LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXXIII

“I’m sick of these illusions.”

“Are you sure it’s an illusion Angel?” He asked as a dark blob detached itself from the blackness and began slouching towards me.

“What else could it be?” I asked a bit frightened. Something was not right. It was moving closer now, small, dark and vaguely human shaped, humping towards me on uneven limbs.

“Your punishment Angel. Punishment for you insolence penance for your failure”

It was much closer now I could begin to make out some detail. It was human or had been at some point I was pretty sure. The body was badly damaged and portions of its limbs seemed to be missing. Its head hung down between its shoulders bobbling loosely as if its neck were broken. It dragged itself towards me, using its forearms to pull its ragged, useless legs along the gravely bottom of the pool. A strange trail of ichor floating behind the body marked its passing.

“Reach out to it Angel. Reach out with your mind, tell me what you feel, what you ‘see’.”

I shook my head not wanting to obey but unable to look away, drawn to it as much as it seemed to be drawn to me. Something was tugging at my mind, calling to me, crying piteously for my attention.

It halted a few feet in front of me. It was small, no larger than a child. Its skin was pale, bloated and bruised. It appeared that something or some things had been nibbling away at the areas exposed by its tattered clothing stripping away flesh exposing bone and muscle. I felt my bile rising as I stared at the small, wormlike remnants of fat still clinging to its flesh waiving gently in the current.

“Don’t you recognize him Angel?”

I bit my lip concentrating. Something nagged at my subconscious like a shiver running up my spine but my mind kept batting it away before I could grasp it. “I…don’t…” The head caught the currant, floating up so that I could now see what was left of its face. Waves of horror crashed though me I gasped out most of my air. “No, it’s not possible.”

“Of course it is.”

“It’s not real!”

“Isn’t it?”

“No! She would never let you.”

“Wouldn’t she? He’s just a little souvenir.”

“It’s a lie! It’s not real! Not real!” I began to panic kicking away at the hand on my ankle, my foot connecting with the soft flesh, digging into the skin tearing it away from the bone. “What did you do? What have you done?” I sobbed losing what precious little air I had left. Flesh and blood began to mix with the ichor clouding up the water but I could still see it through the gory chum. Still see those sad eyes begging me for help. Still see the single hand it had left loosely waving in the current back and forth in a cruel parody of that day in the theater. I squeezed my eyes shut but I could still see him.

Somewhere, far away I could hear Seras screaming my name begging Alucard to stop. My head was spinning I was close to blacking out.

“Turning our back again Angel? Still not going to save him?”

My eyes snapped open black fury replacing all fear. I let loose a torrent of rage at him hurling my anger and frustration back into his face. He laughed at me. Laughed! A stream of profanity spewed from my mind. Words I didn’t even know I knew. Words that were not even in English and that woman from the first night was there again in my head shrieking along beside me.

“There you are.” Sent Alucard thoughtfully. “I was wondering when you would show up. Perhaps we should...”

Something hard slammed into me. Rough cloth grated against my back as strong arms wrapped themselves about my waist tearing me away from those fingers, away from that thing and propelling me to the surface.

As we broke through, I was slammed by light and sound. Seras was still calling my name but I couldn’t see her or answer. I was shoved up against the side of the pool and I felt hands under my arm pits lifting me up out of the water. Seras was clinging to me sobbing my name over and over. I tried to tell her that I was OK but I couldn’t seem to breathe. Something landed beside me with a wet slap. I heard a muffled curse as I was torn from Seras’ grasp and thrown over a wet knee. Strong hands slammed down on my back driving that knee painfully into my diaphragm. Water spewed out of my lungs and, for the first time in far too long, air, sweet blessed air, was sucked in.

Another thump, a bit less rough this time, and more water spewed out. I took a deep shuttering breath to say thank you and promptly threw up more water. This process was repeated two or three more times before I could finally breathe without a corresponding purge. I was still coughing and sputtering though so I simply nodded my head to indicate that I required no further thumping the knee collapsed and my rescuer and I landed in a tangled heap on the ground.

I closed my eyes for a moment until the dizziness passed then turned to see whose lap I was sitting on and ended staring into the terrified eyes of Anderson. “What...” he whispered softly, “What the hell was that?”

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXXII

The pool was deeper and further across than I remembered. As I began to swim, my now unbound hair started to tangle itself under my arms. So much for the graceful exit I thought to myself as I reached over with my left hand to pull my hair out of my armpit. The errant strands obligingly responded by wrapping themselves about my wrist. It seemed to be getting longer. I angrily tugged my wrist free only to have my hair whip around and begin wrapping itself around my torso pinning my other arm to my side.

