NOTE: Found this floating around on my computer. Can be considered to be slightly AU as it takes place around a year after DMC3 (disregarding DMC4 events, those haven't happened yet in here)

Prologue

One year had passed and life was somewhat normal at Devil May Cry. Well, as normal as it was going to get for a half-breed hell bent on getting paid for exterminating his own kind and monsters. With the abundant demon work after the defeat of Arkham and the set up of his agency, things were running smoothly, almost routinely, for Dante. And although the thought of that seemed mundane, he'd given credit to the latest addition that kept his body on alert of its potential dangers and made his brain fog over anytime it bent down, revealing tight booty shorts under a short skirt.

Lady.

With the addition of this luscious woman to his life, things were a bit more exciting. Their love hate relationship (love on his part anyway) had given them a base that formed their unique relationship. The constant flirting, intimate hand to face contact and endless insults were the sole means of communication in their friendship. However, they've been through so many battles together that those said actions could be looked over and ignored. In the year that he'd known her, Dante had learned that there was more to Lady than meets the eye. Inside her cold sarcastic exterior was a little girl guilt ridden with pain over the loss of her mother and father. He wasn't really good at emotional confrontations and left that topic solely in her hands. If she wanted to share that part of her with him then he would be ready.

Until then, he could keep himself busy doing what he did best: risk getting his head blown away if he so much as tried to say a sexist comment that would keep her in "check."

Yes, life was as it should be at Devil May Cry.

Yet.

Something within him was…missing. He couldn't just right out say what it was since he couldn't pin point the exact emotion he was feeling. But, whenever he fought and defeated a worthy opponent, an incompleteness, a sense of loneliness, settled inside of him. It taunted him. It mocked him. Just like he did when they were kids.

Vergil.

He receded back into his chair, placing his feet on the desk, as he traced his fingers over the smooth glass like texture of the ruby that was known as his amulet. He placed it flat on his palm, lightly tossing it up and down; liking the feel of its weight as he caught it.

Vergil & Dante

He frowned at the inscription.

Cursive lettering embossed onto sleek silver. Even the way their names were written onto the amulet was different, much like their personalities. Vergil's name was embedded with a sharp hand, giving the letters a slick, pristine slanted appearance. Dante's name was wide, sharp like Vergil's yet heavily entrenched onto the silver with a sense of heart. The letters looked less menacing and instead of slanting slightly, they let their soft curves flow easily across.

He let go of his amulet and placed his hands behind his head. He swallowed hard, trying to bring down the pang of guilt that was in the form of a lump in his throat.

Why did he feel like this now? Why didn't he feel free of the burden that hung on his shoulders? Why couldn't he be proud of the fact that the gates of hell were now closed and Vergil was behind them?

Why?

Simple.

No matter what Vergil did or had tried to do in the past, the fact remained that he was Dante's brother. He was his twin brother, the same being that shared a wound and a life with him before their mother died. Whether either wanted to admit it or not, they shared a bond that was thicker than blood, deeper than love or hatred. They were the same soul split into two different bodies and now that Vergil was gone, Dante's soul was incomplete.

A bittersweet smirk appeared on Dante's face.

They were the same soul yet they tried to over power the other. Even as children Vergil had a way of always getting the best of Dante.

The thought brought back memories of their final battle when Dante thought for sure that Vergil's defeat would be the inevitable sweet victory that he had been waiting for all his life. He wanted that saccharine taste to linger on his pallet until the end of time. Despite the fact that Vergil kneeled before him injured, the sweet taste of triumph was embittered as he refused to take Dante's hand. He refused to leave the infernal darkness that cluttered his heart; he refused to take Dante with him and so he fell. And as Dante saw the figure of his brother become a distant ghost beneath the darkness, he knew that Vergil had the proverbial last laugh.

The bastard.

Dante snapped out of his thoughts as a distant ring became loud and impatient. He sat up, guessing that the phone had been ringing for sometime now, and picked it up.

"Devil May Cry." His voice was lucid, sharp, the complete opposite of how his brain was running with thoughts and memories of the past.

"Took you long enough," an all too familiar voice spat annoyed.

He smirked and sobered up.

