Disclaimer: If I owned Hellsing, this wouldn't be called fanfiction, would it? So just go along your merry way.

All The Little Things
Oneshot

It's the little things that nobody really notices.

It's the way he smiles, not the ear-to-ear sadistic grin he gets when he's about to make a kill; those little flashes of teeth when I'm finally done my work for the night.

It's the glint in his eyes, the ones Walter either doesn't see or dismisses, when I can tell there's substance behind a sexual remark and not just his normal teasing.

It's the way he laces his fingers with mine, cold melding with heat, pale and bony meshed with tanned and fleshy.

It's the way he fixes my hair occasionally, when I'm either too tired to care as it brushes my face during paperwork, or resting against the pillow after a night of slow, smoldering passion.

It's the way he kisses my cheek, those last bits of human affection that he saves just for me to enjoy.

It's the way he holds my hips, firm and controlling, even though he is the servant.

It's the way we playfully argue over who stole the covers the night prior, regardless of whether or not he actualy requires the bedspead to retain heat while he rests.

It's the way he holds me, like a fragile doll; though I am sorely breakable by comparison to his unkillable self.

It's the way he'll nip at my neck, never sinking his teeth in but reminding me that the offer is still there, waiting for me to take him up on it.

It's the way he'll make breakfast sometimes, suprising the cooks in the kitchen while he stands there and fries eggs in a skillet, completely uncharacteristically - sometimes, I even wonder why he knows how to cook in the first place.

It's the way he says my name, all starlight and crushed velvet and roses, calling me "Countess" like it was the title I was born with.

It's the way he will only let me heal him when he gets wounded and he can't heal himself, that look of humiliation crossing his face that makes him absolutely everything but monster-like.

It's the way he whispers "I love you" every chance he gets, before every mission and when I wake, like it's the most natural thing to pass his lips.

It's the way that he said "I do" on that special day; though the wedding wasn't legal, we knew that our arrangement would be fine - the Hellsing Estate has its own set of laws, anyhow.

It's the way he hugged me tightly when he found out I was pregnant with his child - no matter how the physician told me that I had a chance of not surviving the pregnancy, no matter that there weren't any records of vampires and humans reproducing - we knew that everything would be all right in the end. It always was.

It's the little things that nobody really notices that make me truly love him.

Originally this was comprised of a poem merely stating phrases, now expanded into a full-length drabble.

Reviews would be nice.