Gunsmith Cats Fan Fiction / Hellsing Fan Fiction / Black Lagoon Fan Fiction ❯ Night Angels EXTRA ❯ Relative Matters ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: BiggKwell 
Bridgett has some unfinished matters she needs to take care of.
Anime/Manga: Gunsmith Cats Fan Fiction / Hellsing Fan Fiction / Black Lagoon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Comedy / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.31.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.0K | Visits: 200 | Status: Completed
Bridgett has some unfinished matters she needs to take care of.
Anime/Manga: Gunsmith Cats Fan Fiction / Hellsing Fan Fiction / Black Lagoon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Comedy / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.31.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.0K | Visits: 200 | Status: Completed
Night Angels EXTRA – “Relative Matters”
Hellsing/Gunsmith Cats fanfiction
By Elwin “Blaine” Coldiron
“Hellsing” and characters are created by Kohta Hirano, and is the property of Shounen Gahousha/Dark Horse Comics, Geneon Universal/Wild Geese/Satelight/Madhouse Studios, and FUNimation Entertainment. “Gunsmith Cats” and characters are created by Kenichi Sonoda, and is the property of Kodansha/Dark Horse Comics, Vap/Tokyo Broadcasting, and Section23/Sentai Filmworks. “Black Lagoon”, was created by Rei Hiroe and is the property of Shogakukan/Viz Media, Madhouse Studios, Geneon Universal, and FUNimation Entertainment. I do not own neither series, nor the characters. I just write the fiction.
XXX
Author's note – I know this may seem odd, but I decided that maybe it was about time I've gotten into the matter of Bridgett's family, as well as making a few changes to my characters. For one, I decided to give Moria a middle name, reflecting her mother's side of the family. Let me know what you think.
XXX
It was with a little bit of trepidation that Moria Farguson Hedgley sensed as she watched as her young ward Bridgett Healy prepared for the day's events. Since making the decision two weeks ago, the young dhampir maid had chosen her clothing with care; a conservative charcoal-gray dress-and-jacket with a white blouse, black shoes, white stockings, and minimal jewelry. The brunette butler/werewolf was dressing in her usual household butler garb, as well as wearing a gray jacket. “Are you certain you're doing the right thing, Bridgett dear?” she finally asked, still watching her ward's preparations.
Bridgett didn't turn around, instead applying the hazel-colored contact lenses over her mauvine eyes. “Of course I am,” she answered, blinking to make sure the lenses were properly set. “I've been more than neglectful about this task since that night. I owe it to Uncle Nigel to visit him, to reconnect with him on family manners...” Briefly though, she paused and sighed. “As well as to tell him of the bad news about Mum and Dad.” Satisfied with her efforts, she turned around to her guardian, as well as future lover when she turned 18. “Well, what do you think?”
Moria smiled as she walked up and draped her arms on her ward's shoulders. “You look lovely,” she said – then yawned. She had made the extra effort to get-up this late in the day for Bridgett's benefit. “I do apologize, Bridgett, I'm not this used to being up this early.”
“Don't,” Bridgett giggled, giving Moria a peck on the cheek. “After all, I do need an escort if I'm to visit Uncle. Well then, shall we go?”
“Berttle should have the car around by now, so I guess we should.” As the two left Bridgett's room, Moria placed a reassuring hand on the dhampir's shoulder. “Remember, I'm there if you need me.” Bridgett just smiled, placing her hand on Moria's as they made their way down.
Just as they made the trip to the landing, the two were greeted by Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, the dusky blonde as imposing as always, more so with the black patch over what was her left eye. “So I see you are making the effort, Bridgett,” she finally said. “I will have you both know that Revy has requested to accompany you as well,” she paused, “on... unrelated business. There was not much for her to do today, so I gave her the remainder of the day off. However, she does have her cellphone should anything happens.”
“I didn't think where we're going would be of any regard for her,” Bridgett replied, a bit surprised. “Still, it is a welcome change, and I could use the company during the trip, so I don't think it would be of any trouble if she came.”
“The same thing for me,” Moria added. “Still, I'd like to know what 'unrelated' business she has if she's coming with us.”
“Just do not antagonize her too much about the reasons, that is all I ask,” Sir Integra cautioned. “Well, I shall not delay you further.” She then gave Bridgett a hug and added, “Give all my love to your uncle.”
“I will, Sir Integra.” With that, the three parted, with Moria and Bridgett walking over to the waiting black Rolls Royce Phantom, Berttle, one of the surviving Wild Geese waiting to let them in.
Sure enough, Revy was also waiting inside, the Chinese woman looking bored. “About fucking time you two showed up,” she growled as Moria and Bridgett entered. “I was waiting here for about ten minutes for you two so long, I was afraid I was going to grow moss.”
“Sorry about that, Revy,” Bridgett said. “I had to make sure these contacts Sir Integra ordered for me fit properly,” she added, pointing to her eyes. “Wouldn't want Uncle Nigel to find out too soon I'm now a dhampir.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Revy answered as the door closed. “So kid, you're headed up to visit your uncle?”
“Indeed we are,” Moria said as Berttle started the car, “which is why I was wondering why you are coming as well. I didn't think you and gaol got along very well.”
“Believe me, the joint and I still don't.” Revy then turned her attention to Bridgett. “Just what the hell did your uncle do to end up getting sent there for life?”
Bridgett paused uncomfortably as the car left the manor's compound, as though remembering some uncomfortable memories. “He had beaten my aunt Anne to death in a drunken rage,” she finally said in a low voice.
“Oh.” Revy instantly regretted asking. “Sorry about that.”
“It's alright, Revy. It should do me good talking about it after all.” Straightening herself in the seat, Bridgett continued. “It was just not normally in his nature to do something like that, after all. It was the drinking that did it. Uncle Nigel is really a peaceful, kind and pious man, but he lost his job when the factory he worked for years closed because of foreign competition, and it hit him very hard when he ended up on the dole and Aunt Anne started her catering business, so he started drinking and became an absolute monster whilst sotten.” Then another memory coursed Bridgett's mind, “When I was nine, he drunkenly stumbled into my room when I was undressing and totally frightened me. After he sobered up, Uncle was absolutely mortified about the whole thing and apologized to me greatly. But ever since then, I can't even bear being naked in front of a man.”