“Angel”

I growled with frustration trying to swim with one hand.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

I’m finished with you. I thought kicking my legs and trying to ignore the hair wrapping around my waist.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.” I thought back at him as I tried to pull away the hair which was now clamping down my thighs.

“You stupid girl, you think you’re being clever? You think you can just walk away?”

My hair was now down to my knees its weight began dragging me down.

“Do you know what happens to little fishes who turn their backs on the shark?”

I stopped struggling and allowed myself to sink hoping to push off the bottom and propel myself to the surface.

“This time Angel, I won’t just break your arm.”

My feet hit the gravelly bottom; I bent my knees to push off.

“This time, I’m going to break you.”

I pushed off shooting towards the surface only to be brought up short with a painful jerk.

“Got you little fish.”

I looked down to see what was holding me. A pale arm was thrusting out from the gravel its thin, bony fingers were wrapped about my ankle anchoring me to the bottom of the pool. I tried to pull my leg out but it only tightened its grip squeezing painfully. This was not good.

“Let go of me you sick bastard!”

His chuckle rolled over my mind like fly filled honey. “When you ask so sweetly what can I say but no. I have you where I want you Angel, why should I let go?”

“Let go!”

The hand squeezed still harder its purple black nails digging into my flesh.

“Never Angel, I will never let you go. Not until I am bored of you or you are dead. But I might let you out of the water. Just admit that you are nothing, that I am your master. Submit to my will and live”

“No!”

“As I see it you have three choices; Submit, die, or grow a pair of gills. Don’t you just love choices?”

“I am not a ghoul! You are not my master!” I sent kicking furiously at the arm.

“That just leaves you with two choices.”

I was rapidly running out of air so I forced my self to calm down and think.

“How are those gills coming Angelfish?”

“It’s not funny you know.”

“It’s hysterical from where I’m standing. Come on, you can do it Angel just split those oxygen molecules away from the hydrogen. “

Son of a…

“You know Angel, not everything down here is dead.”

I froze, pulse pounding in my ears. The lights seemed to have gone out along the back wall. I squinted into the darkness straining to see. A shiver ran down my spine as I felt, rather than saw something moving toward me from the far end of the pool.

And now back to our regular programming

And now back to our regular programming.

A RANT

And now, a brief time out from our regularly scheduled programming for a wild and unfounded accusation.

WHO DID IT?????!!!!!!!!

I KNOW IT WAS YOU!

A large portion of Corrine's diary has gone missing and a certain, so called, former Associate Professor Evil (like that was ever a real title). has recently been spotted skulking about the D.C. metro area, plotting with varied Sith lords and mooching food at asundry holiday parties.

I even heard he was filching goodies from his dear auntie's (the really cool aunt no less who buys him great gifts like socks and educational reading materials! [so I've heard, ahem]) Christmas stocking.

So now the next several entries have gone missing (along with my glasses, you little so and so) and we were just getting to some good bits with bloated dead bodies and blood and stuff! But no, someone went and took them didn't they? And now my several million concerned readers will not know what happens next and they will all cry! Plus, my notes were in there and I tell you what, that Corrine's handwriting is harder to read than Sanskrit and I CAN'T READ SANSKRIT! I swear it's like trying to translate clay cuneiform tablets.

I don't know what these things go for on the black market but could it really be worth the oceans of misery you have generate?

Huh?
Is it? Huh?

I just hope you are pleased with yourself.

And this had better not be some stupid attempt to join the ELE because I've seen several of the application videos and they all had far more evil plots than this and were set to music even. So there.

Unless....

Unless of course you were paid by the Hellsing organization to steal them in which case oh how tediously common criminal of you.

Well, either way, I know who your mother is and after she finishes laughing she will punish you severely. Take away you evil pop-tarts or something. And just see if you ever get anymore socks from me!

That is umm.... that is what I would say if I were your aunt (the real cool one)...if I were her, which of course, I , ahem , am not. Never met the woman...but I hear she is real cool so stop stealing her candy!

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXXI

We all turned to see Sir Integra stalking angrily towards us across the bridge. Walter stood at the control panel by the cave’s entrance his hand firmly on the power switch of Stewart’s poor abused stereo. He gave it a final disparaging glance before striding over to stand behind Sir Integra who had halted at the foot of the bridge to glare at us.

“Captain Burnadett,” she said coolly, “would you care to explain the meaning of this little gathering of yours?”

