Hunting the Hunter

It wasn't every day one got to shut a door in a Hellsing's face. Despite recent events that had turned Walter's worldview on its head, he found himself grinning at his reflection in the mirror. He had never liked Richard Hellsing; the man had treated the skinny little kid Walter had once been as beneath his notice.

"He notices me now," Walter murmured to his reflection before he ducked his head down to splash cold water on his face. Not that being noticed by Richard would have been a problem if he'd started a liaison with Christian, but that was an entirely moot point.

Despite all his strong words to Doru about refusing to consider might have beens, Walter did feel a pang thinking of Christian Wallace. He hadn't known the man long enough to truly care for him, but he had liked him, and he had been attracted to him. He could honestly say, despite the many times that he had killed, that he had never had to kill someone he liked before.

Still, better Christian than him.

He checked his hair, brushed his teeth, and shook his head in disgust at the state of his waistcoat and shirt. He considered that he had reported to Arthur in worse condition before, his master would probably hardly blink at the black smudges all over Walter's ordinarily immaculate clothes, but it bothered Walter's sense of order. He knew Richard was still waiting in his bedroom, doubtless ready to start haranguing again as soon as he opened the door.

After a moment's consideration, he stripped off his waistcoat, shirt, and tie, leaving his upper body bare. He looked in the mirror again, appraising what he saw there and trying to see himself just for a moment as Doru had seen him. He shot himself a smile - not bad at all - and turned away to drop his clothes in his laundry hamper.

Richard would just have to endure the sight of him like this or he was welcome to get the hell out.

He schooled his features to neutrality before unlocking his bathroom door and opening it. Richard was still there, pacing the room and smoking. He opened his mouth to say something to Walter before realizing the man was half-dressed, a detail that made him pause long enough for Walter to walk past him to open his wardrobe.

It's difficult to get a proper harangue going when the target stoutly refuses to engage. Richard tried, but while Walter didn't ignore him, neither did he give the man more than the barest acknowledgment while he pulled on a crisply-pressed white shirt and a fresh waistcoat. He took a tie from a rack hanging inside the wardrobe and walked past Richard toward the door out into the hallway, tying his tie while he walked.

Richard followed him, filled with accusations and invective, and they made a proper sight for the guards and servants who witnessed the apparently calm butler striding through the halls with the older Hellsing son hard on his heels like a harrying terrier.

In point of fact, Walter was growing angrier by the minute, and it was only out of respect for his master that he did not take any of that anger out on Richard. The fact that Richard had been smoking in his room while Walter was out of cigarettes and had been for hours did nothing whatsoever to help his temperament.

By the time they reached Sir Arthur's study, Walter was hard-pressed to do more than rap sharply on the door and enter without waiting for Arthur's response.

Arthur looked up from the contents of an open folder on his desk, read Walter's tight expression and the open rage on Richard's face, and closed the folder with silent sigh. "Walter," he said, acknowledging his servant first with a nod of his head before looking at his brother with something less than fraternal love. "Richard."

Richard took that as his invitation to let loose. "I thought your man at least knew how to behave with his betters," he started in with Arthur. "He is insubordinate and doesn't know the first meaning of respect!"

Arthur looked from his brother to his butler and Walter could tell from his expression that he was thinking longingly of the bottle of scotch in the cabinet behind him. Walter was thinking more longingly of the cigarettes in the desk drawer back in his room. Richard appeared to be thinking longingly of firing squads or perhaps Torquemada's dungeons. All in all they were three men who were going to have to wait for what they desired.

Arthur pushed his chair back from his desk and leaned back, propping his ankle over his knee and raising an eyebrow at Richard. "My man has returned to me as ordered and is standing there waiting for me to speak first before giving his report. Out of this entire organization he answer to me and me alone. What has he done that you think is so insubordinate or disrespectful?"

"He closed a door in my face, has refused to answer me, and walked right out of a room while I was talking to him," Richard said, pointing an accusatory finger at Walter.

Arthur's other eyebrow rose to join its fellow. "Is this true?" he asked Walter.

"Yes, Sir Hellsing," Walter said. "I hardly thought he wanted to join me in my toilet and I believed reporting to you in good order was my first duty." Walter was rather pleased with himself that he'd managed to imply that Richard had been in his room without coming right out and telling tales on the man.

Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to his brother. It seemed to be dawning on Richard that he'd taken the wrong tack in confronting Walter and Arthur, and he was composing himself to frosty calm while they watched.

"Fine," he said. "Give your report, Dornez, and then we will talk."

Walter waited for Arthur's nod before relating Doru's story of his capture and torture by the white-haired vampire. He looked pointedly at Richard while giving Doru's theory that the vampire's goal had not been to kill either of them, but to hurt them with loss on Doru's part, and betrayal on Walter's. He then added the details of going to Mihaela's home - minus the hugging - and finding that she had narrowly escaped what would likely have been a similar fate.

He did not mention - and Arthur did not ask - where he had slept.

When he finished there was silence in Arthur's office while Arthur and Richard digested what he had just told them. Richard's face set into a scowl, and Walter could almost see the wheels turning as the man tried to work out just how he could turn the report into ammunition for an attack on Walter.

"What took you so long to return?" Richard finally asked. "It can't have taken you all bloody day to question one vampire and play nursemaid to the other."

Walter again looked to Arthur rather than answering Richard. Richard might have the Hellsing name, but he had no formal place in the organization and Walter had decided that he simply did not answer to the man.

