Author's note: It's funny how inspiration can hit after reading a couple lines of text. As always, DMC belongs not to me, but to Capcom. Please read and review!
Snack Time Gone Wrong
If there was one trait Lady had plenty of, it was stubbornness. For her, stubbornness meant getting things done or having people respond in satisfying ways which resulted in either no loss of life or eardrums as was the case with screaming, demanding clients calling on Dante's work phone. Naturally, the downside to never giving in was constant frustration. Arguments going on endlessly, for one thing. This happened more so with people who upset her, one of them being a certain blue-coated son of Sparda.
Vergil may have returned from Temen-ni-gru in one piece and he may have been staying with Dante at the his office but he was still an arrogant ass. The perpetual disapproving glances he shot at her boiled her blood. Sure, he always finished demon-extermination jobs before she did and with much more ease, but she was human! Jobs wouldn't always be done in a blink. And just because Vergil was half demon and had destructive powers, that didn't give him the right to traipse around like he was king.
Lady lounged on the semi-clean couch in the corner of Dante's work zone, Devil May Cry. Her laser glare bored onto Vergil's back as he strode past her to the kitchen. His booted heels tapped on the wooden floor, the occasional creaks beneath his feet evidence of his purposeful stride. Whether or not he noticed her slightly caustic look, he said nothing.
The floorboards continued to whine in protest when Dante moved around at his desk. He was -in a rare instance that Lady dared not disturb and chose to watch with interest- cleaning up the pigsty. Stacks of folders and papers cluttered the desktop, hiding most everything else that was on it. Discarded soda cans and empty cardboard pizza boxes sat on the floor in a stacked and neat pile.
Vergil returned with a strudel on a plate. A random stroll from Dante a week back had him discovering a new bakery that had opened two blocks away. Upon finding a companion to his morning coffee, Dante bought a charming box of cherry strudels which currently sat on the kitchen counter. They were charming in the sense that everyone gravitated toward them. While Vergil claimed he didn't like them very much, Lady could've swore he delighted in those babies as eagerly as Dante did. Dante the glutton practically cheered with each bite. Tact prevented Vergil from bursting into chorus when he ate one. He didn't understand the point of exclaiming like a child; food was sustenance. One time, Lady saw him bite into a delectable treat and his eyes closed longer than an eye blink to savor the sweet flavor. That was a sign of enjoyment, she supposed.
"You're tidying up. There's hope for you yet," Vergil said in approval to his brother. He went to the couch Lady was on and was about to seat himself when he decided to take off his long coat. He set down his plate on the table in front of them, then proceeded to remove the cerulean drapery. He wore a dark navy vest underneath.
From Lady's vantage point behind him and to the side, she observed the shiny fabric sweep down his toned arms. Her eyes flicked over them briefly. Sometimes she did the same when Dante went shirtless. She never gawked or cat-called like the lunatic Dante sometimes did when he saw her in the mornings. That was plain unrefined. Discreet ogling was a woman's prerogative. To her chagrin, Vergil didn't leave to talk to his brother like she hoped. He settled down beside her. She pretended to stretch as she scooted farther down to the arm of the couch. In the corner of her eye, Vergil crossed one leg easily over the other. This motion irked Lady.
Dante grinned modestly at the compliment his older brother had given. "Thank you, thank you. You're too kind." He turned an endearing smile to the woman. "Are you impressed?"
Lady felt her lips quiver into a smirk in spite of the prickly feeling towards the presence next to her. "I will be if you get through all those files tonight."
"Pssht. The two of you are so negative. Positive energy, remember? It's good for business." He made a rolling motion with his hands, then ducked behind his desk to mess with something neither Vergil or Lady could see.
With no demon hunter to watch scurrying the room, Lady instead snuck glances at the other living being. Vergil preferred to focus on his plate to watch for any stray crumbs heading south on his clothes. Yeah, like that would happen. Vergil, being messy? She smoothed out a wrinkle on her white buttoned shirt and traced the hem of her black skirt. Lady pulled out her pistol from her thigh holster and idly inspected it for damage.
A soft breath of a scoff came from the snacker. If Lady had been paying full attention to her gun, she probably would've missed hearing it. Her head swiveled and she frowned at Vergil. "What?"
He didn't meet her challenging stare. "It's nothing."
Lady felt her ire rising at his laconic answer. "C'mon, say it."
Vergil made an unnecessarily presumptuous and wordless show of finishing his strudel. He took measured bites, likely sensing the growing impatience building within her. He reveled on the knowledge that she was anticipating his reply and that only agitated Lady further. He picked up the napkin that rested on his lap and wiped his fingers of grease. He finally stared straight at her. "Do you truly enjoy using such a barbaric weapon as a gun to fight?"
