Integra was considerably less than happy. The operation had gone as planned, and that particular little pocket of freaks and ghouls had been wiped off the face of the earth, but there was one detail that worried her more than anything.

'And you are certain it was a Lycan?'

'Ah'm not blind, woman.' Anderson was getting a little exasperated by Integra's ceaseless interrogation. He crossed his broad arms at her, staring her down keenly. Seras stood next to him, visibly shaken. It wasn't that she couldn't handle a Lycan or two – it was the fact that the beast had literally come out of nowhere. She had scented it, but could not isolate it. From the way that Alucard had spoken to her before, he hadn't had much luck either, and that was problematic.

'It was definitely a werewolf,' Seras began. 'I mean… I don't know what else it could've been. Body of a man, head of a wolf… it's pretty text book.'

Integra digested this information, her fingers tapping impatiently against her elbow. Her eyes darted up to her crimson-clad servant, floating carelessly next to the ex-priest.

'And you, Alucard. Why didn't you arbitrate?'

The No-Life king let a deep, menacing chuckle reverberate throughout the room. His perpetual grin grew wider, and he offered only the hint of a shrug.

'Seras is able to handle herself; that much I can count on.' Alucard's grin spread insufferably wide across his face. 'And I wanted to let Angel Dust test his mettle.' He spoke in a sing-song tone.

Integra wrinkled her nose at her pet. That was simply inexcusable. She knew Alucard was of twisted mind; that much was ostensible to anyone who came into contact with him and managed to get away. However, she did not much care for the new blossoming development of petty jealousy in her servant. It wouldn't have been apparent to Seras, but Integra had lived with this creature for eleven years, and she had learned to read his quirks. Jealousy was not something he exhibited in a very blunt way… he was obnoxiously passive-aggressive, and it didn't help that he was taking it recklessly to a new height by endangering her potential ally without consideration.

'Your orders were to search and destroy, Vampire.' Her tone grew cold and sharp. 'I did not order you to test anyone's mettle. This was a mission, Alucard, not a training exercise.'

The grin remained, but Alucard did not respond.

'…You will come to my office after we're through here. We will have words, servant.'

Anderson did his best to hide his smirk. It was amusing to see Integra reprimand her slave in that way, he had to admit. As far as he was concerned, that red devil had whatever was coming to him. Eternal King of the Dead or not, no man would ever be immune to the verbal lashings of an irate woman, and that was that.

Alucard seemed to be considering his master's demand, and his grin seemed to dissolve slowly.

'You are dismissed for now.' Integra glared at him. In an almost defeated way, he faded, and his aura left the room entirely. He hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her discharge – very uncharacteristic of him.

'As for you two…' Integra sighed, looking the pair over. 'Anderson, you aren't injured, are you? If that Lycanthrope did any damage to you, we may have to – '

'Cracked m'head on the ground well hard, but aside from that, the hell beast did'nae touch me.' Not bothering to look down at Seras, he continued, his voice placid and gentle. 'Yer Vampire lass made sure o'that.'

Integra cast her gaze over to the sheepish Draculina, but said nothing to her. The best she could offer Seras right now was an approving nod. Seras was more than content with that, and swallowed thickly. Something about the way Alexander had addressed her 'good deed' made heat rise to her cheeks, and she couldn't bear to look up, even if he wasn't looking down at her. Was it really necessary to mention that she had saved him?

'And you, Seras?' Integra questioned; her voice still stony and cold. 'It didn't wound you, did it?'

'N-No, sir.' She stammered. 'It never touched me.'

'Very well.'

The platinum-haired Knight chewed on the end of her cigar in thought, making sure that there wasn't anything else that she had to go over before finding Walter to relay the news.

'Anderson, despite this …disturbing news of Lycans,' she began. 'I sincerely hope that you have new insight to the way Hellsing handles such troublesome situations.' A puff of milky white smoke escaped her lips, punctuating the statement.

Arms still crossed over his chest, he gave a grunt, neither approving nor disapproving. Integra supposed that it was the best she could hope for, given the circumstances. She wouldn't pry anymore. Men never cared to have their pride injured; especially not men who were zealous, chauvinistic ex-Catholic Priests. That much was clear.

'You're both dismissed for the evening.'

