Hi there, it's great, you're back! LimeKiwiEye: Thanks for reviewing and pointing out the trouble with my quotation marks. Actually, I've wondered before, whether the special characters were okay for everyone. Hope, it works better for you now.

I do not own Hellsing or its related characters, and I do not make money with this.

This is a long chapter. (Please, don't tell me off. Alucard already did. Our mutual argument ran something like: "Just because you're screwing things up, I'm doing overtime, is that it?" Yes. That's it.) Enjoy.

+++Chapter 6+++

Ann took Seras back to the entrance of the tree. At the top of the stairs, she handed the draculina a white, smooth and pointy item.

Seras nearly dropped it: "It's a tooth!"

"The eye-tooth of a wolf," Ann confirmed. "Within, Sir Integra will find five drops of the water of Urda's well. A twig of an ash-tree, you will have to collect, when you're back in the open. Here. Don't forget your notes."

Seras folded the paper and pocketed it: "Thank you. Ann? You're a nice person."

"Your master calls me practical. I think, he had a point." Ann opened the door. It was dark, but the air still carried the warm smell of the sunny day. They could hear church bells chiming in the distance. "Ah," Ann said. "Midnight. A perfect time for you to be on your way, draculina."

"Wait? Where am I? This is not your backyard?" But the door had closed. Seras found herself talking to a tree. She looked about and felt a cold chill creep up her spine: She was in the very woods, where she had spent her first outdoor training camp. Before she had actually signed up to become a police girl.

So this was, where Ancient Mother Ash had located her „roots". Well, it probably made sense. All the other crucial events of her life and un-life after had stemmed from that decision.

But it placed her at quite a distance from London.

Tacitly apologising to the tree, she had emerged from, Seras broke off a twig. Sir Integra would need it later, for the ritual. She fastened the twig to her belt and started her long way home. Breaking into a trot, she got out her cell phone. Maybe, Walter could send someone to pick her up.

The bats were flocking together, a thousand dark fluttering bodies, milling and teeming, a chorus of whispering voices telling of a traveller coming from far, now being very close...

"Who is coming?" Alucard asked, and the bats started to melt into each other, forming the shape of a man. It was a man in his mid-fifties, and he grabbed Alucard by the collar: "Will you wake up and fight like the monster that you are?", he yelled in that terrible Dutch accent of his.

Alucard felt brutally shaken, but he knew, how to drive his captor crazy: "Why, sir?", he asked, smiling wickedly.

"Because I will not lose, what is mine, to that eccentrics' schemes!" As he'd done so many times before, Abraham Van Hellsing, the first of the dynasty that would entwine its fate with that of the No-life King, floored Alucard with a powerful blow of his fist. Today, however, the ground was soft and pliant.

Opening his eyes, Alucard found himself on a bed, surrounded by teddy bears. A brown cardboard was in front of his face. He squinted to read the message: "You must wake up, Count."

Another cardboard was slipped over the first one: "Squirrel says, Anderson is coming."

Taking an effort, Alucard leaned on his elbows: "Ann?"

She shook her head, showing him another previously prepared cardboard: "Sorry. Third eye. Visual only."

"Must've been Integra's cigar...," Alucard muttered, shaking his head.

Ann wrote: "I am a witch. Witches do magic. Now, wake up!"

She leaned forward and, using both hands, simply threw him off the bed.

Falling, thrashing, cursing...

Alucard awoke with a jerk. Dully, he stared at the horizon and wondered, what had happened to him and his coffin. Fading stars twinkled in the distance. Only the morning star stood tall, a brightly shining diamond in the greying sky. On closer inspection, Alucard found himself curled up under a blanket that faintly smelled of his master's cigars and perfume. Now, he remembered: He was on the roof over Integra's room.

His master had been with him, but now she was gone. Something about a midnight phone call. Walter and Seras coming over. Had he dreamed that, as well? Then, what was that part about Anderson and a squirrel?

Alucard sat up. By and large, he was alright, albeit parched and a little hungover. Integra's refill of his cocktail glass and subsequent order to drain it had slammed the vodka into his bloodstream like the blunt side of a blessed bayonet against his head. He vaguely remembered clinging to her stable frame and reasoning with her that he could not possibly get down to the balcony safely. He'd claimed, that he would break his neck, and then Walter would surely kill him.

It now occurred to him, that they had not really reasoned at all. Integra had not needed to be convinced that she'd better not make him move anywhere but to a horizontal position.

But it seemed that the first twenty minutes, the onslaught of dizziness and nausea, had actually been the worst.

Alucard climbed down the ladder now and tip-toed through Integra's bedroom. She was asleep, as she was supposed and entitled to at four o'clock in the morning.

