Disclaimer: All characters associated with Devil May Cry are copy righted to Capcom. Who actually reads these things anyway...

A/N

Righteo, I was about to post this, then I stumbled upon the Holiday Fanfiction Contest in the DMC forums. I changed it a bit, and here it is as an official entry. I apologise for any grammer errors, I checked it as best I could.Enjoy!

This story is dedicated to midnightair, who saw the first draft and encouraged me to write more.


Dante gazed up at the glaring neon sign.

'POLE KITTENS' it flashed in gold, blue, and green. He grinned. Dante had wagered a bet with himself that he could bed one of these exotic dancers by the end of the night, or at least have them swooning over him. It could be his late Christmas present. He caught his reflection in a mirror of water in the gutter. Silver hair, dreamy blue eyes, great body…what girl could resist him? Dante tossed his hair, watching it fall back into place,and stepped inside.

He was greeted with an array of sights and sounds that assaulted his senses. Shabby Christmas decorations were still strung up at odd places around the club. Booths occupied by busy couples lined the walls, while the main space of the club was taken up by three neon-lit catwalks; slim, silver poles reaching up from the ends of them. Cheap tables and chairs were dotted messily around the catwalks, filled with men young and old, brandishing beer mugs and paper money. Dante surveyed the scantily-clad women swinging off the poles.

The on the left catwalk was an exotic beauty, with long black hair and dark skin. She danced cautiously, apparently in fear of the constant hands grabbing at her ankles. Dante stepped closer. The woman in the middle was a slightly podgy blonde wearing a truckload of makeup and dancing rather crazily in a bid for attention. Dante's gaze shifted to the third catwalk where most of the men were gathered, and where most of the whistling was coming from. The dancer had short brown hair, a perfect toned body far surpassing the other two, and danced like water, her movements flowing in time with the pounding music. Dante felt his jaw drop.

"Lady?" he said in disbelief. It couldn't be her! Why? he thought. I never imagined her to be…she seemed above it…she must just look like her…hey, she can really dance…

"Hey darlin', how's about a private dance?" a particularly loud and drunken voice drawled from the side of the catwalk, snapping Dante out of his thoughts. The man was in his forties; he waved a fist of bills and actually started to clamber onto the catwalk. The Lady look-alike promptly kicked off the floor, spun around the pole, and slammed her foot into the man's face. Blood spurted from his nose as he tumbled away from the catwalk, the bills fluttering from his hand.

Before others could catch them, the dancer spun again, snatched the money neatly from the air, and stuffed it down - her red, knee-high boot. The surrounding men cheered, but looked more cautious than before. Dante's thoughts were confirmed. He had been on the receiving end of one of those kicks more than once, and what kind of pole dancer would opt of flat-soled boots instead of the usual PVC heels? Well, Dante was going to make his presence known! He smirked and slunk through the hooting crowd, keeping his eye on Lady. Dante still couldn't get over the fact of how well she moved. He arrived at the side of the catwalk and studied her more closely.

A new song began; it had a faster tempo with double-time drum patterns. Dante glanced at the blonde in the middle – she looked ready to pass out from exhaustion. He shifted his gaze back to Lady. Instead of trying to keep up with the insane speed of the music, she danced in half-time. She easily flipped upside down on the pole and held on with her arms while kicking out.

Wait – Dante shook his head and stared. Lady wrapped her legs around the pole and slid down until her hands hit the floor, then hand springed backwards. The crowd cheered. A wave of enlightenment washed over the half-demon. He had seen her do that move before – except she had been wearing (more) clothes and had pistols in her hands.

Clever girl, he thought. She was transforming and modifying elaborate combat moves into dancemoves. But just how many moves could work properly swinging from a single pole? Dante decided to find out. Swiftly, he grabbed her ankle. Without looking, Lady thrust her free foot towards his jaw in a well-aimed kick. Grinning, the devil snatched it as well and jerked her off balance. Lady gripped the pole to stop herself falling and swung round to her knees to face her attacker. Dante noted that she was wearing absolutely no makeup, but her brilliant bi-coloured eyes still leapt out at him, glaring.

"Piss off you-" she stopped mid-insult and stared. "Dante!" The half-demon winked and released her.