“But you didn't have any trouble whenever me, Moria, Rally or Seras happened in and see you butt fuckin' naked,” the pirate remarked.
“Of course not,” Bridgett replied. “You're women, after all.”
“Listen, I believe now is not the time for discussing such matters,” Moria interjected.
“Yup,” Revy added. “Just before you two are dropped of at the joint, Bert's taking me over to some place that I can score some Bacardi at a decent price, then I'm headed up to that place you told me about, Moria.” She then looked at Moria and added, “Y'know, when I asked you about some decent English grub around this town after that shit I had with the fish and chips shop, I didn't think you'd point me to some fucking Indian restaurant!”
“Revy, it just happens that Indian food is very English!” Moria said. “In fact, I'm proud to say, it's a major national obsession! There are more Indian restaurants in London than in Mumbai and New Delhi combined! My suggestion to you, Revy: I would try to shy away from the more incendiary items on the bill-of-fare – that is, of course,” she added with a smile, “if you feel that you're ready... and try the chicken tiki marsala with the Major Gray's chutney on the side. I'm told upon good authority that their spice recipes are the best in the country, the basmati rice freshly steamed hourly, the nan breads delivered to the table fresh from the tandoor, and all their chutneys are freshly made every day, so be prepared for a long wait for your order. I'm just glad that they've survived the attack by Millennium virtually unscathed, whilst many of their competitors are still rebuilding because of it.”
“And while they are, those guys you told me about are rolling in the dough!” Revy laughed. Then she noticed that Bridgett had removed herself from the conversation, instead looking out the window. Curious, she reached out to her, hoping to reengage her, but was prevented from by Moria, who had a serious look on her face. “What?”
“Leave her be, Revy,” Moria said in a low, but firm voice. Before Revy could object, the butler held out her hand. “Listen, Nigel Healy might be incarcerated, but he's still Bridgett's last living blood relative. She's got a lot on her mind right now, so it would benefit her if we didn't intrude upon her thoughts at this time.” Getting the hint, Revy nodded, choosing to have her conversation with Moria.
As for Bridgett, the dhampir looked as if she ignored them. Instead, she continued to look outside the car at the rapidly-passing landscape outside.
XXX
After dropping Revy off at her intended locale, Berttle drove Moria and Bridgett out of the city, and after an hour's drive arrived in Surrey at their intended location – HM Prison High Down, which according to the prisoner security category system in the United Kingdom was listed as 'Category C', meaning the facility was for prisoners not trusted to be placed in an 'open' facility, but were unlikely to escape. Being that Nigel Healy's crime – involuntary manslaughter – was of a violent nature, but had not offered any defense for his actions, he was placed there – where the two women were being processed as visitors.
As soon as her visitor's badge was affixed to her jacket, Bridgett approached the senior prison officer in charge and said, “I'm here to see my uncle, Nigel Healy, whose an inmate here. However, is it at all possible not to let him know it's his niece to see him?” She smiled and added, “I just want it to be a surprise, that's all.”
“Hmm... I guess we can arrange it, Miss,” the SPO replied. “I'll let the vicar know he's got a visitor.”
“Uh... sir...” Bridgett sputtered, “I think you've misunderstood me. I have no wish to see the vicar, just my uncle.”
“Yes I know, Miss,” came the answer. “Nigel Healy is the vicar in this facility. I'll let him know he's got a visitor.”
As the SPO departed, it was all Bridgett could do but blink in surprise. “Uncle Nigel... a vicar?” she breathed. “I... I knew whenever he was sober he worked as a lay minister at the local church, but I had no realization he'd been ordained!”
“Perhaps he needed something to do whilst he was here, Bridgett,” Moria added. “I do see some advantage to the arrangement, though, of having a vicar that can relate to his congregation.” Bridgett didn't reply, only shaking her head in confusion.
XXX
It was within the prison chapel that Nigel Healy was located. He was leading the prison's addiction recovery outreach, along with ten other prisoners, when the SPO caught his attention. “If you'll pardon me, lads,” he told the others, “I'll see what the guard wants.”
“Oy, don' worry, Vicar, w'll wait,” one of the inmates answered as the man, who was in his early 50's, with graying brown hair and hazel-colored eyes, got up.
“Thank you, lad,” the man said, then in an afterthought asked, “Oh by the way, could one of you hand me my bible?” One of the gathered handed him the black-covered book, then Nigel added, “Come to think of it, I believe we'll knock-off for the week. I'll see you bright and early next week.” The group then said their goodbyes and left the chapel as Nigel greeted the SPO.
“Sorry about interrupting, Vicar,” the officer said, “but you've got yourself a visitor in the reception area.”
“A visitor? I don't recall anyone making an appointment for me today.” Confused, the man asked, “Who is it, then?”
“Wish I could be of liberty to tell you, but the interested party asked that their identities be kept anonymous.” The SPO looked very apologetic as he added, “Sorry.”
“Oh please, don't be,” Nigel laughed. “Very well, let me entertain these visitors.” All the SPO did was to patiently escort the man to the reception area.
XXX
It was during this that Bridgett was nervously pacing back-and-forth across the floor, occasionally making a glance towards the door. “Honestly, Bridgett,” Moria humorously said, “You're going to wear a path across the linoleum with all that pacing you're doing. Just calm down and relax.”
“How can I relax, Moria?” the dhampir replied. “The last time I saw Uncle Nigel was when the bailiffs of the Old Bailey were leading him from the dock after he plead 'guilty' for killing Aunt Anne. I just... I just don't know what to do when I meet him.”
“I wouldn't worry, Bridgett dear,” Moria patiently said as she noticed two sets of footsteps approaching. “God willing, you'll find the courage to face him.” The SPO was the first to enter, followed by Nigel. It took a second for the older man to look at the two women, but was confused at first. Then he cast his eyes upon Bridgett, and his confusion only gotten greater. This young woman with short, black hair looked strange... and yet, somewhat familiar.
Bridgett was the first to break the ice. “Hello, Uncle Nigel. It's nice to see you again,” she said nervously.