"Please understand that I do not mean to be disrespectful," he told her. "But you're one hell of a dreadful barkeeper, master."

She smiled in her sleep and turned over on her back, resting her head on her crooked arm.

Alucard used her bathroom, trying hard to keep his mind on other things than the revolting business itself. He looked at the faucet, touched his hand to the water jet and licked up the drops.

Damn, you behave like the police girl in front of a blood-stained weapon, he told himself, filled his hands and drank. The cold water felt good and cleared his head.

Silently, he got Integra's keycard out of her jacket and slipped into the corridor.

The grey light of dawn seeped though the high windows and mixed with the electric illumination of the hallways. Creeping down the corridor, Alucard heard distant voices. He reached the entrance hall and peeped around the corner: At the bottom of the broad stair, standing on the beautiful mosaic of the mansion owner's family crest, were Maxwell and Anderson. Witherspoon's butler had just let them in and was talking to them in a hushed voice. The light reflected from Anderson's glasses, warning Alucard just in time to withdraw, as the paladin followed the butler's gesturing hand to the upper floor.

Alucard retreated to Integra's room and cursed softly, when the darkness behind the drawn curtains affected his vision like a black velvet blindfold being pulled down over his eyes.

Integra stirred and sighed. Alucard followed the sound, found the bed, found his master's hair, and neck, and shoulder and, gently, started shaking: "Master! Integra! Wake up!"

Integra came out of deep slumber, but she recognised the familiar shape immediately: "Oh! You're awake? How do you feel?"

Alucard handed her her glasses: "Master, I need to get out of here!"

"What? Why?"

He put his forefinger on his lips and motioned her to listen. Now, she heard it too: Someone was sneaking in the corridor.

Being used to nightly surprises, Integra lost no time. She slipped past Alucard to put on her shoes and jacket. The pants, she tied around her waist: She would change them later, for now, her striped pyjama would have to do.

The footfalls slowed, then halted.

A door was broken down. A voice boomed, it seemed to shake the foundations of the mansion: "AMEN!"

Alucard and Integra dashed for the balcony.

"Third floor," Alucard said, looking down. "This won't work."

"Grab the ivy!" Integra was already over the rail, climbing down fast. Alucard whistled softly: She was quick-witted for someone, who'd been sound asleep only two minutes earlier.

Following her example, he suddenly knew, he'd become the type of night owl, who would go nowhere without his first and second cup of black coffee. Awesome, their meetings at the breakfast table were going to be just awesome! Poor Walter was in for the bacon-and-egg of his life...

"He's in your room," Integra looked up at the balcony next to the one, they had escaped from.

"He's after me, not you, master!", Alucard said. "You should not have come with me. Safe yourself!"

Integra proudly straightened her back: "Hellsing does not run away from our enemys!"

"Hellsing just did," her companion pointed out.

Blades came flying at them, spiking the ground and effectively cutting off any further argument. They set off at full speed, Integra naturally taking the lead, Alucard hot on her heels. They dove for the cover of the bushes, zig-zagging through Greek arcades, Celtic stone circles and even an Aztec temple replica. Quite suddenly, Integra halted. Alucard only just evaded bumping into her.

He saw the obelisk that marked the center of the park, some hundred yards to their left. There were olive and pine trees, vines, arcades and a statue of a wolf suckling two pudgy babes. They obviously had entered the Italian section of the pleasure grounds.

Integra lifted the lower branches of a huge green plant: "Under here! Hurry!"

Alucard leered: "Do I get to practically sit on you again?"

"Not before I've changed my pants! Turn around!"

Squatting under the bush, Alucard watched out for Anderson. Behind him, Integra quickly slipped out of her pyjama and put on the pants of her business suit. She was just done, when a beep in her jacket made both of them jump. Surprised, she pulled out her cell phone and stared at the gleaming display: "It's Walter!"

"It's ‚Rule, Britannia, Rule the Waves' at full volume! Make it stop!"

Integra thumbed the button and held the phone slightly tilted for Alucard to listen in: "Walter? Walter, thank goodness, listen, we - "

"Sir Integra? Seras and I have arrived, but it seems, you are not in your room."

"We're huddled beneath some giant rhododrendron with Anderson on our tracks."

"Oh dear! Yes, with Maxwell and all those bayonets struck around this place, I was already afraid, you might be. An 'rhododrendron argyrophyllum maximus', you said?"

"Er..."

Alucard moved Integra's hand to whisper urgently into the cell phone: "The big one near the obelisk. Hurry!"

