A/N: Since I wasn't doing anything today, I had some time to is my gift to you.
Disclaimer: I am not Hideki Kamiya, therefore, DMC is not my creation and I hold no claim over it. Just wanted to make that clear.
Mistletoe
.
.
"…and they all lived happily ever after. The end."
"…"
"…"
"How in the hell…" the raven-haired demon huntress started through a deadpanned stare, "was that supposed to be a happy ending? They all died."
Before Vergil could open up his mouth to retort, Trish sprung to his (unnecessary, in his opinion) defense, "It's a happy ending because now they can all live peacefully in heaven…or wherever it is you humans go after dying a painful fiery death." She ended, waving about a hand carelessly.
"Supposedly heaven, if you're lucky."
"Then that."
"No, you see, Trish, that's where you're wrong," Dante cut in, talking around a mouthful of BBQ chips, "'Cause I know for a fact that that little boy went to hell."
"Yeah," Lady instigated, crossing her arms under her plentiful bosom and consequentially pushing them together appealingly- an action that did not escape the half-devil's notice, "You can't set two turtledoves on fire and expect to get accepted into the Golden Gates. Besides, he was the reason why the partridge and the pear tree caught fire, and the cause of the house blowing up at the end." Dante nodded along in agreement.
"That's right. Which means, in conclusion…" he trailed off with a smirk, popping another chip into his mouth as he slanted a look at the milky-skinned beauty sitting beside him.
"That your happy ending is invalid." she finished off with a smug smirk of her own.
"So, suck on that!" Dante crowed.
"Bitches."
Then, to rub salt into an already open wound, they high-fived, which only served to earn them an eye roll from a highly bemused Trish. Although that mattered not to them. Because everybody knew that winning against Vergil was very few and far between, and any acclaimed victory had to be rubbed into his face every time it happened.
And since the eldest Son of Sparda knew this, he for his part only let out a long-suffering sigh as he slowly unsheathed Yamato, the newly bout of quiet going unnoticed by him as he set the heirloom onto his lap with one hand and pulled out a white cloth and polishing equipment from seemingly nowhere with the other.
Setting about cleaning his most precious possession, as that usually did well to help clear his mind, he missed the slackening of tense muscles of the pair next to him and the disappointed pout that decorated the face of the blonde demoness.
Why he put up with being forced to accompany his brother and his companions to celebrate the upcoming holidays with when they didn't even appreciate his output when it was grudgingly given, he could not comprehend. He would much rather be out by himself roaming the cold, dark streets of Capulet City causing misery to the unfortunate souls he came across, than be where he was at the current moment.
"Anyways," Lady said, coughing into her fist at the dark aura surrounding the eldest white-haired twin, "What was up with that story? I thought we specifically agreed on Christmas stories. That sounded more like something fit for Halloween." Frowning as she uncurled her fist only to find it sticky with BBQ chip residue, she unceremoniously wiped her hand off on Dante's shirt, ignoring his protests as she did so.
"Like you're one to talk." Trish scoffed and reached over one of the many bowls of snacks settled on the coffee table to pluck out a gingerbread man. "What with your tale of a rabid Rudolph-"
"Hey, there's no such thing as a reindeer with a red nose that has nothing wrong with it!"
"-and a rampaging snowman." she continued on. Raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow cynically, she awaited the excuse for that one, all the while nibbling quietly on her treat.
"…'Frosty' sounds like the name of a serial killer." she finally confessed.
With a snort, Trish let the matter drop, instead finding herself immersed with the argument that was sure to come when Dante refused to do the same.
"Well, if you asked me, I'd have to say Lady's was the lamer of the two." Dante commented as he continued to brush crumbs off of his shirt, earning a nod of approval from his brother and sending Lady on the defensive. "At least his was more realistic."
"Oh, please," the huntress sneered, turning her full attention to him and trying to ignore the fact that they were now practically nose to nose. Why the hell was he so close anyway? "I don't even want to hear that from you of all people when you didn't even get to finish yours."
"Only because you guys couldn't handle my awesome plot and creativity." he shot back indignantly.
"Your 'awesome plot and creativity' put Patty to sleep." With a thumb, she gestured to the sleeping teen curled up snuggly against her left side.
He frowned at that. "That's just 'cause she can't appreciate a good story."
"It was a story about flying pizzas, Dante, how in the hell was that supposed to be any good?!"
Unable to form a proper comeback to that, Dante settled with a half-grumbled "Tch. Whatever." and then, after mentally declaring his shirt a lost cause, proceeded to grouchily stuff another handful of chips into his mouth. "…just jealous…"
"If you say so." Mismatched orbs rolling exasperatedly as he continued on with his mutterings, she left him to sulk silently, turning instead to the blonde whom had been watching the spectacle with utmost amusement. Damn bitch. "It's your go."