The west wing's Library had seen much use in the past three months. It had served as Anderson's sanctuary, a meeting place between the young Vampiress and himself, and at times, a bedroom. Tonight, it served as a makeshift medical ward. Seras had insisted on taking him to the infirmary for the wound to the back of his head, but he'd had more than enough of that place. If he never saw those cold marble corridors again, it'd be only too soon.

'It doesn't look that bad.'

Anderson was seated at the piano bench, leaning over the keys as Seras gingerly inspected the back of his head. Ungloved fingers pushed bloodstained blonde aside to assess the damage.

'It's just a cut, but it's pretty deep… does it hurt?' She pressed a fingertip against it.

'Ow – Yes, it bloody hurts.' He grumbled indignantly. He fought the desire to swat her hand away. 'Bullshit is wha' this is. If I had my regenerative abilities, it would'nae even happened. Bein' tended to by a vampire… God save my soul…' The Paladin rolled his eyes at himself in vain.

Seras sighed. She didn't want to get into an argument tonight; her head was already too full. She produced a small bottle of antiseptic spray from the first aid kit she had nicked from the Humvee, removed the cap, and heaved another sigh. This was bullshit.

'Hold still, it might burn.'

Anderson did as she requested, withholding his backtalk. She was right. It burned, but not enough to merit any cursing or protesting. He sat there and waited for the Draculina to finish up her attempt at nursing. She dabbed at the wound gently with a gauze pad, doing her best to clean any debris from it, all the while trying to mind it to avoid unnecessary pain. When the wound looked clean enough, she stood there, considering it for a moment. Softly, Seras brushed his hair out of the way with a few fingers, thinking about that look Anderson had on his face, earlier. It was only there for a moment – so fleeting, but she had absolutely seen it. It was pure, unadulterated fear. He had been afraid for his life, a perfect reminder of his newly bestowed mortality. Her eyes darkened, conflict bubbling up inside her once again.

'Yeh done yet, Draculina?' Anderson's tone was sharp. 'I know how blood excites yer type.'

Seras was thrown from her reverie quickly, and then backed away from the man to let him up. He rose slowly, wincing as he did so.

'You… alright?'

'A bit stiff. Damned monster knocked the breath out of me.' There was no mirth in his voice. 'Bloody… stinkin' unholy beasts…'

He skulked over to his chair, and plopped himself down in it without any grace. The Paladin removed his glasses and folded the arms, placing them on the cover of the bible he'd left sitting on the table in front of him. He brought his hand up again and pinched the bridge of his nose while letting loose one of the world's most dramatic sighs, making sure Seras had heard it.

'There'll be no sleep fer me, tonight.'

Seras had to crack a smile at that. As much as it was difficult for her to admit, she'd become accustomed to these late night 'bonding' sessions. If Anderson had ever heard her refer to them as that, though… there'd be hell to pay. Wisely, she said nothing of it.

'Brodie's?' She questioned, gingerly.

He shrugged.

Brodie's it was.

Seras had excused herself from the room, giving Anderson time to think. His head was already pounding from that lovely little fall he'd taken, and thinking wasn't making it any better, but he couldn't help it. At first, all he could think of was that werewolf. Those horrifically dull yellow eyes, staring into his soul. He hadn't felt a surge of emotion so strongly since he'd been an enlisted man… since he tried to take his own life. Frustrated with his impermanence, Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose again, trying to clear his head of the memory of the disgusting creature. Soon, other thoughts found themselves rushing to his head.

Thoughts of Seras.

He thought of how she, in all of her wickedness, had saved him. He thought of how that ugly creature's head slid off of its body after she'd pumped molten hot silver into its neck. He'd thought of her face, so earnest, so afraid for him. How could that be possible? How, exactly, could a demoness such as Seras be so exceptionally terrified for a man of the cloth? Not of… but for. What did it mean? He wanted greatly to accredit it to her dirty, evil tricks. He wanted to attribute it to the fact that she was a succubus, a devilish creature of the night, trying to corrupt his very soul… but it wasn't possible. No woman with eyes like hers could possibly ever have those intentions.

He'd seen eyes like those in the children he'd watched over. He knew that unmistakable innocence; that unwavering fear and trust and awe all wrapped into one quivering, uncertain package. It simply wasn't possible that a creature such as Seras could manifest those feelings, he told himself. It couldn't be real. His head was fighting with all its might against his heart, and he wasn't sure which one was going to win. He wasn't sure he wanted either to win.

