Author's Note: It's nice not having pressure to make every chapter perfect. On the other hand, I'm sorry to take so long to update.

Disclaimer: I have no legal claim or financial gain to Hellsing.


Eventually Seras swept through his entire head of hair, which went all the way down to his knees. By now, he sat on the ground with his back leaned against the bed spring, and Seras sat on the mattress behind him and brushed out his long tresses, from scalp to split ends. Technically she could have ended it there, but she enjoyed running the brush through again and again.

"I can't remember. Don't they say you should brush a hundred times?"

"You can if you want," he said, but he was a little bias.

Strong manly man he had been in his time, this felt extremely nice. Feeling her run the brush gently through his scalp to the base of his hair and back again, again and again, felt very soothing and rhythmic. Following his talk about willingly enduring many kinds of Hell for the basest of rewards and the smallest of pleasures, he had starved and suffered in this cold, dark, concrete shit-hole with such little kindness or enjoyments for so long, that something as simple as a brush running through his hair felt very nice.

She didn't know it, but he drooped his eyelids and mentally melted into the touch, although physically he stayed upright.

Thankfully she decided to go with the hundred brush-strokes, as she had nothing better to do and nowhere else to go.

"I wonder why they made it a hundred, anyway?" Seras said at one point.

"It's to get the natural oils from your scalp to the tips of your hair," he said.

"Wha-? Really?"

"Oui," he said. "In the old days, before proper hair products, people's hair would be very oily at the top but dry and cracked at the bottom. Oil's a natural lubricant, so they would run the brush from scalp to the tip dozens of times just to work the oils from the scalp to the ends of the hair. It was just to lubricate the tips, but the 'hundred brush-strokes' rule was an easy way to do it."

"Huh, I never knew," Seras said.

He smirked. "I figured."

"Hey!" she snapped, and tugged his hair again.

He smiled and let her lull him into another trance with her gentle brushing.

Even after she was done though, Seras observed that his hair was still in poor shape.

"I don't suppose you want to trim it?" she asked.

"Nah. I haven't cut it this long, I won't start now."

"But you're not a mercenary anymore."

"I'm also not dead."

That shocked her into silence.

Since vampires didn't believe in or bother with factories, shampoos and conditioners were fairly difficult to come by. After such long neglect, his hair was very coarse, cracked, and filled with split ends anyway. He recommended using bottled oil, like olive or coconut, to lubricate it. Since coconuts were considered rather exotic and grew far away from this climate, Seras went with the olive oil and gently lathered and brushed it into his hair the next time she saw him.

Seras smiled as they worked. "You remind me of that Dothraki warlord from that book, A Game of Thrones."

"A game of what?"

"Hm? Oh. A Game of Thrones. It was a book that came out not too long before vampires took over,"* she paused. "A friend of mine checked it out at the library and told me about it afterwards. It was... too brutal for me to want to read, but she told me of the many stories and characters. One of them was a young girl whose brother married her off to a powerful barbarian warlord. She said he never cut his hair because he never lost a battle. It was so long it went down to his thighs, so he often oiled and braided it up, and the girl often helped him."

"Heh, like you're doing now," he smiled.

"Basically."

After struggling for a bit, she finally paused. "Actually, could you do it? I never learned how to braid."

He burst out laughing. "Damn straight!"

As he swept his hair aside and re-braided it, she absently placed her hand on his exposed shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

It was a small, simple touch. Yet, it affected him more than the most erotic caresses. He was silent for a long time.

"And you really think me like this warrior?" he asked.

"From what I heard, there's a passing resemblance," Seras smiled.

Men have very delicate egos, or so it's often been said, so comparing him to this fictional warlord that never lost was definitely one of the nicer things Seras could have said.

He reached his hand over so it rested on hers, which was rested over his shoulder, and he gave it an affectionate squeeze.

By the end of the week, Pip looked much better. Seras came in every day to make sure he ate well, and that his injuries were healing. His skin already looked more plump and supple from the blood transfusions, his injuries healed fairly well thanks to the better nutrition and ointment, and his auburn hair hung in a long, thick, smooth, glossy braid.