Instantly, a look of recognition came over Nigel's face. “BRIDGETT!!!” he exclaimed, walking forward to meet his niece, with Bridgett meeting him halfway in an embrace. After a few seconds, Nigel pulled back to look at her. “My God, I didn't recognized you at first, but look at you! You've changed! You're taller, and looking more like your mother than the last time I saw you!”
“Well it has been at least four years since I've last seen you, Uncle,” Bridgett said, her smile radiant. “When I heard the SPO mention that you're a vicar, I couldn't believe it at first. Is it true? Have you really been ordained as a vicar?”
“Indeed I have, Bridgett love,” Nigel said, hugging Bridgett again – only to pause as if sensing something about his niece that was a bit off the last time they met. Then putting it aside, he added, “I must say, I never expected you of all people coming over to visit me... after what I did to your aunt.”
“Oh yes, that.” Bridgett looked a bit ill of ease trying to find the right words. “Well... I've done a bit of soul searching all this time and...”
“Bridgett, if you don't mind, I think I'll be leaving you and your uncle alone to catch up on things,” Moria interrupted, walking towards the door. “I'll be in the visitor's commissary if you need me.”
“Uh... yes, Moria,” Bridgett replied, then noticed Nigel's odd look as the butler made her way out. “Uncle Nigel, this is Moria Farguson Hedgley, my supervisor... and guardian.”
“Guardian?” Nigel looked perplexed. “Bridgett, I heard there was trouble in London some months back. I've asked the guards here and tried to get ahold of you and your parents but couldn't reach you because of some disruption in the phone lines. Did anything happen that I should know about?”
The lump in Bridgett's throat only tightened as she fought to get the words out. “Uncle...” she choked, finding a tissue to quickly daub away her eyes, not wishing her uncle to see the pink teardrops, “I'm afraid... Mum and Dad are gone!”
Nigel was thunderstruck hearing the news of his brother's death, as well as his sister-in-law. Then the tears came as he sat himself down. “Clive... Margaret,” he whispered. “Bridgett... I'm... I'm sorry. What about your girlfriend Nell? I've heard from your father that you two were in a relationship. Is she alright?” The dhampir just shook her head, turning away to keep Nigel from seeing her tears. “I see. Oh Bridgett... to think that... that all sorts of horrible things had happened to you... I understand.”
Bridgett quickly wiped her eyes, then turned to face Nigel. “I'm glad to hear that, Uncle Nigel,” she finally said. “Granted, I wasn't even sure how I would be able to survive until I was taken in by Sir Integra.”
“Sir Integra?” asked Nigel, an odd look on his face. “Now... that wouldn't be Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, now will it?”
“Uh... w-why of course, Uncle Nigel... but... but how do you know about her?”
“Never mind about that, Bridgett, I'm just glad you're okay, that's all.” Then Nigel decided to change the subject. “Like I said, I'm sorry to hear about Nell. From what Clive your father told me, you and her were going to take your relationship to another level.”
Now Bridgett looked a little ashamed. “Yes, we... we were planning to get married once we graduated from college. But since homosexuals couldn't be legally married in England, we had planned to go to Amsterdam to get married.”
“I see,” Nigel said, smiling as he nodded. “Granted the church doesn't approve of such marriages, but I would've been happy if Nell would've given you her name as her bride.”
“Her name? Uncle Nigel, I don't understand. Why should I have the surname 'York' for myself?”
Nigel decided to get to the point. “Bridgett, what I done to Anne was a horrible thing. I don't want to see you burdened the Healy name, now that I've disgraced it!”
“Disgraced it?” Now Bridgett was confused even further. “I don't understand?”
“Bridgett... I've killed your aunt, beaten her with my bare hands,” Nigel explained. “Before your great' grandfather's family was driven from Derry for London because as Protestants we supported the cause of Irish unity, the Healy name was something respected. Now I fell that, because of my crime, no one will look at you without thinking of that.”
“Now that you've mentioned it, Uncle,” Bridgett mused, “many of our neighbours often talked in low whispers afterwords about our family... well, except Nell's. But I never thought much of it until right now.”
Nigel nodded knowingly, watch his niece's face. “Now you understand. Bridgett, as always you're welcome to visit me whenever you feel your schedule at the Hellsing house allows – but I must ask you, find some way to distance yourself from the Healy name... if not for my sake, but yours!”
It took a while for the young dhampir to digest what her uncle said. “Forsake the Healy name?” Bridgett said, mystified. “Uncle, I'll give your advice some thought.” She shrugged, “Who knows, maybe I'll find something that fits.”
“That's my niece,” Nigel said in a low voice. Then his tack changed. “Well, not that we've gotten that bit of business taken care of, let's talk about your new job. I want to know how your life is right now.”
Bridgett had to think for a few seconds about what she wanted to tell her uncle. Granted, she didn't want to lie to him – but she had no wish to tell him everything about the Hellsing Organization! Finally deciding how to approach the subject, she began with, “Oh it's wonderful, Uncle! Not only I have a good job – but also a place to live, since I couldn't go back to the house. Let me tell you about it...”
XXX
Meanwhile, as Bridgett and her charge discussed family matters, Moria retired to the prison's visitor's commissary, where she purchased a cup of tea, as well as finding a copy of The Times, which had recently resumed publishing following the Millennium attack. Looking through the newspaper, the young butler was pleasantly pleased that the news blackout about the incident, oversaw by Sir Integra, was in place, the whole thing still being referred to as a huge fire.
“So far, so good,” she said to herself in a low voice. “At least I can report to Sir Integra that it's holding up. Can't have everyone thinking that vampires are running amok in the world. I certainly hope the blackout in Washington D.C. is holding up as well, after the mess Millennium made there as well.” Moria then took a sip of her tea... then shuttered. “Uhggg... tea from a tea bag... how dreadful!” However, she chuckled afterword. “Oh well, I guess that's the best prison can afford. Not everybody can have the luxury of loose tea without being a security risk. It would be nice, though... especially for the staff.”
