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Bite Down	By : Crystalwren Category: Hellsing > General Views: 3734 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: Hellsing and its characters are the legal and moral property of Kouta Hirano and Studio Gonzo.

�Do it,� she says, her voice as cold and hard as the
expression in her eyes.

Seras swallows and slides her fingers under the tiepin,
feeling the silver�s icy burn even through her gloves. She unclasps it and lays
it to the side, on the table. She can�t quite find a place to settle her eyes.
To stare directly as Integra�s face seems unbearably rude; to stare past her
even more so, but neither is as bad as where she really wants to look: at the
snow white bandages around the other�s neck, covering the wound- the blood-
that she knows is there.

�Take off your gloves,� and Seras tugs them off a finger
at a time. She doesn�t know where to put them when she�s done. She dithers for
an instant before stuffing them into a pocket in her skirt.

�Are you frightened?� asks Integra, an indecipherable
smile twisting her lips.

Seras looks up and nods miserably. There is a gun on the
table, next to where she put the tiepin and Seras knows that it is loaded and
the safety is off.

�Good,� she says with satisfaction. Seras bites her lip
and wishes she were somewhere else.

No one, not even her
Master it seemed, knew with any certainty what exactly had happened in the time
before they came bursting into Integra�s office to find the vampire-whore
embracing her. Integra�s glasses were off; her shirt was unbuttoned. Blood on
her neck, blood soaking through her blouse and jacket. Smell of violation and
helpless rage hanging in the air. Laura died. Integra clenched the dagger in
her fist, the lethal little knife, and drove it into her own neck. Master laughing. Walter rushing forward
and clamping his hands over the wound. Blood, so much blood, the air was
thick with it, and the scent of rape was overwhelmed
and forgotten.

But not entirely. Not
by Integra.

Before she was summoned to the office, she�d been in
her room, lying on her coffin bed, staring at the canopy and thinking of
nothing much. Master was there. He�d taken to spending time in her room over
the past few days. At first she�d been tense and upset, worried and frightened
about whatever reasons he had for being there, but gradually she�d relaxed and
began to enjoy his presence. Neither talking. Master leaning back in her single chair, feet on her table and
staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally he�d turn his head and stare at
her, long, measured glances as though he was thinking very hard about
something. And when the knock and the summons came he�d looked at her straight
in the eye and bared his teeth.

�Bite down,� he said, �and I�ll kill you.� And then she
was hustled away before she had a chance to ask what he meant.

She was lead up to Integra�s office, told to enter and
stand to attention before the desk. Integra had stood, taking a cane and
leaning heavily upon it �as she carefully made her way to the
door and flicked the lock shut. She commanded Seras to approach and stand
beside her as she lowered herself back into the chair. She�d taken her handgun
from her shoulder holster and laid it on the table. Then she�d told the vampire
get down on her knees.

Integra picks up the gun for the table and holds it for a
second, hefting it gently in her hands. It�s a small calibre pistol, no
comparison to Seras� Harkonen or even the much
smaller rifles used by the men on their raids, but it still scares her as
Integra begins to run it gently down the side of her face like a caress. The
message is very clear and very simple: do
as I tell you. She can hear Integra�s heart beating hard and fast, and it
only gets faster as the Director presses the pistol�s muzzle firmly between her
eyes. Seras holds herself very, very still. Seconds stretch into eternity
before Integra relaxes, raises her hand and puts the gun back on the table.
Seras stares at the floor.

�Pretty Seras,� says Integra thoughtfully, and it�s all so
strange, so fucking unreal, like the pictures Seras has seen of burning giraffes
and melting clocks and women with drawers in their stomachs and any second now
Seras thinks she�ll hear Integra shout, �surprise!� and laugh. But she doesn�t
and instead she reaches forward and runs her fingers over Seras� face in
exactly the same way she�d touched her with the gun. �Pretty Seras,� again, as
she pushes her fingers into her mouth, forcing her head up so she can touch her
fangs. Saliva gushes unexpectedly.

Bite down, and I�ll
kill you.

Seras wants to cry.

Integra takes her hands away and leans back into her
chair. Leather creaks as she folds her hands in her lap, immaculate gloves now soiled
and wet. She looks away. Seras stays on her knees.

�You can take off my tie now.�

Seras has to stand to do it, and she�s so anxious about
not hurting Integra she fumbles and makes it worse. Finally, the other woman
clicks her tongue in annoyance and does it herself. She tugs the heavy satin
ribbon out from under her collar and drops it on the table. Satin tie, silver
cross-pin and steel gun arranged like holy objects on an altar. Symbols of duty, religion and death.