Stupefied, Lady couldn't believe her ears. "What??"
"Hey!" uttered a similarly offended voice from under the desk. Dante popped his head over its edge and stared at his twin.
Vergil pinned him with a silencing expression. Dante, unfazed by the look and busy with whatever mess he was working on, shook his head and went back under. Cold blue eyes swiveled back to her.
Lady thought briefly about the question. "Yes, I do like using guns. And they're not barbaric. These have class."
Vergil threw back his head and laughed, rich and loud. Sound remotely resembling a chortle from Vergil was so seldom heard by Lady that she gaped. The twist of anger in her stomach was funneling wildly like a tornado, but despite the debris of confusion and anger, a quiet voice in her head admitted that his laughter didn't sound entirely repulsive. She derailed that train of thought by blurting testily, "What's so funny?"
"Your words." He set aside his plate on the large table in front of them and picked up his sheathed Yamato sword propped next to his arm. Removing the weapon from its scabbard, he held up the polished blade for Lady to inspect. "This is class. Take a good look."
Lady glanced at the sword in disinterest. An odd color on it made her snicker.
Vergil noticed her strange reaction and his fine eyebrows knitted together as he spotted what she saw. Red splotches lined the silver edge. He sniffed it, then growled. "Dante, you used Yamato to cut pizza? How dare you!" He leapt up, ready to take off his brother's head.
Oh no he wasn't! Dante was cleaning! Did Vergil not understand how monumental that event was? Lady grabbed his arm to stop him from charging at his sibling. He roughly wrenched his arm away and the razor edge of his blade grazed her forearm. A thin line of dark red spread on the fabric of her pristine white sleeve. One split second of potential remorse almost softened the hardness in his eyes but it was negated by a yelled curse from Lady. Her scathing glare could cut tin cans in half.
Vergil's expression took on a haughty look. "If you had kept your hands off me, you would have been fine."
He wasn't apologetic at all! She clicked off the safety of her pistol and its muzzle leveled at the half-demon's forehead. "So much for class. You can't keep your sword from butchering innocent bystanders."
A muscle tightened in Vergil's jaw. He was insulted; Lady felt smug satisfaction.
"I know how to handle a sword." His arm pointed the tip of the Yamato at her throat. "Shall I demonstrate?"
"Please do, you freak!" Lady had wanted to kick this guy's butt for a long time. Even if she was human, one boot at his rump would suffice nicely.
From behind the desk, the owner of tousled silver hair stood. "Whoa, what things a guy misses when he's behind the desk. And you two, you're scaring the goldfish." Dante balanced a fishbowl in his hands and placed it on a cleared corner on his desk. The pet was four days new. Lady had wanted something normal decorating the office besides skulls of recent kills that oozed with blood or other nasty body fluids. She had expected a negative reaction from Vergil, but surprisingly he didn't mind the goldfish. There wasn't much initial reaction from him but as the aquatic animal became a centerpiece for windows and tables, he did peer at the swimming fish on occasion.
Naturally, Lady wasn't thinking about any of this with the distraction of shining metal aimed at her gullet. "Shut up! We're busy." She spoke to Dante but glared at Vergil.
"You'll do well to stay out of our business, Dante," Vergil agreed, not moving his eyes off Lady.
Lady pulled the trigger. Vergil sidestepped the bullet. He reversed his sword and poked the hilt in her waist. She whirled to shoot him and Vergil slid to her other side and again jabbed at her waist. She stared incredulously at him. "What are you doing?"
"Having fun." Yamato slid into its sheath.
"You? That'll be the day." Lady fired at Vergil, bullets whizzing. He dodged them gracefully, as if participating in a strange dance. His left foot slipped on a stray paper on the floor. Lady thought, all right, but her happiness faded when his body blurred and vanished. He had teleported right over her head. Lady instinctively ducked but remembered that wouldn't help avoid a heavy boot heel in her back. She rolled to the side and bumped into the damn couch.
Vergil, still suspended in the air, swung his scabbard at Lady's hands. He effectively enraged her when it connected with the pistol she held. The gun clattered away on the hardwood floor. She saw the empty plate on the table and snatched it. As Vergil landed in front of her with the fluidity of a panther, Lady flung the plate at him. She dove for her gun. Vergil deflected the plate by holding up his sheath like a shield. The force of the hard ceramic against his barrier shattered the plate. Jagged pieces flew and Vergil grunted when a shard nicked his bare shoulder.
Lady, having retrieved her gun, gasped when she saw the bloody mark. The plate wasn't supposed to break like that! "I didn't mean it," she said as a way of apology.
