Now for the fun part.

Standard disclaimer here.

Dr. Trevellian looked up when Alucard dropped in. The vampire had a strange smile on his face.

"Sir Hellsing has agreed. However, your apothecary friend will need to sign a few forms."

"Of course." Dr. Trevellian had done the same years ago. He pulled out his mobile and dialed a number. Alucard opened a drawer in Integral's desk, keeping his ears tuned to the doctor's conversation.

"Somebody better be dying, Michael." A sleepy, feminine voice growled. Alucard's ears perked.

"Not quite, but it is serious." Michael said. Alucard heard a match strike, then puffing. She smoked?

"Go ahead."

"Two patiends, one a 58 year old male, the other a 20 year old female. Both have the worst case of influenza I've seen this year."

"Hang on. Let me get to my desk so I can write this all down." More puffs, a faint curse, doors opening and slamming. "This early call is going to cost you."

"I know." Michael grinned.

"All right. Go ahead."

"Temperature's 103 and 102, respectively. Fatigue, body aches, headaches, disorientation. The male patient has had one fainting episode." A pen scratching in between drags.

"Vitals?"

"BP 178 over 55 for the male. 180 over 60 on the female. Oxygenation levels above 90."

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"No, but lack of appetite in the female."

"Your treatments?"

"Motrin."

"That's it?"

"They need 24 hour supervision. You're the best person for the night shift, Rowan. Besides, your herbals have worked better in these cases."

"You are going to hate my fee."

"Don't worry. Sir Hellsing can afford it." Alucard snickered at the gasp on the other end.

"Sir....Hellsing."

"You've heard of her?"

"Rich, titled, reclusive, icily beautiful, rumored to be slightly off her rocker." Alucard stiffened and glared at the mobile. Who DARED to imply Integral was anything other then brilliant?

"You will need to sign some forms when you arrive. Sir Hellsing insists on her privacy." Michael took the forms from Alucard's limp hand. The vampire was still trying to kill the phone with his eyes.

"I'll bet. All right, give me an hour or so."

"Thank you, Rowan."

"I'm looking forward to the new computer." The line clicked dead. Michael looked at Alucard.

"You haven't heard that rumor, I see."

"Who?" Alucard hissed, turning his burning eyes on Michael. The doctor shrugged.

"I have no idea."

"I will ask this Rowan." Alucard dissolved into shadows and slid under the door. Michael shrugged and gathered his things.

* * *

Meanwhile, six miles away, Rowan Ascot stubbed out her homemade clove-n-mugwort, sighed and frowned at the paper sitting on her workbench. HELLSING.

"Well, at least my questions will be answered." She said, heading off for a shower.

I really need a title for this.

Oh well. I don't own Hellsing. I just like to play with them.

Exactly one hour later, a canary-yellow Vespa chugged to a stop outside the gates. A guard opened the gates, showing the person was expected. The rider drove through and parked the moped just to the right, behind the wall. The engine died, the kickstand went down and the rider stood. Taking off the white helmet, she shook down shoulder length, silver-brown hair. She popped the seat, retrieving a black bag and stowing the helmet. A twist removed the igniton stick, that and the keys went into the pocket of the leather bomber jacket. Sensible boots hit the pavement and the guards watched, somewhat bemused, as the woman strolled to the mansion. While the jeans weren't snug, there was that about her walk that suggested...something. She hadn't taken off the white scarf either.

* * *

Rowan Ascot knocked on the door of the mansion, whistling They Might Be Giants(TM) softly. Michael Treveillian opened the door. She cocked her head in surprise.

"Come on in, Rowan. The butler is indisposed." Michael explained, chuckling. Rowan took off her sunglasses and tucked them into her jacket. Blue/green eyes swept the foyer.

"Is he one of the patients?" She asked, walking inside. A maid appeared, bobbing a curtsey. Rowan gave her a disgruntled look as she handed off her scarf and jacket, taking time to move her keys, stick and sunglasses into her jeans pockets. Under the jacket was a lavender jersey with an infinity symbol on the back. Michael waited until the maid had left before guiding Rowan over to a nearby table.

"Yes. These are the forms." Rowan picked up the first and read it through carefully. By the foot of the stairs, shadows started to collect.

"'Immediate and complete termination'? Sir Hellsing is deadly serious, isn't she? I'm surprised she doesn't want it in blood." Rowan observed, her mouth twitching at the bad pun. Michael looked resigned. Rowan shrugged and signed the form.

"That could be arranged." A sardonic voice said at her elbow. Rowan glanced over, then returned her gaze to the second form requiring all documentation, electronic files and recorded observations be turned over to Dr. Trevellian. A hiss whispered over her arm and slithered up to her neck. She signed the form, then turned. Alucard stood beside her, arms folded and glaring. His fangs gleamed in a sadistic smile.

"Would you be the executor, then?" She asked, looking him over. Michael choked.

"Lord Alucard, this is Rowan Ascot. Rowan, this is Lord Alucard, Sir Integral's...associate."

"Protector. You, Miss Ascot, have some explaining to do." Alucard growled, stepping forward. Rowan refused to give ground, merely tipping her neck back to watch him. His eyes dilated as he caught her scent. Was it...possible?

"Seeing as I've only been here five minutes and was not late to begin with, I fail to see I owe you explanations for anything. Now, if you'll excuse me. Michael?" Rowan sidestepped Alucard and strolled to the stairs. Michael took one look at Alucard and dashed after the woman. Their voices faded as they disappeared up the stairs, Rowan already making demands. Alucard collapsed into shadows and followed her. If there was any chance, he would find out. And then...