“Of course M’dame.” Said Burnadett slipping on his best alter boy expression and turning up the Gallic charm. “We were assisting Private. Zelig with his final technical run through before tomorrow night’s presentation.”

“Technical run through was it?”

“Oui M’dame.”

“Just testing the equipment.”

“Exactement.”

“I see.” She said, selecting a cigar from the case which had magically appeared in Walter’s hand. “This…music,” She paused, igniting her cigar with practiced ease from the lighter Walter now offered her, “and charming little dance demonstration,” she said waiving disparagingly in my direction, “are they also part of tomorrow nights presentation?”

“No. M’dame. We have finished with the testing. This is just a little informal gathering.”

“How cozy.” She said. I felt the weight of Walter’s stare and stepped back a bit from Sgt. Marks trying to casually hide the flask behind my back. Walter raised one eyebrow slightly, who was I trying to fool?

“And this testing of the equipment Captain, I assume it was successful?”

“Oui M’dame.” Burnadett replied suspiciously.

“No technical flaws?”

“As far as we are aware, no.”

“I am afraid Captain, that Walter and I have stumbled across a slight technical glitch in the system which we feel needs to be brought to your attention.?”

A puzzled frown crossed his face. “M’dame?”

“Yes, it seems this new antenna you have installed has somehow gotten hardwired into the main communication lines and is currently bleeding its signal into the intercom system.”

“…”

“And the telephone system.”

“…”

“Throughout the entire house as well as the barracks.”

“No.” said Zelig beginning to turn purple. “No, it’s not possible!”

“Any yet, I assure you it is happening.”

“But,” Said Stewart, “How?”

“You tell me.”

A soft chuckle at the edge of my hearing. A mild throbbing pain between my eyes. Alucard was approaching.

Stewart frowned, thinking. “The lines must be crossed somewhere but I assure you ma’am that the antenna was placed with the utmost care. I can’t understand how the radio signal could be bleeding into intercom, much less the phone lines.”

“No. It was not a bleed over from the radio we were receiving.” Said Walter firmly. “It was a direct feed from this room.”

I blanched as the ramifications of Walter’s statement sunk in. That would mean… “Um f-for how long?” I squeaked.

“Fifty two minutes.” He said. “As nearly every room on the estate was effected, it took us some little time to find you.”

“Oh dear.” I whispered.

“Oh dear is correct Ms. Doyle!” Snapped Sir Integra. “For the last hour you have been serenading not only Walter and myself but the entire staff! We are trying to close out the quarterly budget and are forced to endure your caterwauling about draft dodging cross dressers and large reptiles consuming major Japanese ports!”

“Really Angel, it’s enough to wake the dead.” Quipped Alucard emerging from the shadows.

Sir Integra spared him an annoyed glance. He grinned and tipped his hat to her. She turned away with a derisive snort. He winked at me then settled back against a stone pillar. A sneaking suspicion began tugging at the back of my brain.

“Ms. Doyle!” Barked Sir Integra snapping back my attention.

“Yes? what? Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes, that is to say I hope my singing wasn’t too disruptive to the staff.” Alucard looked far to pleased for my liking.

“It most certainly was.”

“Well, they enjoyed the Pat Benatar but felt that you’re Janis Joplin was a bit overreaching” Sent Alucard.

“Hey! I nailed that!” I accidentally shouted back to him out loud. Oops.

“Ms. Doyle, are you drunk?” Asked Sir Integra.

“What? No, of course not!” I said fervently wishing for a better place to hide Sgt. Marks’ flask than behind my back. My head began buzzing.

I glared at Alucard who was leaning up against the pillar smiling serenely up at the roof of the cave.

“You set me up.”

He shrugged.

“You...”

“Sir Integra please, I assure you.” Began Burnadett.

“No Captain, this will not do. I know you allow discipline to be quite lax within your squad and I have turned a blind eye to certain, incidents off of the estate but this is my house! My home and I will not have it turned into a discotheque!

And you, Ms. Doyle!” She said turning back to me. “This is not the first time that you have caused a disruption. I know you may feel you are on vacation but this is a working estate with a serious mission not, may I remind you, a resort hotel. You will cease interfering with my staff!”

Unfortunately, hard liquor makes me both stupid and brave.

“Vacation?” I gasped “You think I think I am on vacation?!” I had to fight to contain the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up inside me. “Let me assure you ‘Sir’ Integra, I suffer no illusion that I am on vacation. As to this not being a resort hotel? That is a fact of which I am painfully aware and fortunate too as other wise I would have to register a serious complaint about the masseuse!”

