New Chapter
Jun. 30th, 2004 04:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Entertainment from "Master of What Is Mine Own"
Summary: Hellsing Headquarters is astoundingly dull.
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: 699
Rating/Warnings: R for adult type content.
Pairing: Alucard/Integra
A/N: Not much to say, except that I'm going the hell to bed, and, for anyone here cause you're following The Late Spike Spiegel Blues, there'll be a new chapter tomorrow. Maybe two. But I needed this out of my system first.
Integra walked down and had a quick breakfast before going to her office. Alucard wasn’t there. Walter had her papers all in order for her perusal. There wasn’t much to read. After the mission at the full moon, there hadn’t been any new activity. Alucard was getting restless. She didn’t blame him. It was rare to go two days without a raid, let alone two weeks.
“Any news from Ulster?” she asked Walter.
“Nothing, Sir Integra,” he replied. “Since the maneuver last month, it’s a gotten quiet. Too quiet, if you ask me.”
Integra looked over the papers once more. “Like the calm before the storm,” she mused.
-
The afternoon was a complete waste. She spent most of it sequestered in the library with a dusty old folio entitled “Nosferatu et hys Darke Artes”. Integra had been trying to brush up on her lore during the downtime. All it had gotten her was a headache and a look at a really amusing woodcut of Alucard being chased by some villagers.
Dinner was uneventful. It wasn’t even particularly good or particularly bad. It just was. Integra was dying for something, anything to break the monotony. It was her sworn duty to protect her country, but if Walter had come in and told her that someone had just turned the royal family into ghouls, she might have hugged him.
She checked all the news services for the third time. Nothing. She phoned MI5. No information. She even reread all the mission reports for the last six months, looking for a pattern. She couldn’t find one. If someone was planning something, they were doing a damn good job of hiding it. She pounded her head on the desk in a most undignified manner and thought briefly about quitting the vampire hunting business all together. Maybe she’d start a cake shop. That was where the real action was.
Night found her lying on her bed, staring at the underside of the canopy. She’d had a bath, which was, sadly, the high point of her day, and dressed for bed. Alucard appeared, lying next to her with his hands folded behind his head.
“My master is bored,” he said.
Integra rolled her eyes. “My servant has a really firm grasp of the obvious.” She sighed. “Entertain me, Alucard.”
And then he was kissing her. Her eyes flew open in shock. Integra tried to gasp, but that only made it easier for him. His mouth was heavy and wet on hers, and he tasted just barely metallic. She pushed him back when she realized it was the taste of blood.
“What in the bloody hell was that?” she shouted at him, panting.
“You said you wanted to be entertained.”
“I certainly didn’t mean like that!”
“There are only three things that are truly entertaining,” Alucard explained, as if it was the most basic fact and she a petulant child. “I don’t fancy killing you, and I can’t ever remember which way the bishop moves.”
“I didn’t- I never-” she stammered.
But Alucard cut her off. “Of course you didn’t and you never. You lead a life that would bore most saints.”
“I have a duty to uphold,” she said, trying to convince herself.
“Which you were upholding so effectively by staring into space,” he retorted.
Integra glared at him. The less logical side of her was threatening to revolt, and she was fighting it down with all her willpower. “It’s not right.” She desperately hoped that he wasn’t reading her thoughts right now, because she was planning some things that were really creative and possibly illegal.
Alucard laughed. Damn. So he was. The light went out and the bed hangings closed around them. “All you have to do is order me away,” he reminded her. But then his hands snaked their way down her body, and all logical thought subsided.
“This is wrong,” she protested weakly, but she let him pull her nightgown off.
“But I am in so far in blood that sin will pluck on sin,” he began, grinning.
The darker side of her finished its takeover. “Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye,” she finished. Then his mouth closed over hers.
Summary: Hellsing Headquarters is astoundingly dull.
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: 699
Rating/Warnings: R for adult type content.
Pairing: Alucard/Integra
A/N: Not much to say, except that I'm going the hell to bed, and, for anyone here cause you're following The Late Spike Spiegel Blues, there'll be a new chapter tomorrow. Maybe two. But I needed this out of my system first.
Integra walked down and had a quick breakfast before going to her office. Alucard wasn’t there. Walter had her papers all in order for her perusal. There wasn’t much to read. After the mission at the full moon, there hadn’t been any new activity. Alucard was getting restless. She didn’t blame him. It was rare to go two days without a raid, let alone two weeks.
“Any news from Ulster?” she asked Walter.
“Nothing, Sir Integra,” he replied. “Since the maneuver last month, it’s a gotten quiet. Too quiet, if you ask me.”
Integra looked over the papers once more. “Like the calm before the storm,” she mused.
-
The afternoon was a complete waste. She spent most of it sequestered in the library with a dusty old folio entitled “Nosferatu et hys Darke Artes”. Integra had been trying to brush up on her lore during the downtime. All it had gotten her was a headache and a look at a really amusing woodcut of Alucard being chased by some villagers.
Dinner was uneventful. It wasn’t even particularly good or particularly bad. It just was. Integra was dying for something, anything to break the monotony. It was her sworn duty to protect her country, but if Walter had come in and told her that someone had just turned the royal family into ghouls, she might have hugged him.
She checked all the news services for the third time. Nothing. She phoned MI5. No information. She even reread all the mission reports for the last six months, looking for a pattern. She couldn’t find one. If someone was planning something, they were doing a damn good job of hiding it. She pounded her head on the desk in a most undignified manner and thought briefly about quitting the vampire hunting business all together. Maybe she’d start a cake shop. That was where the real action was.
Night found her lying on her bed, staring at the underside of the canopy. She’d had a bath, which was, sadly, the high point of her day, and dressed for bed. Alucard appeared, lying next to her with his hands folded behind his head.
“My master is bored,” he said.
Integra rolled her eyes. “My servant has a really firm grasp of the obvious.” She sighed. “Entertain me, Alucard.”
And then he was kissing her. Her eyes flew open in shock. Integra tried to gasp, but that only made it easier for him. His mouth was heavy and wet on hers, and he tasted just barely metallic. She pushed him back when she realized it was the taste of blood.
“What in the bloody hell was that?” she shouted at him, panting.
“You said you wanted to be entertained.”
“I certainly didn’t mean like that!”
“There are only three things that are truly entertaining,” Alucard explained, as if it was the most basic fact and she a petulant child. “I don’t fancy killing you, and I can’t ever remember which way the bishop moves.”
“I didn’t- I never-” she stammered.
But Alucard cut her off. “Of course you didn’t and you never. You lead a life that would bore most saints.”
“I have a duty to uphold,” she said, trying to convince herself.
“Which you were upholding so effectively by staring into space,” he retorted.
Integra glared at him. The less logical side of her was threatening to revolt, and she was fighting it down with all her willpower. “It’s not right.” She desperately hoped that he wasn’t reading her thoughts right now, because she was planning some things that were really creative and possibly illegal.
Alucard laughed. Damn. So he was. The light went out and the bed hangings closed around them. “All you have to do is order me away,” he reminded her. But then his hands snaked their way down her body, and all logical thought subsided.
“This is wrong,” she protested weakly, but she let him pull her nightgown off.
“But I am in so far in blood that sin will pluck on sin,” he began, grinning.
The darker side of her finished its takeover. “Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye,” she finished. Then his mouth closed over hers.