And so it was for the next hour, Moria continued to read and relax while she waited for Bridgett to finish her personal business. Then she heard the door open up, and when she looked up, she saw her charge, along with Nigel and the SPO exit. “Well I must say that was an illuminating hour, Bridgett,” Nigel began. “Well, if you don't mind, I'll be leaving you to your business.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Bridgett answered, giving her uncle a peck on the cheek. “I'll ask Sir Integra if I can have some time off next month to check on you again.”
“You do that,” the man said, then turned to Moria and asked, “Young lady, mind if I have a word with you in private?”
“Oh not at all, Vicar,” Moria replied, setting down her paper. “Bridgett, could you wait for me?”
“Don't mind if I do,” the dhampir said, heading for the check-out.
Nigel then turned to the SPO, “Sir, if you don't mind...”
“Not at all, Vicar,” the officer said, stepping to another part of the room.
Taking advantage of their privacy, Nigel made his way to the table Moria was sitting at. Sitting herself up, the butler straightened out her clothes, then asked, “So, what do you have on your mind, Vicar?”
For a second, Nigel looked around, making sure no one was listening in. Leaning over, he began quietly, “I know Bridgett's working with the Hellsing Organization.”
To be quite frank, Moria looked a little surprised. “How... how do you know that?” she asked in the same tone.”
“Young lady, I'm an ordained minister of the Church of England, the Hellsing Organization is hardly a secret there,” Nigel chuckled, then added, more seriously, “And besides, I had several friends who had survived the incident in Cheddar some years back.”
Moria nodded, remembering the incident that transformed her friend/lover Seras Victoria into a vampire. “I see. Is that ALL you have to say?”
“Not at all.” Nigel then leaned closer. “I noticed when I hugged Bridgett that something about her has changed.”
“I... guess that family would know,” Moria mused after a long pause. “You're right, Vicar, Bridgett isn't exactly... human anymore, but not a vampire.”
“That's what I need to know.” Nigel took a breath before adding, “Please, don't tell Bridgett that I know about her. She's all I have left in the world now that my brother and his wife are gone, and I don't want her feeling that I would treat her like some kind of monster. But after what my drinking had done to her in her mind, I don't want to have any part of her upbringing. You ARE capable of that, are you?”
“Sir Integra had me appointed as her guardian until she is of adult age,” Moria answered. “I'll have you know that, until then, I will protect her as if she were my own, Vicar.”
Nigel smiled. “Thank you. Well, just to let you know, the supervisor of this facility seemed satisfied about my conduct here that he's petitioned to the higher-ups to have me transferred to an 'open' facility closer to London. Would give me a little more freedom to move about as long as I return, and I'm told that it would mean a new congregation for me to tend.”
“Yes, about that,” Moria asked, “Bridgett mentioned to me that you were a lay minister at your local church during periods of sobriety. What possessed you to be ordained.”
“Being in here.” Nigel straightened himself up, then added. “First month was the roughest, though. The day I suffered the D.T.'s, I became convinced that my drinking had gotten out-of-control. Took a lot of will power,” he patted his Bible, “not to mention this, but after three months of incarceration, I felt it was God's calling to enter the ministry.” A pause, then a smile, “The Archbishop of Canterbury was there at my ordainment, that enough has to be special.”
“Indeed. Well, I had better get myself checked out,” Moria said, getting up from the table. “As soon as your reassignment is confirmed, please let Bridgett know about it. I'm certain she would love to visit you.” Then another thought crossed her mind, “By the way, is there anything we could do for you in the meantime.”
“Not if you can get me some decent vestments for Sunday service,” Nigel chuckled. “To tell you the truth, it's a bit awkward doing a sermon wearing a prison uniform.” Moria didn't say anything, but the look on her face was telling.
THE HELLSING MANSION, ONE MONTH LATER...
As was their weekly ritual, both Bridgett and Moria were in a secluded part of the mansion. As part of Bridgett's maintenance, she had to drink a small amount of fresh blood in order to prevent her bloodlust from getting too aggressive. Bridgett hated drinking blood from Moria, but recognized the importance, so at that moment, she had sank her fangs into her guardian's neck and drank, while Moria moaned blissfully.
As soon as she felt she was finished, Bridgett licked the wound in the butler's neck, sealing it. However, she was a little disturbed about Moria's reaction. “I don't understand why you have to act as if you're enjoying this,” she said as her guardian re-buttoned her shirt and adjusted her tie. “The way it sounds, your moaning and all that... I feel like that I've broken my promise to you.”
“Don't worry too much about it, Bridgett dear,” Moria replied in a comforting voice. “It's an involuntary reflex of someone having their blood drained from them...” she then bend down and deeply kissed the dhampir, then as soon as they parted added, “... by someone who cares about them. Besides, what emotions did you sense when you taste my blood?”
Bridgett took her time, trying to flesh-out Moria's emotions – then smiled. “I guess it's not worth mentioning... you weren't in any sort of discomfort.”
Moria smiled as well. “I've had a lot of practice from Seras and Rally.”
Their solitude was then interrupted by Irene 'Rally' Vincent, wearing her Hellsing uniform, only in black. “There you are, Bridgett. Look, I know your shift's up, but Sir Integra wants you to accompany me and Master on rounds in the city tonight.” Her face got grimmer, “Training, y'know.”
“I see. Could you pardon me so that I can change into my uniform?” the dhampir said to the two.
“Go right ahead, Bridgett. Just need to talk to Moria before going out.” As soon as the young maid left, Rally walked next to the butler. “Oh, and about that little thing you asked Integra about last month, she told me the packages should be delivered as of tonight.”
“Good,” Moria replied, looking into the direction Bridgett had departed. “Should give Bridgett a few surprises the next time she visits her uncle.”
AT THE SAME TIME...
Admittedly, Nigel was more than surprised about the gift he received from the SPO of the new prison facility he was assigned to. Like it was hoped, it was an 'open' facility nearer to London, and as the only vicar of the facility, he gained the rare privilege of having a cell of his own. Of course, he never expected what he gotten as a gift from Sir Integra – three sets of elegiacal vestments, something fitting for someone of his station.
“I must admit,” he said to himself, “a welcome change indeed!” Nigel then chuckled, “I guess I'll be giving the lads a little surprise this Sunday.”