I calmly handed Sgt. Marks back his flask then, never breaking eye contact with Sir Integra, untied my robe and shrugged it to the floor. “Now, if you will excuse me.” With a final glare at her, Walter and especially Alucard, I turned on my heel and casually strolled over to the pool ignoring the muttered curses and gasps of the others as I passed and dove in.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXX

I Dragged Seras off of her rock perch, brownie and all, and installed us both on one of the benches by the pool so I could fix my hair. Seras obligingly began digging through the bag and pulling out supplies. She took the brush from my hand and began gently running it through my hair.

“I like your hair,” she said, “it’s so much softer than mine and such a pretty color.”

“It’s brown.” I said.

“No, it’s lovely.”

“You know you’re the 4^th person today to complement my hair or try and yank it out of my head. It must be the new conditioner.”

“Or the paste Andrew smeared all over it.” Seras giggled.

A strange electronic hum cut through the night music followed by brief static then an odd, discordant chorus of sounds like someone rapidly changing stations on a car stereo. There was another hum and a pop then a small cheer arose as the thumping strains of rock music (Meatloaf actually) began to roll through the cave.

“Sounds like Stewart and Zelig got the receiver hooked up to the antenna.” Said Seras.

“Outstanding!” I said moving in time to the music.

“Hold still!” She commanded. I closed my eyes and submitted humbly to her ministrations humming along with the song.

The pool and the wine had relaxed me quite a bit. The music and Sera’s rhythmic brushing of my hair further lulled me into a very pleasant stupor so I am not really sure when it was I stopped humming and started to sing. I just know that when the song “Arms of an Angel” came on a sweet, yet sad feeling washed through me and began to build and I just had to sing along. “Spend all your time waiting for that second chance. For a break that would make it OK” I felt the music, like a living thing, flowing through me and around me, spiraling and dancing its way though the cave. “There’s always one reason to feel not good enough and it’s hard at the end of the day.”

I did not need to open my eyes to see the others. I could feel them, feel there emotions, sense them listening to the song, listening to me. “I need some distraction. Oh beautiful release. Memory seeps from my veins.” I wanted them to feel what I felt in the music. Experience this living creature, this lovely, aching, yearning, fragile phoenix that was this song. “Let me be empty and weightless and maybe I’ll find some peace tonight.”

I wanted to share this beauty with them so much. The need to show them what I felt was overwhelming. The emotions were bursting from me, out of my control, flowing through the cave. “In the arms of an angel, fly away from here….”

I opened my eyes as the song ended, brushing away a few tears. No one moved. They were all staring at me somewhat astonished. I did not have time to get embarrassed. The next song started “We Belong”, still sentimental but more upbeat. Without thinking I slid into the music and started to sing along.

Four songs later, “Psycho Killer”, everyone was singing along and the party was really getting started. This is a fantastic station, I was thinking to myself. Lots of great dance music and so many female artists to sing along with.

Seras and I, being the only girls there, ended dancing well, with everyone just about. As each song ended I kept thinking, surely, this is it, they have to take a commercial break but then anther great song would come on and we would all start belting out the lyrics our voices rolling and echoing throughout the cave. I found the combination of music and friends intoxicating. I hoped it would never end.

As the last strains of “Love Shack” played out, I found myself near Sgt. Marks who was leaning casually against one of the stone “trees”.

“Good evening miss Doyle.” He said pleasantly.

“Guten abend Herr Marks”

He chuckled. “I did not think you spoke German.”

“I know about 5 words.”

“We shall have to teach you more. There are many useful words I could teach you.”

“I’ll bet there are.”

“In fact, a few come to mind as we speak.”

“Oh yes?”

He leaned in closer, a devilish expression on his face. “Would you like me to tell you what the are?”

“Hmmm, let me think about it.” I said casually but was beginning to blush. Is Sgt. Marks flirting with me? Oh no, am I flirting back? I asked myself. It was hard to tell as I was not using my usual method of flirting which consisted of running in confusion and terror from the man in question.

“I assure you, I am an excellent teacher.”

I’ll just bet you are. I thought blushing still more, turning into a brunette tomato. I had made the mistake of looking into his eyes which were a light twinkly blue, brimming over with humor and something else perhaps a bit warmer. Oh my! I thought, gazing up at his rough handsome face with its strong jaw and boyish smile and that little scar just below his lip that one could just reach up and…Oh my!

