It's been a while – I won't make my excuses, but I do apologize. Enjoy – and R&R!
The distant horizon would soon be lit up in the gentle mauves and pinks of the dawn – or at least, Saki imagined it would be. There was no way to tell for sure if the sun rose at all, buried as deep into the Hellsing mansion as she was. For a creature raised in primitive conditions in the forest, the novelty of the manor was something too spectacular to pass up. No wonder the vampires favored such a facility – it was easy to avoid sunlight in a place such as this – without even needing to dig a hole to hide in!
And not only that, but there were cold and hot streams of water available at a mere touch of a knob! And light, at the flick of a finger. And even the temperature inside seemed to be controlled. This place was truly bewitched in the most wonderful way…
Saki blinked, realizing that in her amazed stupor, she had managed to get turned around – again. 'If I'm late today, Master Integra is going to kill me! We're supposed to be going to that… thing… in just a few hours…'
Whirling around to get back on the right track, Saki nearly jumped out of her skin when she found herself face-to-face with the younger of the two vampires. 'Damn those smelly-soaps!' Oh sure, they had lured her with their sweet and clean scents – wonderful, pure, exotic aromas that didn't even occur in nature. Oh, certainly she had applied them with such vigor not even ten minutes ago – but right now, she felt quite irritated by her own lapse in judgment.'I didn't even smell her!'
There was no way she was simply getting that used to having vampires around. No way. Frantically, Saki scrubbed beneath her nose with the back of her hand, trying to wipe away the smell.
What was that girl's name anyway? Everyone called her Police Girl, but she didn't seem to like it when she called her that… Oh wait, that's right, the gun was hers –
"Um, hi, Vladmir…"
Immediately, the girl's eyes flashed with indignation. "My name is Seras Victoria, not Vladmir!"
"But, the –" A dawning realization, followed by a sheepish, "Oh, right – never mind." Saki rubbed a little more intently at her face. Yes – maybe she was beginning to smell things as they should be… Just a little more…
The other girl leaned against the wall, watching her with a huffy kind of aloofness that was quickly fading into begrudging amusement. When Saki continued with her frantic scrubbing, the blonde finally laughed aloud. "You know, I've got a pretty sensitive nose too. I have some scentless soaps… if you'd like…"
Saki froze, unsure of what to make of this tentative peace offering – but judging by the stabbing feeling of guilt (or was it fear of punishment?) that arose, she decided it would probably be a good idea to square things off between them before she accepted the offer. "I'm uhh... sorry for taking your gun… and starting a fight with you… and… calling you a liar… and stealing your uniform…" She paused, trying to tally up the score in her head. "… And calling you Vladmir…"
Once again, the other girl laughed aloud. "Apology accepted. And I'm sorry for beating you up."
"You did not beat me –" Saki paused, taking a deep breath as visions of Integra shouting and slamming her hand on the table and altogether looking quite unhappy ran through her head. She hastily amended her reply. "Apology accepted."
"Good." Noting Saki's continued sniffing, the vampire girl turned to walk back down the hall, calling over her shoulder. "Come on – it won't have for you to scrub off your face before the sun even rises! I'll get you set up before I – err – go to bed…"
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One minute and forty-eight seconds since she had finished her official presentation, and there was still no lycan servant to be seen.
Integra made absolutely no motion. She sat as calm and composed as was fitting of any noble of England, pointedly not flipping open and snapping shut a pocket watch (like Sir Penwood was doing), not flicking a lighter flint with a nervous thumb (like Sir Bannerworth) – and, most pointedly, not puffing on a sweet, calming cigar (like she would have been, had she not been required to keep face in front of the knights.
Forty-two minutes and fifty-three seconds since she had grown impatient with waiting for her lycan servant to be prepared and ride with her to the conference. Thirty-nine minutes and twelve seconds since she had ordered one of her men to find the girl and bring her immediately. Twenty-eight minutes and thirty-nine seconds since she had arrived here and made her presentation on what a lycan was and delicately explained her situation.
And, now, two minutes and thirty-seven seconds of waiting for before mentioned lycan to grace them with her presence.
"Sir Integra – where exactly is this so-called lycan servant of yours, anyway?"
Integra closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm her rising ire. "One of my men will be bringing her shortly."
"What's taking so long? It isn't like you to be late…"
"It isn't me who is late, as you can clearly see. It's the girl." She was going to kill her. Just see if she didn't.
"Yes, but you said the girl is yours, correct?"
