"You know you should really try to avoid making such a mess in the future Alucard," Rarity sighed as she held Twilight's bloodied uniform up against the light, her nose wrinkling slightly in obvious distaste. "You do know blood is particularly hard to wash out of the Hellsing Uniform, and black is such an easy colour to ruin."

"It shall be stained many times over my dear Rarity," Alucard chuckled quietly. "It might be better to simply let the blood stains sink in."

"How ghastly," Rarity sighed, setting down Twilight's clothes and turning to face the vampire. "I am well aware of your fondness for the colour red but I simply cannot abide by it."

"I'm sorry I get it all bloody," Twilight apologised meekly. Rarity's expression softened slightly as she turned to face Twilight.

"No don't apologise dear," she said. "It wasn't your fault and I don't blame you at all." Her eyes flicked back to Alucard. "You on the other hand have no excuse. Dear Twilight has barely the faintest idea what she's doing. We can't all magically make wounds disappear and clothes repair themselves like you can."

"Though I know you disagree with Alucard's methods my good Rarity," Trixie interrupted. "I must congratulate you and AJ both for a successful first mission out in the field. Not many Hellsing agents come back alive from their first time out."

"Ah didn't even do anything," Applejack muttered, blushing slightly. Trixie looked at her, a kind look on her face.

"At least you came back."

Applejack smiled at this, though it was laced with barely hidden relief, and fear.

"Perhaps we should speak of other things Sir Trixie?" Rarity suggested, before turning to Twilight. "I do apologize for asking you this but I find I simply cannot contain myself. Did it work? The Bat I mean?"

Twilight blinked before smiling. "It worked perfectly Rarity. Never felt the slightest recoil."

Rarity's smile practically split her face in two it was so wide. "I thought it would! Only it's never been tested see. Alucard adamantly refuses to use anything but the Casull. I know it's his personal favorite toy and, personally one of my best designs but still it would be nice to have some of my vampire intended designs be tested by an actual vampire."

"I'm sure Miss Sparkle will be glad to test all your weapons now that she is here Rarity," Trixie agreed. Twilight smiled and nodded.

"Of course. I'd be happy too... though not tonight. I'm feeling a bit tired."

"Oh of course not darling I wouldn't dream of it," Rarity waved Twilight's apology aside. "We have all the time in the world for us to test my creations. Or at least until this old girl finally kicks it."

"Such an optimistic tone," Alucard commented as Applejack gave a small gasp. "Growing old seems such a pain."

"I suppose it would do to the man who doesn't age," Rarity sighed.

"Agreed," Alucard conceded. "But it could also be said that you have a long way to go before then my dear. After all you are still so full of life."

"Why thank you darling," Rarity said, blowing Alucard a kiss on the tip of her finger. "Now who wants a drink? I think I spotted a new shipment of tea in the kitchen. I believe you prefer the Earl Grey Sir Trixie?"

"Not tonight Rarity," Trixie declined, turning slowly to walk from the room. "I require time to think."

The door closed behind her and Alucard readjusted his glasses: "Much as I would enjoy to partake in some of your excellent culinary skills old friend, I feel weary tonight. I'm going to sleep."

Alucard turned to leave too, though not through the door as Twilight expected but through the cold brick of the wall. Twilight blinked and turned to Applejack. The other woman looked back at Twilight with an expression that seemed to say 'Are you even surprised at this point?' Rarity shook her head in disapproval.

"He does like to show off doesn't he?" she sighed. "Still, can't be helped I suppose. Would either of you two care to accompany me to the kitchen for a late night beverage?"

Twilight looked at Applejack and shrugged. "We'd be happy too."

Trixie sat back in her father's battered old armchair and glared at the many sheets of paper before her. The old mahogany desk had borne many case files over its lifetime in service to the Hellsing family, but never so many in such a short amount of time. And so violent too. So many violent attacks. The vampires were certainly busy for some reason. She had taken many times to the most detailed of the occult tomes at her disposal and had found nothing to suggest why so many vampires were worming their way from the shadows, trying to break through into the light of day, and whore themselves out for the whole world to see.

"Too many," she whispered to herself, picking a casefile at random. "Too many vampire attacks in so little time. It's as if someone were producing these foul creatures on a bloody production line."

She snarled and flung the paper away from her. Her eyes were cold with hatred for the monstrous crimes that had been committed. All the people who had died. People she could have saved... People no doubt her father would have saved.

