A/N: Ok Kids, you ready for this? It's that long awaited lemon you've all been begging me for, I only hope it meets the expectations of the many :S

Oh gawd, I'm suddenly not so sure about posting this :( Forgive me if it's terrible :(

Please forgive this latest installment.

P.S. May I recommend the song Recessional by Vienna Teng as an appropriate soundtrack to this chapter? Thanks.

The Table-top Tristesse.

"You directly disobeyed my orders!" Sir Integra roared, swiping her hand across in front of her and sending the cup of tea that was placed on her desk flying. The hot liquid splashed onto the table top and the cup and saucer crashed to the floor, smashing. "That is what you have done!"

A number of weeks ago, a change was perceptible in Seras. It began with the revelation of Mina and had become more obvious as time went on. Less was seen of the young Vampyrress, apparently preferring the solitude of the basement to the humanity of the upstairs. The infantry had refused to train with her recently due to some mishaps in the arena, guns cleft in twain, areas previously put to the left were now all of a sudden on the right. The female vampire was the obvious candidate for these atrocities and had gone from being labelled as powerful but creepy, to dangerous.

Alucard had been strangely absent as well, but unlike his fledgling he wasn't causing any problems. Sir Integra had no doubt that he was the reason behind her foul mood and sudden change of attitude, but when summoned to her office and asked to spill his guts, all he could tell her was that Seras was having trouble coming to terms with the loss of the Frenchman and the existence of Mina. He was deemed utterly useless and dismissed.

Further mishaps had followed, constantly being brushed off as accidents, but this latest transgression could not be overlooked.

This evening Sir Integra had summoned Seras to her with the instruction to bring a cup of tea. It was the first shred of interaction that was sought out between the two women since the fiasco with Mina and was always going to be tense. But the spilt cup of tea was not part of the intended plan. The plan was to reprimand Seras for her reckless behaviour and to order her to sharpen up her act and quit moping in the cellar. However, dealing with the vampire's sullen attitude had proven too much for her.

"Do you know why you're here?" Sir Integra asked stiffly as Seras clattered the cup of tea onto the desk. She was unusually careless with the beverage.

Seras shrugged noncommittally and jammed her hands in her pockets. Sir Integra felt her eyebrow twitch at the blatant test of her authority. See, this was exactly the problem she was talking about.

"You're here because or your recent behaviour." Sometimes it felt like dealing with little children. Stupid little children. She let a patronizing note slip into her voice as she snarled, "Can you tell me what you've done?"

"No." Seras said brazenly, "I don't even know why I'm in here."

"I was only going to tell you off about your appalling behaviour in the training arena!" Sir Integra grit, aged voice strained and cracking a little with the effort, but none the less frightening. Seras actually took a step back; she may have been all front and bravado at the minute, but the two women were friends and did not often shout at each other. "But your disgusting-" She spat the word "behaviour continues in here! How dare you treat my cup of tea as a chore?! I requested you brought me some tea but the right to refuse was yours, so don't give me this shit! Pick up that cup!"

Seras bent obediently to retrieve the broken cup and placed it on the desk. Sir Integra's eyes flashed behind her glasses.

"Is it so much to ask for you to do as I say? Well?"

"No, Sir."

"Then why did you disobey me in Harwich?"

Seras was silent again and Sir Integra's hands began to shake with barely supressed rage. "A young boy died because of you."

"It's endless."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This battle you're fighting is endless, worthless. It will never get better than this, Sir."

"It is not in your place, vampire, to tell me what is worthless." Sir Integra snapped, digging hurriedly in her coat pocket for a lighter and her cigar case, pulling them out amid muffled cursing. Seras stood silent in wait.

After a number of quiet minutes had passed, Sir Integra emerged from behind her desk, much calmer now with a lit cigar in her hand and the new influx of nicotine coating her blood. She approached Seras and used two fingers to push aside the collar of her uniform shirt, exposing the silver collar and plaque that rested on her collarbones.

"You are a vampire of the Hellsing Organisation." Sir Integra spoke, thick cigar smoke billowing from her mouth and filling Seras' nostrils. A beloved, but resentful smell. "And that means you are bound to my will. If I order you to move to a location, you move to a location; if I order you to destroy a battalion, you destroy a battalion; if I order you to bring me a cup of tea and put it nicely on the table, you put it nicely on the table. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"This collar marks you as my dog, my little pet monster and if you will not do as I command, I will have you destroyed, like any other dogs who ignore their masters' orders. Is that clear?"

