Author's Note: Well, Ketti and I feel very accomplished. We patted each other on the back and then proceeded to distract ourselves with paltry things like FarmVille and Twitter.

"This is so undignified," Indiana moaned, wincing as the legs tightened around his waist, and planted his palms more firmly on her thighs to push against the clamping feeling.

Seras grunted as her shadow limb worked to pull them both through the air and avoid the mountain peaks. At least he had the easy part! Glowing red eyes pierced the darkness easily as the unlikely duo glided back towards the village that Juketti had agreed to wait a day in for her return.

"Loosen up a little!" she growled. "You're distracting me! Just have fun flying!" The man scoffed, but obediently pulled his nails out of her thighs, one hand cautiously snaking up to hold onto his hat as the wind tugged it.

They managed an easier glide down the mountain before touching down just outside the village. The people had already gathered at the main hut, their silhouettes lit against the fires flickering within. They whispered uneasily at the pair and then a child screamed, pointing at Seras' shadows. The mother jerked it back with what sounded like a prayer and suddenly the village was in an uproar, shouting in their native language and gesturing wildly to the two pale creatures standing outside their village. Indie listened for a moment before grimacing.

"They say you're going to steal their souls and ferry them to the Underworld." He gave her the once over. "I can see that." Seras bared her teeth at the man before returning the grimace and shaking her arm, trying to force the shadows back into a semblance of a human shape. She was starving; the side effect of healing what felt like holy water burns, and trying to calm frightened villagers when she couldn't even pretend to be human was going to be a trial and a half. Especially since her spare blood packs were inside the headman's hut, where all the people were.

"Now would be a great time for some support, Juketti." Seras growled, sniffing the air to search for the dhampir's scent. The villagers stirred in response to her words and more children began to cry as they sensed their parents' tension. Indiana stared at them, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched village become a mob. He chose the more trustworthy of the two evils and inches closer to the vampiress, fingering his gun.

"Look, you may not want to do anything rash; these villagers will attack you at the slightest move. I hope you have a plan."

"Working on it," she replied quickly. "My guide was supposed to be here. I don't know why she's not out here calming them down." Plans raced through the Draculina's mind, being discarded just as quickly. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, lengthening her fangs, and she fought to keep them hidden. A decade of steadily drinking the blood packs meant her body was accustomed to a certain level of it in her system, but her first crucial months as a new fledgling denying that blood meant she had a stubborn streak a mile wide. She would and could resist biting any of the villagers, but the longer it took this situation to resolve the more inhuman she'd appear.

"What did your guide look like?" Indie asked suddenly, "Perhaps one of them will tell me where she went."

"You think she's gone?" Seras looked uncertain, but couldn't deny that Juketti was taking too long to assure the mob that she meant them no harm. The pessimistic side of the vampire wondered if she even would.

"Do you see her here?" Indiana snapped, his eyes darting to the villagers and back. "Because all I see are a bunch of terrified natives with weapons and, in my experience, that's never a good thing."

"I've got to get my bag and my mobile; I have to get in touch with Sir Integra!" Seras bit one finger as her mind raced, a habit left from her human years. "Oh," she moaned around the digit, "this is going all wrong! I'm in so much trouble..."

Indie paused for a moment to stare at the girl, she reminded him so much of his students when they realized they didn't know the answer to the test questions. It struck him again how human she looked and behaved, and he grimaced, shaking his head. Now was not the time for such things.

"What did she look like?" He pressed, "They might talk to ne."

"Uhm," Seras thought hard, trying to remember the older woman's face. "Bright, bright silver hair, like moonbeam silver. Mid-30s, big glasses, accent." Indiana nodded and called out to the villagers in their language, although unlike Juketti his words were broken and hesitant.

The villages quieted somewhat as he spoke and whispered among themselves before parting like the Red Sea for a withered old man to step forward, his body painted with strange symbols. He spoke aloud, his voice wavering from age and he waved his walking stick at them. Indiana listened before shouting back a reply and turning to Seras.