�Unbutton my jacket. Then my shirt.�

She smells like blood and antiseptic. Seras tugs the
blouse open without being asked. She finds herself staring at Integra�s bra, at
her breasts rising and falling gently with each firmly controlled breath. She
swallows and looks up into Integra�s eyes. Integra smiles.

�Touch me.�

Integra�s skin is warm and soft between the white bindings
at her neck. There is a second strip of bandage around her stomach,
disappearing under her trousers. Integra is still smiling as her head falls
back, pushing her chest into Seras� hands, and Seras finds herself cupping the
other woman�s breasts, over and over, starting at her armpits, gliding down the
side and then curling under. She�s never touched someone else like this and the
contrast between utilitarian white cotton and coffee-cream flesh is so
fascinating that she forgets, for a second, her misery and her fear and all she
can think of is the way it feels under her fingertips.

�Do you want me?�

Seras looks up, startled. Integra is looking at her
intently. �Do you want me?� she asks again. �Am I beautiful?�

Seras swallows. �You�re very beautiful, sir.� She realises
that her hands are still on Integra�s chest and she takes them away and hides
them behind her back.

�Do you want me?�

Seras shuts her eyes tight. �I don�t know,� she whispers.

�You don�t know?�

�I don�t know. Please.�

�Please what?� she sounded puzzled.

�Please, I don�t know.�

Seras risks opening her eyes and finds Integra staring at
her hard, the familiar cold calculation in her eyes. Seras had never in her
life seen a person with such vividly coloured eyes before she met Integra
Hellsing. You�d think her glasses would mute the colour, but they didn�t. When
she looked at you, her gaze was sharp enough to cut.�

�Kneel,� she says finally, and Seras kneels. Integra
spreads her legs wide in the chair and she looks like debauched aristocracy,
her jacket and blouse gaping open and the crotch of her trousers tight against
her body. �Lick me,� and Seras scuttles forward and presses between her thighs.
She hesitates before leaning forward, but it�s obvious
what Integra wants and what Integra wants Integra gets. She begins to lick,
starting with the valley between her breasts. Integra sighs.

�Do you know,� she says dreamily, �what Carmila did to me?
Hm?�
She begins to stroke Seras� hair, smoothing the spikes almost absently. �She
did exactly what you�re doing now, little vampire. She took off my cross, she
undid my shirt. She did exactly what you�re doing now. Then she bit me.�

Seras
goes very, very still.

�She
bit me on my right breast, right where your mouth is now, though the fabric of
my brassiere.�

She
feels Integra�s hand press something long and cold and hard against her scalp
and knows that she�s holding a knife. She�d lay odds it was the same Laura had
used.

�Did
I say you could stop?�

Seras
starts again.

�I
couldn�t move. I couldn�t move at all. I was asleep when she came in, you see,
and that�s when she cast the spell. It�s easier for that particular type of
vampire to do it when their victim is asleep. I, Sir Integra Hellsing, head of
the Hellsing family, head of the Hellsing Organisation, just another, pathetic,
helpless victim! What a joke!�

The
stroking turns rough. Her head is yanked back roughly as Integra takes the
knife in her other hand and holds it against her throat.

�I
am not helpless,� she hisses.

�I
know,� says Seras. It�s the only thing she can think to say.

Integra
pushes her away, and tries to stand up. She fails the first time, but manages
the second when Seras, after prising the knife out of the woman�s palm, helps
her by taking her elbow. She pushes the vampire aside and grabs her cane,
stands in front of the window. Seras can see their reflections in the glass,
side by side, and Integra�s pale face is so beautiful. She hears Integra mutter
one word:

�Whore.�

It
cuts her.

There
is silence. Integra is staring at her in the window, at the reflection of the
vampire. Seras says nothing. She realises she is looking at the curves of
Integra�s breasts in the glass and she hurriedly looks up at the Director�s
face. By the way her mouth twitches, Seras knows she�d
been seen. Integra sighs, and turns around. She steps back towards the chair
and Seras moves to help her.

�Don�t
touch me!� Integra tries to push her away but only succeeds in loosing her
balance. Seras catches her and gently lowers her into the chair, her hair
gently brushing the side of Seras' face. She is startled by how soft and warm
it was, and she draws back, raising a hand to brush it behind Integra�s ear. She freezes; Integra�s face, cupped in her hand; Integra�s mouth,
so close to her own; Integra�s breath, ever-so-slightly sour.

�You
look frightened,� says Integra quietly.

