well you may throw your rock and hide your hand

[suninhades]

Who: Integra Hellsing and Réjean Sept-Heure.
What: These fucking vampires on my lawn etc
Where: A Bar Of Ill-Repute.
When: The other day? Today? Sometime.
Notes: It's like a spy novel! But terrible.
Warnings: See: Who.

Someday, Integra thinks as she pushes open the door to the dingy tile-walled bar, she's just going to clock Réjean square in the face and force him to meet her in a bloody tea room, dressed nicely and sitting still. Not that anyone would ever bother her, even in this sighing, dilapidated place - dressed casually, Integra still looks a bit like she could (and would) just break any wandering hands - but it's the spirit of the thing, really. She finds a table, orders tea (ends up just drinking hot water and lemon), and sits with her back against the wall, waiting and tuning out the only semi-sober efforts of a handful of local musicians as they set about scuttling the cleared-off area in one corner that passes for a stage.