Sensing the verbal trap far before it was laid, Integra leveled an even stare at the man. Was it a pity or a shame that looks didn't kill? "So it would seem."
One man's "Don't be coy!" was cut off by another's more paranoid, "How can you be certain? How do you know she hadn't killed your man and gone on a rampage through London!" There was something between indignation and fear in the knight's quavering voice, and Integra was distinctly certain that she felt a headache forming.
"She hasn't."
"How can you be sure?" Penwood's reply was just a little too swift, and others were quick to jump on his lead. "Indeed, Integra - if you can't even control her enough to show up somewhere on time, how do you expect to control her at all?"
Before they could work themselves into a frenzy, Integra shocked them all with a slow, mirthless laugh. Leaning forward with something undoubtedly akin to a predatory glean in her eye, she calmly folded her hands and offered the best assurance she had: "Gentleman, she simply hasn't been disciplined yet. And rest assured, if anyone can make a lap dog out of a lycan, it's the Hellsing organization."
On that dramatic note, a loud 'thunk' announced the opening of the door. 'Finally!' Integra thought triumphantly, whirling around – and then freezing in horror once she actually saw the object of their conversation.
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Previously, at the Hellsing Mansion…
It wasn't until she was halfway through with re-bathing using the scentless soap the vampire-girl had given her that Saki realized how very late she was. Even running as fast as she could, the soldier who had been sent to escort her was still extremely agitated when she blew past him into her room to change.
"What the 'ell! Where 'ave you been?" the long red-haired man snapped from outside her door.
"Getting ready!" Saki snapped back, now feeling very glad that her special-ordered clothing had come with a picture showing her how it was supposed to go – and that she had already practiced putting it on. As it were, she had already opened the door and was ready to go in a flash, nearly bowling over her assigned escort in her rush to get back downstairs.
"Whoa!" he shouted, then, actually seeing her, gawked. "Whoa – are you supposed to be wearing that?" he demanded, pinching his nose while peering at her with one wide eye.
Self-consciously, Saki twisted to survey herself; in the end, she couldn't see anything different from the picture. Angrily, she snapped at the Hellsing employee. "Yes! And what's it any of your business anyway? Don't we have to go? Aren't we supposed to be somewhere?"
Ignoring her barrage of defenses, the man hazarded a glance at his watch – and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Bloody 'ell! The boss is gonna kill us both!" Sparing another doubtful glance in her direction he shrugged to himself. "Well, there's no helpin' it now!" And with that, he took off down the hall, leaving the lycan with no choice but to follow.
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Zipping across town in a car was a new experience for her, and seeing the city again for the first time since she had first arrived here and proceeded to wander the streets in search of Hellsing was somewhat nostalgic.
There wasn't too much time to really enjoy the scenery, however, moving as fast as they were. The soldier driving the car kept swearing, and Saki quickly began to realize that they weren't going to be on time to Integra's… thingy. The table thing.
Knowing that she was not going to be on time also instilled in her the knowledge that Integra was going to be far less than pleased. Feeling like she couldn't go in late to see her master empty handed, Saki glanced about and spied a rather shiny serving tray laden with fancy little cups set on a small table. Actually, in the diagram-picture thing on the cover of the costume package, hadn't that woman been holding something like this…?
Either way, Integra would be a little more forgiving if she at least made herself useful while she was here (and if nothing else she could hold that tray in front of her to shield herself from master's wrath!), Saki snatched the prize from the table and kicked open the doors without further adieu.
"I'm here, massssterrrrr!" she squealed gleefully, grinning so proudly that she missed the telltale 'thuds' of several men falling out of their chairs upon her appearance. As it were, it was all she could do to hold the dramatic pause and still the wild butterflies wreaking havoc in her tummy. She so wanted her master to be happy with the outfit she had purchased just to please her, after all…
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"Wha…" The girl actually flung open the doors herself, kicking them in dramatically while holding a tray in front of her. The grin was so huge on her face that even her eyes were smiling – and, as it were, the expression gave quite a view of her menacing canines. Well, canines that might have been menacing… if she weren't… wearing… that…
There may or may not have been a few "thuds" of men falling from their chairs. Integra wasn't entire sure – she was too preoccupied with trying to stop her eyebrow from twitching.
"Oh. Dear. God." There was simply no way that this was happening.
Even Walter, standing dutifully to her left and just behind her chair, seemed at a loss. Though to be fair, if she hadn't heard his faint "oh dear," she would have been none the wiser to the fact that he, too, was taken aback.