"They say the silver haired witch left. They let her stay until noon, but then they threw her out. The only reason they allowed her to come because they were losing men to the Nazis- they say that by bringing you, she tainted their homes." Seras scowled.

"Well, that's rude." She crossed her arms, shadows still wiggling into shape on her shoulder. "All I need is my bag, really." Indiana shrugged and shouted something more at the old headman, who consulted with three brawny, shirtless men. Then they went inside the headman's hut. They staggered out a few minutes later, the bag hoisted between their bodies. They went as far as they dared before swinging the bag back and forth for momentum, muscles straining as sweat glistened on their foreheads.

They threw the bag and it crashed to the ground with an enormous thud, rattling the scrubby bushes near the mountains. Indiana jumped a foot backwards, one hand on his hat as he gaped openmouthed at the normal looking bag.

"Good God!" He swore. "What the hells in there?!" He rubbed his forehead as the village men tottered back laboriously to their families. "How are we supposed to carry that, just the two of us?" Seras rolled her eyes.

"You men are so overdramatic," she joked as she picked up the suitcase with one hand, holding it by the handle and slinging the case behind her shoulder to carry on her back. "It's not that heavy. Just a change of clothes, some snacks," she listed, walking to him and tilting her head as she rattled off. "A toothbrush, deodorant, spare depleted-uranium shells,"

"Deple... WHAT?" Indie shrieked, jumping back as though the bag would explode any second. "Why in the hell do you have depleted uranium shells in your bag?!"Seras gave him a look over her shoulder, blonde brows arching.

"Well, obviously I couldn't fit them in an ammo belt." The good doctor just stared, mouth gaping as he stuttered her words silently.

"Don't tell me you've got some sort of anti-tank cannon in there as well!" Seras scoffed.

"Of course not! It's being dropped off on the next air mail flight." The girl then glanced at her wrist watch, "which should be landing soon... We should get back to the city. I need my firepower to deal with these Nazis properly."

She made it sound so casual, it nearly boggled the mind. She turned back once to glance at the villagers, who seemed more than happy to watch her leave. They moved as one, whispering and inching forward as she stared at them. Finally, the blonde demon and her human companion began to walk away from the village, her hair a shining halo flanked by dark shadows. They all sighed in relief, the kinder ones hoping that she'd never return, while the others wished her dead.

After the long trek back to the city (which was only long because Indiana both refused to fly again and refused to be carried at all, making Seras walk at a human's meager pace), Seras realized that she was in a bit of a pickle. She needed to get to the airport for her beloved cannon, but… where was the damned airport?

She had no idea how to get back through the city the way she'd come, and the airport was hidden among the electric lights of the upper-class district on the horizon. In fact, she also didn't know where her hotel was, or even the name of it. She could have asked Juketti… if only the woman hadn't abandoned her. She didn't even know which building housed Hellsing's branch! Even worse, it was already after midnight, which meant in a few short hours the sun would be rising.

When she haltingly explained her circumstance to Indiana he cursed her in seven different languages, which had somewhat impressed her. He then led her through the darkened streets of filth and shacks; both of them keeping their eyes open for cutthroats and thieves. He then let her to the outskirts of the upper-class district, where a nice hotel sat far enough away from the lights while still providing safety.

Pip was laughing uproariously in the back of her mind and Seras held her tongue only for her companion's sake. She knew he thought it was hilarious that she'd gotten herself into such a mess, and she was already dreading having to tell Sir Integra about it all.

Indiana silently checked them into the last room and led her to it, throwing his hat on the shabby couch while letting her have the equally shabby bed. Seras shook her head when she saw the windows shining right onto the mattress and instead looked around before grabbing the blanket and stuffing it into the tiny closet. Indiana shook his head and eyed her as if afraid she was crazy and it was catching.

"I'm only staying with you until I can get you back to where you need to go," he told her firmly. "I'm not one for leaving a lady alone in a strange country with no connections. But as soon as you're settled in with your people, I'm outta here." Seras blinked at him, her eyes glowing in the closet's darkness as she made a nest of sorts with the blanket.

