Disclaimer: Still don't own Hellsing or anything associated with said anime/manga.
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Office Repair Blues
Chapter II
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Integra sighed happily, sinking back into cushioned comfort. Getting away from all that paperwork was a good idea, she thought happily to herself as she relaxed into the overstuffed armchair, the plainly decorated hotel décor surrounding her. Seras was sitting on the floor with a laptop, typing furiously.
"What are you doing?" Integra asked, noting the blonde vampire's mad clicking.
"A bit of creative writing," Seras answered.
"Oh? I didn't know you wrote," Integra commented, now interested. "What are you writing about?"
"I'm writing an account of Walter and Master fixing your office," Seras still didn't look up. "I even found this great site to publish it on. It's called or something like that."
"Really?" Integra mused, leaning down to glance over Seras's shoulder. "Who would want to read an account of Walter and Alucard fixing my office?"
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Meanwhile, Walter had made it back to the mansion with Alucard in tow causing minimal damage to the butler's sanity. After getting the brilliant idea to hit the vampire over the head with an aluminum baseball bat, he had stuffed him in the trunk and driven home in some much needed silence. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought this action all the way through, and not only had an extremely grumpy and sleep deprived vampire with homicidal tendencies, but now had an extremely grumpy and sleep deprived vampire with homicidal tendenceies and an extremely large headache.
And he listened to Alucard's grouching all the way through the mansion, up to Integra's office.
Password? the voice activated pinpad next to Integra's door inquired.
"Alucard has a pink teddy bear," Walter replied absently, examining a can of paint and wondering if it would be the right shade.
That was the last thought going through his head before he saw the pretty yellow birdies. Alucard stood over the butler with an aluminum baseball bat in tow.
"Uh…Whoops?"
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The phone in Father Maxwell's office began to ring. The priest groaned, sifting through mountains of paperwork to locate the ringing device. He was currently buried up to his glasses in papers and wanted nothing more than to go hide in a corner and get away from it all. Finally, he located the phone.
"Hello?"
"How long will it take you Catholic swine to reach England?" the irritated voice on the other end of the line inquired.
Father Maxwell blinked. He knew that voice. He knew that voice all too well. "…Alucard?" he said, more to himself than the vampire on the other end of the line.
"Of course its me, foolish mortal," the vampire huffed. "I want you on the next giant metal bird en route to Hellsing Manor. You better start packing, priest."
If not for his preoccupation, Maxwell might have come up with some kind of sarcastic retort for the lapdog of his arch enemy. However, he had his steadily growing mountain of paperwork to deal with, as well as an unfortunate incident that morning involving Anderson, a poodle, and a very large pair of hedge clippers. He shuddered to himself.
"And why, pray tell," he said carefully, "is the Protestant sow calling me?"
"It's a long story." Alucard ignored his name calling of Integra. Maxwell began to grasp the severity of the situation. "Now, if you don't have your ritous ass on a plane in the next five minutes, I'm calling the Pope and telling him about your secret affinity for the movie Bruce Almighty." Alucard wasn't familier with the Catholic faith, but he was pretty sure that was a sin in there somewhere.
The line went dead, leaving a stunned Maxwell staring at the receiver as if the Devil himself had popped out of it.
Fifteen minutes later, Maxwell and a reluctant Anderson sat comfortably in first class, the latter absorbed in a newspaper. "Ah still don't get what's with ye, Maxwell," Anderson said, not looking up.
Maxwell sat with his arms crossed, glaring at the headrest in front of him as if it would attack him. The headrest stared back at him indifferently. Annoyed by its lack of response, he lashed out a fist and punched it. The little old lady in the seat turned around and started beating him with a handbag. Anderson buried his face in his newspaper, concealing his laughter as Maxwell tried to apologize.
"Miserable old fossil," Maxwell grumbled as the old lady turned back around. He straightened his collar and slumped back in his seat, then turned to glare at Anderson.
"And what are you laughing about?"
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The rest of the plane ride was relatively uneventful. Anderson had gotten little information out of Maxwell, having only caught the words "Devil", "Protestant swine", and "Jim Carrey" out of the priest's brief rant. Finally, Maxwell had pulled out a rosary and began to pray rapidly. Anderson shook his head and returned to his pilfered newspaper, wondering just how stupid the general population of England was.
