A/N: Spoilers for Anderson's story, manga-wise.

The Son of My Enemy

He hated to see her smile. He loved to see her smile. But he hated to see her smile at him. That Catholic wretch, that abomination of God, the weapon of the Holy Cross. No one was supposed to touch his Master. It should have been him.

"Master, what are my orders tonight?" Alucard crooned.

He reached out and touched his Master's short hair with his gloved hands, urging her to pay attention to him, coaxing her to stop studying military papers and to look into his eyes with that familiar scowl on her face. But Integral seemed unfazed. She accepted his gesture as another childish attempt to goad her, to rouse her anger.

Of course, that was what the vampire had in mind all along, but as Alucard brought his grinning face closer to his Master's steel blue eyes, he smelled it. He stopped. Integra stood up unexpectedly, unintentionally shoving the small holy cross pinned to her cravat into her servant's face. She didn't see the look of revulsion as Alucard hurried away from his master's chair and backed into the shadows.

She rose to greet man at the door.

And it didn't take long for Alucard to realize what happened.

oOoOo

It had been his mistake to bring back the Paladin. To use the Catholic priest's regenerative powers in hopes that it will save Integra's dying cells. The plan was entirely his doing and the vampire had been so confident in his scheme that he failed to recognize the attraction between his master and the priest.

After all, what woman would fall in love with the man who saved her? Surely not his master, not his Integra; falling in love was beneath her.

But as Alucard discovered by her lack of priority (meaning he) and her guarded thoughts, the vampire knew that he had done a serious miscalculation.

If he disliked the man before, he surely hated him now.

Integra's voice cut through the vampire's thoughts like a silver blade and he recoiled at her words.

"Count, were you listening? You have your orders, now leave us."

oOoOo

The Hellsing mansion was in its last stages of reconstruction after the Millennium Incident and Alucard retreated to his rooms in the basement after reporting to his master that the operation was successful and complete. Integra was immersed in composing a letter; her right hand clutched the pen tightly as she struggled to find the right words to suit her purpose.

"I'm back, Integra." He materialized beside her, intentionally looking over her shoulder to gaze down at whatever document she was formulating. In the old days, she would have grunted, turned her head around, and faced him. But now all she did was wave him away with the back of her gloved hand.

"Good. You may retire, Count."

oOoOo

He hated nights like this. Alucard sipped the blood from the medical packet with mock interest, and tried to block out the mental processes in his mind that kept repeating, kept questioning him:

What went wrong?

Did it start when his master offered her mansion, her home, as Anderson's new abode? Did his master's betrayal ignite when Anderson started going to her room instead of sleeping in his own? The mere thought unnerved the vampire.

No. It was earlier than that. Perhaps a flame flickered to life when Integra was lying on another bed, her hair splayed out on another set of white cotton sheets and her arms were littered with IV's and organ monitors. Perhaps the flame grew brighter as Integral willing shaved her locks instead of waiting for her hair to fall out just like the doctors said, a side effect of the chemotherapy. Maybe it started when Anderson said that he would do anything to save Integral Hellsing.

Alucard shuddered visibly in the dark, stale air of the basements. Three floors above, he heard a door close. Alucard shut his eyes and for the rare times in his undead life, he tried shut out the mental connection between Integral and he. Because he didn't want to hear her moan, he didn't want to feel the paladin's hands on her skin, he didn't want the sweet smell of cigars and lilacs drowning him, clouding his senses with an unrequited desire like withered red roses lying on the doorstep. He didn't want her smile for it mocked him and told him that he could no longer have what he yearned for, for she had chosen another.

Alucard lowered his head, hair hiding his face and punched the walls of his room repeatedly; anything to distract his mind, to sever the connection. Quickly, he blocked out the waves of pleasure and desire that washed over him, the remnants of Integral's feelings as she laid three floors upstairs above him.

He didn't want to hear this, he didn't need to hear this. So Alucard shut out his master's voice and punched the wall instead. Once, twice, he let his hands bleed freely, a horrible imitation of human pain but knew it wasn't enough. He couldn't block her out enough, he couldn't stop hating him enough, and he knew that whatever came in the future, he would still love her.

oOoOo

"Alucard, I'm pregnant." Her eyes were still the same cold, untouchable blue that he admired, but her face was flushed more than usual, as if she was keeping something special for herself, as if this wonderful secret of hers was not worthy of his knowledge.

"How, Master?"

oOoOo

Alucard closed the lid of the coffin and tried to sleep. He felt betrayed, an emotion akin to the time when Abraham Van Helsing stuck a wooden stake through his heart and laughed in his face. Back then, he didn't think it was possible to be defeated by a human. But he was. He was defeated by the love of a woman, a woman that he once loved, but she loved another.

And history had a way of repeating itself.

oOoOo

Integral lied to him. It wasn't artificial insemination. It was the real thing.

As the months passed and his master's stomach grew rounder until she was beyond wearing double-breasted suits and opted for elastic waistbands instead of belts, Integral still refused to go to a hospital and chose the mansion instead as the birthplace of her future son.

Integral didn't know for sure if it was a son, but something in her said so. Anderson believed it too. With Alucard's current master as an exception, all children born under the name of Hellsing were male. Even Seras believed. Hell, everyone believed in the future of the new heir.

Alucard almost wished the baby was a stillborn. The selfish thought played in his mind like the way he used to twirl Integral's hair, wrapping the awful thought around his finger. He imagined the look on his Master's face – Integral holding a dead baby. Would she cry silent tears? Would she weep? Would she get out of bed the next day and resume her duty as Hellsing's director? What would she do?

But Alucard knew that above all else, whatever facade Integral felt that she had to hide behind chewed up pens and moon-shaped spectacles, he knew that she would be sad.

And so, despite himself, Alucard also wished that the newborn was a boy.

oOoOo

Anderson held onto to Integral's hand as she breathed deeply, the sweat falling from her brow like fat raindrops. Or, taken another way, Integral was holding his hand, seeking him for support and strength. They didn't talk to each other while she was in labour, Integral didn't have time to talk, but Anderson held her hand nonetheless. Her grip could have broken another man's fingers, but not him. Oh no, the paladin wanted to be there for her and nothing could sway he otherwise.

The vampire watched this exchange in silence, the familiars inside him raged and roared and wished to tear the priest's hands from hers. He wanted to hold Integral's hand, to give her strength where he could, to wipe the beads of perspiration from her face, to tell her that even now, she looked beautiful.

It was a boy. She was right. The babe was red and wrinkly, like all newborns are, and screamed loudly for the whole household to hear.

"Alucard, come here," she commanded, her voice hoarse and tense and tired. He came up to her, his gloved hands hanging by his side, and knelt down beside his master's bed. "Say hello to my child, Alucard." There was a smile on her face. He had seen that smile before on another woman, and the babe's name was Quincy.

"Hello, little one," he answered.

"What's his name?" Seras questioned, standing behind her master with her hands behind her back. Alucard watched in disgust as Integral quickly stole a glance at Anderson, their eyes meeting in mutual agreement, before she turned her face towards the draculina and replied,

"Arthur."

Seras nodded in approval, she liked the choice. Anderson touched the fabric wrapped around the newborn and pressed a thumb against his son's forehead. Integra turned her head downwards and spoke to the child, as if her next words were only meant for him.

"Arthur. Just like my father."