"What about your weapons? And the Nazis?" she asked quietly. He gave her a one-armed shrug.

"I've been in worse situations, little lady," he assured her. "I can find my own way. Don't worry about me." He looked outside at the brightening skyline. "You'd want to wait until dark to find that guide, wouldn't you?" Seras nodded, stepping out of the closet to grab her bag, zipping it open and grabbing another blood packet. She'd had two already on the walk, but she still didn't feel replenished. For the first time in forever, she longed for her coffin and the energizing soil inside.

"Yes, I'll sleep now and won't be up until about 6:00 tonight. I hope that doesn't bother you," she said, a bit self-consciously. He shook his head.

"No, in fact I'm exhausted. I didn't get much sleep in that cave." He didn't exactly say it, but she knew that he was implying it had something to do with her. She didn't blame him—if she was a human, the shock would have kept her from sleeping too. She also felt a small pang of happiness; he was going to sleep now, so he must trust her enough to make himself vulnerable, right? Or at least he'd known she'd never hurt him.

"Okay, good day then." She partially shut the door to the closet. Her voice echoed inside a moment later. "And don't shake me, trying to wake me up or anything. Vampires don't do well when they're startled out of sleep, and I wouldn't want to accidentally do something rash and kill you," she warned seriously. He agreed and she curled on top of her blanket-nest, her head under her arms. Pip emerged from the shadows, out of sight of the archeologist, and stroked her matted hair comfortingly until she was dead to the world.

Indiana looked in on the girl when he awoke around noon. His stomach growled and he snuck out to find a vending machine or something close by. When he returned, he'd automatically opened the door to the closet, remembering her words and using the door as a shield.

She was, in all appearances, a very dead body. He refused to look at her unmoving chest and his heart lurched at the thought that if he touched her, she'd be cold as a corpse. She hadn't even bothered to shower before turning in, so she was certainly a sight. He stared down at her face, reveling in how young she looked.

He wondered how old she actually was. Had he been arguing pettily with a vampiress who was hundreds of years old? It was laughable! Finally he shut the door gently and crawled back into his own bed, trying to force himself to get some more sleep, his mind turning over the thoughts of monster movies that crept through it.

He stared at the vampiress, who was cowering on the bed, her eyes downcast and swimming with tears. Her shadows were curled around her knees, which were drawn protectively to her chest. Every once in a while she'd say something in a low tone, but even he was cowed by the full force of the rage that sounded through the telephone's receiver.

He could hear every word, and he felt utterly sorry that such a sweet girl, vampire or not, had such a cruel boss. From the moment the girl called, she'd been berated with a tongue-lashing he'd never have stood for. But the vampire who could hold her own against Nazis withered under the voice's wrath for a full hour before the shadows in the room started jumping erratically. Her responses became snappier and biting before the two women started screaming at each other over the phone.

"I told you, I was held hostage!" Seras shrieked into the receiver. "I didn't have time to check in, when I was being tortured and made to help those bloody psychopaths!" Indiana kept out of the way on the couch, keeping his presence down to a bare minimum. Women were frightening when they were angry; and it was better to keep quiet and tiptoe around them, even if they weren't angry at you.

"Alucard would have already had the situation dealt with and been back on the next flight home! And he would have called, too!" Indiana winced slightly. He didn't know who she was talking about, but it sounded like a bit of an insult. Seras must have taken it that way too, because her eyes narrowed and her black arm turned fuzzy and wiggly.

"Well, I'm not him, am I? I'm sorry that I'm such a failure, Sir." She clicked the phone, cutting off the woman mid-rant and threw it with all her force onto the bed, where it bounced and almost broke against the headboard. Her crimson gaze zoned in on Indiana and she snarled before turning on her heel. "Please excuse me," she said choppily, walking out of the room.

