She woke, several hours later, blinking. It was nighttime now, and the entire room had been plunged into darkness. For a moment she was afraid, but then she realized that she wasn't alone. Which made her relax.
He stepped in from the bathroom, having stepped away to splash water on his face, and smiled as he saw her awake. He could see her clearly, even in the darkness, and it seemed to him as if she glowed to his eyes. So very beautiful.
He held up a glass of water.
"Something to drink, dear?"
He marveled at this beauty before him, and that she would spend this night with him, and care for him... it seemed impossible.
Not a lie completely. He had found himself fading to wakefullness from something that had surely been sleep... surely. Even if it had felt like... death.
He carried the water to her and smiled, eyes taking her in, every inch of her.
"Magnificent."
His voice was quiet, and full of emotions even he could not completely think to name.
She blushed darkly and took the glass from him,her hand brushing over his. "Thank you." A quick kiss was pressed to his cheek, and she took a long drink.
He smiled at that and nodded, then moved away, to find his coat, and shirt, almost tripping over her shirt as well as he did so. He lifted it, inhaled her scent, and then turned to return it to her.
"And you? Did you sleep well, dear woman?"
The words felt awkward, and yet she pulled to him.
"I did. I thought, since it was daylight. . .but, yes, I slept very well."
Perhaps she worked some manner of night job? Maybe they were both police men.
After a couple more drinks she had finished the glass, and began groping for the bedside table. Unfortunately, she tripped over his errant coat, and fell, the glass smashing under her hand.
Hearing the sound, he whirled, and his eyes seemed to zoom in on her hand, and the blood there.
"Dear!"
He moved. And he didn't understand, but somehow between one step and another he was there at her side, lifting her hand gently. He was somehow on one knee, and looking up at her, blood from her hand touching his.
It drew him, and he felt an awful, impelling, compelling hunger... He shuddered and bowed his head over her hand, unable to resist the call to touch his lips, and his tongue, to her blood.
And the next instant, it felt like fire, itself had burst into his lungs, and a wall of something, powerful, dark, and deep, rushed up to swallow him alive.
Alucard staggered back from her, and then straightened up, staring down at her, and then looking around. He didnt remember getting here, or why he was dressed as he was... or anything. Which meant only one thing. The word hissed out of his mouth as his eyes gleamed.
He blinked at her, a low move, and took his coat, casually dropping her shirt on the bed and turning away to survey the room.
"Obviously we were enspelled and imprisoned and I had just arrived in your room... unless you think something else happened?"
His words were layered as he struggled for control. He had no idea what had happened and the implications were huge, and such that he could not... he... must not think about them. And so he veiled himself in their previous relationship, flirt, servant, and monster.
He was a monster, a walking corpse. She would never, and could never, see him as anything but. Obviously something had happened, but nothing like. . .that.
Before she grabbed her gun she located her cigar case.
His quiet laugh sounded as he let himself spin and fade to vapor, flowing away and out into the hall. There he took up station, even as he set himself to rights.
It took all she had not to shoot him through the door. But after a few minutes she had herself composed, and stormed out the door, ignoring Alucard completely.
He held up a glass of water.
"Something to drink, dear?"
He marveled at this beauty before him, and that she would spend this night with him, and care for him... it seemed impossible.
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Why did that sound like a stupid thing to say? "Did you sleep well?"
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Not a lie completely. He had found himself fading to wakefullness from something that had surely been sleep... surely. Even if it had felt like... death.
He carried the water to her and smiled, eyes taking her in, every inch of her.
"Magnificent."
His voice was quiet, and full of emotions even he could not completely think to name.
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"And you? Did you sleep well, dear woman?"
The words felt awkward, and yet she pulled to him.
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Perhaps she worked some manner of night job? Maybe they were both police men.
After a couple more drinks she had finished the glass, and began groping for the bedside table. Unfortunately, she tripped over his errant coat, and fell, the glass smashing under her hand.
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"Dear!"
He moved. And he didn't understand, but somehow between one step and another he was there at her side, lifting her hand gently. He was somehow on one knee, and looking up at her, blood from her hand touching his.
It drew him, and he felt an awful, impelling, compelling hunger... He shuddered and bowed his head over her hand, unable to resist the call to touch his lips, and his tongue, to her blood.
And the next instant, it felt like fire, itself had burst into his lungs, and a wall of something, powerful, dark, and deep, rushed up to swallow him alive.
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And then there was a rush, like soemthing inside her wakening, stretching, filling her mind.
The mind of Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, baronettes, knight, and vampire slayer. "Alucard!"
Her next movement was for her gun, but she wasn't wearing it.
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"Magic."
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Good Lord, was that her holster all the way over there? What had she been thinking?
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"Obviously we were enspelled and imprisoned and I had just arrived in your room... unless you think something else happened?"
His words were layered as he struggled for control. He had no idea what had happened and the implications were huge, and such that he could not... he... must not think about them. And so he veiled himself in their previous relationship, flirt, servant, and monster.
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He was a monster, a walking corpse. She would never, and could never, see him as anything but. Obviously something had happened, but nothing like. . .that.
Before she grabbed her gun she located her cigar case.
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And he did not think of what might have happened.
He did not.
"What an amusing night..."
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"Where to, Sir Integral?"
There was only polite inquiry now in his voice.
That could be heard anyway.
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Though, of course, it's been no time at all back home.
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