So this is the result of me thinking that I should write something except yaoi for a change, lol. Still, it has no straight pairing in it. Sorry to all you DantexTrish fans.....I just don't write for the pairing. This happens to be a one sided TrishxDante. Who isn't returning the feelings? If you know me, then it'll be obvious without reading, lol. Anyway, I hope this story is decent. I wrote it while I was doing my Psychology test.....at 2:00am last nightO_O It may end a little quick, but this is my first attempt at this sort of thing. Reviews are like crack!! Help feed my addiction!!

Disclaimer: I do not own DMC, its characters, concepts, etc. I merely add my own , fucked up twists.

Uh...no warning unless you don't enjoy cursing.

I watch him laugh and make jokes with Lady. I watch his succulent lips morph into a smile; the smile that I love to see. He still entrances me. He grabs his beer, turning his gaze upon me.

"Join in the fun, Trish!" He holds up an unopened beer, motioning for me to join their game of poker, "The more people, the more fun!"

If only he knew the emotions that I hide from him. Fun isn't something to be had. Happiness, as much as it seems that I have obtained it, is an ever eluding dream. Even though every minute with him is great, it is also testing. "Don't complain if I beat you".

"You wish, babe."

I wish, at times, that he wouldn't call me that. I'm fully aware that he means nothing by it; he even calls Lady by that same name. My mind has this game it plays with me. My mind takes his meaningless words and turns them into a combined, sharpened dagger that glints menacingly at me before it slashes into my heart.

"I've got nothing",Lady sighs, "At this rate, I'll be the one owing you money."

"That is what I'm aiming for, sweetheart." His eyes settle on me and I feel my heart sink in my chest. "Show me what ya got".

I smile even though my thoughts are racing in my head. I put down my cards and laugh at the expression that graces his beautiful, manly features. I place a hand on his, patting it softly. "Better luck next time, huh darling?"

He snorts, "Whatever".

It's a shame I let him get to me so much. I've always known there is no chance for me. From the moment he told me I look like Eva....that I remind him of her in certain ways.....I knew hope was lost.

Yet, I still find myself scrounging it up and having it smashed again.

He deals again and, this time, I've got a crappy hand. I take a swig of the beer he has given to me. He's rather good at keeping a straight face. I can't tell if he's got something good, or if he has a crap hand. He chugs the rest of his beer and clears his throat, "So?"

Once again, Lady folds. She grunts, "Motherfucking poker".

"Sore loser", Dante says. He looks at me, "Care to try me?"

Oh, yes. I would love to try him. I've dreamed of him, I've wished for something from him, and I've watched him for so long. I've seen him in pain and I've seen him happy. I have seen him triumph over obstacles and I have watched him just be his incredible self.....

"Trish? Quit thinking dirty thoughts about me and show me your cards", He smirks.

I roll my eyes and pretend I'd never do such a thing, "Don't flatter yourself. Two Pair."

He smiles, showing me a Straight suit. He wins again. I take the opportunity to excuse myself and I walk outside into the chilled, Autumn air. I stand in the small, dingy excuse for a backyard and stare absently at the stars. I wonder if Dante ever thinks about how I feel? I doubt he does. I hide it from him. I've never given him the slightest clue as to how I long for him. It hurts me. I shiver slightly, rubbing my bare arms. He's been there for me. He's been the only one to truly care about me. The door opens ,and closes, behind me and his familiar presence fills the air. Just that makes me smile. I don't bother to turn around. "Lady going home?"

"Yeah, it's past her bed time". He stands beside me, "Stargazing, huh? I never liked it."

I shake my head, "The stars never liked you."

He laughs, "Oh, in that case, I'll make sure to send them an apology letter for all the times I never looked at em."

I simply roll my eyes and snort at his joking, never looking at him.

"You're being awfully quiet, babe", he lays a hand on my shoulder, "Something on your mind?"

He is. He is always on my mind. I think it, but I don't want to speak it. I shrug, finally turning towards him. His eyebrow is raised.

"Me? Now why am I on your mind?"

I scream at myself in my head. I let it slip out without realizing it. I didn't know what to say, so I laugh. It isn't the best way to handle the situation, but my brain is working against me.

"Funny, funny". He walks in front of me. His expression is that of curiosity and concern. "Look", he says to me, "I haven't said anything, but I've been gettin' all kinds of weird vibes from you lately. What's bothering ya?"

I give him that stare that I give him when I think he needs to shut up. To my relief, if works and he throws up his hands.

"Fine", he backs away, heading for the door, "None of my business, I guess."

Again, my lips betray me and I call for him to stop. He does, the light from the lamppost making him look even more handsome. I walk to the where he stands on the small, concrete porch and cross my arms. "Why are you so interested?".