"Long time no kick, Lady." Lady leapt up and cart wheeled back to the pole to win back the crowd, who had booed her brief absence. She spun and dipped back precariously towards him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered before arching forward. She slid down the pole to Dante's height again.

"What does it look like? I'm here to nab me a babe," he replied, extracting a bill from his pocket and waving it alongside the others. She plucked the money from him and the other men and stowed it in her boots.

"Thanks," she mumbled to Dante. Lady curled back to the pole and danced some more, never missing a step, never seeming out of breath. Dante folded his arms and admired her. There was no doubt she was good, but – he hated to see her like this. He knew Lady well enough to know that this was a desperate scrounge for money. She would never exploit her body like this, to strip her femininity down tothe lowest common denominator. Hell, she hadn't thought twice about shooting him when he'd made the slightest suggestive comment. And now…

The up-beat song ended and the glitzy lights lining the catwalks faded. An angry roar erupted from the club;a male voice blared over the speakers:

"Just a few minutes while our dancers change shifts. You'll have new, beautiful ladies dancing for your pleasure in just a moment!" The dancers strode up their catwalks, collecting their last shreds of money on the way. Dante noticed Lady's boots to be considerably bulging by the time she disappeared behind the curtain.


Lady mopped her face with a scratchy, white towel and sank into the chair of her dresser. Her tired reflection stared at her with mismatched, blue and brown eyes. She had seen Dante.

"The devil that cried," she murmured to the mirror fringed with a tacky light boarder. She had last seen him a few years ago, when she was helping him decorate his demon hunting headquarters. She was the one that had helped him name it.

"Devil May Cry." A smile tugged at the corners of Lady's mouth as she pulled her sweat-soaked hair into a messy ponytail. Dante was a demon, but he had cried like a human when he lost his brother. And here he was at Pole Kittens, demonstrating another human male characteristic. Lady's budding smile died.

She threw a denim jacket over her satin indigo bikini and stuffed her belongings into a sports bag. Lady was contented enough to wear the (matching) indigo shorts she had on – after all, they weren't that short. Besides, they were one of her favourite pieces of clothing; she'd even worn them to Temen-ni-gru. And she wouldn't freeze to deathin the five minutes it took to walk to her apartment. She slung her bag over her shoulder and took one last look in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes were becoming a permanent facial feature, as was her pasty, pale skin.

I need a new job. And sunlight, thought Lady as she headed for the manager's office to collect her pay check. A flash of silver in the mirror caught her peripheral vision. Lady spun on her heel and sighed exasperatedly.

"You look hot with your hair up." Dante dropped into her chair and put his feet up on her dressing table.

"How did you get back here?" asked Lady, shaking her chocolate hair free to enjoy the look on the devil's face.

"I told them I was your boyfriend."(Lady made a face), "Oh yeah, you look even hotter with your hair down," replied Dante with a smirk. Giving up the hair battle, Lady put her hands on her hips. She had just been on her feet for three hours, putting up with grungy men that had nothing better to do on New Year's Eve than to oggle her, and now she had to deal with an arrogant, cocky demon.

"What do you want?" she said tiredly. Dante swung his legs off the dresser and rotated the chair to face her.

"I wanna know," he said, tossing his silvery white hair out of his eyes, "Why you're doing this crappy job. Come on, Lady, you can do better than this. Only whores with no brains work in these joints, and you don't fit either column." Lady stifled a laugh. That was the closest thing to a non-sexual compliment Dante had ever given her.

I may as well tell him, she thought.

"I need the money, and these 'joints' have customers that give big tips," said Lady, tapping her boots. "I'm…working my way through college." There, she'd said it. Lady waited for the torrent of sarcastic laughter and abuse to come tumbling out of Dante's mouth.

"Hey, good for you, Lady." That was all that came out. He gave her a thumbs-up. For the first time that night, Lady smiled.

"I have to go. Pay day," she said, turning.

"Come back here when you're done. I have a proposition for you," said Dante, mysteriously. Lady shrugged in agreement and exited the dressing rooms.

I hope its not a suggestion to earn more money through prostitution, she thought as she grasped the door handle of the manager's office. That I will not do.

To be continued...


A/N

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Next (and final) chapter up soon.