"About time." The blonde muttered. Finishing off her cookie and brushing some crumbs off of her shirt, Trish settled back into her seat, crossing her arms over her midriff and looking proud of herself although she had said nothing yet. "This is a good one." she boasted, earning more than a couple of eye rolls from her friends.
"Would you just go already." Dante complained, still sour from his earlier quandary.
"Do not rush me. Good stories, like mine for instance, take time. Not that you would know that, of course." She couldn't resist jabbing.
"Why you—"
"Now, hush like a good little boy while I tell my story, alright?" Ignoring Dante's menacing glower, Trish cleared her throat and promptly started her tale. "It was a dark and stormy night—"
"Why you gotta start off with 'dark and stormy'?"
"Lady, if you would?"
"Of course." Wrapping one arm about his neck, Lady dragged him down into her chest as she planted a hand over his mouth, the fact that Dante didn't put up much of a fuss at the compromising position going unnoticed by her. "You may continue." She said, gesturing to the demoness with an open palm.
"Thank you. Now, as I was saying," Sending the half-devil a scalding glare, one he did not care to catch as he was too busy snuggling up against Lady's bosom, she once again began to speak. "It was a dark and stormy night, and all through the house, nobody was awake. Not even a mouse."
From her spot on the couch, Lady blinked slowly before furrowing her brow. Was it just her, or was this story sounding very familiar?
"A pair of cheap socks were hung by the fireplace with care," she continued, "In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be th—"
"Wait." The huntress interrupted. Meeting the blonde's questioning look with her own incredulous expression, Lady inquired, more than aware of Dante's shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter, "The main character of your story, Trish. What color is he?"
"He's green." She answered simply. "But," she cut in when she saw that the female was about to argue, "He wears a hat."
"…"
"It's a Santa Clause hat."
"Yeah, I'm done." Releasing Dante from her hold, she reached over to shake Patty awake, later finding the action unneeded as the half-devil's loud bout of laughter did the deed more than satisfactory as baby blue eyes blinked open groggily.
"Wait, why're you done?" She asked with a frown, "I was barely two sentences in."
"And that was all I needed. I know the poem you were ripping off of, and I'm pretty sure that if you had gotten far enough you would've made a How the Grinch Stole Christmas reference." Trish huffed in response to that, reaching over to the table to snag another gingerbread man.
Dante leaned forward, settling his bowl on the table and brushing his hands off as he continued laugh. "Stealing material from Dr. Seuss now? I think that's a new low for you."
"Mine was still better than yours."
"Say what you want, if it makes you feel better."
"I will," she brought the gingerbread to her mouth and very violently bit its head off, all the while holding his gaze steadily. "And it does."
Dante, if possible, laughed even harder.
"What's so funny?" Patty enquired as she rubbed at her eyes, her voice laden with sleep. "Did Dante finally figure out how lame his story was?"
He couldn't have turned on her fast enough if he tried, "You wanna start something?"
As an answer, she stuck her tongue out at him.
"You little-!" he scowled, reaching across Lady in an attempt to get the teen. Needless to say, he was foiled.
"Would you knock it off?!" Lady demanded, putting herself between the two. "Dante, stop!"
"Why're you telling me to stop? She started it!"
"Really? You're gonna play that card? How old are you again?" Raising a disbelieving eyebrow condescendingly, she watched as he paused in his efforts, his gaze sliding onto her own and holding for a few seconds until he ultimately backed off, albeit reluctantly.
Watching until his mouth dipped into a frown, she then turned on the smiling blonde, reaching up and unceremoniously pinching her cheek. "Quit being such a troublemaker." She chastised softly, chuckling under her breath as the teen only continued grinning up at her.
Shaking her head slowly, Lady ruffled her hair affectionately before pushing herself onto her feet. "Let's go, Patty."
"Where're you goin'?"
"Home. Thought that would be obvious." She answered briskly, not sparing him a look as she walked to where her boots lay, and careful as to not accidentally brush up against Vergil as she passed him. She swore the smallest things set him off sometimes.
"Why, though?" Dante persisted, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning into the back of the couch as he watched her lace up her right boot from beneath his bangs. "You're coming back tomorrow, right? So, just stay here tonight." he reasoned.
"No thanks," she snorted, going to work on her left boot, "The last time I stayed over, you crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night."
"So what?" he shrugged. He didn't see anything wrong with that. "It was my bed."
"You offered it to me for the night."
"Yeah, well, I got cold."
"Dante, it was summer and you had the A.C. running. What did you expect?"
