Disclaimer: Still don't own the Hellsing characters, but Joshua and Jane are mine.

I'm changing the timeline a little, please don't lynch me. All opinions are welcome.

Chapter Two:

Hellsing Munitions Factory, somewhere in England.

"This is the second one in eighteen months!"

"It's not your problem Jane, leave it alone."

"We cannot let the man run around doing whatever he does to whoever he does it to, with a weapon that's no longer viable!"

"That's ridiculous, he's not a man!"

The heated voices echoed around the firing range, and anyone within earshot beat a hasty retreat. The Smith siblings were at it again and soon money was changing hands, odds on how long it would take before Jane smacked her brother Joshua in the mouth.

A solid sound of knuckles connecting with jaw announced the winning time of three minutes or less and the victors rapidly left the area with their winnings. If Jane found out they were betting on her short fuse, they might find themselves at the end of the ammunition testing bay.

Jane's eyes widened to match Joshua's as she realised what she had done. Then she quickly yanked her handkerchief out of a pocket and reached up to dab at the small bloody spot she had created on her brothers lip.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly, standing on tip toes to reach.

"I know" he mumbled.

Joshua let his sister minister to the wound she had inflicted, inwardly smiling. It didn't really hurt and she had done far worse things to him in the past. It was inevitable that the two of them would clash. Just because he was older (by three minutes), didn't protect him from her quicksilver temper.

"You really have to let this go Jane." he said, sitting down on the floor so she could reach him with ease. "You're already on your second reprimand. One more and out you go."

Jane studied her brother's face and wondered how she and her twin could be so vastly different. They weren't even similar in looks. Joshua was tall with a square jawline and smiling brown eyes. Sandy blonde curls tumbled across his forehead and he was always ready with a joke or a quip.

"You can't tell me that you don't see the damage." she snapped. "Its as plain as the nose on your face."

"All I see are the marks from intense fighting, fighting that us humans wouldn't be able to withstand. The gun has held up so far, and I don't see a need to change anything."

"Arrgh!" she shouted and threw the handkerchief in her brothers face as she stalked out of the range.

She stomped straight up the stairs to the workshop chief's office and banged on the door.

"It's open." a mild reply wafted out.

She pushed the door open and entered the room, drawing breath to begin her diatribe when the man at the desk held up his hand and said:

"Not a word. I've heard it all before and I'm not interested. We're not redesigning it, we're not re-machining it. You say one more work on the matter and you're gone."

Jane stared at him for a good ten seconds and then muttered:

"Yes Sir, very good Sir."

Turning on her heel, she left the room and for once made a smart choice by resisting the urge to slam the door on her way out. As she plodded down the stairs, her shoulders slumped and she scuffed her feet all the way to her workshop. She went to the workbench and opened the recently delivered box of phosphorous incendiary rounds. She examined them to ensure that her design specs had been followed and then spent the next hour loading magazines, writing an instruction note and packing them up.

"You ready to go?"

She turned at the sound of Joshua's voice in the doorway and smiled, her bad mood lost in a haze of gunpowder and steel.

"Sure, let me just lock these rounds in the safe and then we can be off."

As she maneuvered the ammunition into a nearby safe, she noticed a large wooden box in Joshua's hands. Pointing with her chin, she asked:

"That the new one?"

"Yeah. Don't suppose you want to lock it in here?" he asked. "It's far to the other end and I'm knackered."

"Sure." she said lightly, hoping that her fast beating heart wasn't too apparent.

She locked the safe, dowsed the lights and the two of them left factory with all the others.

**Later that night**

Jane sauntered into the factory with the shift change and waved at Ernie the night guard.

"You clocking up the overtime then?" he called.

"Something like that."

Making her way to her workshop, she closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. She opened the safe and took out the wooden box, straining slightly with the weight. She slid it onto the workbench and then started to place tools alongside it. A quick dip into a locked draw produced a set of grips that were thicker than the average. With a deep breath, she opened the gun box and reached in for the gleaming steel instrument of death.

"All or nothing now." she murmured.