END
AUTHOR'S NOTES – Just want to let you guys know that, if I made any errors in some of the facts in the story, I would appreciate it if you would let me know about it. Also, if anyone is curious about the word 'gaol', it is pronounced 'jail'. I thought it sounded British.
9/11/01
FDNY-NYPD-THE REAL HEROES
Hellsing/Gunsmith Cats fanfiction
By Elwin “Blaine” Coldiron
“Hellsing” and characters are created by Kohta Hirano, and is the property of Shounen Gahousha/Dark Horse Comics, Geneon Universal/Wild Geese/Satelight/Madhouse Studios, and FUNimation Entertainment. “Gunsmith Cats” and characters are created by Kenichi Sonoda, and is the property of Kodansha/Dark Horse Comics, Vap/Tokyo Broadcasting, and Section23/Sentai Filmworks. “Black Lagoon”, was created by Rei Hiroe and is the property of Shogakukan/Viz Media, Madhouse Studios, Geneon Universal, and FUNimation Entertainment. I do not own neither series, nor the characters. I just write the fiction.
XXX
Author's note – I know this may seem odd, but I decided that maybe it was about time I've gotten into the matter of Bridgett's family, as well as making a few changes to my characters. For one, I decided to give Moria a middle name, reflecting her mother's side of the family. Let me know what you think.
XXX
It was with a little bit of trepidation that Moria Farguson Hedgley sensed as she watched as her young ward Bridgett Healy prepared for the day's events. Since making the decision two weeks ago, the young dhampir maid had chosen her clothing with care; a conservative charcoal-gray dress-and-jacket with a white blouse, black shoes, white stockings, and minimal jewelry. The brunette butler/werewolf was dressing in her usual household butler garb, as well as wearing a gray jacket. “Are you certain you're doing the right thing, Bridgett dear?” she finally asked, still watching her ward's preparations.
Bridgett didn't turn around, instead applying the hazel-colored contact lenses over her mauvine eyes. “Of course I am,” she answered, blinking to make sure the lenses were properly set. “I've been more than neglectful about this task since that night. I owe it to Uncle Nigel to visit him, to reconnect with him on family manners...” Briefly though, she paused and sighed. “As well as to tell him of the bad news about Mum and Dad.” Satisfied with her efforts, she turned around to her guardian, as well as future lover when she turned 18. “Well, what do you think?”
Moria smiled as she walked up and draped her arms on her ward's shoulders. “You look lovely,” she said – then yawned. She had made the extra effort to get-up this late in the day for Bridgett's benefit. “I do apologize, Bridgett, I'm not this used to being up this early.”
“Don't,” Bridgett giggled, giving Moria a peck on the cheek. “After all, I do need an escort if I'm to visit Uncle. Well then, shall we go?”
“Berttle should have the car around by now, so I guess we should.” As the two left Bridgett's room, Moria placed a reassuring hand on the dhampir's shoulder. “Remember, I'm there if you need me.” Bridgett just smiled, placing her hand on Moria's as they made their way down.
Just as they made the trip to the landing, the two were greeted by Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, the dusky blonde as imposing as always, more so with the black patch over what was her left eye. “So I see you are making the effort, Bridgett,” she finally said. “I will have you both know that Revy has requested to accompany you as well,” she paused, “on... unrelated business. There was not much for her to do today, so I gave her the remainder of the day off. However, she does have her cellphone should anything happens.”
“I didn't think where we're going would be of any regard for her,” Bridgett replied, a bit surprised. “Still, it is a welcome change, and I could use the company during the trip, so I don't think it would be of any trouble if she came.”
“The same thing for me,” Moria added. “Still, I'd like to know what 'unrelated' business she has if she's coming with us.”
“Just do not antagonize her too much about the reasons, that is all I ask,” Sir Integra cautioned. “Well, I shall not delay you further.” She then gave Bridgett a hug and added, “Give all my love to your uncle.”
“I will, Sir Integra.” With that, the three parted, with Moria and Bridgett walking over to the waiting black Rolls Royce Phantom, Berttle, one of the surviving Wild Geese waiting to let them in.
Sure enough, Revy was also waiting inside, the Chinese woman looking bored. “About fucking time you two showed up,” she growled as Moria and Bridgett entered. “I was waiting here for about ten minutes for you two so long, I was afraid I was going to grow moss.”
“Sorry about that, Revy,” Bridgett said. “I had to make sure these contacts Sir Integra ordered for me fit properly,” she added, pointing to her eyes. “Wouldn't want Uncle Nigel to find out too soon I'm now a dhampir.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Revy answered as the door closed. “So kid, you're headed up to visit your uncle?”
“Indeed we are,” Moria said as Berttle started the car, “which is why I was wondering why you are coming as well. I didn't think you and gaol got along very well.”
“Believe me, the joint and I still don't.” Revy then turned her attention to Bridgett. “Just what the hell did your uncle do to end up getting sent there for life?”
Bridgett paused uncomfortably as the car left the manor's compound, as though remembering some uncomfortable memories. “He had beaten my aunt Anne to death in a drunken rage,” she finally said in a low voice.
“Oh.” Revy instantly regretted asking. “Sorry about that.”
“It's alright, Revy. It should do me good talking about it after all.” Straightening herself in the seat, Bridgett continued. “It was just not normally in his nature to do something like that, after all. It was the drinking that did it. Uncle Nigel is really a peaceful, kind and pious man, but he lost his job when the factory he worked for years closed because of foreign competition, and it hit him very hard when he ended up on the dole and Aunt Anne started her catering business, so he started drinking and became an absolute monster whilst sotten.” Then another memory coursed Bridgett's mind, “When I was nine, he drunkenly stumbled into my room when I was undressing and totally frightened me. After he sobered up, Uncle was absolutely mortified about the whole thing and apologized to me greatly. But ever since then, I can't even bear being naked in front of a man.”
“But you didn't have any trouble whenever me, Moria, Rally or Seras happened in and see you butt fuckin' naked,” the pirate remarked.
“Of course not,” Bridgett replied. “You're women, after all.”