�I
am frightened.�

�Hurt
me and I�ll kill you.�

Seras
licks her lips nervously. She�s only kissed someone once in her life. Some boy
behind the bike shed at high school. She hadn�t liked it. He�d tasted like bad
meat and he�d slobbered as he�d groped at her chest. She had kneed him in the
groin and after that none of the boys would go near her, leaving her to finish
school a despised virgin with a reputation for violence.

Integra
had closed her eyes.

Seras
leans forward and presses her mouth against hers.

There
are no floods of passion, no great gush of desire. They kiss and it is clumsy
and it is brief and Seras� fangs get in the way, but they manage somehow and
when they draw apart it is there, like some huge, momentous secret: they had
kissed.

She
leans forward and takes Integra in her arms. Integra is taller,
and heavier than herself but she lifts the woman as easily as if she were just
a small child. She picks her up and Integra snakes her arms around Seras� neck
and presses her lips to her cheek.

�Carry me to that door over there,� a careless wave at the wall.

Seras
obediently moves towards it. She sets Integra down and the woman fumbles at the
doorknob, pulling a key from her pocket. She unlocks it and Seras follows her dumbly
through a sitting room, a small, private study with shelves lined with books
and then into a bare room with nothing but a four-poster bed and a dressing
table. Integra moves carefully, her hand on the wall, leaning against it. She
closes the bedroom door behind them both and moves slowly to the bed. She
lowers herself down onto the mattress and sighs, looking suddenly very
vulnerable and very tired.

�This
isn�t turning out the way I had thought,� she says.

The
vampire has the sudden, hysterical urge to laugh.

Integra
begin to unbutton the cuffs of her jacket and blouse. �You�ll have to help me
take these off.�

Seras
walks to the edge of the bed and sits down beside her. Integra turns away and
spreads her arms and Seras tugs first the jacket off, and then the blouse.
Suddenly impatient she tosses them on the floor, reaching for the clip of
Integra�s bra and snapping it open. The other says nothing as Seras flattens
her palms against her shoulder blades, stroking the straps off her shoulders.

�Who
helps you dress?�

�Walter.�

�Oh.�

Integra
turns back around and pulls the bra off, throwing it on top of the blouse and
jacket on the floor. It looked strange, the discarded garments on the bedroom
floor of this precisely neat and immaculate woman, but Seras has no time to
think as Integra wraps her arms around her neck and presses their lips together
once again. This time it is better, and Seras feels something in the pit of her
stomach begin to move, begin to clench. She doesn�t know precisely what she
wants but she knows it has something to do with Integra�s bare breasts pressed
against hers. She draws back and begins fumbling with the buttons on her
blouse. Integra watches her with hooded, lazy eyes and suddenly Seras realises
that she�s wearing the oldest of her bras, worn and stained. Blushing furiously
she wraps her arms around herself to cover it. Integra quirks her mouth and
raises an eyebrow. Seras realises it�s hopeless to try to hide the thing and
instead decides to get rid of it entirely. She doesn�t feel much better without
it. Her breasts were large, too large, she�d been told and she often felt them
to be misshapen. She hunches her shoulders as Integra calmly inspects them,
lifting them up in her hands to test their weight. Her hands are cold. She
leans forward again and again they kiss.

�This
is insane,� she mutters.

�Master
would say that sanity is overrated,� ventures Seras timidly. Integra gives an
unladylike snort.

�He
would, wouldn�t he?�

Integra
moves further back on to the bed and lies down on it fully, flicking her hair
out from under her neck so it streams up and around her like a halo. Seras
touches her glasses.

�Leave
them.� Voice as icy as ever.

They
kiss again, Seras lowering herself down on top of Integra carefully, so as not
to jar her. She realises that they are both still wearing their shoes and stops
to pull them off, first Integra�s then her own. She throws them down on top of
the clothing on the floor and when she turns back Integra is watching her with those
hard, cold eyes and suddenly, suddenly, Seras has the overwhelming urge to
shatter that hardness, to see Integra�s eyes soften until they look like a
person�s eyes should. Seras darts forward and presses her mouth against
Integra�s as she roughly gropes her between her legs. Integra�s response is
instantaneous. She pushes Seras up and slaps the vampire hard across the face.
Her lip catches on her fang and the sweet copper taste of blood explodes across
her tongue. She grabs Integra�s hands and pins them above her head. All she can
taste, all she can smell is blood and she growls and
darts forward and mouths the white bandage around the other woman�s neck.

Bite down, Police Girl, and
I�ll kill you.

