Author's Note: This is my first story here! Whoooo! I want to thank my two wonderful editors and my family for supporting my fanfic writing. XD

This is entirely manga-based, and is currently taking place in between manga vols. 2 and 3.

July 1st of 2003 was a routine day in the Central London police department. There had been three broken traffic lights, five minor car accidents, several drunk-drivers, one attempted robbery on a convenience store, and a fatal bar fight. All the officers on duty went about their business in the normal, mundane routine – three were assigned to direct traffic, a number of cars were dispatched to the various crashes, and the drunks were arrested and taken to holding cells at headquarters. The robbery was effortless, considering the man attempting it was no real threat – he had no idea how to work a gun and was quite polite when asking the cashier for the store's money. The big case of the day was the suspected murder at Barney and Aileen's Tavern in the heart of town.

Mr. Barney, the small, wrinkled owner of the pub, was waiting outside when the police arrived along with the medics. He rubbed his bony, unsteady hands together as the detective approached him, along with two other officers.

"Evenin', gentlemen," he said shakily, bowing his head at them. "Bless you, fer comin' here tonight." He opened the door leading into the bar and motioned for them to come inside. The detective studied the pub's interior as he stepped over the threshold; the distinct smell of beer and tobacco lingered in the stale air, hitting him heavily upon entering. Mr. Barney, who was accustomed to the various scents and odors of the dingy old pub, ignored their sickened looks and led them to the back of the bar. There, in the alleyway, was a woman lying among several trash bags.

"Not entirely sure what happened here," Mr. Barney told the detective. "One minute I'm out buyin' some weed for me pipe, and the next there's a dead lass in me alley!" A large group of officers were already assembled in the tight alleyway, examining the crime scene and snapping photos of the woman's body.

"So you weren't here when she was attacked?" the detective asked suspiciously, jerking his head at the corpse.

"Already told ya," Mr. Barney stated, "I went out to buy some tobacco for me pipe. Left me wife Aileen in charge o' the bar." The detective took out a notepad along with a black pen and began taking notes on what the man was saying.

"And your wife didn't notice anything at all?" Mr. Barney furrowed his brow in thought.

"Well, how could she? Lass was out in the alley," he exclaimed. The detective scrawled several more things onto his notepad before looking up at him.

"We're pretty sure she was shot," the detective said. "Shells on the ground, and several bullet holes in her chest. If that's the case, your wife must have heard gunfire." At that moment, a frail, skeletal lady walked out of the back door to the pub and made her way towards Mr. Barney. She looked up at the detective through her thick, red-framed glasses, smoothing out her purple plaid dress.

"Someone said I was needed out here?" she questioned in a polite tone of voice. The detective raised his eyebrows at her eclectic appearance and blinked several times before replying.

"Uh…yes. You must be Mrs. Aileen, I presume?" he asked, looking at her warily. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"No, not at all," she answered courteously.

"Your husband tells me that he went out on a few errands, and left you in charge," the detective said, lazily leaning against the wall of the alley. "Can you tell me everything that happened from that point on?"

"Well…" Aileen stood thinking for a minute before adjusting her oversized glasses and clapping her hands together. "Barney went out to buy more tobacco for his pipe – you know, I've told him so many times how unhealthy that thing is – anyway, he let me take over while he went down a few blocks to the store. It wasn't hard to keep watch over everything because only the regulars stopped by tonight," she paused and began counting on her fingers. "Robert, Charles, Mina, Christopher, Danielle…oh, and Dane," she added with a smile. All the while, the detective kept writing in his pad.

"Are you acquainted with any of these people?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the yellow paper in front of him. She waved her hands around enthusiastically, her many bracelets jingling and jangling.

"Oh yes, of course! Dane has been coming here since I can remember," she stated, putting a finger to her mouth in thought. "He was one of the best bartenders we ever had, until he began working in journalism or something silly like that. He brought his sister here quite often, too." She folded her arms and nodded at the detective. "Mhm, nice girl she was. Bit on the strange side, if you ask me, but pleasant as can be. Except when she had her gin and tonics," she added with a cackle, nudging the detective with her elbow. "Nobody can be very polite after enough of those."

"Do you remember anything else about this woman?" the detective asked eagerly. Aileen set herself in thought for a moment before replying.

"Hmm, now what was her name…Amelia…no, no…Annmarie? Oh no, that wasn't it either," she said, shaking her head. "My, my brain really is leaving me." Closing his notepad, the detective held out his hand towards her as she continued to rattle off names.

"Would you mind coming with me for a minute?" he asked her.

"Oh, well of course not. As long as you're not going to arrest me!" She let out a high-pitched laugh that made the detective cringe. He graciously smiled as he tried to shake off the ringing in his ears, slipping his notepad into his coat. He took Aileen by the arm and led the old woman down the alleyway. The two of them pushed their way through the crowd of police officers, paramedics, and crime scene investigators until they reached the body resting in the garbage.

"Oh, dear…" Aileen whispered. The detective looked from her to the woman's body and back again, a puzzled expression upon his face. "You see…" she continued, leaning closer towards the detective and pointing over at the corpse, "I do believe that's Dane's sister."

"Well, then," the detective said in a stately manner, "that's all we'll be needing from you for now, Mrs. Aileen." He tipped his hat at her before thanking her for her cooperation. Aileen hit him lightly on the arm and gave another shrill laugh before turning around to make her way out of the alley.

"Not a problem at all, detective!" she screeched as she disappeared into the chaotic crowd. The detective sat himself on top of an aluminum trash can and sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Now what?"

The mahogany grandfather clock in the library struck twelve-o-clock midnight as Integra Hellsing sat down in one of the room's overstuffed armchairs. After a hard day's work, she found it particularly relaxing to sit in her study with a cup of tea and flip through a book or two. Besides, it was the one place in the entire mansion where she wasn't constantly yelling at someone else's stupidity. She had locked the door to avoid unwanted intrusions by an overly inebriated Pip or a complaining Miss Victoria. The only person who could bother her now was Alucard, and she was almost certain he had better things to do than poke fun at her in the middle of the night.

After taking several sips of her earl grey tea, Integra pulled a tattered copy of A Tale of Two Cities from the closest bookshelf. Her collection was largely inherited from her father and grandfather, and was composed mainly of classical European literature, as well as several American classics. Opening up to the first page that she had nearly memorized by heart, Integra began to read to herself before receiving a soft knock on the door to the library. She slammed the book shut and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, staring at the entryway angrily - was several minutes of peace too much to ask for?

"Who is it?" she shouted at the door. The person on the opposite side fumbled with the doorknob, jiggling it several times before managing to unlock it. Integra's butler Walter slid into the room and quietly shut the door behind himself.

"I hate to disturb you, Sir Hellsing, but..."

"But what?" she yelled in annoyance. Walter nodded his head in apology before continuing.

"Well, we've received a call from MI5 about a suspected attack in London." Integra tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of her chair.

"And?"

"They want us to send someone out as soon as possible." Integra stared at him in disbelief. She hated the nocturnal aspect of this job. Absolutely hated it. She set down her cup of tea and sighed.

"Thank you, Walter. I'll get on it right away." Walter gave a low bow before leaving, locking the door as he left. Rubbing her forehead, Integra stood up and dropped her book on the armchair's cushion, looking back at it longingly.

"Note to self," she muttered, "have the study lock changed."