Xanxus had never really given much thought about his birth father. For a long time he had thought it was Timoteo, only to learn the hard, painful truth at the worst possible time.

Upon learning he was adopted, Xanxus had put the matter aside and never asked again. As the son of a whore, he knew that getting an actual ID on the guy was going to be next to impossible, especially considering the state his mother was in before he was taken from her.

He just never thought he'd come face to face with the man himself completely by accident, or the headaches it would spawn.

On the plus side, he wouldn't have to fear being bored for the coming months.

Xanxus was not in a good mood. The crappy car had broken down in some back-ass village in the middle of England and the repairs wouldn't be done for another two days. So he was stuck there until the car was fixed or one of his men came with a replacement.

He could suffer a lot of things, but gossipy idiots in the middle of nowhere pushed his last nerve, especially considering the looks that so-called priest was giving him.

Something about him was off and in a very bad way. Either he was one of those twisted fuckers who liked to dip into the choir boys, or he had some sort of dirty little secret that meant if it came out then the village would have a story to tell for years once it broke out in hushed whispers, likely either destroying the church or giving foreboding warnings to the poor bastard who had to come in and re-sanctify the place.

Not his problem unless the fucker pissed him off enough or they paid him to throw his dirty secrets wide open.

He had settled in for the night, wanting to sleep until well into the morning.

Except some stupid fuck had to go and start shooting from the direction of the church and a bunch of horror movie zombie-rejects started coming out of the building after some stupid cops.

Of course his already shitty luck would insist on insuring he was present for whenever the big showdown happened and the priest was exposed for the sick fucker he was. At least he had some entertainment while he watched.

At least until the zombie-rejects broke into his room, intent on infecting him.

Fuck that shit.

His X-Guns sounded off into the night, except when he hit the fuckers, they stayed down. Considering they looked like zombies, he didn't bother with any shot unless it was to the head. Even he knew that much zombie lore and it seemed to work.

After what seemed like hours, but was more like fifteen or twenty minutes of shooting any zombie stupid enough to rear their decaying, bloody heads near him, he found the annoying priest who

caused this mess and ruined his perfectly boring night.

"Fucking trash. Don't know what sort of weird fucking fetish you have with these zombie rejects, but you ruined a perfectly good night with this bullshit," said Xanxus, aiming his gun at them.

"Not one step closer, human! Not unless you want this little tart to die!" said the priest.

"She's a fucking cop. No skin off my back if some low-level flunkie ends up dead by a piece of fucking trash like you," Xanxus shot back without hesitation.

"Thanks a lot," snarked the blond with a rather impressive chest.

A few zombies tried to sneak up on him, but he blew their heads off without so much as turning while the other hand was leveled at the priest.

He was hungry, and pretty fucking pissed about wasting so much of his ammo on these rejects. It was going to take weeks to resupply and he'd have to listen to the miser brat bitch about the cost for days.

"Well this is unexpected," commented a voice from behind him. Xanxus wasn't stupid enough to take his attention off the fake priest, so instead angled his body so that he could look and still keep an eye on the fucker.

Only for Xanxus to nearly stop short, because he knew that man. He had never seen the bastard before in his life, but he knew him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Before the unknown man in red could say anything, the fake priest decided to use the distraction to kill them both.

Xanxus had just about had enough of this shit.

"You know what, fuck it."

He channeled his Wrath Flames into his guns and just started shooting. To hell with caring about witnesses, if the Vindice had a problem with it he'd kill them and be done with it. His night was already shitty enough as it was.

He wasn't the only one firing... the man in red was too. Xanxus briefly took a second or two to admire the hardware.

Whoever the man was, he had good taste in weapons.

The question he asked the police chick, however made Xanxus give him an odd look. What did it matter if the bitch was a virgin or not?

Seeing her bleed out, Xanxus checked for any more enemies. Oddly, they seemed to have disappeared with the fake priest. Then he noticed the other man bending down.

"You're not seriously planning to do her while she's bleeding out, are you?" he asked incredulous.

"Of course not," scoffed the other man. "Besides, there's a reason why I asked if she was untouched."

Seeing him feed the girl his blood of all things, Xanxus stared as he watched the massive wound in her chest start to heal over.

"What the fuck?"

The man stood up, and Xanxus noticed with some disbelief that his eyes were red. A very familiar shade of red he normally only saw in the mirror.

"Who or what are you? And what the fuck was with the zombie rejects."

The other man snorted.

"The zombie-rejects as you call them are known as ghouls. People bitten by a vampire that aren't virgins, or were the same gender as the one who turned them. As for what I am..."

The man flashed a bit of fang, and there was an ominous glow in his eyes.

"I should think it obvious, considering I just healed the little Draculina with my blood."

"...You know what, fuck it. I am not drunk enough to deal with the supernatural bullshit on top of everything else," said Xanxus after a moment.

The man cackled.

Outside the police cordon...

Integra thought it was a simple clean up...until Alucard walks out with not only a newly made vampire, but a survivor who bore a very strong resemblance to the vampire next to him.

"Walter...please tell me I'm imagining a younger version of Alucard with feathers in his hair and scarring on his face," said Integra, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I really wish I could," said Walter, just as horrified at the idea of Alucard procreating.

Alucard took one look at their expressions and grinned.

"Alucard, what the hell did you do?!" demanded Integra.

Alucard's grin was far too wide for her mental health. Except they were all distracted by the snort from the odd younger copy of him.

"Alucard, really? Who the fuck gave you a ridiculous name like that? At least come up with something original," he said with a slight accent.