'Oi, tea!'

The Paladin was yanked from the depths of his thoughts by that musical, girlish voice. And sure enough, there was tea; hot tea. He could absolutely go for a cup, right about now.

'Milk and sugar, Alex?'

Seras held her breath momentarily. Alex?Where on earth did that come from…?

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she stood there, deadpan.

'Erm. Well, here's the, uh… milk. And… sugar.'

The young midian set the tray down and Anderson went to work fixing his tea. He didn't care about how hot it was; he needed something to calm his nerves and this would certainly do the trick. If there was one thing Seras had a talent for, it was brewing good, Scottish black tea.

For a while, they both sat in silence. Seras sipped daintily at her drink, while Anderson had one cup… and another… and then another. She watched him, wondering what was going on in that turbulent mind of his. She would do her best to stick to her promise though, no telepathy; despite how extremely tempting it was. His eyes said enough about his frustration to make her want to invade the deepest reaches of his mental confines, but she restrained herself. A promise was a promise.

'You did really well, tonight.' She squeaked.

Anderson pulled himself away from his fourth cup of sugary liquid, and gave her a questioning look.

'I mean,' she stuttered, a bit shaken by his direct stare. 'Y-you handle a gun pretty well. Especially one that big.'

Seras offered him a smile, but he did not reciprocate.

'Would'nae needed it, had these seals not been stuck t'me.'

'You know, you wouldn't be alive without those.'

'That might've been fer the best.'

She sat there in silence again, digesting his words. Minutes passed by as she attempted to dissect his thought patterns. How could this be so unbearable to him? She simply couldn't understand it. Why did he fight so strongly against the gift of life? How conflicted he must be, she thought. How dearly she wanted to invade his mind. Oh well… if she couldn't use her powers, she'd just have to do it the old fashioned way.

'Do you believe in fate, Father?'

He lowered his cup again, giving the question his full attention. Fate was a matter he considered himself to be quite well versed on.

'I believe tha' every creature walkin' this earth has a destination,' He began. 'I believe tha' the Holy Father gives each 'o us a charge, a mission tae carry out while we exist in corporeality.'

His eyes were locked with the Draculina's, bright emerald with Aqua.

'When we complete our duty to th 'Lord, he rewards us. He bestows upon us th' gift of everlasting life in Heaven.' His grip on the cup tightened. 'An' some of us choose to waste that gift. Some of the Lord's creatures, like you,' He continued. 'Choose to not accept it.' His words stung her.

Seras' lips tightened and she looked on at the ex-priest. She felt a knot form in her throat.

'That's why my life is an abomination unto the Lord.' He looked down at his cup, a melancholy expression on his face. Seras could count the amount of times she'd seen him look genuinely sad on one hand.

'But…' she began, her words coming quietly. 'You didn't waste it.'

Anderson looked up, perplexed. 'How d'you mean?'

'You didn't waste his gift, Anderson.' Seras leaned forward. 'You were dead when we found you.'

He could only stare at her.

'Half your face was… well, it was missing. Your left arm was not much of an arm; there were pieces of you… literally everywhere. You were shattered, completely.'

Despite her warm tone, Anderson did not particularly care to be reminded of his disgraceful defeat, handed to him by Alucard.

'When Sir Integra found you, she was originally planning to have what was left of you shipped back to the Vatican, but…'

Seras paused, not sure whether or not she should continue on. There was a great deal of information he had not been made aware of, and she could hardly believe that this particular piece of had not been disclosed to him. She assumed that Integra would have at least made him aware of something this important.

'That… nail was still stuck inside of your chest.' She sighed. 'It was still coursing energy through you… I guess Sir Integra knew what to do with it, I'm not sure…'

Anderson stared blankly at her, his eyes wide, his expression one of disbelief.

'I don't think God was done with you.' Seras shrugged, her tone becoming bolder. 'If he'd been done with you, that nail wouldn't have been there. You wouldn't have responded… like you did when we put those seals on you. You wouldn't have started regenerating, again… We wouldn't have even found you.'

'Wh… What?'

'If what you say is true, about God giving us missions and all – I mean, I don't think your mission is over. I think he let you keep that nail because he wanted you here, with us. You still have work to do for him, Father. I just… I think that maybe, Rome was just the wrong place for you.'