“Listen, I believe now is not the time for discussing such matters,” Moria interjected.
“Yup,” Revy added. “Just before you two are dropped of at the joint, Bert's taking me over to some place that I can score some Bacardi at a decent price, then I'm headed up to that place you told me about, Moria.” She then looked at Moria and added, “Y'know, when I asked you about some decent English grub around this town after that shit I had with the fish and chips shop, I didn't think you'd point me to some fucking Indian restaurant!”
“Revy, it just happens that Indian food is very English!” Moria said. “In fact, I'm proud to say, it's a major national obsession! There are more Indian restaurants in London than in Mumbai and New Delhi combined! My suggestion to you, Revy: I would try to shy away from the more incendiary items on the bill-of-fare – that is, of course,” she added with a smile, “if you feel that you're ready... and try the chicken tiki marsala with the Major Gray's chutney on the side. I'm told upon good authority that their spice recipes are the best in the country, the basmati rice freshly steamed hourly, the nan breads delivered to the table fresh from the tandoor, and all their chutneys are freshly made every day, so be prepared for a long wait for your order. I'm just glad that they've survived the attack by Millennium virtually unscathed, whilst many of their competitors are still rebuilding because of it.”
“And while they are, those guys you told me about are rolling in the dough!” Revy laughed. Then she noticed that Bridgett had removed herself from the conversation, instead looking out the window. Curious, she reached out to her, hoping to reengage her, but was prevented from by Moria, who had a serious look on her face. “What?”
“Leave her be, Revy,” Moria said in a low, but firm voice. Before Revy could object, the butler held out her hand. “Listen, Nigel Healy might be incarcerated, but he's still Bridgett's last living blood relative. She's got a lot on her mind right now, so it would benefit her if we didn't intrude upon her thoughts at this time.” Getting the hint, Revy nodded, choosing to have her conversation with Moria.
As for Bridgett, the dhampir looked as if she ignored them. Instead, she continued to look outside the car at the rapidly-passing landscape outside.
XXX
After dropping Revy off at her intended locale, Berttle drove Moria and Bridgett out of the city, and after an hour's drive arrived in Surrey at their intended location – HM Prison High Down, which according to the prisoner security category system in the United Kingdom was listed as 'Category C', meaning the facility was for prisoners not trusted to be placed in an 'open' facility, but were unlikely to escape. Being that Nigel Healy's crime – involuntary manslaughter – was of a violent nature, but had not offered any defense for his actions, he was placed there – where the two women were being processed as visitors.
As soon as her visitor's badge was affixed to her jacket, Bridgett approached the senior prison officer in charge and said, “I'm here to see my uncle, Nigel Healy, whose an inmate here. However, is it at all possible not to let him know it's his niece to see him?” She smiled and added, “I just want it to be a surprise, that's all.”
“Hmm... I guess we can arrange it, Miss,” the SPO replied. “I'll let the vicar know he's got a visitor.”
“Uh... sir...” Bridgett sputtered, “I think you've misunderstood me. I have no wish to see the vicar, just my uncle.”
“Yes I know, Miss,” came the answer. “Nigel Healy is the vicar in this facility. I'll let him know he's got a visitor.”
As the SPO departed, it was all Bridgett could do but blink in surprise. “Uncle Nigel... a vicar?” she breathed. “I... I knew whenever he was sober he worked as a lay minister at the local church, but I had no realization he'd been ordained!”
“Perhaps he needed something to do whilst he was here, Bridgett,” Moria added. “I do see some advantage to the arrangement, though, of having a vicar that can relate to his congregation.” Bridgett didn't reply, only shaking her head in confusion.
XXX
It was within the prison chapel that Nigel Healy was located. He was leading the prison's addiction recovery outreach, along with ten other prisoners, when the SPO caught his attention. “If you'll pardon me, lads,” he told the others, “I'll see what the guard wants.”
“Oy, don' worry, Vicar, w'll wait,” one of the inmates answered as the man, who was in his early 50's, with graying brown hair and hazel-colored eyes, got up.
“Thank you, lad,” the man said, then in an afterthought asked, “Oh by the way, could one of you hand me my bible?” One of the gathered handed him the black-covered book, then Nigel added, “Come to think of it, I believe we'll knock-off for the week. I'll see you bright and early next week.” The group then said their goodbyes and left the chapel as Nigel greeted the SPO.
“Sorry about interrupting, Vicar,” the officer said, “but you've got yourself a visitor in the reception area.”
“A visitor? I don't recall anyone making an appointment for me today.” Confused, the man asked, “Who is it, then?”
“Wish I could be of liberty to tell you, but the interested party asked that their identities be kept anonymous.” The SPO looked very apologetic as he added, “Sorry.”
“Oh please, don't be,” Nigel laughed. “Very well, let me entertain these visitors.” All the SPO did was to patiently escort the man to the reception area.
XXX
It was during this that Bridgett was nervously pacing back-and-forth across the floor, occasionally making a glance towards the door. “Honestly, Bridgett,” Moria humorously said, “You're going to wear a path across the linoleum with all that pacing you're doing. Just calm down and relax.”
“How can I relax, Moria?” the dhampir replied. “The last time I saw Uncle Nigel was when the bailiffs of the Old Bailey were leading him from the dock after he plead 'guilty' for killing Aunt Anne. I just... I just don't know what to do when I meet him.”
“I wouldn't worry, Bridgett dear,” Moria patiently said as she noticed two sets of footsteps approaching. “God willing, you'll find the courage to face him.” The SPO was the first to enter, followed by Nigel. It took a second for the older man to look at the two women, but was confused at first. Then he cast his eyes upon Bridgett, and his confusion only gotten greater. This young woman with short, black hair looked strange... and yet, somewhat familiar.
Bridgett was the first to break the ice. “Hello, Uncle Nigel. It's nice to see you again,” she said nervously.
Instantly, a look of recognition came over Nigel's face. “BRIDGETT!!!” he exclaimed, walking forward to meet his niece, with Bridgett meeting him halfway in an embrace. After a few seconds, Nigel pulled back to look at her. “My God, I didn't recognized you at first, but look at you! You've changed! You're taller, and looking more like your mother than the last time I saw you!”