Pip was also eating much better thanks to the steady stream of food his body had long gotten used to going without. For a while, a small bowl of leafy greens alone was enough to fill him for hours. Now, he was munching down nearly all the lettuce, spinach and kale Seras brought, as well as the steamed beats, carrots and broccoli. His appetite improved so much that she brought large slices of grain bread and cheese and even a bowl of thick pea soup from the kitchen. Despite what one may think, pea soup can be quite filling; especially this one since it was made of peas mashed and simmered into a hearty broth, sautéed garlic and onions, and cubed carrots and potatoes, along with plenty of spices to make it taste very rich.

Between the bread and soup, Pip felt like he ate like a king. He moaned in pleasure as he ate it, then felt so full he yawned and stretched and slept as deeply as a giant that had feasted on men.

He became so used to having food by the end that he was able to ask for certain types he liked more.

He was eating an apple Seras had placed in his basket, when he said, "Could you bring tart apples next time?"

She turned around. "What?"

He knew she heard him, since she was a vampire, but she wanted clarification.

"In the future, when you bring more apples, could you make them more tart, like green ones? I like tart apples."

Seras smiled, and said she would.

She ran into trouble filling out that request though.

Up above ground, Seras was still a subject of ridicule among her peers. Her master was mercifully too busy with some crusade or another, so she had not seen him since the last time he told her to drink blood. She also did not have to stop to see her peers, but many of them came to her study and she knew they talked about her behind her back.

Rumor now had it that she rented out a cheap slave downstairs and went to see him every night.

At first, they were filled with praise.

"Seras! Congratulations!"

"Oh, Seras! I didn't know you had it in you."

"It feels soooooooooo wonderful, doesn't it?"

"Do you mind if I come down? We can have a threesome."

"What's he like? Maybe I can have a go at him as well."

"You must like it so much. No wonder you go down there every night."

They asked her what her slave was like, and Seras honestly couldn't say because she'd barely touched him. Most of the vampires either lacked critical thinking skills or had long stopped applying them, so they just assumed she'd lost her blood innocence on casual conversation with her, and didn't stay or come closer to find out. However, on further inspection they found something was wrong with her look, scent, and demeanor for what they thought she did.

One even leaned over and sniffed her.

"You still reek of innocence."

Then word got around that Seras was still a blood virgin despite renting and spending so much time with one of the weakest slaves, and their ridicule for her increased tenfold. It's the type of shame only imaginable if applied to a situation like... like a young man getting married and never touching his wife. To put it in the bluntest terms, she was the laughing stock of the castle.

"Oh Seras, I would invite you to join me with Mona and my two slaves, but I think you'd walk away still a virgin!"

Only the three eldest Brides, who had first welcomed her by dancing and holding out their hands and beckoning to her with chants of "sister! sister!" remained somewhat civil. Their age made them the most vague, indulgent, and nymphomaniac (they practically crawled on their hands and knees and groveled up their master's body whenever he returned from battle), but it also, strangely, made them most lacking in human nastiness. They accepted all of their "brothers and sisters," even if they were foolish blood virgins.

Yet, when Seras went to the kitchen and filled her basket with food meant for the humans, and they found her filling it with the tart apples she had requested, even they had to object.

"What does he give you for all those treats?" one Bride asked.

Seras wondered how she was lucid enough to ask.

"Nothing," she answered honestly.

"Ooooh, darling, that will not do..." she said as she glided over to Seras, her gossamer gown trailing behind her. "He is only a human that earns his keep through his services to us. If you give him something so wonderful for nothing in return, it will go to his head and create dissension."

"I don't think you know what that means," Seras said, and grabbed another apple to place in her basket.

Soon, there was something of an attempted intervention for Seras among the eldest Brides.

"Darling, you mustn't spoil your human so, or he will try to take advantage of you."

When they learned that Seras asked the kitchen humans if they could please find her tart apples, they felt affronted on many levels. Asking humans instead of telling? And what were the new apples for?

"He really likes them," Seras said.

They felt this would not do at all.

"Honey... honey... you mustn't do that!"

"The moment you start serving him instead of you, things will go awry..."

"He'll start using you, tricking you."

"He'll try to get all he can out of you..."

"I don't think he will," Seras said, but she wasn't so sure.

