Hi, there again. Hope, you had a wonderful weekend.

BulletsForValentine: Thanks for reviewing! I, too, like the Spanish part. When I found out, the word existed, I must've stared at my monitor for about five minutes, thinking something like "There is a Spirit of Fiction-writing, I just know it; and he is looking my way. Again." :)

By the way, this is not going to be a novel, even if you might suspect it, judging from the length of my chapters. I'm just "feeding" you bigger portions, because I think it is more fun to read. We are about 2-3 pages short of centerfold. So, if you want to review, please go ahead (and I do mean, like "Please?") And if you don't like the story, you can sleep peacefully, knowing that it will stop popping up at the top of the list, before long. ;)

As before, I would like to state, that I own neither Hellsing nor any of the characters and I'm not making money from this.

The meeting had ended in an unsatisfactory way, to say the least. Alucard's explanation of the recent events would hardly have filled a pistachio, if one had bothered putting it in a nutshell: »I drained a maiden, who claimed to be a witch. She should have been changed, but she wasn't. Instead, she changed me.« Everybody kept staring at him as if they expected this to be the opening to a three-volume-edition of Stoker's writings („newly annotated and re-edited by The Monster itself"). So, he added: »That's all.«

The natural thing to do, of course, was to try and talk to the witch. Seras Victoria was assigned the task. Sir Integra went to do some research on the matter in her father's library.

Walter had some household duties to see to and everyone assumed, Alucard would stay in bed to get some more rest.

Naturally, he didn't.

As soon as he was left alone, he climbed out of the bed. His cloak and hat would not return to him by means of telekinesis, so he gathered them. He put on the shades, but quickly discovered that wearing them added an uncomfortable yellow tint to the general dusk that seemed to impair his vision.

The Casull was a problem, because of its weight. He cradled it in the crook of his right elbow and sneaked out of the ward.

By the time, he reached his room in the cellar, he had found out that he could no longer phase through walls, nor climb them. He could not sense the staff in the corridors, nor smell them, nor could he be sure, he truly heard everything there was.

Worst of all, he had no idea, where Sir Integra was or what she was doing. If she was even alive.

Now, don't you get paranoid, he told himself. What could possibly have happened on the way from the ward to her study?

Except breaking her delicate mortal neck by tripping on the stairs or some inexplicable, tragic accident, of course.

Not to mention that from now on such things might happen to him, as well. Not to mention that he was in the habit of actively seeking and attracting such things...

What had the police girl said earlier? »I believe, I am going to freak out!«

Alucard stood in the dark of his cellar. No candle would bend to his will and ignite.

»I believe«, he murmured to himself, as he walked around, using a match. »Yes, police girl, I do believe, I'm going to freak out, too! Ow! Argh!«

Shaking his singed hand, he sat in his armchair.

So, it was dark, it was silent, it was lonely and it was cold.

He tried to call on his familiars. Bats. Wolves. Caterpillars. Anything.

Not a single red eye would lazily blink at him out of the dark.

Lord of Flies, he felt miserable!

Last night's bottle of blood was untouched. Alucard was willing to give it a try. If the blood was still the same, things might not be so unbelievably insane, after all.

Yes, he knew the metallic taste. But he could not distinguish any other facet of the otherwise so rich flavour. He did not even know if the blood had been donated by a man or a woman. Young? Old? Sick? Pregnant? Starved? An addict to sugar, fat, alcohol, caffeine? A happy, manic, angry or depressed character? For the fist time in over five centuries, Alucard had no idea. And he could not keep it down. It was upsetting his stomach, to the point of sickening him.

Snarling with frustration, Alucard smashed both, the goblet and the bottle.

Now, the blood was on the floor, but neither could he order it to pool properly, nor sponge it up, if it did.

»Welcome to your brand-new life. Lots of fun, no tedium. New things to learn at every turn. Great. I'm rhyming to myself.« He looked around. »I need a mop.«

A big, hairy, four-legged figure emerged from the shadows leading to the stairs. It trotted forward and tentatively touched its muzzle to the pooling blood. Snorting disdainfully, it backed away and started wandering along the walls to check for more attractive smells.