A dark emotion flickered in the depths of Seras head, but she nodded regardless. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Sir Integra shook her head gravely, "I'm afraid, Seras, that you're not. Not yet." She tapped the silver plaque, "All of your powers will be sealed until you have fully learnt your lesson."

"But, Sir!" Seras blurted; all of her powers! But that meant… What about mind reading?! She wouldn't be able to talk to her master – not that she wanted to, but in the future it might change. She'd have to rely on him being constantly in her thoughts! Which might actually be the case because she would be unable to shut him out if she couldn't use her powers…

"No, Seras!" Sir Integra snapped, voice raised, "You must learn! You are not a free creature! You have a master – me! I can control your freedom! You have no idea how much freedom I have allowed you in the past, but it was too much!"

"But-!"

"That's enough, Seras." She was cut off and Sir Integra put her cigar to her lips, watching Seras through the smoke, as though contemplating the rest of her punishment. "For disobeying my orders, your powers will be sealed. For your dangerous conduct in the training arena you are henceforth placed under house arrest until further notice. And for the death of that child…" Another drag and another few agonising seconds. "You're confined to the basement."

The basement? Anger began to bubble up at the apparent unfairness of her punishments; she wasn't going to be allowed to do anything! "For how long?"

"Until I decide you're sorry."

"But I'm sorry now!"

"Don't whine," Sir Integra said levelly, ignoring the fangs that were now bared at her and the fisted hands that were shaking at Seras' sides. "You're dismissed."

"This isn't fair!"

"Yes it is."

"No it's not! I wasn't-"

"I don't care what you think, that is my decision, now get out."

"S-"

"Get. Out."

Virtually spitting her fury across the room, Seras stomped her foot, cracking the tile she trod on and letting an animalistic roar bellow from her lungs. She scrunched her eyes shut and roared again, every fibre of her being screaming at her that the woman before her would be an easily removed annoyance. Her sentencing was unfair, utterly unfair and there was – apparently – nothing that could be said to change Sir Integra's mind. Hell, the woman wouldn't even let her get a word in edgeways.

Sir Integra seemed completely calm and unperturbed by the exhibition of strength and frustration in front of her. Even when Seras stopped bellowing her anguish to the ceiling and pointed a bloody fingertip – half-moon circles were bitten into her palms and they dripped blood onto the floor – at her, she hardly moved at all. There was, however, nothing that the young vampire could think to say to describe her feelings for the fury she felt was beyond all mortal words and so all that escaped her throat was a growl, guttural and low, before she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. Not before beating the crap out of a coat stand though and hurling it across the room to crash into one of Sir Integra's glass cabinets, spilling antique weapons and mysterious devices all over the floor. Even the door slipped a little on its hinges as it slammed shut in her wake.

The trip down to the dungeons was a noisy one, paintings were sent flying from their hooks and hanging lights – annoying even on the best of days – were ripped from the ceiling and hurled as hard as possible along the corridors. But the collateral damage did nothing to quell the feelings of hatred and betrayal that were swirling around in Seras' head.

She shouldered open the entrance to the dungeons and took the stairs two at a time. If Sir Integra – no, scratch that! If 'that woman' wanted her to stay in the dungeons then so be it! She would never ever come out again. Ever! She'd make it hell for anyone who went down there and- And-!

She was nearly crying by the time she arrived outside her door and threw the piece of ebony wide, storming in but stopping abruptly at the sight of her master sat in her throne, waiting for her, presumably.

What the hell was he doing here? Here to gloat over her weakness, was he? She stomped over to her dresser and yanked the top drawer out, spilling the contents on the floor with a curse. Tears actually did begin leaking from her eyes as she sifted through the underwear and socks on the floor, looking for one of the packets of cigarettes she had stashed away in there. Finding it, she stood up and snatched the zippo off the top of the dresser. But the fucking thing wouldn't light. Empty.

"Fuck!" She gasped, slamming it shut. Then, as if an after-thought, hurling it out the door. She tore the cigarette from her lips and tossed that out too, but it didn't make nearly as big an impact as she would have liked. And all the while Alucard sat silently, watching her. She could practically feel him laughing at her already.