This was just too much. How on earth… What could he possibly say? Anderson lifted his hand shakily, pressing his fingers over his chest. Yes – she was right. It was there, he could feel its energy! The ex-priest swallowed thickly and kept his hand right where it was. This was too much. He could barely process it. She was right. She was bloody right!

'I… cannae… believe…'

Seras knit her brows and waited. The look of disbelief and confusion on the poor Paladin's face was almost too much for her to bear. He kept his hand over his heart, and set the teacup down. There were a million emotions emanating from him, and they radiated towards her like heat from a furnace. Sadness, joy, relief, anger, humiliation, desperation, they all flowed out of him and surrounded her. She drew them in like a sponge, but not of her own accord. She couldn't help it, it was in her nature to absorb everything… blood or emotion made no difference. No amount of mental barricading could prevent it.

The Draculina didn't seem to think twice. She rose from her seat, strode over to the shaken man, and embraced him.

He barely moved, but Seras didn't care. How could Integra have omitted this information? How could she have hidden it from him? Not only was he being forced to serve alongside what he discerned as demons, but he hadn't even been fully informed of the circumstances behind his reanimation. Seras was angry with her Master's master for that, and she would be sure to address it the next chance she got. For now, she felt as though she had to stay with the Paladin. He made no request of her to do so, but his spilling emotion had a hold on her.

The midian rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck. Never in a lifetime would she have ever thought that she'd find herself in this position – comforting one of her former enemies. For the longest time, she'd had an immense fear of him. For the longest time, she could not consider him human. He was an instrument of God – a Regenerator; a dangerous and formidable challenger, even for her Master, Alucard. And now, what was he? He was a man, wrapped in her arms. He was a man whose faith had been simultaneously crushed and reaffirmed. He was vulnerable.

'My God, My God…' He muttered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. 'Forgive me. Please Lord, forgive me.'

He was barely conscious of the Draculina holding him. He was so wrapped up in his own astonishment and revelation that he was barely aware of her hands on him. How could he have been so blind? He questioned himself over and over again. How could he have been so pompous as to assume that the Lord had been abandoned him? He understood now. He understood why he hadn't felt the Almighty's presence. He knew – The Lord had been waiting for him to open his eyes – his heart. Was it a test? He couldn't be sure. All he knew at that very moment was the sensation that he'd been without for so long. That great surge of sanctified power began to flow within him once again, and he felt stronger. He felt new.

'You don't have anything to apologize for,' she offered. 'You didn't know. I thought Sir Integra… I thought she'd told you. Or, the doctors even! God, I can't believe they didn't tell you!'

Slowly, Anderson brought his hands up over Seras' shoulders, and he separated her from him. At first, she went still – she wasn't sure if she had upset him. Normally, it would have been fairly easy to tell… however, with all of this sensation surging around her, it was hard for Seras to discern what was her doing, and what wasn't.

Anderson had her by the shoulders, now. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed, hoping to God that she hadn't offended him. She wanted to help him, not hurt him. The expression on his face was very difficult to read… it was placid, but serious. His eyes were alight with fire, and slowly, just the barest hint of a smile crept up onto his lips. Awkwardly, Seras reciprocated, still unsure of what exactly to do.

'Thanks fer the tea, lassie.' He offered. The response was not what she'd been expecting, exactly.

The young vampiress watched him as he stood. He towered over her, and she got up as well, if only for to move out of his way. The Paladin heaved a sigh, rubbed the back of his neck, and then reached for his glasses and bible. The glasses went on, their lenses flashing in the dim light of the room, and the bible was tucked safely under his arm. He had such an air of purpose about him, and Seras kept on smiling, feeling something akin to relief. She wasn't sure where he was going or what he was going to do, but there was an aura of positivity that she had never felt around him before.

'If you'll excuse me, now…' He began.

'I think… I think I've got quite a bit 'o prayin' to do.'

A/N: Whew. This was a super fun chapter to write. I love doing the interaction between Seras and Alex… I'm trying not to make it too schmoopy too fast, but boy oh boy is it ever tempting, hahaha :3

Anyways, you guys seemed to enjoy my last little bit of arting, so here is another one for your perusal:

http : / i54 . tinypic . com / orl55w . png

As per usual, remove the spaces and copypaste it to your browser. :3