“Well it has been at least four years since I've last seen you, Uncle,” Bridgett said, her smile radiant. “When I heard the SPO mention that you're a vicar, I couldn't believe it at first. Is it true? Have you really been ordained as a vicar?”
“Indeed I have, Bridgett love,” Nigel said, hugging Bridgett again – only to pause as if sensing something about his niece that was a bit off the last time they met. Then putting it aside, he added, “I must say, I never expected you of all people coming over to visit me... after what I did to your aunt.”
“Oh yes, that.” Bridgett looked a bit ill of ease trying to find the right words. “Well... I've done a bit of soul searching all this time and...”
“Bridgett, if you don't mind, I think I'll be leaving you and your uncle alone to catch up on things,” Moria interrupted, walking towards the door. “I'll be in the visitor's commissary if you need me.”
“Uh... yes, Moria,” Bridgett replied, then noticed Nigel's odd look as the butler made her way out. “Uncle Nigel, this is Moria Farguson Hedgley, my supervisor... and guardian.”
“Guardian?” Nigel looked perplexed. “Bridgett, I heard there was trouble in London some months back. I've asked the guards here and tried to get ahold of you and your parents but couldn't reach you because of some disruption in the phone lines. Did anything happen that I should know about?”
The lump in Bridgett's throat only tightened as she fought to get the words out. “Uncle...” she choked, finding a tissue to quickly daub away her eyes, not wishing her uncle to see the pink teardrops, “I'm afraid... Mum and Dad are gone!”
Nigel was thunderstruck hearing the news of his brother's death, as well as his sister-in-law. Then the tears came as he sat himself down. “Clive... Margaret,” he whispered. “Bridgett... I'm... I'm sorry. What about your girlfriend Nell? I've heard from your father that you two were in a relationship. Is she alright?” The dhampir just shook her head, turning away to keep Nigel from seeing her tears. “I see. Oh Bridgett... to think that... that all sorts of horrible things had happened to you... I understand.”
Bridgett quickly wiped her eyes, then turned to face Nigel. “I'm glad to hear that, Uncle Nigel,” she finally said. “Granted, I wasn't even sure how I would be able to survive until I was taken in by Sir Integra.”
“Sir Integra?” asked Nigel, an odd look on his face. “Now... that wouldn't be Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, now will it?”
“Uh... w-why of course, Uncle Nigel... but... but how do you know about her?”
“Never mind about that, Bridgett, I'm just glad you're okay, that's all.” Then Nigel decided to change the subject. “Like I said, I'm sorry to hear about Nell. From what Clive your father told me, you and her were going to take your relationship to another level.”
Now Bridgett looked a little ashamed. “Yes, we... we were planning to get married once we graduated from college. But since homosexuals couldn't be legally married in England, we had planned to go to Amsterdam to get married.”
“I see,” Nigel said, smiling as he nodded. “Granted the church doesn't approve of such marriages, but I would've been happy if Nell would've given you her name as her bride.”
“Her name? Uncle Nigel, I don't understand. Why should I have the surname 'York' for myself?”
Nigel decided to get to the point. “Bridgett, what I done to Anne was a horrible thing. I don't want to see you burdened the Healy name, now that I've disgraced it!”
“Disgraced it?” Now Bridgett was confused even further. “I don't understand?”
“Bridgett... I've killed your aunt, beaten her with my bare hands,” Nigel explained. “Before your great' grandfather's family was driven from Derry for London because as Protestants we supported the cause of Irish unity, the Healy name was something respected. Now I fell that, because of my crime, no one will look at you without thinking of that.”
“Now that you've mentioned it, Uncle,” Bridgett mused, “many of our neighbours often talked in low whispers afterwords about our family... well, except Nell's. But I never thought much of it until right now.”
Nigel nodded knowingly, watch his niece's face. “Now you understand. Bridgett, as always you're welcome to visit me whenever you feel your schedule at the Hellsing house allows – but I must ask you, find some way to distance yourself from the Healy name... if not for my sake, but yours!”
It took a while for the young dhampir to digest what her uncle said. “Forsake the Healy name?” Bridgett said, mystified. “Uncle, I'll give your advice some thought.” She shrugged, “Who knows, maybe I'll find something that fits.”
“That's my niece,” Nigel said in a low voice. Then his tack changed. “Well, not that we've gotten that bit of business taken care of, let's talk about your new job. I want to know how your life is right now.”
Bridgett had to think for a few seconds about what she wanted to tell her uncle. Granted, she didn't want to lie to him – but she had no wish to tell him everything about the Hellsing Organization! Finally deciding how to approach the subject, she began with, “Oh it's wonderful, Uncle! Not only I have a good job – but also a place to live, since I couldn't go back to the house. Let me tell you about it...”
XXX
Meanwhile, as Bridgett and her charge discussed family matters, Moria retired to the prison's visitor's commissary, where she purchased a cup of tea, as well as finding a copy of The Times, which had recently resumed publishing following the Millennium attack. Looking through the newspaper, the young butler was pleasantly pleased that the news blackout about the incident, oversaw by Sir Integra, was in place, the whole thing still being referred to as a huge fire.
“So far, so good,” she said to herself in a low voice. “At least I can report to Sir Integra that it's holding up. Can't have everyone thinking that vampires are running amok in the world. I certainly hope the blackout in Washington D.C. is holding up as well, after the mess Millennium made there as well.” Moria then took a sip of her tea... then shuttered. “Uhggg... tea from a tea bag... how dreadful!” However, she chuckled afterword. “Oh well, I guess that's the best prison can afford. Not everybody can have the luxury of loose tea without being a security risk. It would be nice, though... especially for the staff.”
And so it was for the next hour, Moria continued to read and relax while she waited for Bridgett to finish her personal business. Then she heard the door open up, and when she looked up, she saw her charge, along with Nigel and the SPO exit. “Well I must say that was an illuminating hour, Bridgett,” Nigel began. “Well, if you don't mind, I'll be leaving you to your business.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Bridgett answered, giving her uncle a peck on the cheek. “I'll ask Sir Integra if I can have some time off next month to check on you again.”