"Go away." She growled, her back to him.

"Why?"

"Oh, like you don't fucking know," She scoffed, turning around, managing a mirthless laugh. "Why else would you be here but to gloat?!"

He remained silent, red eyes roving over her face, her dishevelled appearance, the strands of hair that had stuck themselves to the bloody tears on her cheeks, one lock of sunshine yellow trapped in the corner of her mouth. Angry eyes glower at him from under quivering brows.

"Why would I gloat at you?" He asked, crossing his legs but allowing one hand to rest on the table top. Seras' eyes followed the fingers as they drew a lazy circle on the wood. "Because of your failure as a servant? Because of your weakness without your powers?" She narrowed her eyes even further, until they were nothing but glowing slits in her face, brimming with tears, sticking the lashes together even as he watched. "You've done all this before, Police Girl. So why should I gloat?"

He looked as though he were going to give her the chance to speak and defend herself, but the moment she opened her mouth, he cut her down again.

"Or it is your inability to control yourself with this wild display?"

"Oh, shut up!" She shouted, throwing her hands up in the air, looking as though she wanted to rip her own hair out – or his – at any second. "I just got all this from that bitch upstairs!" Alucard bristled at the slur, "I don't need it from you!"

"Then what do you need from me?" He growled, rising from his seat and taking a step towards her. She took a step back and another, and another until she was backed up against the dresser and his fingers had wrapped around the collar – still exposed from when Sir Integra uncovered it – at her throat. He twisted it around his fingers until what little breathing space there was had been eaten up and the silver chain bit into her skin. "A lesson perhaps on how to hold your tongue?"

"Have I ever told you how much you bossing me about turns me on?" She sneered bravely, brows bent low over her glowering eyes. Her voice was indeed laced with sarcasm, but the grin that crossed Alucard's face was, in a word, beautiful. Wide and toothy, a wolf's grin etched onto a monster's lips.

"So make a move, Little Bird."

She glared at him as best she could, but before long the blood that was coursing sluggishly around her body began to bottle up in her veins and her head began to feel tight, as though her throat wasn't the only thing being compressed. Her master's visage began to sway in front of her as her eyes lost their focus, but her anger did not dissipate, despite her fear.

A tiny growl was all she could emit as she strained against his hold, pushing against the chain until the skin – which had quickly built a purple bruise beneath the line of the chain - split around it and blood squirted from the crevasse in her skin, splattering onto Alucard's waistcoat. With a quite tsk made under his breath, Alucard bent to taste the blood on her throat, fangs itching to dig themselves into her soft, white flesh. He wasn't allowed to get that far, however, as the action of leaning forward had loosened the chain's vice on Seras' throat and the vampyrress managed to throw him off her. He staggered back into the table, scattering the chairs as Seras virtually fell upon his chest, grabbing the waistcoat and shirt together and tearing them apart. His brass buttons pinged off, bouncing off Seras' body and tinkling to the floor.

Now it was her turn to go for his throat – she'd been holding herself back from tearing his bloody throat out all week, but now there were no reasons to resist – teeth snapping shut mere millimetres from breaking his skin, before he flattened her against the table top, his fingers caught again in the chain, warding her off and holding it taught to the table.

He clicked his tongue at her again and shook his head as his free hand completed the task of unclothing his torso. "I never gave you permission to drink my blood, Police Girl."

She swallowed thickly – from nerves or agitation she couldn't tell around the fluttering in her stomach – and replied, "I never give you permission to drink my blood."

He lowered his face to hers, cold breath ghosting across her lips, fanning over her cheeks. "I don't need your permission." 'You're mine.'

An undefinable something flicked on like a torch behind her eyes, narrowed and blazing, and she crashed her lips into his, their fangs clicking together with the force. He had to admit he was slightly surprised by her brazen behaviour, but then again there was more than just a little bit of truth in those words; 'Have I ever told you how much you bossing me about turns me on?'. No, but she didn't need to. He knew what turned her on; blood did the trick, so did the chain around his fingers, the idea that he owned her – that he wanted to own her… Being thrown about seemed to work too. Anything that suggested a thrill, a fight, a battle. She was a hunter, born predator and his bossing her about and dominating her certainly turned her on. It wasn't just her personally, it was a vampire thing.