Man Pays For Coffee With Stolen Money
After holding up a coffee shop clerk and stealing all the money from the cash register, some nine hundred pounds, the armed robber then proceeded to use five pounds of his proceeds to pay for a venti mocha white chocolate latte with cream.
"I didn't know the English drank coffee," Anderson mused aloud.
London Man Shoots Wife, Mistaking Her For A Monkey
A fifty year old London man was brought into police custody yesterday after firing a gun at his wife. He claims to have mistaken her for a monkey escaped from the local zoo, as she was climbing a tree in the backyard of the couple's home. She was pronounced dead at the scene, leaving the couple's eight children now orphaned.
Anderson didn't know if he should laugh hysterically or cry. The man must have been blind or had a really ugly wife. But to produce eight children…? Unless she had octuplets, they must have been rather busy behind closed doors. He shook his head and turned the page, decided that the general population of England couldn't get any stupider.
Drunken Man Cooks Own Genitals.
"We have a new winner."
Anderson made a mental note to warn Father Maxwell to stay away from the sacrifical wine.
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A few hours later, a cab was dropping Father Maxwell and Anderson in front of the Hellsing manor. After a brief scan of the perimeter, Maxwell detected no fires, no explosions, no deaths, and no alien invasions. So why in the world would Alucard call them here?
As they came up with walkway, the first thing they saw was Alucard running down the path like his ass was on fire.
The second thing they saw was that Alucard's ass really was on fire.
Anderson and Maxwell blinked as the red clad vampire ran past them, coat tails aflame, dashing into the street and nearly causing a seven car pileup in his wake.
Walter appeared in the doorway, holding a flamethrower and wearing a triumphant smirk. "Father Maxwell, Father Anderson," he said, beconing to them. He frowned at their looks of skepticism and remembered the flamethrower. He tossed it aside quickly. "Come in, please."
The priests reluctantly followed the butler inside, still confused as to the situation that had just played out before them, and why they were even here at all. "Can I offer you some tea?" Walter asked.
"Just tell us why that psycho vampire called us here," Maxwell said between gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a large armchair with a bowl of popcorn and Pay-Per-View.
"Ah. That." There was a long silence as Walter lead them up a few flights of stairs. Maxwell recognized the route as the one leading to grand office of Hellsing herself. The sight that awaited them, however, was not the office of the grand Hellsing.
The room was in shambles, a large seven by five foot hole making a large portrait window with a lovely view of the garden below. Papers were scattered everywhere, most ruined. The desk was cleanly split in two.
"Lady Hellsing must have had a serious case of PMS," Anderson said, breaking the long silence.
"Actually, it was Alucard's doing," Walter corrected. "And the Lawnmower From Hell, of course."
"Lawnmower From Hell?" Maxwell echoed.
"It's a long story. Sure you don't want that tea?"
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"You want me to WHAT?" Maxwell shouted, glaring at the butler over the steam from his tea cup.
"I want you to exorcise the Lawnmower," Walter repeated calmly.
"That's what I was called here for?" the priest demanded, his glare deepening.
"How can a lawnmower be possessed?" Anderson mused skeptically, more to himself than anyone else, as no one was listening to him at the moment.
"Look, I know it sounds foolish, but Alucard has himself convinced that the lawnmower is possessed. And we don't need another hole in the office."
"Why don't you just buy a new lawnmower?" Anderson suggested, tuning back in. He was ignored again. Sighing, the paladin turned back to his newspaper.
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Integra returned from her afternoon trip to the hot tub to find Seras back at her laptop, typing again. The knight glanced over her shoulder, reading the last few lines.
"Seras, Alucard calling Maxwell to exorcise a lawnmower?" Integra chuckled to herself. "You have quite the creative mind."
-To Be Continued…Again…-
Author's Note: First off, thank you to all the reviewers from the last chapter. I felt special seeing FFN emails in my inbox five days in a row. Now I know I'm already a month behind, and I promised there would be a Part II. Now it looks like there's going to be a Part III. To be completed whenver I have time. See profile for more details.
The first newspaper article that Anderson read was actually based on a real event. Sad. I think I got one of the others off some website or from another fic. I can't remember where.
Part III will be coming. Eventually. In the meantime, review? And suggest ideas? Reviews motivate me to write faster. Thanks for reading!