»Well, what do you know!« Alucard collapsed in his chair, leaned his forehead on his hand and made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob: »I summon a mop, and here it is!«

Of course, the Hellsing mansion gardener's German shepherd dog, whose name was as simply as aptly „Stockman", would not be used to mop up blood. He even added to the mess, when he padded across the room to the vampire's chair, and cut his paw on one of the shards littering the floor.

Thus, on descending into the cellar, Walter met Alucard crouched on the stone floor, using a piece of the table cloth to bind Stockman's paw and swearing to himself.

»Your proficiency in ancient languages has not suffered, I take it«, Walter said, stooping to have a closer look at Alucard's work. »That was an expert blend of Latin, sixteenth century French, Turkish, German, and some of your own homecountry's vernaculars, if you ask me.«

Alucard bowed his head, so his hair covered most of his face, except for the ferociously drawn back lips, revealing the set of very white teeth.

»Oh my. You're not in a social mood.« Walter appeared dutifully bewildered. »What is Stockman doing here? Have you been able to - ?«

»I have no idea. I've tried to summon about every single soul in a two-mile-radius that I know of. I've tried to get in contact with you. If you want to do me a favour, tell me, you're here, because a strange urge to visit the cellars has befallen you.«

»I am very sorry, but, no, I could not claim that an inexplicable impulse whatsoever can account for my coming here. For you see, there was this phone call - «

»So, maybe Stockman received my thoughts, after all. And maybe, he just passed by, when he heard me scream and break all that glass. It doesn't matter. He's no familiar, he's a sissy. He would not even attack on my mark.«

»So, if I just might inform you that – what do you mean, he would not attack?«

Alucard ruffled the dog's thick fur: »You recognise Wallachian vernacular, when you hear it. But you don't really understand it, Walter, do you?«

Walter was silent, then he said: »I see. Your pattern of volatile behaviour has obviously shifted from „variably violent" to „experimentally murderous".«

Alucard glowered at him: »Have you come to psychoanalyse me or clean away this mess or is there a good reason, after all? What was that about a phone call?«

»Ah yes. I've been trying to tell you. It seems, Maxwell and Anderson are on their way here.«

»Anderson is coming here?« Alucard was on his feet so quickly, he scared Stockman and startled Walter into taking a well-measured step back. »Walter, hurry, I need your help.«

Walter adjusted his glasses: »To clean away this mess or psychoanalyse any good reasons, you think, you might have?«

»Walter!« Alucard nearly jumped at the butler, then got himself under control.

»There's only one familiar left to me«, he said, breathing deeply. »I need you to assist me in making it useful again.«

Integra took her time, deliberately letting her „guests" wait. Finally, however, there was no more phone call to make, no more orders to give out, and tea-time was approaching. She had no intention of inviting them to her table and waste her expensive, imported Ceylon selection on their foreign ignorance.

No English pearls for these swine.

- The silver-haired alpha swine entered Integra's study with a grin that almost beat Alucard at smugness.

»Sir Integra! How very nice to meet you!« Maxwell, the head of the Iscariot organisation, held out his hand. Integra was sure, he'd be shocked, if she accepted it. But she could not bring herself to give it a try, not even for sports. The signal would be just too strong.

»This is not a goodwill visit to exchange pleasantries, so let's not pretend it is«, she said. »What do you want?«

Maxwell motioned at an armchair in front of her desk: »Can I - ?«

»Please. Have a seat«, Integra grit her teeth. »You, too, Anderson.«

»Thank you. I prefer to stand«, the paladin said politely.

»But not beside my door, like you're my bodyguard or – lurking for someone to decapitate at entering!«

»Come here, Anderson!« Maxwell waved his index finger, and grudgingly, the paladin joined him more closely to the desk.

»I should apologise for his behaviour - «, Maxwell said.

» - then do so. I'm all ears!«, Integra threw in.

» - but he's had another encounter with your vampire pet, Alucard, last night. As it apparently was quite a fight, I thought, we should talk and – settle this matter, if possible.«

»What are you talking about, settling this matter? Alucard is a servant of the Hellsing organisation. And Anderson, obviously, is not going to quit serving your sick purposes, either. So, how do you think, we could settle anything?«

»Well, I hoped, after last night, things would be ... changed.«

Integra felt a strong impulse to scream something in the way of »What do you know about that?«

However, she controlled herself, hoping that her pounding heart would not betray her:

»Changed?«, she asked, as levelly as possible.