"Ah, very well!" Walter was silent, then said: "Yes, that's it. Hang on! We'll be with you in... ah, about three minutes. Roughly estimated."

"How did you know?" Integra asked, when she stowed away her cell phone.

"What?"

"This „rhododendron-something-maximus"?"

"Walter seemed to know!" Alucard shrugged. "I found out long ago that that is enough. He was probably on the balcony, using binoculars. Or he simply asked the police - " Seeing Integra's eyes widen, Alucard turned to find himself face to face with Anderson. Because of the gleaming, round glasses, the paladin was all owl's eyes and toothy grin: "Look, who's hiding like a rabbit!"

"Don't you dare assess my actions by interpreting your observations!" Enraged, Alucard snatched Integra's gun from her hand and fired it at Anderson. Six bullets in quick succession, square in the head, with Integra trying to stop him.

"I meant to tell you," she said, when the hammer clicked. "I don't have my spare ammo with me."

"That hurt even less than your verbal attack!" Anderson got to his feet. "Where's your real gun, vampire?"

Alucard dropped Integra's weapon and tackled him, landing a punch on Anderson's jaw. And a kick to the paladin's ribs. He felt grabbed by a strong hand and he strained to break free. Next thing, he knew, was a thumping noise, followed by a dull throb in his skull and blood exploding from his nose. His knees buckled, but Anderson held him up by his collar. Somewhere, Integra cursed and screamed for Anderson to stop. The paladin's next punch felt like Alucard's right cheekbone was going to pieces. The backhand slap brought tears to his eyes. But he was not yet defeated. He leaned into the fist that was holding his weight, kicked with both legs and hit Anderson in the stomach. The paladin staggered and got out a fistful of bayonets. Alucard dodged them and landed flat on his stomach.

He spotted Integra down on her hands and knees in some meters distance. She turned over, sat down and held her head.

"Integra?" Unable to get up, Alucard started to crawl over to her. "Are you alright?"

"Don't worry..." But she rather sounded like he should worry a lot, actually.

Alucard turned to Anderson: "What did you do?"

"She got in the way," the paladin said.

"What did you do?"

"She tried to grab my arm and was flung aside, when I punched you." Anderson explained, as the vampire staggered to his feet.

"I'm going to kill you for that," Alucard told him, very calmly.

"How? Splitting my sides with laughter?" Anderson watched, as his reeling opponent gathered up two bayonets.

"No. Splitting your skull with your own, blessed blades."

"Amen!" Anderson charged.

Alucard dodged the blade, and when it came whizzing back, he countered it with the weapon in his right hand, striking out with his left. His bayonet drew blood. Andersons growled and attacked again. Alucard side-stepped him easily, pivoted and slashed. Again, his blade hit home.

Anderson was flabbergasted: "What are you doing?"

An uncanny gleam shone in Alucard's eyes, even though they were not red: "I already told you: I'm going to kill you."

"I heard you!" Anderson screamed. "But you never before engaged in swordfight!"

"I have," Alucard weaved his blades in an intricate pattern. "I did. Only it's so very long „before"."

When Alucard approached Anderson, he did for once not wear his trademark maniac grin. He looked utterly calm and concentrated. His bearing was regal. The bayonets seemed to befit his hands perfectly, now that he'd decided to wield them. The count from fifteenth century Europe had not always used guns to kill. The Jackal and the Casull were his modern time favorites, but measured by the span of his life as a warrior, they were like birthday presents just unwrapped.

And now they were swordfighting, and what a fight it was! Alucard remembered Walter's advice to rely on instinct, speed and dexterity, and he used it to make up for Anderson's greater strength. Anderson's blades hit trees, bushes, statues, benches, hedges and even the obelisk. They never hurt his opponent. Alucard dodged and jumped, blocked and side-stepped, careful to never stand still long enough to be an easy target. He did not act cowardly, only played it very, very safe, as he kept watching out for his opportunities.

And he found them, in surprising numbers: When it came down to fencing, the former warlord quickly proved the superior fighter, by far. So much so that Alucard soon cursed his own pitifully limited strength and Anderson's damned regeneration: If this had been a matter of skill only, the paladin would be on his knees by now!

But even with the sharpest blade, it's not easy to cut off someone's head at one stroke. Especially, if that head's attached to a neck and shoulders, sized and muscled like those of a small bull. Alucard saw his attempt to crucially hurt Anderson fail for about the fifth time, and leaped onto a statue to think of a new strategy. It was a prancing bronze horse, and Alucard balanced with difficulty on the slippery back of the beast.

Anderson looked up at him. The deep slash in his neck was already healing.