I pulled my hands behind my back to curtail the urge and tore my eyes from his face and ended up staring at his broad shoulders and chest. Sigh. He was wearing his uniform sleeves neatly rolled above his elbows revealing his firm biceps and large, well formed forearms which were lightly covered with golden hairs which would probably feel very nice if one were to…Oh my! Oh no!

What’s going on?! Damn you Alucard! Puberty was bad enough the first time without all my middle aged body issues to pile on top of it.

I looked back up at Marks’ face and my knees went weak. He was so good looking. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to hit him and run away screaming before he could say something cruel or laugh at me for being so stupid in thinking that he might like me ‘that way’.

Ah, now at least, I was back in familiar territory.

I took a deep breath and met his warm gaze. Something of my emotions must have shown in my face because there was just a hint of concern in his eyes.

Don’t you ruin this for me! I silently screamed at me issues. You have been in control of my life long enough. Now, get in there Corrine and say something coherent, preferably charming, to deflect this train of thought before you blow it!

“Do you dance sergeant Marks?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Do I dance?”

Smile you stupid girl! I smiled up at him. “Yes.”

“Yes, I dance.”

Flirt with him darn you. You flirt with him right now! “I just noticed that you haven’t been dancing.” Little smile. Tilt head a bit. “Do you like to dance?”

“I’d like to dance with you.”

Bingo! “So, why haven’t you asked me to dance?” Casually examine hands then sly look back at him. Yes! This may actually be working. Shhh, steady now girl.

“Well, your dance card has been quite full. Someone else was always dancing with you.”

Don’t you dare, giggle. 40 year old women don’t giggle!

“You could have pulled rank. Captain Burnadett has done it at least 4 times with Seras and me.”

“Perhaps I was biding my time.”

“Perhaps.”

“Waiting for the right song.”

“Oh yes?”

“A much slower song.”

Oh. Oh my! “Well I’m not dancing with anyone right now…” We cocked our heads to take in the “tune” currently rolling through the cave. It was Klaus Nomi’s cover of “You Don’t Own Me”. “Well, it’s slower anyway.” I said skeptically.

“Definitely not the right song.” We said at the same time and laughed.

He pulled out his flask and offered it to me. “Care to try some for non-medicinal purposes?”

“Are you sure you trust me with it?”

“Just don’t pour it on anybody OK?”

“Just in here.” I promised tilting it to my lips. I took a sip, smiled at him then took a good long pull. “Wow, good. Slivovitz yes?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“You were expecting coughing and sputtering perhaps?”

“I find myself liking you more and more.” Another song started playing. “Ah, now this is more the thing.” He said. “Shall we?” He took my free hand and led me to the open area just in front of the pool that we had been using as a dance floor as Marc Anthony began to sing.

“They say around the way you’ve asked for me…”

Marks stepped in close and placed a hand on the small of my back.

Ooops. Real dancing. “I ah, don’t really know how to … um…Samba?” I guessed.

“There’s even talk about you wanting me...”

He chuckled and took the flask from my hand.

“Meringa?”

“I must admit that’s what I want to hear…”

“Don’t worry,” he said pulling me closer “I’m an excellent teacher”

‘I’ll just bet you are’ I thought as he guided me into the first few steps of the dance.

“But that’s just talk until you take me there…”

“Have another drink.” He said after I stepped on his foot for the 3^rd time.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I need to know. I need to know…”

“If I said yes, would you become very indignant?”

“No, but is it wise to try and make me even less coordinated at the moment?”

“We in the Geese do not flinch at danger. Besides, I am wearing boots and you are wearing, very little so, yes.” He said looking teasingly roguish.

“Tell me baby girl cause I need to know...”

He stepped into the turn and dipped me then pulled me up and whispered softly into my ear. “Now, about those cookies for tomorrow night…I’m partial to peanut butter.”

I dissolved into laughter.

“Girl I’m exactly where I want to...” WHAM! The music was very decisively cut off.

LETTERS TO HELLSING XXIX

“All right, yes, here.” Zelig said positioning me inside the entrance and waiving the others back a bit. “Now, quiet all of you! Are you ready?” He whispered to me.

“Yes. This is very exciting!” I whispered back.

He smiled and squeezed my hand then reached out to touch something hidden in the wall.