It hits her like a bucket of cold water, and through the
scream that is her entire body crying out for blood she can hear Integra asking
her, telling her to stop.

She
rears back, horrified at what she�s done, what she�s about to do and stares at
Integra wildly.

�That�s
enough Seras,� she says calmly, and Seras wants to shout, to scream, aren�t you angry, aren�t you frightened? I
was just about to do what Laura did to you, but Integra only stares up at
her, the calmest she�s been all evening.

�I�m
sorry,� says Seras, her voice shaking.

�I
know,� says Integra.

She
clambers off of Integra, accidentally striking her stomach with her knee as she
does and Integra makes a small grunting sound in the back of her throat but she
doesn�t cry out. Seras pulls on her shirt and her jacket, fumbles with the
buttons, shoves her bra into the same pocket at her gloves, drags on her boots,
hoping on one leg in her haste. She�s halfway out the door before Integra calls
her name. She stops with her hand on the doorknob, but doesn�t turn around.

�Thank
you,� Integra says, and Seras leaves.

Through the study, through the sitting room, back into Integra�s office
and out the door there. She gets the shock of her life when she nearly collides with Walter on
her way out. He starts to give her his usual small smile in greeting but when
he sees that her jacket is buttoned wrong and her gloves are missing it
disappears off his face and is replaced by such a chilling expression of rage
she can only push past him and bolt back down to her room. She runs all the way
there and she�s glad, glad, glad that she�s a vampire and can outrun any human
being that ever lived and she�s moving too fast for anyone to see her face.

She
pushes open her door and crashes into the room and slams the door shut behind
her. She�s breathing heavily, panting, almost sobbing, and she raises her eyes
to meet Alucard�s. He�s still sitting in her chair with his feet on her table,
and she knows that he knows exactly what went on upstairs.

�Master,�
she says desperately, her voice breaking on the word.

He
blinks at her slowly, like a great cat. �It�s all right,� he murmurs finally.
�There�s no need to be upset.�

�I
almost�I mean, I nearly��

�Yes,
I know.� He stands up. �But you didn�t.� He doesn�t say, so I won�t kill you after all, but it�s there anyway.

Seras
slides down until she reaches the floor. Master crouches beside her and regards
her thoughtfully. After a while he reaches out and gives her a kind of pat on
the head. Seras wraps her arms around her knees and buries her face. She
shudders, and begins to cry. Master says nothing. Eventually the sobs peter out
and she leans back on the door and stares at the ceiling. Silence for a while.
Eventually she coughs, clearing her throat.

�I
didn�t realise Sir Integra was�� She peters out when Master curls his lip.

He
stares at her for an uncomfortable few moments, his expression indecipherable.
Then he leans forward and licks her face, a soft swipe across the tracks of
blood tears.

�Walter
looked so angry��

�He�ll
get over it.�

�I
don�t understand why.�

Master
shrugs and stands, his limited attention span obviously gone. He reaches down
and pats Seras on the head again.

�Good
girl,� he says, and steps through the wall.

Seras
sighs and picks herself up. She kicks off her boots, turns off the light and
makes her way to her bed and drops down on it without bothering to get undressed.
Her head whirls. Walter�s face. Integra�s
eyes. The way she�d said whore, and
the way she�d said thank you.

Thank you for what? Thank you
for stopping? Thank you for doing what you did? Thank you for not biting? Thank
you for kissing, for touching?

Seras sighs again and rolls
over. She fumbles until she finds the remote and presses it with a click.
There�s a soft
whirring sound and the canopy begins to lower itself.

Master was right, she thinks. Humans are incomprehensible.

Already the whole thing seemed unreal, like it happened a
long time ago to someone else. The idea of Integra Hellsing having sex, kissing
another woman, kissing her, her, Seras
Victoria is just too strange.

She closes her eyes in the dark and remembers the taste of
Integra�s skin and the shape of her breasts.

END

(NOTES:
This was beta�d some time ago, by the lovely Woodburner and Kelles. I have the
upmost gratitude for both of them and of course, any remaining errors are
purely mine.

Both
of them raised some very valid points regarding Integra�s characterisation,
probably the exact same ones you�re thinking of right now. This story was
originally written as part of a five-story arc, two of which have been
completed with bits of the other three floating around in no particular order.
I hope to finish this story arc sometime in the hopefully not-too-distant
future, so I�m not going to give anything away right now. However, since I�m in
something of a rut right now I�ve been looking through old back up discs and sorting
through some old writing, and after all the work that the three of us put into
this piece it seemed a shame to leave it lonely.)
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