He twisted the chain more sharply around his fingers – keeping her still and happy – while the fingers of his other hand went to work unbuttoning her shirt. Her fingers had slid into his hair on the commence of their lip-lock and they tightened to painful degrees when he slipped his gloved hand inside her shirt, caressing the curve of one breast through the material of her bra – satin, he noted with appreciation – before stroking over her belly to the waistline of her skirt.

The sharp feeling that raced over his skull was one he had sorely missed and he let a snarl escape around her lips before he allowed his mouth to follow his fingers. As he nosed apart the front of her shirt however, an extra hard yank dislodged his lips and dragged him back up to her eye level.

"Mina." She managed to say before he sealed her lips with another kiss. He'd intended on not allowing her to speak, knowing already what it was she wanted to say and how important she considered it to be, but hadn't caught her in time. He rolled his eyes at the rest of her unvoiced question and unstuck himself from her mouth, grumbling into her mind as he traced her throat with his tongue again, 'Doesn't matter.'

"Did you and she ever-?"

"No." He growled, temper fraying; couldn't she just enjoy this? Let herself become slave to her own desires without thinking about anything else, for a little while? "Shut up."

A look of indignant fury blazed immediately in her eyes and, with a surprising show of strength, she turned them over on the table, slamming his shoulders hard onto the wood and sitting up to straddle his hips. She opened her mouth to make an undoubtedly snide remark, but he cut her off, turning them over again and slamming her shoulders down in much the same fashion as she had done to him, eliciting a sharp gasp from the smaller creature. He was intent upon finishing what they started. They were now in the middle of the table and the number of chairs still standing around it had dwindled to one, the throne Alucard had previously been sat in.

Her skirt was shoved up to her hips before she could think of any protests, but if she was being honest with herself her mind was blank for a reason. A need had arisen with his rough handling of her and although she was disgusted at its cause she couldn't deny that it was desire, of the sinful variety. Her master's pupils were as dilated as ever she had seen them and his usually thin lips had taken on a slightly swollen appearance from her kisses. He was, in a word, divine. And beginning to unbuckle his belt.

Her mouth was going dry with the anticipation and the thought was hardly encouraging. Since when was she hungry for sex? With her master, of all people? If it were Pip…

"Don't think of him." Alucard growled, towering above her, sat back as he was on his heels, looking down at her along his nose.

"It was just a second." She grumbled, sitting up and – mustering her courage – pressing her own swollen lips to his sternum. A rumble of semi-approval reverberated through his chest and into her fangs and he tilted her chin up to kiss her again, left hand already pushing one of her legs wide while his right twisted through the chain again and forced her back down onto the table. He eased himself out of his trousers, her panties were shoved aside and the next moment her walls had been breached.

The pain wasn't the mind-splitting thing she had expected; it was sharp at first and then it seemed to burn, almost like an acid sting. He didn't allow her any time to adjust, however, seemingly intent on satisfying himself and virtually ignoring her. Unnecessary breath escaped in a hiss as he released her mouth and, using his teeth, pulled her bra out of the way, shoving it up over her breasts. Her fingers found the table's edge as his lips and tongue descended upon one dusky peak. It was all she could do to hang on as the pain between her thighs turned languidly into the beginnings of pleasure and the fingers of Alucard's left hand gripped her thigh, indenting her flesh.

The room was quiet and still, for as long as it had taken the pair to get to that state, they slipped back out of it very quickly. It was like an engine winding down; the frenzied buzz of the gears slowing to a few clicks and then perfect stillness.

Seras stared blankly up at her ceiling as her master's breath blew coolly across her bare chest, his mouth open, forehead braced against her collarbone. If he were to move at all, she would feel it and she knew she would not enjoy it. The last few moments of their exchange saw her walls tear around his assault and the pleasantly white-hot heat which had been curling up around her belly was suddenly replaced by excruciating pain. It was all she could do not to cry out, biting her lip instead, culling all sounds that might escape her.

Now that the deed was done she was a lot calmer, drained. It would have appeared that the release of the tensions between herself and her master was what was really needed, although it still didn't excuse him for Mina. Yes, they may have made up, but the fact still remained that he had kept her existence a secret.

'Is there anything else I should know, Master?' She asked, pushing thoughts of Mina and the Battle of London towards him.

