Captive Audience

DISCLAIMERS: "Hellsing" and all characters created/owned by Kouta Hirano. I'm not making any money from this, just having fun with my twisted fantasies.

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The sun is setting, its dying light caught and reflected in the round spectacles of the seated man. A toothy grin crawls across the vampire's face and he rests one hand on the priest's shoulder.

"Git yer God damned hand offa me, ya freak!"

"Tch, what would the children say, Father Anderson?" Alucard chides in his typical mocking tone.

"Amen," comes the curt reply, turning the curse into a heartfelt prayer.

A throaty chuckle escapes the vampire. "Face it, Anderson. You've been abandoned. Maxwell's left you to rot." Leaning in close, Alucard murmurs into the priest's ear, "The betrayer has been betrayed."

"Filthy monster!" Anderson roars, springing to his feet and shoving Alucard with all his strength. The vampire crashes into the wall and the priest follows through, pinning Alucard by the throat with a forearm. Alucard's mocking smile brings a snarl to Anderson's lips. "Ye're no' worthy tae speak 'is name!"

"His name? Who? Enrico Maxwell? God?" Alucard taunts, making a token effort at struggling. Perhaps that, more than his blasphemous attitude, enrages the priest even more. They both know that Alucard could simply dematerialize and make good his escape or even overpower Anderson. The false struggle is merely another way for the vampire to tease his favourite enemy.

"Bastard!" Anderson spits out, leaning his full weight against the vampire. Dust sifts down from the rafters of their temporary shelter. Outside, the hellish glow of a burning city has replaced the last light of the sun. It is a match for the vampire's red eyes and gilds Anderson's hair with blood. Nose to nose, man and monster, they each stare into the pits of Hell in the other's eyes.

It was just the opening Alucard was waiting for. Snaking his long arms about Anderson, he pulls the priest into a crushing embrace. One gloved hand fists in the priest's short hair, holding his head still for the plundering kiss that follows. A choked noise is all Anderson manages as the vampire's tongue invades his mouth, sinuous and cold as a snake trying to slither down his gullet.

Now it's the priest's turn to struggle. Panic overwhelms training for a moment and he tries to use brute strength to break Alucard's hold. All he can see are those gleaming crimson eyes. His own heartbeat thunders in his ears. He can't breathe with the vampire's mouth sealed over his. Blackness creeps in at the edges of his vision.

But worse than his current predicament is the answering curl of heat low in his belly. How delicate is the line between love and hate? Something shatters inside the priest. Where he was fighting to escape in one instant, the next finds him leaning into his mortal enemy, almost sagging against that cold, dead body. And the vampire holds him, tenderly, like a long lost lover finally returned to his lifeless arms.

The punishing kiss softens. Tentatively, the Judas priest responds to Alucard. His own effort is unschooled, but the hesitant, exploratory reply brings a deep sense of satisfaction to the vampire. Anderson's defenses are crumbling, but it's not quite time to storm the keep. A rumbling sound of approval rises from the depths of Alucard's throat, bringing Anderson back to his senses. The priest's gaze sharpens to an edge that would make his blessed bayonets seem like butter knives.

Jerking his head back, the priest spits in Alucard's face. "Whit dae ye think ye're dooin?!" Growling, Anderson tries again to free himself. Yet his efforts now don't seem quite as enthusiastic as they were before.

"Aren't you tired of being the Vatican's lapdog?"

"Ah am a man o' God!"

"Are you so sure about that?" Alucard's voice drops into a liquid purr. He arches against Anderson like a cat. "For a man of God, you seem to be enjoying this just a bit too much," the vampire points out.

"Bastard!" Anderson hisses.

"You already said that. Try something new." The edge of mocking laughter flirts with Alucard's words. Leaning his head forward, his unnaturaly long tongue flickers out to tease at Anderson's ear. "I'm listening," Alucard whispers. "After all, I am your captive audience."