He laughs, flipping his hair out if his eyes as he leans his weight on his right leg. "Aren't friends supposed to look out for another?"

Friends. That's what we are. That's what we always have been. And, as much as I don't want to say it, that's what we always will be. My heart keeps telling me to try, though. Whatever my brain tells me, my heart counteracts it. I stand against the railing, my back to it, and gaze at each brick that makes up Devil May Cry.

"Come on, Trish", he says and comes to my side, "It isn't like you to let things get to ya like this."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately", I say. I've actually thought about it for such a long time, but to say it would be no good.

"No shit".

"Look", I sigh, "It would disturb you". I return to my position of leaning against the rail.

He laughs and pats my back. "Babe, I've been to Hell and back. Do you really think it would disturb me?"

I close my eyes and quietly say "Yes".

He grows quiet for a moment and I feel his eyes trying to bore into mine. I don't let him. He lays his hands on my shoulders and makes me look at him. It is like he is looking into my soul. I've said it before, but it is more intense now. I look away from him, pulling my body away from his strong arms. I can't hold back my tears any longer. I let them fall silently down my face. He makes a small noise, then sighs.

"Trish, don't do this".

I wipe my face and look back at him, "Don't do what?"

"Don't cry. I hate it when people cry." He stands beside me, "Come on. I know something is tearing you up inside. You can tell me."

Before I realize what I'm doing, my lips are meshing with his and I'm pushing him against the brick wall. I love his smell, his taste, and the warmth of his body against mine. My hand roams down his chest, stopping just above his belt buckle. I trace my fingers along the silver, only to have them stopped by his. I pull away, breathless, silently scolding myself for doing such a thing. Yet, my heart is beating so fast and it is hoping that he will pull me back to him; I hope for him to feel the same as me. I finally look up to him to see his eyes averted to the side, his hands keeping mine from him.

"Don't", he whispers.

I'm reeling though I don't show it. I knew this would be the reaction, but I wouldn't listen to my own voice of reason. He pushed my hands back to me, gently, and he sighs.

I whisper, "I'm sorry".

He still averts his gaze. "This is what's been pre-occupying you?"

I don't answer for he already knows the answer.

"I care for you, Trish", he says, "But, not this way. I can't. I just", he pauses, "I can't."

I feel tears threaten again and I let them flow freely in front of him. This time, I also feel anger along with my disappointment. I feel angry that I look like her; that I look like Eva. I am a copy. I ball my hands into fists and leave them at my sides. "I never asked to be a copy, Dante. I never asked."

He looks at me and I see pain in his eyes. Normal people wouldn't se it, but I do. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops and rubs the back of his neck.

"Of course you didn't". He looks at me and bites his lip. He sighs, "And your not just a copy."

I laugh and feel as though I could shoot him in the head. "I am. In the end, that's all I am. I look like her, I sound like her, and there are those stupid, small little mannerisms that I'm sure are similar. You look me in the eyes, Dante, and tell me that I'm not just a copy!"

He look me in the eyes, "You're not just a copy".

I blankly stare at him and he continues to speak to me.

"No one is ever just a copy. Sure, people look alike, talk alike, have the same little quirks, but they aren't just copies". His gaze is caring. "Trish, listen to me. You've been through so much. We both have and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love you." I give him a look and he nods. "I do, Trish. But", he pushes my hair from my face, "I love you as my friend. I'm sorry", he pulls his hands from where he had put them on my shoulder. He pauses for just a moment, then says, "No, I'm not sorry".

I stand still.

"I'm not sorry for being your friend". He looks at me and smiles. "Aren't you grateful to have someone who cares? I know I sure am."

I cry again, but it's because he's made me realize something; I should have been thankful I, at least, had someone who cared enough to save me. I shake my head. My heart had always beat with the anticipation that ,one day, Dante might share my feelings; my feelings of desire and of need. But, lo and behold, I should have always been thankful that I wasn't cold, alone, or dead. Even if I can't have what my heart had always wanted, I have him as my dearest friend. He saved me back then, I saved him. Isn't that enough? Is it wrong of me to want more?

"Trish?" He says softly.

I dry my eyes, laughing as I do so. He give me a strange look, but he knows I'm coming around. "I had to give it a try, right?"

He rolls his eyes and his voice is slightly frustrated, "Trish…"

"I'm only kidding, Dante". I clear my throat, looking into his icy blues, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"Hey, it's history, right?" He pats my shoulder and opens the door. He still looks a little dark, but I know it'll pass by morning. "Don't stay out here too long, 'kay? Don't want you catching cold."

I laugh and he goes inside. Alone, I try to jam it into my head that I should always keep his words in mind.

His friendship is enough. Yes. This is enough.

This has to be enough......