Enervated by the futility of his attempts, Alucard claimed the offensive. Leaping over Anderson's head, he planned to stab the paladin from above and then, two seconds later, from behind. But he had calculated the stunt from a vampiric point of view. He simply could not catapult himself in a high arc, so instead of giving Anderson trouble, he was in danger of being plucked out of the air like a speared duck. When he landed on his right foot, intending to pivot and charge, his ankle gave way.

Yelping with surprise and pain, Alucard lost a precious second, catching his balance. He looked up, and his eyes opened wide: "Shit!"

Anderson's blade tore downward. It dug into Alucard's shoulder, smashed the collar-bone, was deflected by it and got stuck in the upper ribs. Alucard choked, torn between the urge to screetch like a banshee and the inability to get air into his lungs.

"Choking on one's own blood feels nasty, even for you." Anderson used both hands on the heft, since his opponent's full weight seemed to bear down on the bayonet. "But you may beg me to end your suffering, monster, and it shall be done."

"Never - begging," the staked vampire whispered and, gasping painfully, added: "Kill me - anyway?"

Anderson narrowed his eyes: "Have you been baptised a Catholic?"

"Er? What?"

"Answer me! Have you been baptised a Catholic?"

"Yes! Yes, I was!" Alucard all but shouted at his inquisitor. He felt like he'd witnessed a very similar situation before, but he was in too much pain, he just could not remember the circumstances right now.

Anderson's bearing seemed to falter a tiny bit: "So I was told. Order of the Dragon. Fighter for the Holy Roman Catholic Church. The Holy Father once commended you..."

"Good old times..."

"Shut up!" Anderson reached out with his forefinger. Alucard tried to turn away, but Anderson touched his finger to the tears of pain that leaked from the corners of the auburn eyes. Reproachfully, he showed the clear liquid to his captive: "No blood! No monster! Simply and ordinarily human. Why did you – why did that British Protestant moron not tell us, when he called Enrico?"

Amazed, Alucard realised that Anderson was really pissed.

"A human being and a christened Catholic, to make things complicated!", the paladin fumed. "What did you mean to do? Trick me into killing you, to drag my soul into the abyss of mortal sin and damnation?"

"The two of us together in hell," Alucard croaked. "A holiday to look forward to, huh?"

"Shut your fiendish mouth! Idiot!" The paladin held fast on the bayonet and used his right arm to support the vampire's weight as he lowered Alucard to the ground. Even though Anderson tried to go gently, the pain was excruciating. Alucard was determined to lose neither his dignity nor his consciousness in the presence of his enemy. Through the haze of his struggles, he heard Anderson recite: "Thou shalt not kill, speaketh the Lord. Only the unnatural creatures, the blood-sucking monster and undead that shun His light must be chastised by the blessed swords...and heathens and heretics will feel His wrath - argh!"

Accompanied by the sound of a very familiar gun, the support of Anderson's hands vanished. His droning voice was replaced by Walter, exclaiming: "Alucard? Good heavens!"

Alucard blinked and turned his head: Integra was there, and Maxwell, held in check by Hellsing soldiers. Seras Victoria stood some metres away. She clutched the Casull with both hands. Obviously, she had waited for her master to be safely on the ground, before she pulled the trigger.

"Eh! That's my gun, police girl," Alucard said sullenly.

"Sorry," Seras whispered. Unthinking, she held it out to him.

"You may keep it for now," Alucard said, feeling, in a dreamy way, very magnanimous. "I might, however, need it later."

Anderson, who was recovering from the silver bullet in his back, shrugged: "Until next time, Alucard. If you're a monster then."

Laughing softly, to show that he was looking forward to that fight, Alucard passed out.

He was unconscious for no longer than a few minutes. When he came around, Integra knelt beside him: "Bad news, Alucard. Walter says, we cannot remove that blade in your shoulder, without risking your life. Since you've not choked or bled to death by now, we can assume that so far no vital parts have been ruptured. But it might yet happen, on the way to or even during surgery. Your life is suspended on a thin thread. You must decide, whether you place it in the hands of surgeons – or a mythical creature."

"I'll opt for the norn. She has a thousand years of experience with the maintaining of life-threads."

"But I have none with ancient rituals!"

"There's always a first time, master."

Integra snorted: "Even for cursing in Spanish."

Alucard nodded knowingly: "Or blowing off heads, if you've got a gun."

Even in the presence of bystanders, they definitely had their means to let each other know: I'm worried. And it's your damned fault!

Again!

+++End of chapter 6+++

A/N: Well, so far, so good... Not much to point out this time. Hope, you enjoyed - please, feel free to review - thanks for reading & "CU" soon.