“You do that,” the man said, then turned to Moria and asked, “Young lady, mind if I have a word with you in private?”
“Oh not at all, Vicar,” Moria replied, setting down her paper. “Bridgett, could you wait for me?”
“Don't mind if I do,” the dhampir said, heading for the check-out.
Nigel then turned to the SPO, “Sir, if you don't mind...”
“Not at all, Vicar,” the officer said, stepping to another part of the room.
Taking advantage of their privacy, Nigel made his way to the table Moria was sitting at. Sitting herself up, the butler straightened out her clothes, then asked, “So, what do you have on your mind, Vicar?”
For a second, Nigel looked around, making sure no one was listening in. Leaning over, he began quietly, “I know Bridgett's working with the Hellsing Organization.”
To be quite frank, Moria looked a little surprised. “How... how do you know that?” she asked in the same tone.”
“Young lady, I'm an ordained minister of the Church of England, the Hellsing Organization is hardly a secret there,” Nigel chuckled, then added, more seriously, “And besides, I had several friends who had survived the incident in Cheddar some years back.”
Moria nodded, remembering the incident that transformed her friend/lover Seras Victoria into a vampire. “I see. Is that ALL you have to say?”
“Not at all.” Nigel then leaned closer. “I noticed when I hugged Bridgett that something about her has changed.”
“I... guess that family would know,” Moria mused after a long pause. “You're right, Vicar, Bridgett isn't exactly... human anymore, but not a vampire.”
“That's what I need to know.” Nigel took a breath before adding, “Please, don't tell Bridgett that I know about her. She's all I have left in the world now that my brother and his wife are gone, and I don't want her feeling that I would treat her like some kind of monster. But after what my drinking had done to her in her mind, I don't want to have any part of her upbringing. You ARE capable of that, are you?”
“Sir Integra had me appointed as her guardian until she is of adult age,” Moria answered. “I'll have you know that, until then, I will protect her as if she were my own, Vicar.”
Nigel smiled. “Thank you. Well, just to let you know, the supervisor of this facility seemed satisfied about my conduct here that he's petitioned to the higher-ups to have me transferred to an 'open' facility closer to London. Would give me a little more freedom to move about as long as I return, and I'm told that it would mean a new congregation for me to tend.”
“Yes, about that,” Moria asked, “Bridgett mentioned to me that you were a lay minister at your local church during periods of sobriety. What possessed you to be ordained.”
“Being in here.” Nigel straightened himself up, then added. “First month was the roughest, though. The day I suffered the D.T.'s, I became convinced that my drinking had gotten out-of-control. Took a lot of will power,” he patted his Bible, “not to mention this, but after three months of incarceration, I felt it was God's calling to enter the ministry.” A pause, then a smile, “The Archbishop of Canterbury was there at my ordainment, that enough has to be special.”
“Indeed. Well, I had better get myself checked out,” Moria said, getting up from the table. “As soon as your reassignment is confirmed, please let Bridgett know about it. I'm certain she would love to visit you.” Then another thought crossed her mind, “By the way, is there anything we could do for you in the meantime.”
“Not if you can get me some decent vestments for Sunday service,” Nigel chuckled. “To tell you the truth, it's a bit awkward doing a sermon wearing a prison uniform.” Moria didn't say anything, but the look on her face was telling.
THE HELLSING MANSION, ONE MONTH LATER...
As was their weekly ritual, both Bridgett and Moria were in a secluded part of the mansion. As part of Bridgett's maintenance, she had to drink a small amount of fresh blood in order to prevent her bloodlust from getting too aggressive. Bridgett hated drinking blood from Moria, but recognized the importance, so at that moment, she had sank her fangs into her guardian's neck and drank, while Moria moaned blissfully.
As soon as she felt she was finished, Bridgett licked the wound in the butler's neck, sealing it. However, she was a little disturbed about Moria's reaction. “I don't understand why you have to act as if you're enjoying this,” she said as her guardian re-buttoned her shirt and adjusted her tie. “The way it sounds, your moaning and all that... I feel like that I've broken my promise to you.”
“Don't worry too much about it, Bridgett dear,” Moria replied in a comforting voice. “It's an involuntary reflex of someone having their blood drained from them...” she then bend down and deeply kissed the dhampir, then as soon as they parted added, “... by someone who cares about them. Besides, what emotions did you sense when you taste my blood?”
Bridgett took her time, trying to flesh-out Moria's emotions – then smiled. “I guess it's not worth mentioning... you weren't in any sort of discomfort.”
Moria smiled as well. “I've had a lot of practice from Seras and Rally.”
Their solitude was then interrupted by Irene 'Rally' Vincent, wearing her Hellsing uniform, only in black. “There you are, Bridgett. Look, I know your shift's up, but Sir Integra wants you to accompany me and Master on rounds in the city tonight.” Her face got grimmer, “Training, y'know.”
“I see. Could you pardon me so that I can change into my uniform?” the dhampir said to the two.
“Go right ahead, Bridgett. Just need to talk to Moria before going out.” As soon as the young maid left, Rally walked next to the butler. “Oh, and about that little thing you asked Integra about last month, she told me the packages should be delivered as of tonight.”
“Good,” Moria replied, looking into the direction Bridgett had departed. “Should give Bridgett a few surprises the next time she visits her uncle.”
AT THE SAME TIME...
Admittedly, Nigel was more than surprised about the gift he received from the SPO of the new prison facility he was assigned to. Like it was hoped, it was an 'open' facility nearer to London, and as the only vicar of the facility, he gained the rare privilege of having a cell of his own. Of course, he never expected what he gotten as a gift from Sir Integra – three sets of elegiacal vestments, something fitting for someone of his station.
“I must admit,” he said to himself, “a welcome change indeed!” Nigel then chuckled, “I guess I'll be giving the lads a little surprise this Sunday.”
END
AUTHOR'S NOTES – Just want to let you guys know that, if I made any errors in some of the facts in the story, I would appreciate it if you would let me know about it. Also, if anyone is curious about the word 'gaol', it is pronounced 'jail'. I thought it sounded British.
9/11/01
FDNY-NYPD-THE REAL HEROES