He imagined the scowl on Lady's cute face and licked his lips. He then brought the receiver closer to his mouth so that he could bring in a deeper, more seductive rasp to his voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't do gentleman calls."

"Since when are you a gentleman?"

He sighed and went back to his normal voice.

"I gave you the week off; I thought you would be enjoying your vacation." He leaned back. "Unless the time apart was too strong to bare without my handsome presence. If you missed me you could have just came back Lady."

"Dante, spare me," she said tired and irritated. He wondered then at the moment, what she had done that made her sound so worn out.

"Seriously, what's wrong? It's not like you to call. Did you pick a fight with a demon and now it's hell bent on destroying the planet again?"

She sucked her teeth. "You act like I'm some ruthless woman who can't go through life without leaving a trail of demon corpses behind her."

Dante thought hard about whether or not he should retort. Speak and get yelled at or stay silent and then get yelled at? He chose the latter rather than the former.

"Dante!" she yelled.

He couldn't help but chuckle. Sometimes he wondered why she'd let him get to her.

"You said it babe, not me."

"Anyway, I called because I know you have the day off tomorrow."

He perked up immediately.

"Oh how sweet. I'm touched you want to spend the day with me...in bed."

"No," she spat, through gritted teeth. Then she calmed down a bit and sighed. "I know that I've been gone for almost a week, and I know the place is probably decomposing with so much garbage…"

Dante tuned her out for a bit to look around. A soft layer of dust had become like a second skin on certain pieces of furniture, pizza boxes laid all over the floor almost becoming the floor itself in some areas. Empty beer bottles stood where any flat surface was made available. Their different labels and colors added a somewhat decorative tone to the dim lit agency.

"It's not that bad."

"When you say that I worry if I can make it across the room without something gross latching onto me."

"Oh come on, all you have to do is shoot and jump out the way," he said, eying suspiciously a pizza box that moved.

"Yeah, but when I shoot you, you always come back and latch right back on."

"Very funny Lady," he said, rolling his eyes. He took out Ebony and aimed at the box. It stopped moving sensing danger. He shrugged and put the gun away.

"Dante, I'm coming tomorrow to help you clean up the place."

"Do I have to? As my woman, it should be second nature for you to come to my every beckoning call which includes cleaning the house, shutting up every once in a while, opening your legs when I feel like screwin—"

Since Dante had very sensitive hearing, he could hear Lady's back teeth grinding into each other as she tried with her all might to hold down the slew of insults and curses that threatened to leave her now growling throat. If he concentrated long enough, he could faintly hear a tiny voice that said 'you better agree or I will find a way through this phone to appear before you and gut you alive.'

"Fine, I'll help." He said nonchalantly. "But on one condition,"

Lady sighed. "I'm afraid to ask, but I'll humor you. What Dante?" she asked dryly.

"If you wear one of those sexy maid outfits and call me master."

The dial tone was her only response. He hung up as well not seeing anything wrong with his suggestion.

He sat back satisfied that he'd gotten her blood pressure up a certain point before noon.

He honestly couldn't fathom why she stayed for so long. If it wasn't for his company then why was she around? She was able enough to go out and hunt demons with her impeccable skills. Staying with him would only make her mission of eliminating every single demon paradoxical. She can help wiping them out, but staying in one place, with a half demon no less, won't help the situations happening else where that he can't cover.

Perhaps Lady's cold heart was thawing a bit and she indeed had grown to like him. He wondered if her feelings would ever go beyond the platonic level where he was waiting. He wondered if she knew how much his spine crawled with electric bugs every time she looked at him.

On the other hand, knowing her and her 'I don't date demons' commandment, she would never admit to any amorous feelings towards him.

In a way he could agree with her to some extent. He's a demon, a demon with the same demonic blood as the being that fascinated her father to the point of obsession, obsession that led to her mother's murder. His undeniable heritage would forever be the barrier that separates him for her, the barrier that makes him less human to her.

Would she flinch in disgust if he were to touch her? Would she be able to look past his demonic image and stare into his human eyes in acceptance?

He bit his lip gently and wondered.

If he were fully human, would she be able to accept him?

The phone rang, bringing his mind out of the clouds.

"Devil May Cry," he answered in a dark rustic voice.

It was another job.

note: Thanks for reading :)