The phone rang again, but Indiana didn't dare answer it. He just sat unhappily, wondering how in the hell he kept getting into such strange situations.

The phone didn't stop ringing, so after 15 minutes the adventuresome archeologist picked it up gingerly and carried it out into the hall. It wasn't hard to find where she'd gone: the shadows writhing on the wallpaper were practically an arrow pointing to the distressed vampire. He carried it up a short, rickety flight of stairs which led to an alcove with a door. Opening it, he found himself on the roof.

Seras was seated in the shadow, look away from the city's lights. He walked over, but she didn't acknowledge him, or the ringing. Her eyes were trained on the moon, which was playing hide-and-seek with the sparse, low-hanging clouds. Beyond them, the stars were barely visible from the light and smog of the city, but Indiana knew, without really understanding how he knew, that she could see them perfectly.

"Look," he started, "You've got to grow up a little. Answer the damn phone, lady." The shrill rings punctuated his words, backing him up. Seras didn't answer, but a shadow leapt off the side of the wall and grabbed the phone from his hand, swallowing it up. The ringing stopped and silence reigned, broken only by the occasional honk of a car in the city beyond the roof.

"Very mature," he grunted, leaning back on the wall and watching her. "How old are you, again, five? Seven? I know a three year old with better phone manners." That was a lie, he didn't know any kids, he didn't really like the young ones, they tended to cry at the drop of a hat and got snotty and clingy. Not his thing.

She still didn't reply, and he went so far as to nudge her. The toe of his boot had no sooner touched her thigh when it felt as if an explosion rocked the building.

"Leave me alone!" He was on his back, with no knowledge of falling. She stood above him, her eyes glowing deep crimson in the night. The shadows jumped from the concrete roof and up her legs, looking like hellish bloodstained flames. It dawned on him with full force that she. was. not. human. "As if you have any understanding whatsoever! You know nothing!" she screamed at him, her hands balled into fists.

"I-I know enough," he faltered, before sitting up slightly. Indiana Jones didn't lose a fight, and he certainly didn't let a vampire shout him down. He was a man, damnit! "I know that you're acting like a spoiled child, and you're throwing a damned good tantrum for a girl your age." He rocked onto his bottom, his hand feeling the roof to find his hat and settling it back onto his head. "Now you just calm yourself down!" he shouted back at full force, his voice booming into the night air.

He expected another explosion, or perhaps she'd finally snap and rip his head off. But to his surprise (and guilty dismay) a red-tinged tear crept down the young lady's cheek and her lip trembled before her jaw set and she turned away, the shadows hunkering over her like a protective cloak.

"Just go away," she muttered, and he felt himself being pushed by the intangible tendrils. He made a move to argue, but something about it seemed pointless.

"Alright then, little miss, but I'm not leaving. I'll be in the room when you calm down." Retreating with as much dignity as possible, Indiana groaned as he dropped onto the lumpy couch, rubbing his face with his hands. "How did I get into this mess? I'd kill for a cigarette."

Just then the room door opened, and a strange man with a long reddish brown braid draped around his neck strolled in, looking casual as can be in his— was Indie imagining things? He blinked to make sure—combat fatigues,

"Did someone say cigarette?" His accent was clearly French, and the American was baffled.

"Why, do you have a spare?" Indiana Jones was nothing if not adaptable. The eye patch wearing, bandaged nosed French man grinned at him.

"Of course! Now, what was this I hear about you being willing to kill for one?" He teased, dangling the pack of cigarettes in the air, making it clear he was joking.

"Why, you got someone in mind?" Indie tipped his hat back to stare at the man with an answering smirk. The holder of his nicotine laughed.

"Good answer! Here, mate, have at it." Indie caught the carton and shook one loose, tucking it between his lips and patting at his pockets.

"Got a light?" He grumbled, realizing he still didn't have his things. The Frenchman laughed and nodded.

"Of course! The name's Pip, by the way, Pip Bernadotte, pleased to meet you Mr. Jones." He extended the lighter and lit the man's smoke before watching him with a sly expression, waiting to see how long it would take the American to realize...

