A/N: YAH Finale! I hope that this has been enjoyed...thanks for all the wonderful advise and reviews.

He winked at her and removed her wrap, tilting her head to expose her neck to the pale moonlight. "Unfortunately, they could never quite perfect the formula. The lastround of testing performedin 1937 were a dismal failure. All of the test subjects died. Horrible, painful deaths." He took a step back from her and canted his head, gazing at the scene critically as if he were an artist positioning a model. "Those that were able to speak in the more advanced stages said that it felt as if their brains were on fire inside of their skulls. Now I ASK you, how does one know what that feels like? I am sure he was exaggerating."

Her mind raced - not that a slug could not have won against it at this particular moment. She cursed her arrogance and her stupidity for allowing this situation to occur, but did not dwell too long. Nathaniel reached now for the knife that he had brought with him, allowing its blade to flash in the moonlight. Her ice blue eyes caught sight of the runes inscribed on its blade, and she managed a feeble yet condescending laugh. "Where did... a child's toy ... Pagans-R-Us...?" Damn. Loosing words. Where the hell is my vampire?

His handsome face contorted into a terrible mask of rage from which most people would have recoiled in fear. "It's an ancient Celtic ceremonial dagger!" he fairly screeched as he lost some of his self control and lunged at her. He wiped a bit of spittle from his lip as he brandished the knife at her throat, his eyes wild around the edges. He voice became more wild and frenzied as he yelled. "Its ancient and its blessed and it will take your blood from you, and then I will consume it and then I will be more powerful than even your pet freak! The Queen and Country won't need YOU anymore! I will destroy all her enemies! I will be all-powerful!"

She did her damnedest to laugh as he continued his tirade, her icy eyes filled with hate and contempt. The effects of the drugs were becoming worse but her indomitable will refused to let him see that. She knew that this was a dangerous situation and that provoking him could either lead him to kill her now or to go into a tirade that would just prolong the attempt. It was a gamble but she refused to just lay there and die. Someone might come… surely Alucard was skulking around somewhere despite her direct order NOT to. Surely he had felt the absence of their usually powerful mind link. Then again, he also knows that you have spent countless hours perfecting ways to keep him out of your mind.

"Pitiful." She spat, or at least attempted to. "I expected … something half… intelligent … you, Nathaniel. How you… DO …disappoint."

At that he struck her hard across the face. She felt a sickening crack from her nose and the pain of a welt forming on her cheek, and then had blood trickling from the wound, a droplet of which fell to her lips. She tried in vain to convince her tongue to remove the offending droplet, but it had better things to do. Almost as soon as he had done this he straddled her on the bench, moving her head back into position, running his fingers through her hair. He bent low and smelled her in a most primal fashion.

"Hmmm... yes..." he growled softly. She was sickened to feel the press of his manhood against her as he shifted his weight to keep his balance as he raised both hands above his head. "Die now, Integra Hellsing, so that your blood may make me a god."

She refused to pass out now, knew that if she did she was finished. She gathered the last reserves of strength as he raised his little knife in the air, and managed to buck her hips and unbalance him as he brought the dagger savagely down in an attempt to drive it into her chest.

He screamed in frustration as he was dislodged and the blade plunged into the flesh of her upper arm by her shoulder. Liquid fire coursed through her arm and shoulder and she screamed, the sound coming out as a muffled squeak as the last of her strength was sapped by the searing pain. He hit her across the face again, harder, as he regained his position astride her and roughly pulled the dagger from its sheath in her arm. Her stomach rolled with nausea at the pain.

She tried one more time, feebly, to call out for her monster, to command him to come to her even though she was sure that he could not hear her. She imagined him sulking in his coffin, blissfully unaware that she was being killed. She pushed one last, final time on the seals that still bound them even if the empathetic link was no longer there, demanding that he present himself to her NOW… his Master called him, DEMANDED his presence and that he uphold the pact forged between himself and the Van Helsings by the dark and archaic alchemy of the past…

Vaguely, though pain-and-drug numbed senses, she recognized the weight that was pressing down on her shifted and then disappeared completely. She forced herself to remain conscious, and when there was a small yelp and the flicker of shadows she demanded her eyes to function, to look around and identify the new threat. In the vaguest of senses she saw a blackness punctuated by dozens of deep red eyes, and even though her eyes refused to blink or her muscles refused to twitch, she managed a satisfied smirk.

Her eyes slipped closed and her mind went oddly silent as the full effects of the drugs hit her. It was amazing to her as she floated in the ether of half-consciousness that her involuntary systems of breathing and heartbeat were still functioning. There were vague noises of the squishy and screaming variety all around her and then a shattering silence. Finally, a familiar presence loomed just beyond her senses.

"What... took... long?" she managed in a feeble yet demanding whisper. His reply was a low chuckle, and though she could not see it, a shake of his head as he gazed down at her.

"Invictus," he accused, softly, yet with an odd affection to his voice. "Will you survive?"

"Philistine," she managed to shoot back with a small semblance of amusement. She had the sensation of moving and then felt the slosh of coldness as, for some reason, she slipped off her bench and onto the cold stones below her. Wait... cold yes, but not hard. No, infinitely comfortable, gentle, and secure. She could not quite figure out what she was laying on, but whatever it was enveloped her completely in its chill touch. "I thought... you said… wouldn't come…" It was definitely an arched challenge despite the effort that it took to even speak at all. Her body had the sensation of motion, and it was then that she smelled his scent all around her.

He shrugged gently, so as not to cause her more pain as he lifted her to his arms. "You amuse me." he said by way of explanation. His voice was soft and cool and reassuring, almost tender. His breath brushed against her skin as he boldly reached out to lick the splatters of her blood that painted her cheeks and her lips. "Mmmm… " he purred darkly. "Delicious." The vibrations echoed from his chest and through her. Had she been able she would have shivered. "Sleep now, my Master. I shall see you safely home."

As if I have a choice. Safe in her monster's arms, she finally fell into unconsciousness.

He tightened his grip upon her as he willed himself to be surrounded by the nights concealing shadows. Quicker than the ticks between time he transported them towards the Hellsing estate. "Silly girl, my Integra..." he continued, gazing down at her tenderly. "You should know by now that I will always come for you."

"... and in other news, the search continues for Lord Nathaniel Billings who disappeared from the Queen's summer gala this past week-end. Allegedly he was last seen exiting the Gala after having received a phone call from an unknown source. Reports of his whereabouts should be made to the London Police..."

Walter shook his head and turned off the tellie, still rather miffed that Billings would have abandoned Sir Integra at the ball like he did. As he moved towards the kitchens to prepare her afternoon tea he was just thankful that Alucard had been there when she fell on the wet cobbles of the garden. He shuddered to think how long she would have lain there if her monster had not been there to bring her home. He put on the kettle, wondering exactly what type of etiquette it was that these young aristocrats were taught these days.

Fin