A/N

Alright, I'd like to say something before I start this chapter, just so we all understand each other. Please keep in mind that this all starts only a few months after the Conningwell estate massacre. That isn't something that someone could just walk away from unchanged. I'm not trying to be angsty, but this is the way things happen. Annie is affected deeply. It haunts her. Why? Because she feels she could have prevented it but didn't. She's too much like her mother in that respect; she shoulders the blame, puts it on herself. Something like that shakes a person to the core. Annie feels responsible. And because of this, she'll never quite be the same again. So if you have any qualms with how 'angsty' this may seem, I'm sorry for you. I write what I feel is realistic, and right now, rainbows and flowers for her aren't.

Lots of dialouge this chapter. If Duchess can do it, I can too. Plus, I like dialouge.

Onto the story.

(oh, and thank you to those who reviewed. Also, Duchess, if you flood me with chapters, I'm not going to speak to you for a week. I have exams this week, so be considerate.)

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Annie awoke in a cold sweat, tears slipping down her cheeks. She lay unmoving for a few minutes, allowing her breathing to slow and her heartbeat to steady itself. It was that dream-no, nightmare- again, and once again, she went through her ritual to calm and collect herself. She glanced over at her alarm clock. It wouldn't go off for another half an hour, but she decided that now was as good as ever to get to work. And she knew just the person to do her a small favor to make her feel better.

0o0o0o0o0o

Father Alex sat in the study, among the books and leather bindings. Such a collection was spectacular. Never had he seen so many old and valuable books amassed in one personal library before. Were it not a sin, he would envy Annie the chance to grow up in such surroundings, with such resources available. Still, he was allowed to indulge in them as a member of the household, and so he was happy. He could find nothing to complain about.

Except for the vampires. He was perfectly fine with Annie, and after years of working alongside Seras Victoria, he no longer felt the urge to put a bayonet in her back. She was a sweet girl, and really worked for the well-being of humanity, however odd that was for one of her kind. It was the new vampire that set his teeth on edge. Seth was not new to him, so it seemed unreasonable that he should feel the way he did. On the other hand, when he had known him before, the boy was still human. Ever since he became a vampire, Anderson resented him. Not as a person; as an addition to the "family". He was unfamiliar with the common procedure, he was over eager to help and still so clumsy that he wound up hurting a cause more than assisting. He also had an annoying habit of overthinking things. When what is required is to shoot, it really wasn't necessary to wonder if the gun was made in England or Japan.

Anderson was thinking up a rather nasty practical joke he could play on Seth when from out of nowhere, a female voice called out.

"Father Alex!!!"

Annie's head poked around the doorframe and an amused grin crossed her face. As soon as she was sure he wasn't going to have heart attack(or at least not a serious one), she smirked. "What's wrong? Doing something you shouldn't be?"

Anderson sent a glare in her general direction. How did she always manage to show up right when he was having what could be considered traitorous thoughts? He didn't understand it. Quite frankly, it scared him that such a thing was possible. Annie chuckled at the look on his face.

"Is it paranoia, or are they really out to get you?"

"Very funny. You know, I used to know a catboy like you."

"Oh, really?"

"Aye. Everywhere and nowhere."

"Quit fooling around. I have a job for you. More of a favor, really."

"I'm not fooling," he muttered to himself. To her, he said, " And what might this job-favor be?"

Annie's hand lifted and pointed in the general direction of the kitchen. "Make me a sandwich."

Alright, now he was sure that there was something wrong with her. " You cannot be serious."

"No, I'm not. Actually, I wanted you to go scout on the outskirts of town to make sure no vampire riff-raff has made its way in since the last time I sent someone out."

"Which was yesterday, if memory serves me correctly."

"'Better safe than sorry'," she quoted.

"There is such a thing as overvigalence, lady knight," he said back.

"Not in my book. For instance, what were the statistics on the last mission?"

"Two vampires eliminated, countless ghouls. A few weapons broken, one vehicle damaged, five casulties-"

Annie cut him off, a hard look on her face. " How many?"

"Five."

"Not acceptable."

"What are you talking about? Thats a perfectly reasonable number. A few deaths here and there are counted as acceptable losses, because-"

"No. When the scoop falls off your ice cream cone, that's an acceptable loss. When you throw a ball into the woods and can't find it, that's an acceptable loss. When your marshmellow falls into the campfire, that's an acceptable loss. When it comes to human life, there is no such thing as an "acceptable loss"!!"

Father Alex looked at Annie in consternation. Her nerves were showing through again. He could see the wild fear in her eyes, mixed with anger and sorrow. Ever since that fateful birthday, Annie's confidence was shattered. Before, a few men were something to feel saddened over, but she understood such things happened. She had been bold, daring in her manuevering and orders. Now, she was cautious. She was also a very good actress, though. She had them all fooled into thinking she was still the same person. The council, the public, the king, the very soldiers of Hellsing. Her parents. None of them realized what had happened to her. None but those closest to her inside the walls of Hellsing, who could see her emotions in their raw, unchecked state. It was affecting her decisions, and if something didn't change soon, it would affect her ability to lead. He didn't want to think about what would happen to England if it ever came to that.

"Anessa Hellsing. Do not allow yourself to fall into an idealist trap. We all wish for a world of safety, where no human blood has to be shed. A place where the innocent bystander can remain just that; a bystander, not a fatality. But in order to acheive those ideals, you must accept that death is inevitable. To maintain the security of all England, you have to realize that the world is not, and will never be, the ideal picture you hold in your head. You-"

Annie smacked him, palm open, across the face. A cold fury raged in her eyes. "Do not tell me how to run my orginization, or live my life. You simply follow orders. Am I perfectly clear, Alexander Anderson?"

The cold tone she used reminded him of her mother when he had first met her. When that happened, he found only one safe, best, option: submit.

"Perfectly, Madam Director."

She gave him one last, withering look, and turned on heel. He watched her leave. Sighing, he went to prepare himself to do as she asked, because if he didn't, it could cause even more problems. He walked past the kitchen on his way out and stopped. First, he had something to do.

o0o0o0o0o

Annie emerged from her room some twenty minutes later or so, confident that she had calmed herself to a controllable, maskable, point. She strode into her office. It was dark. The heavy drapes had not yet been pulled back to allow the sunlight to stream in and illuminate the large office. She made her way to them, tying them securely in place and turned to get started on her work for the day.

There, in the middle of her desk, sat a sandwich. And next to it, a goblet with a note attached.

It read, If anyone asks, tell them it's fruit punch.