»Come, come, don't play games with me!« Maxwell furrowed his brow, as if a thought had just occurred to him: »Where is Alucard, anyway? You faithful watch dog would not let you face me alone. He has returned to the Hellsing mansion, hasn't he?«

»He did«, Anderson confirmed, sounding like a wolf growling. »He escaped. The vile monster took the demon's way out and phased through the wall. The witch woman's heathen seal has not - «

»Anderson! Silence!« Maxwell literally jumped and drove his fist onto the armrest of his chair.

Well, well – look, who's betraying himself, now.

A heathen seal, indeed!

Integra leaned on her elbows and folded her hands, smiling enigmatically.

»We came to see Alucard!« Maxwell said, finally dropping the mask of politeness. »Sir Integra, I require to have a word with your servant. Now.«

»Well, first, I require some answers from your servant. Pater Anderson, what was that about a „witch woman", and why - «

»Pater Anderson is not under the obligation to report to you!« Maxwell cut in hotly.

Integra was as close to laughing out loud as her pride would allow: »You can hardly expect me to „settle matters", if you don't give me some information about what's the issue.«

»I will demonstrate the issue, if you just have this mummy of a butler call your gun-crazed zombie Little-Red-Riding-Hood to this room, now!«

»Watch your tongue, Maxwell«, a dark voice said. »Cat may eat it.«

»Alucard!« Integra whispered, ever so softly.

Unnoticed by everyone, the vampire had slipped in just in time to witness Maxwell's outburst. He wore his full attire, red cloak, red fedora, yellow glasses – and a sardonic grin that intensified, as he observed the reactions to his entrance.

Especially Maxwell looked like he was seeing a ghost. He pushed against the back of his seat and even made a small, betraying move, as if to raise his hand to his throat.

Alucard strutted into the room, casually swinging his Casull in his right hand.

He passed by Maxwell, who all but scrambled from his chair to evade being at arm's length with the vampire; and he passed by Anderson, whose eyes followed him like the stare of a predator, scenting for the weakness in his prey.

Alucard bowed in front of Sir Integra: »Sorry for being late, my master. Couldn't find my goggles.«

»It is good to see, you have retrieved them. The sun is really blazing today«, Integra said, just for the sake of saying anything, while she tried to interpret the signals, his eyes were giving.

The door.

Make them leave.

Yes. That was just, what she was thinking.

Meanwhile, the enemy had recovered from their surprise, too.

»Are you still a fighter, monster?« Anderson produced two blades, crossing them at right angles in front of his face.

»Your witch was a monster, Anderson. I keep telling you: It takes a human to kill me!« Alucard turned and raised the Casull. The bystanders heard the click of the safety being removed. His arm outstretched, Alucard brought the heavy weapon in line with Anderson's head.

»No-one«, Integra said with icy emphasis, »is going to run a rampage in my private study! Maxwell! I'll have you answer for this!«

»Anderson! I order you to desist!« Maxwell said quickly.

Neither combatant moved.

»This is enough!« Integra exploded. »Maxwell! How dare you enter my house and threaten my people like this? I must ask you to leave at once!«

»Sir Integra, I want you to understand -«

»I want you off my premises! Now!« She drew her own weapon, aiming it at Maxwell. She knew, to threaten him like this carried the seed for a major scandal in itself - not to mention the overkill on the practical side, if she wasted a blessed bullet to beat the holy crap out of this jerk. But Alucard's request required her to take desperate measures, since precious seconds continued to tick by.

Maxwell raised his hands, as if he were facing a robber about to demand his wallet, instead of a determined fellow organisation leader protecting her property: »Now, this is hardly a way to communicate among gentlefolk!«

»It is my way of telling you that communications are over!«

»You would not kill an official member of the Vatican!«

»That is certainly true. I'll order Alucard to spare your life.«

Alucard's grin widened to its notorious psycho dimensions: »You'd be surprised, what you can live through«, he offered cheerfully.

