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sabinetzinTitle: Courtesy from "Master of What Is Mine Own"
Summary: Integra is starting to notice things.
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: 510
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Will probably increase, as there are more chapters coming.
Pairing: Alucard/Integra
A/N: As soon as I go off about not wanting to write chapterfic, I do. I know I suck. This is my piece for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arymabeth and ubertinychallenge 2004 (hah). If Integra and Alucard are talking, and it looks like Shakespeare, it is. I personally think Integra would be all about some Shakespeare. I'm following manga canon, cause the anime is just crazy and Kohta Hirano owns me.
Integra was beginning to notice things. Little things, really, mostly about herself. She was starting to get taller, for one. And only last week, she’d had to send out three suit jackets and a waistcoat to be let out in the chest. She’d long since given up wearing her school uniform. Walter had stopped calling her Miss Hellsing in favor of Sir Integra. Before the last Round Table meeting, no one had suggested that she send a surrogate (which Walter and Alucard insisted that she ignore), as they always had before. And they’d actually listened to her for once, instead of talking around her.
She’d done a lot of growing up since her father died. Of course, it’s hard not to grow up after you’ve been forced to shoot your own uncle in the head. Integra spat at the ground. She still hated him after 4 years. But she had better things to worry about now than a long dead, power-hungry bastard.
And she was beginning to notice Alucard- or maybe he was starting to notice her. The line between his thoughts and hers sometimes got a little blurry. That was the down side to telepathy; if she thought too hard, she could go straight past her own thoughts and into his.
Alucard watched her in her room while she slept. He always had. He never said a word about it to Integra, but she’d woken up and caught him phasing out of her room plenty of times. It had always made her feel comforted before. But now, it felt odd. But she didn’t want him to stop. But it was still strange. It was complicated.
He really was something to behold. To say that Alucard had a flair for the dramatic would possibly win some sort of prize for understatement. He towered over Integra still, and she had a feeling that he always would. He was all red and black, his skin barely visible under yards of cloth. His eyes he couldn’t hide, even under his yellow glasses. Sometimes she’d catch them at the right angle so that they were transparent, see the crazy glint in his eye…
Her brush snagged on a tangle in her fine hair. Integra worked it out with her fingers and looked at herself in the mirror. Daydreaming again. Brilliant. The leader of an incredibly secretive private army dedicated to the eradication of all vampires acting like a schoolgirl over one of the immortal undead. Super. Next she’d be having it off with a FREAK. Great.
But Alucard was different, she told herself, tying her ascot. He was a true vampire, and bound to her. Out of nowhere, arms reached around her, picking up her tie clip and fastening it in place. “Nay,” Alucard said into her ear, “I am the very pink of courtesy.” Then the hands held up her jacket, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He buttoned the jacket, his body pressing into hers ever so slightly.
“Pink for flower,” she countered, turning around, but he was already gone.
Summary: Integra is starting to notice things.
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: 510
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Will probably increase, as there are more chapters coming.
Pairing: Alucard/Integra
A/N: As soon as I go off about not wanting to write chapterfic, I do. I know I suck. This is my piece for
arymabeth and ubertinychallenge 2004 (hah). If Integra and Alucard are talking, and it looks like Shakespeare, it is. I personally think Integra would be all about some Shakespeare. I'm following manga canon, cause the anime is just crazy and Kohta Hirano owns me.Integra was beginning to notice things. Little things, really, mostly about herself. She was starting to get taller, for one. And only last week, she’d had to send out three suit jackets and a waistcoat to be let out in the chest. She’d long since given up wearing her school uniform. Walter had stopped calling her Miss Hellsing in favor of Sir Integra. Before the last Round Table meeting, no one had suggested that she send a surrogate (which Walter and Alucard insisted that she ignore), as they always had before. And they’d actually listened to her for once, instead of talking around her.
She’d done a lot of growing up since her father died. Of course, it’s hard not to grow up after you’ve been forced to shoot your own uncle in the head. Integra spat at the ground. She still hated him after 4 years. But she had better things to worry about now than a long dead, power-hungry bastard.
And she was beginning to notice Alucard- or maybe he was starting to notice her. The line between his thoughts and hers sometimes got a little blurry. That was the down side to telepathy; if she thought too hard, she could go straight past her own thoughts and into his.
Alucard watched her in her room while she slept. He always had. He never said a word about it to Integra, but she’d woken up and caught him phasing out of her room plenty of times. It had always made her feel comforted before. But now, it felt odd. But she didn’t want him to stop. But it was still strange. It was complicated.
He really was something to behold. To say that Alucard had a flair for the dramatic would possibly win some sort of prize for understatement. He towered over Integra still, and she had a feeling that he always would. He was all red and black, his skin barely visible under yards of cloth. His eyes he couldn’t hide, even under his yellow glasses. Sometimes she’d catch them at the right angle so that they were transparent, see the crazy glint in his eye…
Her brush snagged on a tangle in her fine hair. Integra worked it out with her fingers and looked at herself in the mirror. Daydreaming again. Brilliant. The leader of an incredibly secretive private army dedicated to the eradication of all vampires acting like a schoolgirl over one of the immortal undead. Super. Next she’d be having it off with a FREAK. Great.
But Alucard was different, she told herself, tying her ascot. He was a true vampire, and bound to her. Out of nowhere, arms reached around her, picking up her tie clip and fastening it in place. “Nay,” Alucard said into her ear, “I am the very pink of courtesy.” Then the hands held up her jacket, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He buttoned the jacket, his body pressing into hers ever so slightly.
“Pink for flower,” she countered, turning around, but he was already gone.
