Seras impulsively scrunched her nose as the stench of cigarette smoke hit her in the face. She always hated smokers, though everyone and their mother seemed to be one in this city. The VIP section was far different from the rest of the club, with smooth and quiet music and a red, velvety interior quality. It was like the Ritz- or at least a knock-off version. A woman danced on a similarly styled stage, surrounded by tables of patrons and other scantily clad women.

Her eyes lit up when she finally spotted him drinking at the bar. A woman sat beside and spoke to him, though Seras didn't figure her for another dancer. Although form-fitting, her red dress was modest compared to the others, accompanied by expensive-looking jewelry and sleek black hair. The woman spoke enthusiastically to him, although the rest of the VIP section drowned out their conversation. She radiated an elegance Seras could never hope to achieve- the kind of elegance that Seras never thought she would want to achieve.

The more Seras watched, the more… something filled her stomach. It was a feeling she was unfamiliar with, a sickly, nauseous feeling that sat in her gut like a rock. The woman drew closer, her hand resting on his inner thigh, and he looked at her in such a way that– could she be–?

The woman leaned into him, grasping his face and locking lips. That nausea turned into a biting sting; she felt like she was peering into a life she had no business spying on, much less being a part of. Even if she saved his life, she didn't know Jan. It was only a month before that he was just the snotty, foul-mouthed brat who busted down Hellsing's door- and he still was! Whatever this feeling was, she knew she had no right to feel it.

She sighed, turning to leave and ultimately blocking the two from her sight. She had no right to be there. It's funny how some things work out, but it was necessary. If only she could block this incident from her mind and move forward. She could go back to her everyday life, pretend nothing ever happened- at least until Sir Integra realized he was gone if she hadn't already.

This was for the best.

Just as she reached to pull the curtain back, a playful voice called behind her, "You know, you're actually kinda cute when you're not dressed like a boy scout."

Surprised and confused, she whipped around, "Er- Jan! I'm sorry I-," she stuttered and fumbled over her words, her face bright pink. "I saw that woman- I didn't want to intrude."

He cocked a brow. "Who?"

She stepped back. "The woman you were..."

"Oh! You mean-" He rubbed the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. "She's just a shitty fuckin' regular with too much time n' money on her hands. She's been pervin' on me since before I even had a fuckin' license; she's probably already pervin' on some other fuckin' dude just sittin' at the bar."

She frowned. "I just thought because…," she trailed off.

There was a long pause before he answered, "Like I said, she's just a regular. Besides, I'm more fuckin 'interested in why you're here." He glanced over his shoulder. "C'mon, follow me."

He quickly took her by the hand and dragged her back into the VIP section. Seras could see the woman at the bar, her narrowed eyes following them, and her lips were pressed thin. She gave them an agitated look before scoffing and whipping around in her seat.

"Don't take it personally; she's just bitchy like that," he stated before she could say anything, "But she's fuckin' harmless."

Past the main stage, he took her down a hallway lined with several doors. They passed a couple just as they emerged from one of the rooms: a man and a woman, both red in the face and disheveled. She quickly turned her eyes, flustered and suddenly sweating bullets. Just what kind of place was this?

They stopped at the end of the hallway, where he threw open one of the doors and ushered her inside. She stood there frozen, eyes wide and arms stiff at her sides. The room was painted in a deep red light, and a large bed adorned in silk sheets sat in the middle. Her mind was racing; this was not what she expected when she snuck out of Helling HQ to find him. Dear God, what did she get herself into? Whatever it was, she wasn't ready for it.

The door shut and locked behind her. She was confident her face matched the room, and she began trembling. Suddenly, Seras threw her hands over her eyes and whipped around.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am or what ideas you got in your head, but we are not doing this," she shouted, her voice wracked with sobs, "I don't want this!"

She was shaking and crying uncontrollably. In the few times she'd been in a situation like this, she always seemed to break down and have a panic attack. The idea of having sex terrified her, and she could never quite get over that hurdle; it was a contentious point and, ultimately, a deal breaker in her past relationships. But, in this case, she especially did not want this outcome.

"Holy shit, girl! Fuckin' chill!" His hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched. He guided her toward the edge of the bed and sat her down. He hesitantly and awkwardly patted her back. "Deep breaths! Even if I did bring you back here to fuck– which I didn't, by the way– we definitely wouldn't be fuckin' now."

She kept her head buried in her hands and whimpered. Jan wasn't very comforting, but she didn't expect him to be. This place had her on edge the whole night, and being led into what was so clearly a brothel set her nerves on fire.

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. Seras could hear him sighing behind her, and she slowly lowered her hands into her lap. Wiping her eyes with her forearm, she joined him in his sigh. How deeply embarrassing, but it was always awkward and uncomfortable, though.

Silence filled the room, occasionally pierced by a loud moan or the rhythmic banging and creaking of the neighboring room's bed. The walls were paper thin. She tentatively peered over her shoulder at him, quickly turning away when he looked to meet her gaze.

"Ya know," he said, breaking the silence, "You're fuckin' high-strung for an undead chick."

She glared at him. "Oh-! What would you know," she scoffed.

"More than ya think, babe." He nudged her back with his boot, but she turned away. He tapped her again, but she refused to look at him. "C'mon! You flipped shit because I closed a door. You tellin' me that isn't some high-strung shit?"

Seras grumbled, her lips pulled into a sneer. "What was I supposed to think," she snapped, "You dragged me into a brothel– into this room, and there's all these people making all these noises. And I think there's a whip on the wall!"

"It's actually a flog."

"That's not helping," she hissed. The anxiety sat heavy in her stomach, making her feel nauseous and dizzy. She paused, breathing long and slow, even if it didn't help as much as she wanted it to. "If we didn't come here for… that… then why'd you take me to this room?"

"Privacy reasons." She turned her head with a cocked brow. When he saw she wasn't satisfied with that answer, he lowered his voice, "Look, your affiliation is a little fuckin' problematic. Your boss might be able to suppress information in the human world, but word gets around fast in our world. If they figure out who you belong to, we'd both be in a world of shit."

Her eyes widened. "You mean everyone out there is-"

"Damn, you didn't already fuckin' know," he laughed. "We're all undead freaks in this house, baby~ No humans allowed on the dancefloor either– not unless you wanna watch shit fly off the fuckin' handle."

She groaned, leaning back onto the bed. She snickered when she noticed the reflective ceiling before rolling onto her side. It was a nice change from the stiff bedding of her coffin, which she still wasn't accustomed to. The bed was warm and soft; it was probably the best thing she'd slept on since her childhood home, and it reminded her so much of what it was like to be human.

The night's exhaustion suddenly wore on her, and she yawned heavily. It must have been early in the morning. Was the sun already up? Seras wasn't sure if it would have been safe for her to leave, and she was already so tired.

"Why'd you invite me here if it was so dangerous?"

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I wasn't thinking-"

"You seem to do that a lot."

She stared into his eyes, the first time she'd ever been able to do so without looking away. They looked just as tired as hers– dark and puffy. Maybe Seras was too tired and delirious, but she realized she hadn't ever noticed his eyes. It was strange how beautiful they were, even under the red light.

"Maybe," he chuckled, "I just thought it'd be nice to see you again."