A predatory gleam sparked in his icy eyes. "And yet there's a cut that stings enough to prove that you did do it."
"Can't you accept an apology like a normal person?" Lady yelled, leaping back on her feet.
"I'm not normal." His blade was already drawn and the tomato stains that were so funny before now looked threatening. Red, glinting, like past kills.
Lady swallowed hard. Air rushed by her face when the blade swiped by her cheek. She backflipped next to Dante's beloved drum set. Both she and Vergil understood that there would be hell to pay if something happened to them. Hell in this case meant money, which neither of them had an abundance of. Lady took advantage of that fact and dove at Vergil's legs, hoping to surprise him. Surprise she did when she rolled past him and not at him like she knew he expected. Before the half-demon could face her, Lady exuberantly swung up her foot and kicked him on his rear. Oh yeah! She heard Dante chortle.
Vergil snarled at him and whirled around to Lady, obviously not very pleased. She lifted her foot again as if to strike at the same spot, only he was facing her way now. That meant a new body part to smack and an extremely sensitive one at that. Vergil the indomitable reluctantly took a step back. He wholly understood the painful consequence to her boot connecting to the front of his pants.
Lady Luck was on her side; Lady silently laughed at her pun. She leapt forward again and rammed at his shins. Vergil grunted and toppled over. He fell on his back with a resounding thud, nearly cracking his skull open on the sharp edge of Dante's desk on the way down.
Triumphant, Lady pinned his neck with her free hand. With her gun hand, she jammed the barrel of her pistol in his mouth. She jeered at him. "Guns are quick, compact, and oh look, I can pull the trigger if I want to. It'll take a demon's life faster than any sword can do. What do you say to that?" She eased the gun out of his mouth to let him speak.
Maliciousness curled up his lips despite what was an irrevocable insult to make Vergil taste a firearm. "Could you do it, little girl?"
Lady felt a flash of irritation at being called little. "If Dante weren't around, I would!"
The snide smirk on his face illustrated his confidence even when he had fallen. Fury erupted within Lady and she shoved the gun muzzle back inside Vergil's mouth. How could a son of Sparda be so freakin' stuck up all the time?
Vindictiveness surged into Vergil's steely eyes. He didn't break his hold on Lady's vision and she wondered what was going on inside that mind of his for him to muster up such an evil glare. Her index finger itched to pull the trigger.
A moan came from Vergil, low and sensual. The vibration from his vocal chords skittered up the metal of the barrel to her hand. Lady was so bewildered that she flushed in embarrassment. Her brief hesitation resulted in her vision tilting sharply away from the lying form on the floor to the ceiling when Vergil blindsided her with the hilt of Yamato. Its thick handle connected solidly to her temple and the force of the blow slumped her over in pain.
Vergil easily rolled out from beneath her and handspringed to a standing position. There came his trademark smirk and that condescending twinkle in his eyes. "You were saying something about being fast?"
Dante, a mere spectator to their blood sport, gave his brother a thumbs-up. "Boy, I didn't think you had those noises in you."
Dizzy and pissed off, Lady shakily rose to her feet with the help of the edge of Dante's large desk. Pistol still in hand, she fired a barrage of bullets at Vergil who was just bumped up to number one on her "to kill" list. Dante came a close second.
With inhuman speed, Vergil windmilled the Yamato blade in front of him. The spinning effect cushioned the impact of Lady's bullets and the capsules of metal bounced harmlessly to the floor. If only her trusty Kalina Ann were with her; she would've loved seeing him fly back at the force of the explosion. Maybe see his coat on the couch singe. Her rocket launcher meant business when she got raring. Too bad the weapon wasn't in here. Nor her waist bag belt. All she had was her lone pistol.
A greenish sword materialized in front of Vergil, then another. The glowing weapons suspended in the air, hovering uncomfortably close to Lady's face. Lady grit her teeth. He was playing unfair!
Well, so could she! She stumbled across the space to the desk where the fishbowl sat. Ignoring Dante's puzzled stare, she plunged her hand in the water and extracted the slippery goldfish. She hurled it at the smiling moron.
The spirit swords shattered without contact and Vergil held out his free hand to catch. Whatever was his reason was for doing it, Lady couldn't guess. His distraction had Lady hurdle the distance between them and she pointed her pistol at his forehead. By the time she moved her arm up, his sword was leveled horizontally at her throat.
"This isn't fair." Vergil balanced the goldfish in his free palm, taking care not to squish the creature between his fingers.
Breathing hard, Lady rolled her eyes. "Says you."
