Purgatory

A person who has not passed through the inferno of their passions

has never overcome them.

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry is Capcom's. Set in the early stages of DMC4, probably while Nero was working hard… Lady's grown up now, so let's not treat her like a little girl anymore. This is just a (fairly) explicit one-shot. You have been warned!

The door to the darkened, rundown apartment slammed open as two figures knocked clumsily against the frame, entwined in an apparent struggle. The lights from a passing car below fell on the two as jackets and pants were ripped off – the girl's marine blue hair was most visible as she landed on top, kneeling over the male whose breathing was now getting increasingly shallow. Well, it was understandable that in the presence of all her naked glory, some people would have trouble breathing. Ignoring his guttural moan, she skipped the foreplay and went straight to town.

"Come on!"

She could tell he was trying, hard, but it did nothing for her. As usual. Craning her neck, she stared at the peeling ceiling. Another car passed; this time her eyes – one crimson and the other a startling cerulean – showed a calmness that was almost unsettling. She glanced at the guy, whose good-looking face was now contorted rather painfully, before closing her eyes.

Another dimension, another time, another person…

You want a date? Well, forget it. Because I make a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head!

That single thought wore her patience out completely. Pushing off his shoulders, Lady somersaulted off the bed, landing nimbly before walking to the window. A gust of wind cold enough to make her feel something blew in from outside. Stone-cold gravel streets, neighbors in their darkened rooms, bolted doors, dead streetlights. She was on her way to saving just enough to get out of his hell-hole – the mansion was going to be magnificent, but her heart was somehow with this rundown shack…

"What's wrong babe?" His voice dropped several octaves. Her muscles twitched. "And who's Dante? Why do you keep shouting that name? I told you I'm Bob!"

Throwing her arms back to stretch, Lady gazed up at the sky. A starless night. How fitting. Look up a dictionary for a definition of her life and it would just say: Bittersweet irony.

"He's someone whose name you shouldn't even speak."

Behind her, she could hear skin splitting apart, muscles growing, limbs extending and undoubtedly, a grotesque shadow thrown on the wall as light from another car flashed by.

She snorted. "About time."

She snatched the machine pistol from the table nearby, whirling around and pumping out countless bullets as the demon lunged towards her. Poor Bob. His thick blond hair was balding now, reptilian skin an ugly mass of brown, moss green and toxic orange. And there were probably five, six limbs but she had no time for details. Its tongue was flailing in mid-air – Lady crouched down, leaning against the wall below the window as the bullets continued to fly. With immaculate timing, her fingers caught hold of that tongue – moments before it had been exploring the area below her belly, but that no longer mattered now – and using its own momentum, directed it towards the window. As the demon passed overhead she gave it a solid kick so that it could break the window frame for a clear exit. Her finger didn't let go of the trigger even when the demon was already out in the open.

Lady was satisfied with that her jujitsu training was paying off – immersing herself in martial arts and meditation made her feel almost superhuman, and it filled her time schedule when jobs were slow. She'd never actually seen a demon thrashing in the air, bullet-ridden, and with a pink condom still attached. It was a peculiar sight. Lady shook her head, replaying the scene where she'd managed to get the contraceptive device on in a blink of an eye before things got out of hand. Fast fingers and reflexes were good skills to have.

Crossing the darkened room, she picked up the random bits of clothing that were lying around. She stopped in the middle of it, taking in the familiar smell of gunpowder. Her room was extremely sparse – a queen-sized bed with white linen, a wardrobe, a dressing table. OK, maybe not that sparse, since the remaining perimeter was lined with stockpiles of ammo, guns and knives. A spider about the size of her hand scuttled across the ceiling. Maybe it would be a better idea to clean the room instead of having random flings.

She'd grown up considerably in the last few years, after the demise of her last blood-related relative. Suddenly she was free to do whatever she liked: demon-hunting. Adrenaline, fun, thrill… and it was always better than sex. At least so far. Sure she had thought about going for the real thing, but her ego was holding her back. They were friends, so why repair something that wasn't spoilt?

Lady picked up her white jacket, running her thumb over an embroidered collar. The new outfit got reactions, no doubt about it. She liked it; it was a definite step-up from the plain shirt she threw on back in… Her thoughts froze. That chapter's closed.

I will only look forward.

Just when she reached the entrance, the door creaked.

Lady dropped the clothes but kept the gun up. "Round two eh?"

"Whoa-"

It was an unexpected visitor. The tall, strapping man with a ridiculously elaborate coat was staring into the barrel of her gun, but the second his ice blue eyes began slipping down, she pulled the trigger. Repeatedly.

To her surprise, Dante slumped down against the wall in the corridor, head bowed. Lady glanced at her new custom-made gun, impressed. It was working better than she'd expected; she could control it with a single hand now and close-range hits seemed extremely effective. Striding back in, she threw on a robe while wondering if using 'speak of the devil' to describe the situation was too much of a cliché. Returning outside, she'd expected to see him awake. Instead, blood was dripping down his cheek. Against better judgment, Lady bent over, brushing his ivory strands away to survey the damage.

A pair of cool blue eyes stared back at her, complete with a smirk.

"Boo."

