Chapter Text
Alucard sank through the floors down into the lower levels of the compound. He’d just completed a mission and was wanting to rest before giving a mission report to his master. Recently, he had gotten into the habit of going to her still fresh from the fight, drunk on adrenaline and blood. He would give wildly vivid descriptions of how he had eviscerated her enemies without remorse or hesitation. Apparently she found these displays distasteful and unnecessarily graphic. Ordering him instead to wait until he could ‘remember some manners’ before giving her the report. Oh well, she could go and spoil his fun, not like he cared.
The cool and vast expanse of the basement greeted him from his absence. He usually welcomed the bleak desolation of his chambers, the solitude comforting to him. Although tonight he sensed another's presence in his room, trespassing in his territory. Inside his coffin no less. How bold.
His entire body tensed, rage flooding his veins and clouding his mind. Thin lips curling back, and transforming his face into a fearsome scowl. Feelings of disgust and violation curdling his blood. Who dared invade his space so brazenly? He almost felt pity for the hapless idiot that he was going to make suffer. Marching over to his most sacred object he removed the lid ready to exact vengeance on the trespasser. What he was not expecting was to find the peaceful and sleeping form of his master.
A sudden stillness came over him. Hellsing’s and their flagrant disregard for his privacy. Not even his poor coffin could avoid their touch. What could he possibly do now? Violently tearing the intruder limb from limb was no longer on the table. He pondered this as he examined her. Normally so perfectly manicured she was a sight to behold in sleep. Glasses normally perched on her face sat crooked and deformed by her weight. Thousands of strands of golden thread layed strewn about her, giving her the illusion of a soft halo. Her face was completely relaxed, lips gently parted. It gave her an air of youthfulness he had not seen from her in a while, he was surprised how much he missed it. His eyes trailed down. It seems she had lightened up on a few layers for the occasion. What typical Hellsing flair to change costume before tormenting him. She wore only her slacks and blouse. A sudden sense of relief washed over him for her being courteous enough to leave her boots and cross out of his coffin. His eyes rested on her feet where she wore the most adorable grey socks all decorated with little pink hearts. A remnant of her childhood wardrobe she had yet to throw away. He made a mental note to tease her about it later.
He was suddenly aware of how odd it was that his master was inside of his coffin. It wasn’t something that she had ever had expressed more than a passing curiosity in. Only ever interested in so far as its functionality, as the place where he slept and as a tool that allowed him to cross water, never beyond that. No, she was not concerned with the more intimate role it played in his un-life. A sanctuary of his very own. His birthplace and deathbed all kept in one neat little box. He’d never outright lied to her about its importance. Hopefully she would forgive him for leaving out the details of his sentimentality. How often it was that his previous masters had used this knowledge against him. Best not to reminisce too long on that.
She let out a little moan and turned to sleep on her side. He’d love to see what kind of dreams she was having in his little kingdom. Would they be pleasant filled with softness and simple pleasure, or nightmares vile and horrid enough to make him blush. He rather hoped for the latter, it would serve her right for the unwelcome intrusion.
Overcome with curiosity he sat down on the corner of the coffin. She hated his touch. Slinking away from it like a particularly mistrustful cat. It had happened enough times when she was young for him to not try again. Would she respond the same way in her sleep? He reached down and pet away a strand that had fallen into her face. It was even softer than it looked. What bliss.
Unfortunately his master was a light sleeper and awoke to the tickling sensation across her face. Oh well, looks like his little experiment would have to be cut short.
Her eyes were half lidded and glassy from sleep. She was intensely disorientated, had she not just been at her desk? The pitch black of the room she was in was not helping matters.
“Where am I?” she whispered to herself.
“I’m afraid you're lost, little lamb. You’ve wandered quite far from your pasture,” he answered.