Nothing happened for a moment then, just audible over the sounds of the waterfall, came the soft strains of a harp. I held my breath trying to better hear the quiet melody. As I listened, the song grew louder and more complex as other instruments were woven in. I realized that I was beginning to distinguish shapes in the darkness. A flute joined in the song, trilling like a bird. Slowly, slowly the lights began to come up like the dawning of a new day. Shafts of light came down from the ceiling, sparkling off of the waterfalls and the crystal rock formations creating a dappled carpet on the floor of the cave.

The effect was stunning.

I realized I was still holding my breath. I expelled it the whispered, “Oh Zelig, it’s just lovely.”

I heard several affirmative sounds behind me.

Zelig smiled distantly, his eyes slightly feverish. “Wait,” he breathed “wait.” He reached out again and the “sun” began to set.

The music merged into night sounds and I found myself transported from my dappled little grove to a magical forest. The waterfall no longer flowed merrily but instead seemed to dance. The crystal formations no longer sparkled but burned softly with an inner fire. The pillar “trees” seemed to move and sway on some enchanted breeze. The marble glowed in the diffuse “moonlight” and the pool seemed to reflect starlight from above. It was one of the most magnificent things I had ever seen. It was truly magical.

I could not speak. I could only sigh with pleasure. It was so beautiful.

“Well?” He whispered.

I squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back, my expression conveying my opinion more eloquently than words ever could. He squeezed my hand again and smiled up at me. We stood there for a moment just marveling at his genius.

Eventually, there was a small strangled sound of despair as Stewart spotted the mangled ruins of his stereo on the work bench by the entrance. The spell was broken and everyone crowded around to congratulate Zelig. He gave my hand a final squeeze before we were forcibly separated by the friendly punches and rough back slaps of his comrades.

I wandered over to Stewart who was sifting sadly though the remains of his stereo only slightly mollified by the brownie Zelig had given him in way of apology.

“I don’t suppose you would let me buy you a new one?” I asked.

“Why, you didn’t destroy it?”

“Yes but I gave it to Zelig which, apparently, made its destruction a foregone conclusion.”

“I could have refused. Should have done but, to be honest, I kind of wanted to see what he would do. The man is insane but he is quite talented.”

“I don’t know about ‘insane’.”

“Take my word for it.”

“Come now.”

“Totally off his nut.”

I laughed and looked over at a beaming Zelig who stood accepting his due praise whilst doling out brownies like a benevolent dictator.

“What did Zelig do before he joined the squad?”

“Landscape architect.”

“In Algeria?”

“No, France. His mother was Algerian, his father is French. Zelig worked for his father’s company until artistic differences drove them apart.”

“Artistic differences?”

“Yes, his father felt that customer satisfaction was the cornerstone to good business.”

“And Zelig?”

“Zelig felt that if the customers even considered replanting one of his garden beds it was grounds for blowing up their car.”

“What!”

“Or house.”

“You’re joking of course.”

“I’m afraid I’m not. He’s the terrorist version of Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“But.”

“Corrine, we’re all damaged goods here in the Geese one way or another. We all had our own reasons for joining. Some of us are addicted to the danger, some are running from their past, others are just mean son’s of bitches but some of us,” he sighed and gestured to Zelig “some of us simply can not function in the main stream and have nowhere else to go.”

“Poor Zelig.” I sighed.

Stewart laughed. “I tell you a man is crazy and blows things up and you feel sorry for him?”

“Was anyone hurt in the explosions?”

“Well, no.”

“Then yes.”

“There’s your problem. You like people too much.”

“What’s wrong with liking people?”

“Nothing but liking the wrong people can be dangerous.”

“Like Zelig.”

“No, Zelig’s fine as long as he stays with us. Besides, you liked his work. You could shoot him in the foot now and he would still adore you.”

“Like you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Really?”

“No, but a certain girlfriend could prove to be hazardous.”

“Seras is my friend.” I snapped.

“I know, I like her too but is it truly wise to befriend a vampire?”

“Seras, is, my, friend.” I said angrily. Poking him in the chest to emphasize my point.

“Steady love, were just talkin.”

A large hand came down on my shoulder. “Excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?” Asked Marks.

“No. He’s warning me off dangerous men.”

“Very wise. Was my name mentioned?”

“You were next on the list.” Quipped Stewart. “Right after…Oh, hello Zelig.”

“Stewart…Marks.” Zelig said nodding regally to them. “Corrine!” He beamed. “There you are.” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “I have to ask you something.” He took my hand and attempted to draw me away but Marks’ hand on my shoulder did not budge. He narrowed his eyes at Marks who gave him a slight smile.

Zelig sighed dramatically, leaned in close and whispered, “Do you have any more brownies?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh.” He said disappointed “Are you sure?”

“Afraid so.”

He sighed. “I didn’t get any.”

“But Zelig, I gave you the whole tray.”

“Yes but I was sharing them out with the fellows. Then there was only this nice big corner piece left and then that girl…” He said balefully.

“Her name is Seras.”

“That Seras, snatched it right out of my hand saying they was hers and wouldn’t give it back.”

“Oh Seras.” I sighed glancing over at her. She was sitting on a rock clutching the tray containing the last brownie and glaring defiantly in our direction. Most of the others had left her alone opting instead to go through the bag of snacks in search of easier prey. Except for corp. Sherman who could not seem to resist trying to sneak up behind her and snatch the last brownie. She backhanded him away without even looking. He landed on the ground with a thump laughing uproariously. Seras gripped the try even more tightly and continued to glare in our direction.

Zelig glared back petulantly at her. “Not even one.” He groused.

I sighed again turning to Stewart. “I don’t suppose?”

Zelig looked at him hopefully.

“Sorry no.” He said stuffing the rest of his brownie into his mouth.

Zelig huffed as Stewart waived a piece of broken stereo at him.

“I’m sorry Zelig.” I said. “But I actually did make them for Seras. But I promise to make lots more for you tomorrow night if you’d like for when you show Sir Integra and the rest of the staff your lovely work.”

“And they’d be for me?”

“Yes.”

“Extra walnuts?”

“Sure.”

“I want more of the cream cheese ones like you made last week.” Said Stewart.

“I wanted walnuts.”

“She can make both can’t she?”

The two of them looked at me expectantly.

“All right.”

“How about those blondie things? What were they called Marks?” Asked Zelig.

“Blondies.”

“Yes, some of those too.”

“Wait…”

“Yes some of those!” shouted Seras. “And the fudgie chippy ones as well.” Damn her and her uncanny hearing.

“Now hold on. I can’t…Oh Zelig you’re bleeding!”

Zelig glanced down at his arm. “It’s nothing.” He said.

“But you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. Now, about cookies…”

“Honestly it’s like dealing with a bunch of 4 year olds!” I muttered under my breath dragging Zelig over to the workbench where the light was better.

“Welcome to my world.” Said Marks.

“I don’t suppose you installed a first aid kit down here?”

Zelig sniffed disdainfully. “This is art, not some poncy municipal pool facility.”

The former lifeguard in me brindled but I remained calm. I removed the towel from my head and gently dabbed at the wound with a corner. “Hmmm, not too bad.” I said. I looked around. I had almost everything I needed. “I need alcohol, preferably hard liquor.”

“Excellent idea.” Said Marks pulling out a flask. “But perhaps you should wait till you’re finished with Rührkuchen here.”

“Tot umfallen kraut!” Growled Zelig.

“What is this, kindergarten at the Tower of Babel?” I said snatching the flask from Marks. I sniffed it’s contents.

“This will do. OK now Zelig, hold still.”

“Why?” Asked Zelig.

“No, wait!” said Marks.

I grinned evilly and tipped a liberal portion of the flask’s contents onto Zelig’s forearm.

Both men flinched.

“Damn, that burns. What the hell is it?”

“Damned expensive is what it is!” Growled Marks.

“Well, if you had a first aid kit down here,” I said sweetly “I wouldn’t need to use this.”

“You could have let him bleed.”

“I most certainly could not!” I said, gently cleaning the grease and dirt from around the cut with another corner of my towel.

“Anderson should be doing this.” Grumped Marks. “It’s what we bloody pay him to do. Where the hell is he anyway?”

Stewart chuckled. “He took off as soon as he heard her singing."

“Well he’s still on call and he can bloody well get back here and slap a plaster on Herr Artist here!”

“That’s OK. I like the way she does it better.” Said Zelig as I fussed with his arm.

“Does it still sting?” I asked.

“A little.”

I blew gently on his arm to cool the burn.

“I think I’m in love.” Said Zelig.

“Damn it Anderson. Get your ass in here right now!” Shouted Marks.

Stewart laughed. “Corrine, you have to stop.”

“What? My mom used to do that.”

“Mind you own business.” Snapped Zelig. “So did mine.” He said patting my arm.

“I’m almost done.” I said. Reaching for the super glue.

“What’s that for?” Zelig asked suspiciously.

“Hopefully to glue your mouth shut.” Said Marks.

I smiled and shook my head then bent over and glued the wound shut.

“Your mother never did that.” Said Stewart.

“I like it!” Said Zelig poking at his arm.

“Pretty clever.” Said Marks. "Now give me back my flask. And just where the deuce have you been?” he said to Anderson who had come up behind me.

“Did you see what she did Anderson?” Said Zelig, grinning and flexing his arm. “She glued me back together she did! You should try it.” He said tossing him the tube.

Anderson caught it and stared at Zelig his eyes flashing but his face carefully neutral. “How very useful.” He said without inflection.

“You could have done it yourself if you’d been here instead of skulking about.” Snapped Marks. “She shouldn’t have to do your job.” Anderson flinched a little at Marks’ tone but said nothing. He just stared down angrily at the tube in his hand.

I suddenly remembered that Anderson did not like me and this was not helping. “It was just a little cut.” I said quickly. “Mom stuff really. No big deal.”

He weighed the tube in the palm of his hand. “For little cuts yes?” He said quietly in that dead voice.

“Um, yes?”

“Not so good for ripped off limbs then?” He said bitterly, squeezing the tube.

“Well, no.”

“Perhaps I could use it on ghoul bites instead?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with rage.

I choked and shook my head.

“No? Pity that.” He said, glaring at me.

I stumbled back a bit, shocked by his hostility. He seemed so full of anger and pain that I was not sure how to react. Resentment, compassion and a little bit of fear warred inside of me, my usual instinct to apologize and placate stumbling against the fact that, to the best of my knowledge, I had done absolutely nothing wrong. “I…I didn’t….” I took a deep breath and clutched my fisted hands against my stomach to hide their trembling. Don’t you dare cry Corrine! I thought and looked him in the eye. “Why?” I asked.

“What the hell are you playing at Anderson?!” Said Zelig, stepping between us and bowing his chest. Stewart looked more puzzled than angry.

Anderson dropped his head staring down at his hands, his jaw clenching and unclenching his lips quirking. He looked up at me his eyes full of pain and confusion. His lips moved but no words came out.

“That’s enough.” Said Marks quietly but firmly. “Anderson, go see the captain about pulling a first aid kit from stores for down here.”

Anderson’s face went blank. He turned mechanically and left without a sound.

“Zelig, you and Stewart clean up that mess on the work bench.”

“But.” Said Stewart.

“Now.” Said Marks.

Stewart shrugged and went to help Zelig.

“You," He said chucking me under the chin, “go brush your hair.’

I absently ran a hand through the tangled mass but said nothing. Marks turned his gaze to follow my confused one over to Anderson. He shook his head. “He needs to figure out how to deal with this before it’s too late.”

I looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I seem to upset him greatly.” I said miserably.

Marks smiled sadly. “It’s not just you. It’s this place.” He said. “It’s like a hell for him. It’s driving him mad but he won’t leave. He won’t leave the men without a medic and who in his right mind would take the job?”

I looked back at Anderson. Slow, horrifying comprehension dawning on me.

Hard enough to be a combat medic but to be a medic for a combat team which battled the undead? To have to watch your team get blown apart and ripped open. To have to decide at a moments notice whether to tend a wound or to administer the only mercy available to a friend or civilian with a ghoul bite, a bullet in the head. And if you make a mistake, you might be murdering an innocent or worse yet, spare them only to watch them rise up to kill and eat your men.

My mind wandered back to the theater. To the way he had looked at me. The way his hand kept moving to his holster. He had decided to shoot me but Alucard had not allowed it. I shivered with terror. He would have killed me, shot me in the head then and there but instead, here I was, standing in front to him alive and healthy and a constant reminder of all of those deaths and of how far from being a healer he had strayed.

“He knows that we don’t resent it.” Said Marks. “That any of us would rather take a bullet in the head than turn but knowing that is still a cold comfort when you’re the one who has to pull the trigger.”

“Oh, poor Anderson.” I whispered. “How can he bear it?”

“He bears it because he has to. We all do.” He turned back to me. “Now don’t cry on me liebste.” He said, noticing my tears. “A river of tears couldn’t save the damned souls in this room.”

“I’m not crying, I’m leaking.” I said blotting my eyes on my sleeve. “I do that sometimes. Ask the captain.”

“Hmm.” He said handing me a tissue. “As you say. Now go see to that pet demon of yours before she breaks one of my men.”

I squeezed his arm and smiled at him. “Thank you, you’re very kind.”

“Slander and lies girl! I like you better when you are being mean. Now go away before you destroy my reputation.”

“Sir! Yes sir!” I barked throwing him a mock salute then scurrying away quickly before he could swat me.