"Honey, honey, it's not that simple. We are the masters and they are the slaves. As soon as you start treating them otherwise, they'll start treating you like the slaves."

They explained that the way things worked was that vampires were the masters and humans were the servants. They maintained this by always ensuring humans served them and they took what they wanted from them. The moment they started giving humans what they wanted, asking for nothing in return, they risked upsetting the balance of power. They risked humans starting to think they were in charge, they could start making orders, then they could start thinking they could get things from vampires without giving anything in return.

"He'll start using you and manipulating you for his own ends..." one said mysteriously.

"He won't!" Seras cried.

"Really? Then he won't try testing to see what he can get away with?"

Seras faltered. She couldn't say "no" for certain. He had been trying to inch closer and closer to her; using more innuendos, seeing how far he could get with the dirty talk before she snapped at him to be quiet or back up.

"He won't try pushing to see what he can get out of you?"

Seras could see that he wanted sex, even though it made her vastly uncomfortable. Any time she did anything nice for him, he would inch closer and closer, try to segue into more intimate words and embraces. He only backed up when she told him to back up, but always tested when she started to let her guard down.

"He didn't start requesting more favors or presents after you started doing more favors than before?"

She thought of his request for her to bring crisper, tarter apples. While he often complained, he usually ate whatever she gave him and applied whatever medicine, transfusion blood and shower supplies she brought without any comment.

The Brides began circling around Seras as they whispered and insinuated.

"This is how it all starts..." one said.

"First he acts grateful and harmless enough..."

"Then he starts pushing to see how much more he can get away with..."

"Start asking to see how much more he can get from you..."

"Then he'll start taking more and more, giving less and less..."

Thank goodness, this was the wrong thing to say. Seras instantly snapped out of her reverie and realized what they were doing.

"I don't want anything from him," she said, and broke out of the circle and left the room.

"You can't fight the truth, Seras!" they called after her.

Seras tried to shake their words out of her head, but they had planted the seed of doubt and it had taken root.

Regardless, Seras entered his room with the basket of food like she did every night, with the tart apples he liked among them. He looked genuinely grateful, and bit into it first thing. The concrete walls echoed with the crunch of his teeth chomping into the crisp, tart apples.

"Oh, fuck me, these are delicious," he said when most of the first apple was almost completely devoured. "Merci."

"Don't mention it," she said.

He ate the entire apple all the way down to the core, and reached for another one.

Seras was so glad she selected the right kind, but she also felt guilty to bring only a few. She had wanted to leave room for other foods in the basket, but since he was eagerly eating through all three with no sign of stopping, she felt bad for not bringing more. She also watched him enjoying eating his food (no longer just a necessity not to die), and vaguely envied him. She wished she could eat with him - er, like him.

"I'm sorry not to bring you more," Seras said.

"Eh, what are you sorry for? You didn't have to bring them at all."

"I know, but..." When he didn't interrupt her, as she was so used to being interrupted, she said, "Well, if I was going to bring you anything, I should have brought more.

"Hey, some are better than none," he said, and pulled out the last apple. "I'm grateful for the ones you did bring."

Pip was a good sport about it though. When the apples were gone he again thanked her genuinely, then reached for something else in the basket.

Seras sighed in relief, then sat on his bed more comfortably, and enjoyed his company for the rest of the day. In the back of her mind, she remembered what the Brides said about the human trying to manipulate and use her, to take advantage of her and get what he could out of her. It was hard to forget, but she tried to put it out of her mind. She was a bit alert for any request, but for the most part she didn't see any harm if he did. She enjoyed his company, and if his life was so wretched down here that a few crisper, tarter apples made it less terrible, she was happy to do it.

The tense awkwardness of her first few visits was largely gone. The conversation they had while she brushed the snarls out of his hair had largely cleared the air, and forged a deeper connection. Seras still sometimes worried if he hated vampires for what they did to him, and felt complicit in his slavery since she was paying to see him too, but still... things were very pleasant.

He was good company.

Certainly much better than the vampires upstairs, who only talked of trivial things like blood, pleasure, and slaves.

Pip was also very perverted, often made dirty jokes, talked about past sexcapades, and twisted many conversations into being about whether they'd do it, but otherwise... he was very nice.

