A/N: I was surprised and delighted with the responses I received last time. To be honest, I wasn't really expecting as many as there were, and it gave me the encouragement to start this chapter. I apologize for the upload time; school and work have both bogged me down, and the flu has only made it worse. I hope that the chapter does not echo my sickness, and that it is as well received as the previous. Thank you all for reading and, as always, I still do not own Hellsing.
With heavy boots, Seras made her way silently down the stone corridor, in no particular hurry to reach Sir Integra's office. After delaying her shower for as long as was feasible, she had shut off the water, re-dressed in her robe and skirted her way back to her room. After a few moments of silent deliberation (it seemed everything she did these days was done silently), she disrobed and tugged her uniform on and into place, straightening out the clean, pressed fabric against her contours. All the while, her mind whirled, a stormy maelstrom of confusion and stomach tightening worry. Everything that had happened in the past few weeks flew by in her memory; every missed bullet at the shooting range, her unsettling sleeping habits, nightmares of her past and her sudden lack of hunger and relatively passive decision to stop drinking blood. There was no possible way that Sir Integra had not noticed her sudden lapse in attention, despite her rather devious attempts to avoid her. Seras was honestly surprised that her Master had not reprimanded her before it had gotten to be so bad. Glancing down at her boots, she double-checked the shine, satisfied upon seeing her own sallow form reflected there. Resisting the urge to wince at her own appearance, pale and sick with the lack of blood, Seras decided that there was quite literally nothing left to do and, with a deep, lingering sigh, she exited her room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click of the doorknob.
Then again, when was the last time she had actually SEEN her Master? A twinge of something painful raced through her body, lingering in her fingertips and in her chest as though she had been electrocuted. Rage? Sadness? Not quite; neither seemed to strike what she felt on the head… Jealousy seemed to hit a little closer to home. Blood struggled to rise to her cheeks as her embarrassment became overwhelming. Her gaze drifted to the stony floor, booted feet leading her to her Master's Master's office, mind on auto as she walked. It had been weeks since her Master had even drifted through her peripherals, let alone spoken to her or even given her the bloody time of day. For at least the third time that evening, she began to chew on her lower lip, careful not to puncture the skin there for fear that one less drop of blood in her system would cause her to shut down.
Her mind had fallen into such disarray that it took a chance glance up from the floor to save herself from bumping into the door. Upturned eyes and a forced slowing of the breath lent the young policewoman the air of a woman on the edge. The edge of what, however, remained to be seen.
After a few moments, during which she managed to both collect her scattered thoughts and ease into the somewhat dampened shell of herself, Seras Victoria knocked twice.
"Come in, Ms. Victoria, and be quick about it." Sir Integra's muffled voice lost none of the icy irritation it seemed to hold despite the barrier between them. With one last breath, Seras pushed open the heavy wooden doors, running her fingers lightly and appreciatively over the glossy wood finish as she did so, a comforting habit she had been unable to discourage since arriving at the Hellsing Manor. Silently and effortlessly, she shut the door behind her before turning to stand at attention before Sir Integra. As she turned she caught a flash of red, her eyes seemingly slow to the uptake as she finally recognized her own Master seated opposite Sir Integra. Seras could hardly keep her eyes from roving over her Master's elegantly splayed form, jealousy and anger swirling almost visibly in her eyes. His arms were crossed lazily across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and disappearing beneath the desk in a way that clearly exemplified the multitude of times he had sat in that particular chair. His signature hat hung on the back of the chair, giving the impression that he wore it until he sat up somewhat, correcting his terrible posture.
"Well hello there, Police Girl. So nice of you to finally join us." Alucard's deep baritone trailed along Seras' skin, the sarcasm seeming to drip into her very pores until blood rose to her cheeks. She said nothing, however, and simply turned her gaze from her Master's, inadvertently meeting Sir Integra's as she did so.
"I apologize for the wait, Sir…" Her voice was soft, the exhaustion seeming to suffocate her words as she spoke. A heavy silence seemed to settle in place after she spoke, interrupted only by the shuffling of paperwork and the sound of Sir Integra pulling on her cigar, the tip burning as the tobacco entered her lungs. While time was taking a toll on the heiress, the fight had refused to leave her eyes, and the gentle grace which many seemed to miss at first glance still remained, lingering in the way she held her cigar and the way she crossed her legs beneath the table. Crows feet seemed to be the worst that had assaulted the imposing woman, a couple of wrinkles beginning to appear just above the bridge of her nose; a symbol of her constant stress. Despite all of this, the woman remained beautiful, regal and impressive in a way that Seras had always, and would always, admire.
"I have a mission for you, Ms. Victoria." Noticeably Seras paled, mouth ajar ever so slightly for perhaps a second before she straightened and stiffened her stance.
"Yes, Sir. The details?" Her voice held none of the prior weariness, her face stern and ready.
"As you may have noticed…there is no trouble here. We have not had an attack in well over four weeks, and things seemed to have settled down. Not a word has been uttered even from Iscariot, so it may even be safe to assume that they are devoid of troubles there as well." She paused, pulled the cigar from her mouth and exhaled a plume of smoke that seemed to fill Seras' sinuses. "Sit down, Agent Victoria. Help yourself to some tea." An order, not a suggestion, intended to be taken as such by the hard emphasis placed on the words.