Before she could react, he leapt up and hoisted her over his shoulder, storming into the room. She tried kneeing him in the chest, but by then she was already on the bed, arms spread-eagled with his hands holding her wrists down. Her legs were immobile: his knees were pushing her calves down. His face was directly above hers and blood was dripping from his chin onto her robe.

"Tell me if you like it this way," he said, leering. "I welcome creativity."

"Bastard!!" Lady screamed, her fury exploding past boiling point. She struggled to get out of his hold, but it was impossible. His strength was overwhelming and she knew no matter how hard she trained, her physical capabilities remained limited. "What the hell are you doing? Do you know this is sexual harassment bordering on rape?! Let me go!"

Wearing an uncharacteristically serious expression, Dante shook his head calmly.

"I won't do anything unless you want me to," he said, quietly.

Then he paused.

"Do you?"

She glared up at him, furious that she was being subjugated to this and feeling even worse that it was what she'd wanted – being alone with him. Just not her ideal position. But damn it, her body was responding to him the only way it knew how. She turned away, pissed off. The words that left her lips next shocked her as well:

"Don't think that just 'cause you can't find another demon slut, you can barge in here for a free fuck." But they expressed her emotions perfectly.

His reaction was placid: "You're different."

She glared back at him. Dante gazed out at the sky.

"I've met countless women from this world and the next. But few leave an impression like you do. What with the angst and all. But I'll admit you're damn impressive."

Lady rolled her eyes.

"If you're here to confess that I'm the love of your life, then you've got a thing or two to learn about respecting women and coming up with original lines!"

He looked confused for a second, then irritated. "If I let you go, you'd keep shooting me and we won't have a serious conversation!"

"Since when were you capable of serious conversation? And as a matter of a fact I want to pump bullets into your skull now!" she shouted back, wondering why it was always either an argument or a fight when they got up close. "Why the hell are you here? Just spit it out and leave!"

A blank look crossed his face. "Actually, I trashed Devil May Cry and now I have no place to stay. Trish left on one of her random trips and –" He stopped, noticing her widened eyes. He'd thought the red/blue iris colors were incredibly stunning, first time he saw her.

She couldn't believe her ears.

"Let you stay here?!" She was getting hysterical. "STAY HERE? WHAT DO YOU THINK I'LL SAY, DANTE?"

"Stop shouting, woman" he said, rearing back. "OK, another reason is that I don't want you to come on the next mission. It's mine, so I'll take it."

"I wouldn't miss the chance to see your brother again," Lady replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "He's got style."

"You're human, Lady," he said suddenly. She realized this was the same thing she kept saying to him, just reversed. His face was turned away, and in the darkness she couldn't really make out his expression. "It's not going to be easy this time. Like it or not, your time's running out."

"So's yours, smart-ass," she replied easily. "Even half-demons die."

"If you took the attacks I did, you'd be in the next world already."

It was a fact. But her ego spoke up; she was unwilling to lose the argument.

"But I didn't. And I'm not afraid to die. "

Below, another car passed by, throwing light on his face. The tenderness in his expression almost made her heart stop.

"I do; I fear your death," Dante said. "You showed me the road to redemption. With you I feel… normal… Human."

His attacks just kept getting better, didn't they?

"The things you'd say just to get laid; it's really amazing. I'm going with you, whether you like it or not. If I die, leave me and move on. I expect you to do it anyway."

He frowned at her, before sighing deeply.

"Am I really such a jerk to you?" he asked. "I can't even remember how many times I've saved your life."

"You're a demon, Dante." She said it as though it explained the meaning of life. The reality was that she was running out of ammo against possibly the only man in her world who could kill fear and make darkness bearable. What was really, truly frightening was how much good he had in him.

"The age-old refrain lives!" Dante exclaimed, exasperated. "If me being a demon is a problem then what was that thing I saw outside your window? I thought you would have to be really desperate to date a demon… or is sex a whole different ballgame?"

The floodgates were open now. She didn't know what to say, except:

"If you're so curious, why don't you find out?"

Silence.

His breath was on her face now; she gritted her teeth when his lips followed the tear trail down her cheek. Upon reaching her mouth, he went in for a heated kiss. She took up the challenge with no hesitation. It was like emotional cleansing, a purifying from fear, anger, hate, frustration... and better than she'd imagined. He withdrew slightly from her sudden aggression with a quick gasp and some pointless comment that she didn't hear, unconsciously relaxing his hold.

She sensed the loss in control like a predator whose timing was split-second perfect.

Maneuvering her lithe legs out beneath him, Lady flipped him over into a hold, straddling him across the stomach. From an unfamiliar vantage point, Dante's eyes were transparent but blazing with emotion – lust, love, whatever -- and his blood-stained lips were curved upwards in that familiar smirk. His hands found the bow on her robe, loosening it as he forcefully pulled her down. They met in an embrace fiercer than before. Violence and tenderness made an odd couple.

So he wasn't hers exclusively; how could something so beautiful be? It was OK, the world wasn't going to end, yet. She was on top of it, and she was going to take it all. This time she was the hunter, the one with the power, the one exploring relentlessly.

Something seemed to implode within her as she let things get way out of hand.

So… maybe demon-hunting isn't that fantastic…