All too soon, the week was up and he would have to go back to work. It made Seras so worried that she lay wide-awake in her coffin, unable to go into her supernatural sleep during the day.

On her last visit she arrived with her basket of food, and when she saw him she thought he looked really good. His flesh was soft and supple with blood, his wounds either healed or became minor enough that they had stopped bleeding, and his skin largely cleared up thanks to good nutrition and hygiene. He was still rather thin - she could still see his ribs, collar and hip bones, but his skin was not drawn so tightly around his bones as they had been. His face was also not so gaunt, and he didn't have purple shadows under his eyes.

Then she thought about how his week was up, and he would soon go back to the mercy of other vampires. She feared all her work that week would be undone, and he would go back to being drained, bruised, injured, slashed, bitten, and savaged as though by wild animals.

It must have showed on her face, because he said, "You're worried about tomorrow night?"

"What?" she asked.

"You're looking at me the way you did when you first came here, before all this," he gestured to the life-saving food and medicine, "Now your week's rental is almost up, and I have to go back to work tomorrow. I figure, that's probably what you're worried about."

"I... well, that's true, yes," she admitted.

"It doesn't have to end, you know," he said.

"I'll ask Narissa if I can rent more time. I don't want you to go back the way you were."

"Oh, I don't

He leaned closer to her, which made her chest and face feel warm all over. He also placed his hand on her thigh and leaned in for a kiss.

"What are you doing?!" she demanded.

"I just thought we should enjoy our last night together."

"But we are!"

"Are you sure? Is this why you healed me?"

"Of course!"

He was confused. "To enjoy in bed or conversation?"

"I... I don't know!" she ducked out from under him and stood a reasonable distance away.

He sighed. "Why did you heal me?"

"Because I just want to talk to you, that's all!"

He blinked.

"I... I don't know. There's no one to talk to upstairs, so I just... I don't know..."

After a respectable silence, he said, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

She couldn't answer. She remembered her master's order to drink blood, and felt the urge, even now. But, she felt like she would be taking advantage of him if she did. His life wasn't his own and he had no freedom, no choice in who took him and who didn't. Who fed from him and who didn't. She remembered how drained and dehydrated he had been, and felt like she wouldn't be any better than the other vampire women that used him so horribly to make him that way in the first place. She felt she would take advantage of him.

Her blinding hunger kept bringing her back. If she fed from anyone or anything, she thought maybe it could be him...? But she couldn't drink from him until she gave back enough in return. And for now, Seras felt she hadn't given enough back to justify drinking from him. He still needed so much more; more food, more healing, more luxuries.

Seras' human emotions and vampire instincts were horribly tangling and clashing. On the one hand, for vampires drinking blood was akin to enjoying sexual gratification. Some deep cardinal part of Seras realized it too. Since she feared and shunned sexual relations as a mortal, she also shunned both it and blood drinking as a vampire. Her human sensibilities felt that if she drank blood from anyone, it had to be the right person, in the right time and the right place...

Like waiting to lose her virginity to the right man, Seras thought sadly.

And of all the people of every species she had encountered since she was turned, she felt Pip was the closest fit. She just couldn't explain it; when she even thought about drinking blood from someone else, her insides ran cold. No. She felt no desire to do it. But when she thought of drinking from him, she felt she could. Her teeth ached, her insides writhed, and a deep gnawing hunger from deep within longed to be filled. Yet, when her vampiric self reared at the opportunity to bite and drink and lay with him, her human side felt equally repulsed and horrified. She just couldn't do that to him. Take him and leave. She might as well be a common thug. Especially since he was so weak, starved, and abused already. She felt like just one more of his abusers, taking advantage of his vulnerability by drinking him and leaving him. So, she felt she had to do something nice first to make up for it.

If she was going to drink his life essence to sustain her own, she should provide something nice to sustain his, she thought.