It was clear, that Maxwell was not overly curious to explore the extent of his capability of survival and was desperately looking for a dignified way to get out of the line of fire, both literally and metaphorically.

»If the gentlemen would please follow me?« Walter's silken voice cut through the air of hostility. »I believe, Sir Integra has called this meeting at an end. I will make sure, the gentlemen will not get lost on their way out. This is a vast mansion.«

Maxwell composed himself, snorted and marched towards the door.

When his boss had passed, Anderson backed off, securing their retreat. Alucard watched him over the barrel of the Casull. He appeared so motionless that Integra nearly mistook him for being undead again. Then, looking closely, she could see him panting in quick, shallow gasps through his slightly parted teeth.

Trying hard to keep up the illusion of not breathing at all.

Better make this quick, indeed!

»Maxwell? I hope, we've been able to settle your issue?« she called. Maxwell slammed the door, just as she had hoped, he would.

Alucard grinned, holding his stance, as if he expected Anderson to re-enter: »Thanks for speeding this up. - Whew. I feel woozy.«

»You know, Alucard, watching you gradually makes me think that breathing is a rare art, which we inborn humans just don't appreciate at its true complexity«, Integra deadpanned. »How. On. Earth. Did you manage to hold that gun as long as you did?«

Alucard had not moved: »Actually, I could use a little help at letting go of it.«

Suspiciously, Integra circled him to discover the secret of his stiffly raised arm. She found a thin metal pole attached to the Casulls butt-end. It was hidden on the inside of Alucard's wrist and disappeared in his sleeve.

»A makeshift brace, using tent poles, an old umbrella and a whole bunch of Walter's fighting wires«, Alucard explained. »A little adventurous, since I did not have time to try it out. I already found the first catch: Once the shoulder reinforcement is latched, it won't come free again.«

»What would you have done, if Anderson had forced you to fire this monster? The recoil could probably rip off your arm.« Integra was working at the clip that secured the heavy gun to the metal support.

»The only way, Anderson could have made me pull the trigger was by attacking me. In my present condition, I would not stand a chance against his blades, anyway, so the Casull's recoil was not really the point. I was gambling at high stakes.«

»You played your hand brilliantly. You fooled us all.«

»The idea is old, master. I remember getting badly wounded in battle once. My officers strapped a pole to my back to make me look like I could still sit upright in the saddle. It killed me, I tell you! Every single step of the damned horse was torture. But the effect on my enemy's troops was worth it.« Alucard gingerly moved his shoulder. »Guess, what purpose the pole was submitted to, afterwards?«

»Spare me! – Seras Victoria called in. She has found the witches house, but Ann is not in. There was, however, a note from her, stating that anyone seeking advice should return around midnight, since she was running a professional errand.«

»Practical girl«, Alucard mused.

»As there is no reason to believe otherwise, I assigned Seras to wait. Just in case the witch returns earlier. In the meantime, you and I are going out for dinner.«

»Dinner, master?«

»At Sir Witherspoon's mansion.«

»The self-proclaimed expert on occultism? Special interest in seals and bans?«

»That's the man«, Integra confirmed.

»Sir Witherspoon, who fears for his life every Friday night between seven and eleven p. m., ever since a certain incantation blew up in his face? He's been throwing a party every weekend for years.«

»No, he just carefully avoids spending the Friday evening hours alone. He engaged guards. And he would like to engage the Hellsing organisation as well.«

»I see. Now, your point would be...?«

»Anderson talked too much«, Integra said. »He mentioned a „heathen seal", Ann was supposed to place on you. It appears, Maxwell came to check, if it is working properly. Anderson is in doubt, since he's seen you phase through a wall, before the spell had taken full hold.«

»Idiot! He was an inch close to having to carve me out of those bricks.«

»He isn't aware of it, and after the impressive show, you staged ten minutes ago, he will believe even less that their plan worked out. I have no idea, if that is good or bad for us. Let's go and talk to the expert. Let's see, if Sir Witherspoon has some infomation of value for us.«

***End of Chapter 3***

Once more, that's it for today. Hope, you enjoyed. Let's leave Sir Integra to her well-earned tea, Seras Victoria to waiting for Ann and Alucard to finding out some more about the pitfalls of his new existence. See you at Sir Witherspoon's! Take care!