With a curt nod, Seras glided forward, avoiding her Master's chair by taking the long way around his own to reach the chair beside his. Furthering her rather apparent irritation with her Master, something she was aware was childish but seemed unable to stop, she leaned towards the side of the chair furthest from her Master's, crossing her legs demurely before her. With a wave of Sir Integra's hand, a document held securely in said hand, Seras reached carefully forward and poured herself a cup of tea, careful not to knock anything over in the midst of the seeming infinite pile of paperwork. She added no sugar and only a hint of cream, enough to add a swirl of color to the amber liquid before bringing the cup close enough to cup between her two hands. The cup was surprisingly hot; subconsciously Seras had assumed that it would have cooled. Whereas a human's hands could not have withstood the heat, Seras relished it, forcing herself to keep from pressing the cup against her cheek. Slowly she sipped, the pleasantly bitter leaf-brewed tea danced along her palate, warming her mouth and heating her throat and stomach as it trickled down.
From her right her peripherals caught a flash of color and she could sense her Master's movement even as she refused to look. His arm came into her view then and plucked the teacup from her hand, removing it from her grasp. With a look of outrage plastered on her face, Seras turned, arm outstretched to retrieve it, only to be met with a smirk and an empty teacup. More furious than she should be, she turned away and focused once more on Sir Integra, refusing to give her Master any more attention than she already had. If the childish bastard wanted to steal her tea and spend all his time with Sir Integra, then so be-
"AGENT Victoria." Sir Integra's demanding tone ceased Seras' inner rant, causing her to come to realization that the lack of blood and sleep was affecting her ability to keep her focus. Already her thoughts were beginning to drift off, made only worse as he Master's amused chuckle darted through her mind. "Good. Now that I have your attention… This mission is not like most other missions you have taken. For one… you will be leaving the country." Seras' jaw dropped visibly this time, and she did nothing to stop it. Leaving? The country? She'd been born and bred in England, and hadn't ever given a thought to leaving, not even for vacation. The city was perfect and the countryside was beautiful; what more could she have ever asked for in her lifetime, or any other for that matter?
"B-But Sir Integra-"
"Silence, Victoria. I have very little time, and what little patience I have is wearing thin. You will accompany Alucard to…" She picked up a loose sheaf of paper, frowned for a moment behind the paper before shooting Seras a look over the document. "Austin, Texas. Your mission parameters are explained here." She offered a folder, pulled from some unseen location, to Seras leaving the vampire to understand that her Master had already been briefed on their mission. Much later, it would occur to her that this was a familiar place, and not simply because it was a city whose name was difficult to escape or forget. Much later, she would accept the mission with gusto and excitement, thoughts of meeting someone she'd thought she'd lost a far more overwhelming thought than the fear of leaving England.
Limply Seras accepted the folder, wrist bending with the thick folder's weight as she pulled it slowly back to herself. All the while her mind seemed broken, incapable of handling this information or even acknowledging it as anything more than a jumble of words from her Master's Master. All the while a familiar chuckle was building in her head, tracing its way with unseen fingers through her hair and down her neck, echoing in her ears as though she were actually hearing it.
"You may leave, Agent Victoria. You will be leaving here in two days time." Why the domineering woman did not simply order her departure was a mystery to the young vampire as Seras stood and robotically made her way to the door. Behind her, her finely tuned ears caught the noise of fabric as her Master leaned forward across the desk; the rustle of papers did not escape the Police Girl's attention as she exited the room, looking back nary a second as she shut the door behind her. What her Master and Sir Integra did behind closed doors was not her business, though if they were interlocked in some sort of romantic, behind the scenes relationship, it might explain where her Master's attentions had been the past couple of weeks…
With a sharp and violent shake of her head, Seras realized that she had been leaning against the door, listening unconsciously for any sort of noise that would validate her…thoughts. It was ridiculous, of course. There was no way the head of the Hellsing Organization would so demean herself. There could not possibly be any sort of connection between the two besides the connection she held with Alucard herself!
This caused her to wince, and flinch away from the door as though she had been physically wounded. Some aspect of their own relationship hurt the Police Girl; if nothing else, should her Master not care about her well being? It was clear to any vampire that she had not been drinking; hell, it was likely that Sir Integra could have easily spotted it. Something akin to sorrow settled in the young girl's mind, and she wallowed in it, lowering her head and shuffling silently down the hall in the opposite direction of her room. It took her a few seconds to realize that her thirst was so very overwhelming that she was headed towards the kitchen, and while the thought of blood was enough to cause a bilious taste to rise in her throat, a cup of hot tea might ease the ache for a little while longer.
Long enough, perhaps, for the memory of her parents to fade.
If nothing else, it would give her an opportunity to read the report beneath her arm. Some ominous thing told her that whatever it was that was encased in the suspiciously harmless manila folder was enough to leave her longing for a splash of brandy in the bitter tea she would soon ingest. She could feel it, like a dark plasma creeping up her arm and chilling her already freezing skin. She wondered if this was imagined or superimposed over her own thoughts, a little trick, courtesy of her Master. In either case, tea seemed to soften all things.
If nothing else, perhaps Walter would be around to comfort her, as he had seemed more wont to do as time had wore on for the both of them.
A/N: I warn you ALL now that the way I choose to set up Austin in my following chapters may not (and probably does not) reflect reality. As the author of this particular little story, I retain the right to use my creative ingenuity whenever and however I please. If it upsets you, I'm sorry but I don't much care. In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would be tickled pink to have more reviews or, as always, constructive criticisms. Thanks!