She just couldn't drink from him till then, if she did at all. A huge part of Seras didn't want to drink from him, and half of her felt she never would. But, some small part kept compelling her to come back, and she felt she shouldn't do so without giving her share first. And so far, she hadn't paid enough. Part of her felt guilty, like the only reason she was giving him all these nice things was because she just wanted cardinal blood from him in return, and that's a horrible thing to do. People shouldn't do kind things for each other just for something in return. So, even though her craving for blood kept compelling her to come back, she refused to answer it. Instead, she answered her human morality and just kept giving him nice things without asking for anything in return, almost to prove to herself she wasn't the user or monster her Superego accused her of being.

But, that wasn't doing very well either, because he seemed to expect her to take him like a vampire would and she wouldn't do that either. It was just an awkward situation for them both.

"You all right?" Pip asked.

She snapped out of her reverie, and realized she had just been sitting there.

"Sorry, lost in thought, I guess."

"I can see," he said. "Care to share?"

Her deadpan glare said it all.

Seras was worried about that too. He had improved so much in the time she'd rented him, but now his regulars were getting antsy and even Narissa was impatient for him to get back to work. Seras approached her hoping to ask for more time, but

"I've still rented you out for half the night for the next three nights," Seras said, "So no matter what, at least you'll get a break."

One unforeseen consequence of Seras taking such good care of Pip was that he rose in price. Because he was much handsomer and healthier, some of his old regulars got extremely put out. When they realized they couldn't slash and maim him back into submission, they moved onto other prostitutes who fit the bill. Even those individuals were not completely without hope, because Seras secretly sent baskets of food, medicine, soap, and other basic odds and ends to their room too. Pip was the only one she visited, but he wasn't the only one who had some helping hand to let him know someone cared.

When Seras left his room one evening, Narissa was standing there. Her fingers absently twiddled her large bead necklace, and her eyes were thoughtful.

"He seems to be getting much juicier since you've been with him."

Seras winced at her choice of words. "I guess you could say that."

"I might even be able to recommend him to better clients. Murielle really likes her men large, strong, and pumping hot, you see. And she's always on the lookout for a new one."

Seras' own face grew very hot at the description. Then it felt cold and drained of blood when Narissa seemed to wait for her to respond.

"You're asking me?"

"Just curious, that's all."

"... Okay..." Seras said warily.

Narissa still didn't move; just looked at his door thoughtfully. Unsure how to respond, Seras left.

The next time she saw Pip, he was in a better room with much better furnishings. It wasn't as good as the Captain, but he did get a bed that wasn't broken, a dresser with three drawers instead of two, a shower separated from the rest of the room with a curtain, and had warm running water. The running water was the best of all, he said later.

He also had some new clothes. When Seras walked in, he was dressed in a clean set of trousers instead of the ratty old ones she was used to, and wore a very nifty looking Australian cowboy hat.

"Howdy, ma'am," he teased.

"Oh!" Seras cried, and blushed.

"You like it?"

"I... yes. Pardon me, I've never seen that before."

"It was a gift, from another client."

Her gut clenched with jealousy. Another client? Another client got him something?

"R-really?" she asked, and tried to sound vaguely curious.

"Yup. We were enjoying a post-coital smoke, when I happened to bring up a similar experience when I was in Australia. When I happened to mention I'd been in the Outback, she said I must look really sporting in one of those hats. When I said I once had one, she brought me one on her next visit."

"Oh..." Seras said, and couldn't hide her disappointment. "I didn't know other vampires were buying presents for humans."

He laughed. "Jealous, ma cher?"

"I'm not, and don't call me ma cher!" she cried.

He grinned, and shrugged. "Looks like you started a new trend, ma cher."

"What do you mean?"

She still hovered by the door, and held onto the doorknob absently.

He leaned back in bed, as nonchalant as could be. With his new muscled torso, thick trousers, and impressive cowboy hat, he made an amazing silhouette. "Vampires used to think of the dungeons as places to reap pleasure instead of giving it. Come down, extract as much blood and sex as they wanted, then leave. Then they saw - well, heard from Narissa - that you giving gifts and food makes some of us shittier slaves taste better, last longer, and feel better in bed. Naturally, they pay good money to have us en want to suck every last penny they can out of us. Pun intended, by the way."

"I noticed," Seras frowned.

"So," he said casually, and folded his hands behind his head, "Most of them have servants anyway. It costs them nothing to give us an extra boost, at greater pleasure to them."