"How do you know my name?" Indiana squinted at Pip, and then coughed; choking on the smoke and remembering that he hadn't had a cig in years.

"Oh," Pip crooned, looking entirely too smug, "A little bird told me." Just then the room door opened, again, and Seras walked in looking a little sheepish. As soon as her shadows touched Pip the Frenchman winked and was gone.

A somewhat awkward silence filled the room before Seras' phone started ringing. Again. They both looked pointedly at the vibrating bed and finally Seras picked it up, clicking the button and holding it cautiously away from her ear.

"Hello?"

"Seras." The voice was strained on the other line, clearly trying to stay calm, "You mentioned the human that the Nazis wanted to solve the maze. Put him on the line." Seras looked questioningly at Indiana, who cleared his throat and half-heartedly motioned for her to hand him the phone. She shrugged, her expression one of "you asked for it" and placed the phone screen up in his hand. He looked at the contact picture lit up on next to the name: a stern woman in old-fashioned glasses, and licked his lips before lifting it to his ear.

"Hello, Sir," he said politely, trying to be a gentleman and hoping she didn't scream at him. He'd heard Seras call her "sir" before, so he hoped she didn't take offense. To his relief, a calm, collected voice answered him.

"Good afternoon," she said with equal politeness, and he frowned before realizing she was talking about English time. "Who might I be speaking to?"

"Oh, I'm Dr. Indiana Jones," he answered. "And who are you?"

"Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing; pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Jones. Now, as it stands, I understand that I'm in your debt for aiding in the rescue of one of my agents."

"Ah, well, I wouldn't say that ma-..Sir. Seras is the one who got us out of the mountain." He continued on in his head, 'and off the mountain, and to the village...' Seras snorted in the background, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'I told you so', but the man ignored her.

"If I may ask, Sir," he continued after a moment, "What is your intention in India? It seems awfully convenient those Nazis found runes specifically meant for vampires and your own agent shows up." There was a sharp intake on the other line, and Indiana caught Seras' expression changing to a carefully bland mask out of the corner of his eye.

"Doctor Jones," the clipped tone nearly made him shiver, "I sent Agent Victoria to India to protect the civilians from those same Nazis. I do not appreciate what you are implying."

"I meant no disrespect, Sir," he said, sounding more sarcastic than he meant to. "But you have to agree, the sort of circus you run isn't the most normal thing. I'm hard-pressed to believe your intentions are completely pure.

"But," he said when she made a disgruntled noise, "your agent, as you say, is a perfectly good girl. I would hate to think you've dragged her into something." Seras stared at him openmouthed, either appalled at his bold tone or horrified that he'd said such a thing about her boss.

"How dare you." The voice in his ear was frigid steel. "How dare you even voice such an outlandish assumption, much less think it." He could practically feel the rage bubbling up in her gut as she spoke. "I don't know who you think you are, but I assure you that you have no ties to us. If you want to leave, then by all means do so. But don't stand in our way when the time comes for action, or you will be considered an enemy."

The thought of running away rankled his pride and his upper lip curled for a moment, "You still haven't answered my question," he growled, and saw Seras straightening up from the bed out of the corner of his eye, "What. Are. Your. Intentions?"

"Frankly," Sir Integra hissed, "that's none of your bloody business, Dr. Jones. But you are already aware we exist through my agent, so I will tell you again. Seras Victoria is there to search out and destroy the Nazi scum, and to keep the humans safe."

"Yeah, and she did a bang up job of that alread-OW!" Indie yelped as Seras kicked him, a sour look on her face before she yanked the phone back. "Permission to use Vladimir, Sir?" Seras gritted out through her clenched teeth.

There was a pause before the blonde on the other end of the line sighed. "Granted. Try not to cause too much collateral damage."

"I'm not my Master," Seras snapped then clicked the phone off and threw it back onto the bed with a snarl. "We're going to the airport. I have a special crate I need to sign for."