"Walter had my orders to return by sundown today and he did so," Arthur said. "He had a very long night and many duties to attend to."

Walter tipped his head slightly in agreement and kept his eyes on his master. He could see that Arthur would have other things to say on the matter, but not in front of his brother. He didn't know what those things would be, but it wouldn't take long to find out.

"Richard," Arthur said, rising from his chair, "I have to brief Walter on his next assignment. As you are not formally attached to Hellsing any longer, perhaps you would like to take this time to get settled in your rooms. I understand that you've been occupied with Mr. Wallace's death since your arrival. I'll be certain to keep you informed if there are any developments." He went to the door to indicate that Richard should leave now.

Richard glared at Walter before he nodded curtly at his brother. "I will have to find a new assistant. Tell your men to expect visitors when I conduct interviews."

"Give them a list," Arthur said. "I will meet you for dinner in an hour if you can find the time. We have an excellent cook. Much better than the one Father always kept around."

He closed the door on Richard with a firm click and turned the key in the lock. Instead of returning to his desk, he opened the cabinet behind it and took out the bottle of scotch he had been thinking of earlier, picking out two glasses to pour a generous measure into.

"Sit," he said, putting one of the glasses on Walter's side of the desk and dropping into his chair with his own glass and the bottle in front of him. He opened one of his desk drawers and removed a small box one might get in a jewelry store. He pushed the box across the desk to Walter and said, "Open it."

Walter took the box and opened it. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but a round white wafer with a cross imprinted on its surface was not even close. He looked up at Arthur with the question written across his face.

"Take it out," Arthur said brusquely.

He understood then. Arthur thought he had been influenced by one of the vampires - Doru, Mihaela, perhaps even the white-haired one. Considering his own resolution to spend more time in church because of his doubts about his dealings with Doru, Walter could not fault the man.

He set the box down on his leg and removed his fingerless gloves before taking the wafer from the box and laying it in his open palm.

Nothing happened.

A tension went out of Arthur and he brought his hand out of his lap to lay a very large pistol down on his desk. He had apparently taken it out of the same drawer as the box. He picked up his glass, drained it, and refilled it.

"I had to know," he told Walter unapologetically and Walter nodded his understanding. If he had been influenced, the Angel of Death was far too dangerous a weapon to be in someone else's hands.

Under the wafer lay a silver cross on a heavy silver chain. Walter turned the box to show Arthur its contents and said, "And this?"

"Put it on," Arthur said simply.

Walter took the cross and chain and clasped it around his neck, then pulled his collar out enough to drop it inside his shirt and out of sight. After that, and with the knowledge that Arthur had actually doubted him, Walter took his glass from the desk and drained it, letting the alcohol drop into the pit in his stomach that had opened with that realization.

Arthur had doubted him.

Arthur leaned across the desk and refilled Walter's glass. "So Richard was waiting for you in your room, was he?"

Walter nodded and turned the glass in his hands, watching the scotch swirl against its sides. "He thinks I killed Christian because I wanted to, not because I had to."

"I know," Arthur said. "We had a row about it last night." He took a swallow of scotch and pulled a face. "I believe you, Walter, but I also think you're getting too close to the vampires. You left out most of the day in your story. Where were you?"

Walter set the glass back down on the desk and sat ramrod straight in the chair. "I slept at Doru's house after he told me his story." He thought about giving a reason - Doru needed a guardian, he had been too tired to drive, he needed time to think after killing Christian. They were all true enough, but they did not touch the self-serving core of why he had slept there.

"I thought as much," Arthur said with a sigh. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Walter's lips twitched up in a hint of a grim smile. "I'm living beyond the pale, Sir Hellsing."

He saw the words sink in and he saw Arthur remember what he had told Walter just two days ago about living a conventional life. We already live beyond the pale, my boy; I don't think that I can, in good conscience, demand that you live a more conventional private life than your professional life.

Walter had taken him at his word with a vengeance.

"Walter..." Arthur tried to think of something to say. Are you barking mad? or perhaps I forbid it. But Walter had just proved that he was still his own man and he had pointedly reminded him that he had given Walter permission to have unorthodox liaisons.

If he weren't so damned valuable....

And loyal and responsible and devoted to Hellsing, Arthur told himself. If he had followed his father, Abraham's, hard line on vampires, Walter would have killed Mihaela and Doru on sight. Arthur saw that he had brought this on himself and on his loyal servant.

"...I have an assignment for you," he finished and pushed the folder across the desk to him. "I want you to leave immediately."

•••

Walter sat in the Bentley he ordinarily used when on business for Hellsing with his forehead leaning against the steering wheel. His traveling case was firmly ensconced in the boot, he had cigarettes (thank God), and he had an assignment that should prove a little different from the usual search and destroy.

He should be happy.

He also had orders not to detour to London and Doru had not answered his telephone.

And Arthur had doubted him.

That cut more deeply than his wires ever could.

He sighed deeply and admonished himself to stop being so self-absorbed. Next he'd be mooning around like a girl in one of those Hollywood pictures. He straightened his shoulders, adjusted his tie, and got out of the car to stride to a bright red pillar box. He turned the envelope over in his hand and questioned whether it was a good idea to send it or not, but ultimately he dropped it through the slot and returned to the car.

•••

Dear Doru,

I have been called away on company business. I do not know how long I will be gone, but when I return, I wish to see you again.

Please give my regards to Mihaela.

Yours,
Walter Dornez