The reply she was granted was a sleepy one. 'You've no idea how to savour a moment, do you? And you don't have to call me master anymore.'

'You're still my master.' So he was savouring the moment. Why? This wasn't a moment to be savoured. It was a moment to be cast aside quickly before either one of them realised the mistake they'd just made.

'What makes this a mistake, Seras?' He lifted his head from her chest, red eyes peering like deep dark bloody pools from under curling jet black bangs. He was Vladimir Tepes right now, not quite her master. Unrecognisable.

'You're a stranger.' She said, shutting her eyes. She didn't even want to look. What Pip would think of her now… She didn't even want to think… A disappointed sigh was the only warning she was given before Vladimir disengaged them from one another. Seras slipped a pained hiss as the last vestige of him was removed from her. She had heard tell of an 'empty' feeling when two lovers parted and she didn't think that this was it. This empty feeling was more than just physical, it was deep-reaching and encompassing, touching her poor little heart and shattering any hopes of returning to the carefree, wholesome young woman she used to be.

'Do you regret this?' Vladimir asked, almost conversationally, as he bent to pick up one of the chairs that had been knocked over in their initial encounter, setting it upright and sitting on it. He had already corrected his trousers and was buttoning his shirt up again, even though only three buttons remained intact.

Seras watched as he smoothed his mane out of his eyes and adjusted his shirt cuffs, then turned her head away when he threatened to make eye contact. He was Vladimir Tepes in her master's clothing. She didn't want to look. She didn't even want to consider… 'I don't have time to regret things. It comes with the territory.'

He offered her no reply, but she continued regardless, she didn't need his permission this time. 'I'm a vampire. If I were to regret all the things I've done in this life, all the people I've killed on orders alone, all the people I've let die…' She huffed a sigh into the silent room. 'But worse than that; if I regretted all the things I've done to myself… There would be nothing left of me.'

Still not looking at him, she tried gingerly to sit up on the edge of the table, but the pain was too great and she ended up merely curled over the edge, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Vladimir stood from his chair, his footsteps quiet on the stone tiles and entirely unwanted. The last thing she wanted was him to come over while she was in this state. She might have said she didn't regret it, but the reality was diametrically the obvious. Of course she regretted this, it was a rash decision made in the heat of an angry moment.

His fingers were cold on her bare shoulder as he teased her gently from the edge of the table, uncurling her so she lay flat on her back. Wordlessly, he dropped to his knees between her thighs and nuzzled through her curls, putting cold lips to her core.

'Wh-!? Master…' She grimaced, fingers affixing themselves again to the edges of the table and she tried not to yelp or squirm under his tongue as he lapped at the entrance to her sex… And wounds…

'Vladimir.' He corrected. 'Don't regret something like this, Little Bird.' He peered up at her again and this time she met his eyes. 'Or it was a long road to ruin', was what his gaze was telling her and she allowed her head to fall back against the table, red welling up in her eyes. She pressed a palm over her mouth and tried not to make a sound as her tears tracked lines towards the table, getting caught up in her hair and soaking in, staining the golden locks a dirty orange. Because despite how much she wanted, needed to do as he said, how could she not regret this elaborate excuse for a suicide?

A/N: So... This is awkward... Should I start running now? Or wait until you've lit your torches and gathered your pitch-forks?

I don't usually like to churn something out like this until I'm satisfied with it, but it's taken me four days to write and this is, believe it or not Ladies and Gents, attempt number eight. Yup, eight. I was going crazy with this thing; kneeling on the floor before my computer for a good long while, bowing a praying that it would inspire me somehow; talking to myself in Alucard's voice as I kick my cup of coffee across the room (unintentionally); standing on my head, attempting to re-create the head-rushing bit to see if any Seras-ish thoughts popped into my head... It's a good thing I live alone I tell you, otherwise the men in white coats would have whisked me away by now...

Oh and just in case some people are a bit sniffy about Alucard's cunnilingus-post-sex; I don't imagine it's the kind of thing that would bother him.

So yeah, please tell me what you thought (not sure I can bare any criticism in the fragile state I'm in though, so go easy on me folks), requests for different lemons (as they say, the first time is always the hardest ;) ) or just a friendly chat with a newly-turned-crazy person!

-Lapin