jacket, pressing it against the suited vampire's neck. Smoke rose from it as it burnt the demon's flesh. The blonde, female knight then tossed it to Ranma, who frowned. The undead liked preying on the poor and homeless, and it had been amongst them that his father Genma had stayed with during their long training trip while he had been growing up.

"*What the hell is goin' on?*"

Angel panted, trying to stay conscious against the added brief pain of the holy cross. He couldn't understand a word that the two were saying, as his gang of merry torturers had never really gotten past England or Europe.

"You have to let me go," he said around the pain. "I need to help stop this!"

"It's a shame that that bloodsucker isn't here," Integra muttered. "I'll have him eating garlic for the rest of his unlife for deserting me like this!"

* * *

Post-fic Comments:

Integra is the leader of the Royal Protestant Knights, and a knight, according to manga. (V1C4.)