Midian Evolution

A.N. Thank you, readers and reviewers.


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“Seras, a moment,” Sir Integra said, catching me as I passed her door.

“Yes, Sir Integra?” I asked, coming inside.

“I’m moving your room,” she said, taking up her teacup. She sounded tense. Her heart beat heavily, but slowly. “I think you should live closer to your master, don’t you?”

When I fully met her eyes, I saw what she wanted. She thought I influenced master in some way, and hoped my presence would do…something.

I burned to know what they’d discussed in here for an hour.

“I’ll go wherever you want me to go,” I told her, silently agreeing to take on the monumental task of helping Alucard. I wanted to help, so I didn’t feel put-upon. “Isn’t the room beside his just a storage area?”

“Not anymore,” she shot back. “I had a team go down and clean it while you were gone. I personally moved your belongings, with the exception of furniture and coffin.”

“Sir, you didn’t have to do that.” I felt embarrassed, now. Alucard had left my room a mess. She probably thought me a slob.

“I didn’t want your privacy invaded. You and Alucard have little enough of that.” Integra gave me a little hand wave of dismissal. “I’ve meant to move you for a while now. Go and get some rest.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, bowing briefly before exiting.

A new room.

I stood in the doorway, looking at the difference between it and my old one. For one, it wasn’t nearly as large. I liked that. It looked cozy. I had a bed as well as the coffin, too, which I appreciated. I saw a box on my pillow, wrapped in scarlet ribbon.

A present!

Like a child, I eagerly snatched it up and held it to my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a gift. It thrilled me just to hold it. I might not even open it immediately. I might wait, drawing pleasure from wondering what it was and who gave it to me.

Carefully, I placed the box on my nightstand.

I noticed I had three doors in this room. One would access the hallway; the other I knew led to Alucard’s chamber. What was the other?

I opened it. A gasp escaped me.

Integra had given me a bathroom with a huge, sunken bathtub. It sat directly in the center of the room. I had candelabras, bath supplies, and white towels. All my funky hair dye lined a mirrored cabinet. Several boxes of incense and a pack of matches sat upon a vanity table.

I felt tears starting, and wiped them away. How had she known I wanted this? I’d always dreamed of a private, luxurious place to bathe. My old apartment only had a cramped shower. The orphanage had rows of shower heads in a wall, forcing all of us girls to bathe in front of each other. I’d hated it. I’d even resented the public bathroom in the hall outside my old room.

I didn’t have to endure any longer.

I stroked the gleaming chrome, felt the cold satin of the luminous porcelain. I tested the towels for fluff-factor, smelled my incense, and generally flitted around like a bumblebee in a flower garden. I could live in here.

I feel your joy. My master’s mental voice eased into my head.

Did you see what Sir Integra gave me? I did a little twirl of happiness.

…no. Now, he sounded cautious.

Oh, master, she gave me my own bathroom!

I heard silence. Then, he chuckled. This really pleases you.

A few seconds later, he phased through my bathroom door. “You made me curious,” he confessed, looking around slowly. “This is what has you leaking joy through my mental walls? A stew-pot and some frills?” His eyes reflected all the doubt and bemusement in the world.

I couldn’t expect him to appreciate the glory of my bathroom, not with his handicap of inhumanity. Because I’d not really anticipated that understanding, it didn’t dampen my joy. I decided to teach him something for a change, switch our roles.

“Master, I’m a girl,” I said. “An obvious point, but females like this sort of thing.” I lowered myself in the dry tub, folded my arms behind my head and grinned up at him. “Picture it. You’re tired, cold or needing comfort. You fill this with nice, hot water, get in and relax.”

Now that I looked up at him instead of my surroundings, I noticed Alucard wore something completely different from his usual clothing; solid leather from head to foot, form-fitting, and covered in straps and buckles. It looked graveside-elegant, creepy-attractive. He might have been an escapee from an institution, for the side straps appeared uncomfortably close to a straightjacket configuration.

“Master, what are you wearing?” I asked quietly, my voice echoing a bit in the tub.

“A costume for the benefit of Sir Integra.” Alucard sat at my vanity table and looked at his reflection. “She seems to like me as a slave.” The distance in his voice, the faraway look in his eyes, combined into a disturbing mien of sadness.

I could have slapped myself for not seeing it sooner. He did like Sir Integra, but as a guardian figure, mostly. He’d helped Walter raise her, in some ways. Now, he believed the only reason she tolerated him, was the idea she utterly controlled him. This costume meant something between the two of them, something he felt appropriate to his perceived status.

I climbed from the porcelain prison and stood behind him. “Are you certain she likes you as a slave?” I asked, reaching around him for the brush. I really, really wanted to know what he and Integra had discussed without me and Walter in the room.

“Fairly certain. I make her uncomfortable now that she knows I stay of my own free will.” Alucard’s eyes tracked my hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to brush your hair, if you’ll let me,” I answered. It perhaps would prove too human of a pleasure for him, but I could try. “Did Walter give you your blood ration?”

“Yes.” He watched me in the mirror, eyes intent and inquisitive. “Why brush my hair? You know I can do anything with it. It’s part of my mutable form.”

“I guess it’s a girly thing, too, master,” I said. “Plus, I used to love doing this for people. Hair just feels good.” Also, in my experience, most people enjoyed having someone brush their hair.

If they did it right.

“Please, master?” I asked. “It would make me happy.” And, it was a very, very small way to show I cared. He liked it when I touched him.

“Happier than you are to get this odd washroom?” He rolled his eyes. “Go ahead. My patience may run out in a few minutes; this is a useless exercise to me.”

“Master, don’t be like that,” I said, taking up a few skeins of his hair at the bottom. “What else have you got to do? The sun’s coming up in about an hour.” God, it felt like I held spun silk in my hands.

“I can think of many ways to fill in an hour,” he murmured in a mysterious tone, but he made no move to make me quit.

“What were bathrooms like in your day, then, master?” I asked. If he wouldn’t discuss his conversation with Integra, I’d get his mind off it for a moment.

“No such thing. Servants brought a tub into your private rooms, filled it with hot water from the kitchen. When you finished, or when your servant finished washing you, other people carried the water and tub away.” He still watched me, but his eyes seemed softer than when I started working.

I didn’t like the idea of someone bathing him. It seemed really invasive.

“Too, people took advantage of natural bodies of water,” he continued, his eyelids drooping, as I moved to fully scraping his scalp with the hard bristle brush. “Not everyone had servants.”

“It seems a shame you’ve lived to see better bathing facilities and you don’t take advantage of them,” I commented. I could go all the way through his long hair from crown to tip without a hitch. I felt him relaxing by degrees, and triumph filled me.

“I told you how I felt about bathing,” he muttered, his eyes closing slowly.

“I’m not pushing,” I murmured right back. “Do you intend to wear that outfit all the time now, or is this just a temporary dig at Sir Integra?”

“It depends upon how long she takes seeing my point in our argument.”

I hid a smile. With their strong personalities, Alucard might wear this…bondage bodysuit for a long time. I wouldn’t complain.

“You can’t hide your humor,” he informed. “I felt the vibration of that thought.”

Yes, but he hadn’t picked up on the naughty part. I quickly made myself as blank as possible. “I’m not disrespecting you, master,” I soothed.

“No, you wouldn’t do that, would you?” he replied, opening his eyes. I tossed the brush down and spread his hair out to his sides so he could see how smoothly I’d made it fall.

He touched it. A very small and fleeting glimmer of surprise lit his eyes. Then, he stood. “Happy now?”

“Yes, very.” I couldn’t deny that at all. Touching him made me feel wonderful.