"What's wrong with Alucard?" he asked.

The man gave Alucard an unimpressed look.

"It's Dracula spelled backwards," he deadpanned. "It's like calling a werewolf Lupine or 'Wolfie' for Christ's sake."

Alucard snorted at that. Integra and Walter's mellow was not helped, because the two men were far too similar for their sanity.

"Alucard, who is this?"

And why do you two look way too similar to be a coincidence, went unasked.

"The name's Xanxus. Stupid fuckers went and woke me up," said the younger red eyed man. "Not to mention wrecked my damn phone."

He looked at the remains of a fairly new cell phone with open annoyance. He was going to have to deal with a lot of bitching from the miser brat.

Alucard grinned.

"Then I guess you're stuck with us until your ride gets here."

"Unless you have some damn good liquor, you can go screw yourself," scowled Xanxus.

Integra had a headache.

"VOI! What the hell, shitty boss?" demanded Squalo. He barely dodged the glass thrown at him.

"Shut up, shark trash," said Xanxus. He was clearly in a foul mood if the number of liquor bottles around him was any indication.

"So this is one of your lackeys? You have good taste," commented a voice from behind Squalo.

The Rain went to impale whatever stupid fucker tried to sneak up behind him, only to stop cold at the fact that the one doing it looked way too much like his boss to be a coincidence.

"Voi. What the fuck?"

Xanxus just looked pissed about something.

In Italy

"Miser brat, what do you know about Vampires? And I don't mean the pop culture shit, but the real ones?" demanded Xanxus.

Mammon blinked and looked up from their accounting.

"This have anything to do with the number of bullets you used and the fact you lost your phone?"

"Some fucker started 'Night of the Living Dead' bullshit in the village I was stuck in. Then some asshole in red called Alucard came in and turned some police trash into a vampire."

Mammon had a pained expression on their face.

"Sounds like you had a run-in with the Hellsing organization. Alucard is the name of their pet vampire."

"Don't give a shit about that. I want to know why I knew him despite the fact this is the first time I've run into him," said Xanxus.

"You knew him?" repeated Mammon.

"Took one look at him and I knew him from somewhere, despite the fact I've never seen him before that."

"Ushishishi... It's possible you're one of his children."

Xanxus turned to look at his unhinged Storm officer.

"What."

"A Master Vampire is one of the few who can sire half-vampire children without killing the mother in the process. Alucard is easily strong enough to pull something like that off and it's well known he has a habit of hiring hookers and prostitutes for a bit of fun, shishishi."

Mammon eyed their usual partner warily.

"How do you know about Alucard?"

"Ushishishi... Because I am a prince."

"Bullshit. What's the real reason?" demanded Xanxus.

"We have a Master vampire in my family bloodline. Grandfather wasn't too pleased at how easily Raziel was taken out and he considers being part of the Varia good experience in learning how to control my powers," replied Belphegor immediately. "Depending on who has the best control and kill count, I might get picked to take the throne over that idiot."

"...That explains far too much," muttered Mammon.

"There's an easy way to test if Boss is half-vampire," said Belphegor.

"How?" asked Xanxus.

Belphegor tossed him a blood bag. It was his blood type, which really made him suspicious as to why the prince trash had that on hand.

"If you're half-vampire, then drinking that would heal over minor wounds almost instantly. If you're not...well, at least you won't get blood poisoning."

Xanxus looked dubious about the whole thing, but called Lussuria in just in case. He wasn't stupid after all.

He took out his boot knife and made a long cut down his left arm. It wasn't deep enough to require stitches, but it was enough to bleed freely. He looked at the blood bag warily, but decided to bite into it anyway.

The rush was like nothing he'd expected, and he noted that the cut began to almost steam, before the bleeding stopped. Belphegor looked very pleased and Lussuria was morbidly fascinated.

"Congrats Boss... You're half-vampire," said Belphegor happily.

He wasn't the only one with vampire blood in the Varia anymore.

"Mu. You're paying to clean up the blood," said Mammon annoyed.

Lussuria, eager to test out exactly what this new information meant, was rather surprised to learn that Xanxus could handle every blood type without an ill effects. But that wasn't the part that made Xanxus happy about this revelation of his heritage.

For every bag he drained in the name of experimenting with his newfound heritage, the scarring on his body started to heal over. Armed with that knowledge and the fact that they had a few bags of blood about to expire within the week, Xanxus let loose and devoured two more of them before he felt oddly full.

Belphegor was rather pleased, all told, that his Sky was more like him than he initially realized. He found himself with the rather odd duty of teaching Xanxus a few rules of 'etiquette' among the vampire and hybrid class that would make it easier to hide from the hunters.

If Xanxus really was the son of Alucard, Hellsing's pet vampire, by way of the Master vampire's habits concerning loose women, that meant he was damn near royalty among the vampire class who had actual sense.

It also meant that he got extra points for serving the Boss, since his bloodline ran a bit thicker than Belphegor's own and it was perfectly acceptable for a 'lesser' hybrid to serve under a Damphir of good standing.

Too bad blood tests were more or less useless when it came to vampires. Their blood had a habit of mixing together, making identification impossible so long as they fed regularly.

However considering Xanxus had recognized Alucard despite the fact he had never met the vampire, that was a pretty big sign that the Master Vampire was his sire...a fact that had several points in favor of it since Alucard was more inclined to sleep with hookers and not eat them later.

He was rather well known for saying with a cheeky smirk whenever the subject was brought up "Hookers are not food."