"That you wouldn't hold it against me?" he offered with a raised eyebrow. Hearing her scoff, Dante uncrossed his arms, later lifting himself over the back of the couch to make his way to where she was currently slipping her coat on, garnering a sharp gripe from Patty as he was sure to pull on her ponytail when he passed behind her.
"Because, you know," he continued, seating himself at the edge of his desk as he watched her button up her winter coat. "Sharing is caring and all that good stuff. Plus, you're always taking stuff from me. Was sharing just a little bit of body heat seriously too much to ask for?"
Finishing up the last button, Lady brushed her bangs to the side and gave him a look. "Is that the best you can come up with?" she asked, straightening out her collar.
"…Yeah, kinda." He admitted, not looking the least sheepish about it.
"Of course it was." Bi-colored orbs rolling exasperatedly, the huntress walked past him and to the door, digging into her pocket to pull out her keys and not paying any attention to heavy sound of boots on wood until they were right behind her.
"Hey, Lady."
"Huh?" Turning to look over her shoulder as he called out, she found herself startled as she came face to face with half-devil. "What the—?!"
"Look up."
She did. And as she immediately caught sight of the parasitic plant hanging from the doorframe, held back the urge to wince. She found that urge even harder to detain as she felt her back press into wood, the door behind her a sharp reminder that there was no escaping from her inevitable fate. Dante only made the notion more true as he planted a hand beside her head, the other holding steady at her waist to effectively trap her in.
Reluctantly turning her gaze back onto him, she scowled as she found him grinning down at her; perfect white teeth peeking out from between two pale lips as his icy orbs crinkled at the edges.
"You're serious?" she asked, because even though she was positive of the answer, she just had to be 100% sure.
"As a heart attack." He replied, his hand tightening at her side. Watching as she glared further, he glanced down towards her mouth, his eyes slipping shut as he leaned in to catch a taste of her plump, pink lips.
His eyes instantly snapped open again as he felt a finger press against his mouth, stopping his descend.
"First off," the dark-haired beauty began, her expression cleared of its previous scowl and now at deadpanned, "That's not mistletoe. That's holly."
"Wha—?"
"Second," she interrupted, unwilling to let him finish, "If you're going to try to use a plant to get a kiss out of me, the least you could do is get it right. I find it highly offensive otherwise. And for three; your breath smells like barbecue chips. I wouldn't have kissed you anyway. Back up." And as she pressed a palm against his chest to get him to do just that, he did, because he was just too stunned not to.
"Patty."
"Right!"
Pulling on her last glove, Patty hopped up from her seat, smiling brightly as she took in Dante's dumbfounded expression-served him right for pulling her hair!- and brushing past him to make her way out into the cold, winter night, Lady one step behind her.
Still standing dazed at the turn of events, Dante was barely able to hear the roar of a motorcycle coming to life, before the sounds of raucous laughter broke out behind him.
Oh, that was right. He had had an audience. He had forgotten about that.
He needed a drink.
Sighing as his lips pulled back into a snarl, Dante turned a glare onto his last two witnesses, finding that his brother was no longer polishing his sword and was instead turned in his seat looking amused a great deal at his misfortune, and finding Trish laughing through a face stuffed with gingerbread men. "It's not that funny."
"Oh, but it is, dear brother," Vergil crowed, looking at his younger sibling as if he should have known better to assume such a thing. "Because that is mistletoe."
"What?"
"Didn't you know?" The demoness teased, "Mistletoe has white berries, while holly contains red ones. Mistletoe: White. Holly: Red. What color are those berries, Dante?"
A quick glance at the source of his bad luck dangling from between the two doors innocently led him to discern that those berries were not red.
They were white.
"Okay, wait," He said, looking to the white-berried plant, the door Lady had just exited moments ago, and back to them. "So, you're telling me—"
"That that is indeed mistletoe." His brother quipped, not looking at all sorry for him.
"And yes, Lady has just screwed you out of a kiss." Trish added unhelpfully, breaking out into another fit of laughter.
"Damnit!" Cursing viciously under his breath, Dante raked a hand into his hair irritably as he started for the kitchen, the mocking laughter of his brother and friend doing everything to grate on his already frayed nerves.
Screw 'a drink', he needed the whole damned bottle.
A/N: Aww, poor Dante, I'm always picking on him, but don't worry, I'll make it up to him one of these days. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this, and hopefully it doesn't feel too rushed or too slow at times. Please don't ask me to elaborate on their stories, I didn't actually have anything planned for them, and it was just complete and utter bullshit on my part to get this fic moving. Although, I know I can come up with some stuff if I really wanted to. Heheh~ Well, that's all I have to say. To anyone that reviews or faves my fic, this is my thanks in advance. Thank you for reading!
Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays!