Note: This is based on the anime, not the manga, so some elements may be inconsistent with the manga. I of course welcome feedback. I'd apologize for the pairing but... I've grown to love it.

Disclaimer: Hellsing is owned by Kohta Hirano, Pioneer Entertainment and others, not by me. No copyright infringement intended or implied.

~Eternal Rose~

Sometimes I can hardly bear to look at her now. I am too old to feel this rushing in the blood, for my heart to be touched. I cannot allow myself that weakness. But I am only human.

I remember when I first saw her, young and fresh and on her way to eternity. She was trying to be brave, facing days in hiding and nights in a coffin. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all somehow come right, but I thought that was Alucard's job. I should have known better.

Anyone could see her form is beautiful, but I don't know when I first noticed the little things: those gorgeous scarlet eyes set in the ivory skin, the gentle smile, the self-assured walk. And her strength... to go from policewoman to undead in the turn of a moment, and still want to learn and serve.

I know what she is. When she fought by my side against the Valentine brother's ghouls, I saw the bloodlust in her eyes, saw how she almost lost control. She wanted to destroy those ghouls and perhaps make a few of her own. But it was me, my voice, that was able to call her back. I will never forget that.

And she trusts me. I remember the confused look in her eyes when Bubbancy controlled my mind and I came after Seras with wires. She didn't want to hurt me even then.

Still, she is my ancient enemy and I must try to remember that. Like Alucard, her only need now is to kill, though she still refuses to take living blood.

I wonder often what she thinks about. Does she miss the days of being just another young police officer? Did she leave behind a young gentleman who would have faced her fate with horror? I know she keeps a picture of her father, does she think of him at all now? She must. I know she cried when Ferguson died.

Yes, I believe she has feelings. Perhaps when she is a true no-life king and I am long dust, she will be as soulless as Alucard. But I do not believe she has forgotten all her humanity yet.

Alucard has offered me immortality countless times, and I have refused. I do not think I would take it even for her. But I do not question her choice, I have never lain on the church floor with a hole in my lung, the seconds ticking away.

I am used to concealing my feelings. I am the loyal retainer, the silent servant, the angel of death. I watched Integra's mother and father die and Integra be attacked countless times, all as impassively as I could. So now I stand by, pretending I feel nothing for this young woman. It has become easy.

What indeed would she say if she knew? She would be kind, probably, gentleness to a dotty old man. I don't think I could bear that, having her condescend to my foolishness. And it is ridiculous. What could I do, even if I were her age again? Take her out to dinner and dancing, when she doesn't eat and could easily tear me in two? I laugh through the pain.

And what would Alucard say? A laugh, probably, at the incomprehensibility of human emotion, and a warning not to touch one who carries his blood. Not that I even consider that, even late at night when I am lonely again and dreaming.

I go to her room now, to bring her a bag of blood. I try to go when she is asleep, but I am late tonight, and she sees me. She smiles, not Alucard's feral grin but a genuine warm look that shows her dainty fangs.

"Walter, thank you so much."

She never admits that she is thirsty. And I never admit that I would offer her my own neck if that were what she needed.

I cannot afford to look at her too much so I busy myself at the table. She talks on for a bit, about the new troops and target practice. I answer lightly. If I can banter with the fearsome Alucard, surely I can handle this young female. But it is difficult.

Finally I get up to leave and I have to turn to face her again. She is still smiling, still beautiful. I bid her goodbye and leave without visible reluctance, though I am wishing that I could stay, ask her what is inside her mind.

I tell myself again that she is a monster. It doesn't help.