She sighed and put her head in her hands before she pulled the drawer to her immediate left from its niche beside her. She removed its only contents and held it in both hands, staring intently at it. It was a photograph of her father. Tall. Proud. Regal looking. Dressed like he was about to attend a business meeting, a cigarette clamped between his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Trixie let a single finger stroke her father's face. Not for the first time did she wonder if she was truly prepared to be the leader of Hellsing. There were times when she felt so in control of a situation that she was almost certain that her father would be proud of her. But then... she would come back here. To the desk. In this cold room. She would sit, in his armchair and look at all the people who had died. And during that times, she felt like she was pretending to be something she wasn't. Like she was putting on a show of some great and austere power. Like she was just an actress on a stage, filling in for her father.

And she felt that if her father was not already ashamed of her, she most certainly was.

A knock at the door of her study caught her attention. She straightened up and replaced the picture of her father back into the draw and slid it into place. She cleared her throat a little and rubbed the corner of her eye.

"Come in," she said, a slight waver in her voice.

Rarity pushed the door open with one hand, back straight, a small smile on her face as she approached Trixie with a tray in her hands. A silver teapot sat on said tray, steam coiling from the spout. Beside it was a china teacup on a delicate saucer. A sugar bowl and silver tongs rested beside that and a small china milk jug completed the set.

"I took the liberty of brewing you some Earl Grey Sir Trixie," Rarity said setting the tray down. "I know you said you wished to be left alone but I thought I might make quite sure you would be satisfied. Will you be requiring anything else?"

"No Rarity," Trixie said smiling. Then she paused and held out her hand. "I might be requiring my cigars."

Rarity gave a knowing smile and withdrew the silver case from where it resided in her waistcoat and handed it to Trixie. She bowed slightly and said goodnight as she left the room. Trixie waited for a few moments before she slipped a cigar from the case and set it down. Reaching into the drawer she removed two items. A guillotine-cutter and an packet of matches. A few minutes later she leaned back in her chair once more, lit cigar in hand, smoke trailing form slightly parted lips.

"It's mine! Give it back!"

"Nuh-uh! It's mine!"

The young man looked up from his desk out of the window, readjusting metal rimmed glasses as he did so, a small frown crossing his face at what he saw. Two children, a by and a girl no more than six, engaged in a small tussle over - he had to squint to see what lay on the ground between them - a teddy bear. With a small sigh he pushed his chair back from his desk and got to his feet, grey cassock swishing around his ankles as he did so. He opened the door to his office and stepped out into the corridor, walking swiftly to make sure no-one hurt themselves.

As he emerged outside his eyes widened as he saw the fighting beginning to escalate as he rushed forth, golden crucifix bouncing on his chest as he separated to two children with some difficulty.

"Now both of you stop that!" he scolded, his teal shaded eyes flashing with a hint of danger. The two children stopped fighting and looked up at him with guilty eyes. Certain they weren't going to resume the fight once he let them go, he straightened up, looking down upon the two. "Now what's the meaning of this? There should be no fighting amongst friends now should there?"

"N-no Father," the young boy stammered.

"We're sorry Father," the little girl squeaked.

"Are you now?" he asked. The two children nodded emphatically. He knelt down and picked up the teddy bear that had started the fight and looked up at the sky and the setting sun.

"It's getting dark," he commented. "You two should go inside. Supper will be ready soon, and then straight off to bed the pair of you. Understand?"

"Yes Father," the two children chorused. The little girl's eyes trailed onto the bear in his hand. He caught the glance and shook his head.

"You can have this back once I'm sure the pair of you have learnt your lesson," he told them. The little girl nodded, looking sad.

"Now don't be like that. You'll get this back sooner if you smile. Now run along you two. And don't let me catch you fighting like that again."

"Yes Father!" they said as they began to run back to the building he had just left. He sighed and ran a hand through his wavy blue hair a small smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

"A fine job."

He stiffened at the voice that came from behind him. He turned slowly, looking at the one who had snuck up behind him. A tall man, with tanned brown skin, baby blue eyes - though there were slight bags beneath them - and oily black hail slicked back off of his forehead. He stood tall, back straight, dressed in a crisp blue suit with a red tie. Around one wrist was a golden chain, upon which was hung a single cross.

"Father Richards," the young man said, bowing his head in respects. "I was not informed of your visit. If I had I might have been able to prepare a room in the orphanage."

"Not necessary Shining. I am here on work," Father Richards said, his face sombre.

Father Shining Armor let a small sigh escape, his eyes closing. "I had a feeling you might be," he muttered.

Author's Note

DUN! DUN! ~DUUUUUUUUUUUN~!
Thanks to the following for favouriting:
Chaotic-Bloom
fretsche
Mechfighter12
Reisentanith
Nostromo_Crew
Divin Blade
kirolac

Also can I just say you have some bloody good timing kirolac XD