Hello I'm Shadow Wolf22 and I want to first of all thank everyone that review my other fic, and say that I'll have another chapter up soon and I would like to thank anyone reading this. Disclaimer: I don't own DMC, Capcom does, actually I own nothing except my non-cooperative OCs.

Demona: Who is he calling non-cooperative?

Donovan: This is not the time Mona, just wait until he's asleep! *wicked OC laugh*

The sun was an inferno of oranges and reds, as it fell below the horizon, setting the ally way leading to the oddly named establishment Devil Never Cry ablaze. Not only the ally way, but the establishment as well. Both were bathed in the fiery light of the fading sun. This had the strange effect of casting a shadow within the business, this in cause brought Dante Sparda to click on the small lamp adorning his desk where he was seated.

He was within the main room of the eight room, two story chateau, and he was bored.

"Damn, I should have gone," he grumbled to the newly illuminated room "I really should have. It would have been better than sitting around here on my ass."

"Anything would have been better than sitting around here." he grumbled, again in case the room hadn't heard his annoyance the first time. But as is the norm, the room did not reply to his frustrations. This left Dante searching for another form of release.

After a few moments of digging through his heavy oak desk, Dante found just that. A small leather sack, containing several keenly honed darts. Of coarse he didn't have a dart board, his had met with a small accident after Trish had managed to beat him twelve games in a row, but its pieces were all about and he could use the target practice.

Pushing back his rolling chair, Dante got to his feet and snagged a board piece from its resting place under his old drum set. It was about 4x4 inches and roughly triangular. Grabbing it between thumb and forefinger Dante let her fly.

He watched it for a few moments, as it sailed toward his target of the front door, then with a reaction time only his devil blood could have afforded him, he launched the dart. Like the board piece it sailed, but this was a much faster motion. One that sent the dart's golden tip into and through the four inches of wood that made up the air borne fragment. The dart in turn, continued, imbedding itself into one of the many skulls that decorated the walls of his office.

Dante frowned, it was near the top of the skull, just below the ceiling, and worst yet, and if he jumped for it he could very well knock the skull down. And Lucia would kill him, for the skull in question was one of the few among the walls that belonged to her.

She didn't really collect them the way he did, but she had kept this one, for obvious reasons. It was the monstrous skull of the creature that had once been Arius, Arius, her creator and the foolish warlock that had tried to absorb the power of the Devil god Argosax. Dante had thought the fool dead when he walked trough the portal to Argosax's Underworld, but later found out from Lucia that he had in fact taken a limited amount of the god's power into himself. He had then attacked Lucia, she lived, and he died.

Now he was adorning the wall of the Devil Never Cry. 'It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy!' Dante thought to himself, with a slight smile pulling at his features. That had been two years ago, and Arius's head wasn't the only change to his office in that interval. Now the entire room was now not centered as it had been for all the time he had it. Now it was pressed backward against the room's farthest wall, against the back wall, to make room for the other additions. Those additions being the two desks off to the right and left of his own, along with the weapons of their owners, resting on hooks behind either desk.

His darts all but forgotten, Dante sauntered over to the nearer of the two desks, then past it over to the wall where he took the time to look over the collection of weapons and their hooks, some of course where missing, but he was surprised to see that there where in fact so many. Swords, daggers, guns, lances, and even grenades hung from their resting places on the wall. Most where normal weapons, found or bought, but there were the occasional weapons of devil origin that stuck out among the group and one in particular caught his eye.

It was Sparda, the sword of the dark devil knight, his father's sword. He reached out caught it in his right hand, yanked it from its hooks, and gave it a quick twirl. 'Light as a feather.' Three quick thrusts, a stinger and, Dante's blood was flowing with adrenaline.

It had been two weeks since he had even lifted a sword and longer still since he had lifted the Sparda. Actually he hadn't held it since it had first unlocked his own devil form, way back on Mallet, because after that it had belonged to the owner of the desk. His first partner Trish.

Trish like Lucia was now a permanent fixture of Devil Never Cry, and an invaluable partner/ally. She was the only woman he knew that could give a smirk that could chill even him. She was a warrior and friend that meant more to Dante than he was willing to admit. Actually they both meant more to him than he would admit to them, or himself. This in itself was a reason he should have gone with them.

Still they had only went to Europe to take care of a few feral werewolves, which wasn't even a temp job for him, but again it would also have been better than sitting on his ass.

"I should have gone." he sighed to the empty room.

"Yes maybe you should have." Dante instantly turned, toward the unexpected voice. But there was nothing there, which instantly sent him on edge.

"Alright, come on out I'm not in the mood for games!" He shouted to the "empty" lamp lit room, and then turned only to be face to face with whom he could safely assume was the speaker.

He was a young man, maybe twenty, slightly taller than Dante with the same build, light cocoa colored skin, soft features, and as expressionless a visage as Dante had ever seen.

With a casual glance, he could have been one of a million guys in the world that was until Dante caught sight of his eyes and hair as he stepped from a corner of the room that missed out on the lamp's illumination. Both looked like the sky before a raging storm.

"Who are you?"

"Rain...Tempest Rain."

I'll continue soon...really.