There was no response. Both of them stood frozen, studying the opposite's expressions to decide who had the better fate. Unfortunately, Vergil had the upper hand of longevity and endurance because of demonic blood flowing through him. Lady wasn't going to back down, anyway! He wasn't going to get satisfaction from her giving up! "That blade will rust if you stand there too long."
"Your bullets will run out on you," Vergil replied matter-of-factly.
Lady smirked. "Our fishy friend will die if you don't return it to its home."
Vergil grudgingly watched her. His left eye faintly twitched. He gradually straightened and lowered his sword. He sheathed it, then mutely walked past her and slipped the goldfish in its watery home. He went to the kitchen.
Lady silently groused at his abruptness. Dante, who was leaning back in his chair, chuckled. "What?" she asked tiredly.
"Look at this!" He swept an arm over his desk.
She stared blankly at it. Piled folders, a row of pens, his Ebony and Ivory pistols laid side-by-side, and an assorted bunch of CDs of the edgiest rock music one could be subjected to, among other possessions. She didn't get it.
Dante filled in her mental blank with an answer. "Nothing! That fight must've been the most tidy fight I've witnessed. My fights have broken tables and busted lights, but the only thing busted was a plate! You're paying for it, by the way."
Lady sighed, but she was cheerful. She did get to kick butt like she wanted. She went into the kitchen where Vergil was. There was gauze in there with her name on it and she sure as hell wasn't going to have him use up what meager amount was left on the roll. She'd know; she used it last week.
He said nothing as he fetched medical supplies from a cabinet and set them down on the counter. Oh, so he had to use the stuff? He was probably doing it to spite her. Lady waited for her turn behind him. While she did, she rolled up her sleeve to examine her cut arm. The wound wasn't deep, but it stung a lot. The pain didn't register during the heated fight.
Vergil turned around, surprising her. Sitting in one hand was a roll of bandage. His other hand reached over her injured arm and Lady quickly drew it back as though it got burned.
"Your injury," Vergil murmured as explanation. His gaze was riveted on the wet blood on her sleeve.
Lady eyed him cautiously and swiped the roll out of his hands. "I'll do it myself," she told him mulishly. She began to pick at the sticky tape with her fingernail.
"Please."
She halted. It was one word. Quiet but genuine. Lady blinked in wonder. He was acting considerate. Maybe she shouldn't be a jerk and bear witness to yet another event in the world of Sparda which was equally as monumental as Dante's organizing: Vergil not insulting her. Eventually, she rolled her sleeve higher. She raised her arm in silent agreement.
He picked up a bottle of antiseptic and poured some onto a cotton ball. This moment was the prelude to pain. A gulp came from Lady when the sharp smell reached her nose. She hated the stuff. She should have been used to the rubbing alcohol from all the battles she had fought in. Getting cut up was almost a requirement for fulfilling a decent job.
Vergil intently cupped her arm and the shock of his steady fingers on her skin made her a little dizzy. Or that could've been blood loss. No, she couldn't have bled that much. Well, she was breathing faster than normal since she was fighting. Maybe she should breathe slower- The fuzziness in her head was instantly cleaved when the alcohol contacted her cut. A burning sensation ripped through her arm. She visibly started.
"It'll sting," Vergil said needlessly.
Lady grunted. The urge to light up the contents of that foul bottle had never been stronger. Thankfully, the flaming sting began to wane and she exhaled a relieved sigh. Vergil continued to apply gauze to her arm and wrap her forearm with the long bandage wrap. Once he finished, Lady flexed her arm to test it. His wrapping job was pretty good. She didn't want to admit it, so she said simply, "Thanks."
Vergil inclined his head in acknowledgement and faced back to the counter.
Lady stood there behind him awkwardly. His arms moved and her eyes traveled up the defined ridges to the stain of red on his shoulder. Oh, great, guilt. She moved next to him and held out her palm.
He studied her, a questioning expression on his face.
She gestured at the roll of bandage he held. "I'll fix you up."
He glanced at her outstretched palm, then back to the supplies. "I'll heal. Besides, I didn't plan on using this to start with."
Surprise tugged at Lady. So he meant to help her out ever since he stepped inside the kitchen. Intriguing. The arm that Lady offered lowered and she turned away in time to hide a twitch on her lips. She moved to head out of the kitchen.
"You didn't name it."
Her feet stopped. "Hmm?"
"The fish. There's no name for it yet."
Amused, Lady replied, "I'm not good with names." She thought of the name Dante created for her in Temen-ni-gru. At the thought of him, Lady peeked out past the kitchen doorframe to where he was. Dante was making fish-lips at the bowl. What a goof. She smiled at the scene. "No worries. Dante will think of one."
-- THE END --