Black and white: that was the first impression. Lace and poof: that was the second. Integra blinked, willed herself to wake up from this ridiculous farce, and then looked again…
But the black and white, the lace and poof, were there to stay. A full layer of skirts, white beneath the top layer of black, forming a full bell-like skirt that flared out to just a bit above her knees. White socks with a lacy garter lining the tops; a tight fitting, almost jumper-type of corset cut layer of black overlaying a frilly, lacy, white shirt. Her wild hair was tamed beneath a square of white with lacy edges, a black bow adorning the top.
Hell, black, white, and otherwise lacy bows adorning everywhere. And of course the ensemble wouldn't be complete without the girly apron, tied with flourishing ribbon about her waist, or the delicate mary-janes upon her feet, or the white gloves upon her hands.
What Lolita French maid costume would overlook such fancies, after all?
Integra's headache suddenly multiplied a hundred fold, and Walter's repeated "oh dear" did nothing to assure herself that this was just a terrible, terrible dream.
And nor did the incredulous stares of the other roundtable knights. In point of fact, it took every ounce of willpower not to draw her Walther and open fire when the first faint stirrings of 'I know she said servant – but I didn't know she really meant servant –' Whether she would shoot the whisperer or the source cause of the whispering she didn't know.
And when random misfires from her eardrum to her brain carried hushed tones of 'kinky' and 'dominatrix,' that was the last straw. Even if the girl clearly was born stupid, that didn't excuse her compatriots from acting like a bunch of hormone driven teenagers…
There was something utterly clueless about the grin plastered across the girl's face, and with some abjection, Integra realized that the girl somehow had chosen this ensemble blissfully unawares of the fact that it was not normal. Yes; blissfully unaware, and most certainly born stupid. Or ignorant. Ridiculously, disgustingly, blissfully ignorant.
Integra suddenly longed for the days when having an uncertain police-girl draculina who didn't want to drink blood was the biggest of her concerns.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, recomposing herself. Yes, that's right – she was here for a purpose. And that purpose was not to allow some ridiculous mockery to play out for the amusement of the knights. Slamming her hand on the table, she brought an abrupt and violent end to the frenetic whispers. "Gentlemen! If we could please!" Shooting a sharp glare in the lycans direction, she barked, "Girl! Come here so they can have a better look at you!"
There was a pregnant, painful silence in the room, and Integra couldn't stifle the smug, self-assured smirk that was slowly cracking through her annoyed mask. Confronted with a rather unsavory situation, she'd just reinsert herself into the position she was most comfortable with: the lead. Just like that, the room was utterly silent. All eyes were on her, and in that moment, she knew she was in control.
Flicking her hand absentmindedly towards the girl now standing quite complacently at her right hand, Integra announced, "Gentlemen: I give you exhibit A. Saki, lycanthrope, blood-sworn servant of the Hellsing organization."
This time, it only served to amuse her when the girl actually curtsied at the introduction, ducking her head and smiling coquettishly. "I'm so pleased to meet you all!" she gushed, yellow eyes over bright with zeal. "Any friend of master's is a friend of mine! I will try my hardest to please you all!"
Integra thought she might have heard another suspect 'thump', but she paid it no mind. Instead, she smirked at the servant who was now watching her with undisguised devotion, clearly waiting for approval. Distantly, Integra remembered being the recipient of a very similar look when she was a girl and had had a dog of her very own… True, that had been a fox-hound, and this one a girl-wolf, but in that moment she found it hard to distinguish between the two.
"Very good, Saki," she offered, and after another moment of contemplation, she actually dared to reach up and pat the girl absently in her raven locks.
"I live to please you, master…" she verily purred and meant it, and once again, Integra felt that heady rush of control.
Born ridiculously, disgustingly, blissfully ignorant, maybe, but faithful and devoted to serving one more enlightened than herself, for certain.
Confidence bolstered near to the point of bursting, Integra turned back to the table and idly wondered if she was glowing with her confidence. "So, gentlemen, what about those questions of yours, regarding my servant?"
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Yes, in addition to having the loyalty of a dog, Saki also has the attention span of one ('Hi Vladmir!'). She is a dog – what did you expect? Tee hee… You know you still love her, though!
Well… if you're a dog person, that is… Which I am… And um, apparently Integra is too? (I mean come on… hellhound, ya?)
Get it – "EroticPleasures" fettish garb frilly maid costume… So um, what do you guys think? Does the "uniform" work, or does it have to go?
And uh, where to go from here? REVIEW!