"I thought the whole reason they came down here was because they got tired of being considerate of servants?" Seras asked.

"They do, but up there, they have to take care of them. Make sure they're fed, clothed, given blood when they drink too much. Down here? They can be as rough as they want, fuck, drink, en leave. Then the madam en servants take care of the rest. Still, for one visit, one little gift does more good than it costs."

"Oh..."

In her own way, Seras was disappointed. She was very happy for him and the others, but being the only vampire that brought presents and caring about their overall well-being... well... made her special. Seras helped humans like Pip, brought conversation and nice things when the other vampires just used drained and left. Now, they were talking, treating him better, and giving him nice things too? What did that leave her as? The one vampire that wouldn't screw him, and now had the lamest stuff?

Pip laughed. "Don't hide your disappointment or anything."

She flushed furiously. "I'm not!"

That was all that was said on the subject because Seras would not say any more, but she did feel ashamed of herself.

She was glad Pip was doing really well for himself; she really was. She started helping him because she wanted him to do well. At the same time, though...

Another unforeseen consequence of Seras taking such good care of Pip and making him more valuable was that his price went up. She could no longer rent him out for a week, or a whole day, or even every day. Soon, her daily visits dwindled down to one visit every few days. When she wasn't visiting him, she was working to pay for the next one.

When she missed him dreadfully when she couldn't go down, and felt her heart flutter when she finally made it.

He seemed surprised to see her too. "I missed you yesterday," he said.

"I'm sorry. I had to work to afford another visit," she removed her jacket and hung the basket on the coat-hanger by the door. "You're becoming more popular now, you know that?"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," he said, as he lit a cigarette.

Seras was about to protest. Then he smirked at her, and she realized he had been teasing.

Being away from each other for a day helped them appreciate the other more. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" and all. Seras brought him goodies no one else did, despite how Narissa was now bringing him better food, and Pip was arguably the only person in the castle Seras could talk to. But it went deeper than that and they both knew it, but neither would say it out loud.

She feared again what would happen to him when she wasn't around, but again, Narissa took good care of him. Because he was bringing in the dough, she was willing to spare a little for him. Give him blood transfusions, medicine and basic luxuries. Seras was glad... but on the other hand she also felt he had no need of her anymore.

She saw him once every two to three nights, and in that time he only grew bulkier and healthier. When Seras first saw him, he had highly bruised, slashed up, chalky, greasy, and infected skin pulled taut over an all-too-visible skeleton. By the end of the first week, his skin was made up of mostly recovered slashes and bruises pulled lightly over his skeleton. His skin and hair were glossier than ever, and while he was still thin and while every rib was still visible, the skin stretched softly over his bones and not harshly.

This was partly because he had gone without proper food in so long that most of Seras' first week with him had been spent getting his body used to eating at all. Now that he was used to eating and Narissa was feeding him more, he could eat more hardy foods, and he could also eat larger amounts of it, he was bulking out wonderfully. Most of his ribs had vanished, and he had enough carbs to convert to muscle.

When clients weren't around, there also wasn't much for him to do down there but work out (much like bored prison inmates, Seras thought wryly), and it showed beautifully.

Seras once entered his room to find him clutching the top of the doorframe with his hands, and pull himself up and down.

"Oh, hey!" he said when he saw her.

"Hello yourself," she said.

"Yeah, I get a hard-on working out."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He thought she was saying "Hello yourself" to his... ah... but she really had just been addressing him. No way he was going to explain that embarrassing quirk of his male body to an innocent girl who didn't understand most double entendres and still refused to so much as kiss him.

When he finished worked out, he let himself fall to the ground with a loud "THUD!" then straightened and stood before her. Despite her innocence, she ogled and practically drooled over him. He wore only a pair of thick military cargo pants and combat boots. His bare torso gleamed with muscles and sweat, with his long braid clinging to his sweat-covered skin.

Seras stopped breathing. He was so tall, bulky, and handsome. By now, he was covered in rippling muscles as well as healing scars, and the cowboy hat, thick jeans and military trousers he wore accentuated this new handsome appearance.

Pip spotted her ogling him, and smirked. "Like what you see?"

She snapped out of it. "No!" she snapped automatically, then blushed. "I-I mean, yes. Well, you do look handsome!"

Pip chuckled.

"Aw, ma cher, I'm touched. You know I do all this for you."

"Like hell you do!" Seras snapped, then she huffed as she held out her nightly basket.

He laughed and accepted it. "For me? I'm touched! It isn't even my birthday."

"Keep talking like that and you might not live to see the next one!" she snapped before she could help herself.

His smile sobered. "Yeah, you don't say."

Seras winced.

"I mean, I'll punch your lights out so you sleep right through it!"

He laughed. "Is that a fact?"

"Yeah, that's a fact!" she flushed.

He grinned, shook his head, and motioned for her to sit on the bed. She accepted the invitation gratefully, and he ate the food she brought while they talked.

He seemed to like her visits on the whole, even though she was no longer bringing him nice things that other people weren't, and she also wasn't bringing him... well... what he seemed to want. He still flirted and mock-kissed her, and Seras still got moody and uncomfortable. He always laughed it off, so he seemed to take it in stride.

He seemed to like her visits good and well, and Seras liked coming to visit him too. Her heart swelled and her teeth ached, but she suppressed her vampire hunger so she could just enjoy his company without ruining it with... well. ("Monster" flashed through Seras' mind.) They often sat on opposite ends of the room and just talked. The tension and awkwardness slowly melted away and they both knew what the other wanted from them. By now, it became pretty clear to Pip that Seras wasn't going to suck on him and Seras knew Pip wasn't going to try to initiate contact if she didn't, and so they just eased into pleasant conversations.

Seras liked talking to him. He was very casual and nonchalant, but sharp as a tack. He was very insightful, she liked bringing up different things.

"You're not blushing today," he said one visit.

Her face instantly went red on the comment.

"Now you are," he grinned.

"Oh! You jerk!" she flushed.

He chuckled, "I know, terrible."

He seemed happier on the whole, which made Seras happy. There was something of an edge when Seras first came down, which was understandable considering what he had went through. There was trace of understandable bitterness, and hardness. Now he was either really good at hiding it, or his life down here was going well enough that it didn't need to be present.

Seras found her heart melt whenever she came to see him. She felt a... fondness being around him that hadn't been present before, and she wondered if he felt it for her too. Probably not. In fact, Seras felt sure not. He treated her with casual friendliness that she felt sure was just nonchalant. He was probably like this with all his clients, since good service yielded better money, more visits, and less of a likeliness to get slashed or broken for his insolence.

While she knew logically what his job entailed and how she would no doubt have to participate some day, if her master and sisters had anything to say about it, she was still unprepared for the reality of the act.

One night, Seras came down to see him during what she thought was their scheduled hour. Her girlish heart compelled her to fill the nightly basket with that she thought was a really pleasant treat. It had the usual healthy foods they were used to, only she also added blocks of gourmet cheese and a bottle of wine. She had heard French people tended to like that sort of thing, but through conversation with Pip she found he liked them good and well too. She thought it was a nice treat and something to enjoy; not a romantic gesture, she thought.

Since he had a new room surrounded by many doors with equally pleasurable activities, she came to feel the noises were normal as she walked down the hall. She also misheard where the sounds were coming from until it was too late. She opened the door and immediately balked at what she saw.

Pip Bernadotte, the human she had grown so attached to, wore nothing but his cowboy hat and a pair of riding chaps and was being ridden relentlessly by one of the vampire women. One of the women who Seras saw more often every day.

She thought she heard Pip say something, perhaps acknowledge the new guest, or perhaps it was just her imagination.

Mortified, temporarily blinded, Seras shot back, felt her head might pop from the rush of blood to her cheeks or projectile vomit from nausea and horror at what she had witnessed, and ran up the stairs, feeling ever like the fool.


Why is it that every time things start to go well for Seras and Pip, I feel this need to throw a wrench in at the bottom of the chapter?

*George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones, the first installment of A Song of Fire and Ice, was published in 1996. Kohta Hirano's Hellsing takes place in 1998. This is a sort of alternate universe that takes place around that time too, so A Game of Thrones would technically have been published and out and about at that time, even if it wasn't as popular as it is now.