A/N: Just a quick note to thank you for choosing to read this. I hope you are all intrigued so far. These first few chapters are set up as 'establishing' chapters, so hopefully I didn't make them too dry. I know, not a lot of dialog... that is to come! ;-)

Your thoughts and reviews are always appreciated, so as you read on let me know how you think this is going!

Enjoy!

N.

Chapter 1

Dante's Office

The night air was sharp and cold on his face as Dante sped down the highway on a large black motorcycle. He got off at the next exit, and darted around a few street corners. The motorcycle made a throaty grumble as he turned down a narrow back alley and pulled up to a large metal door. He pushed a small button on the key fob dangling from the ignition, and the metal door slowly squealed open. Before it completely lifted up though, he drove the bike into the garage.

Through a back door, Dante entered the Devil May Cry shop. The office was dark and quiet. He strolled in, his footsteps echoing off the hard wood floor, as he approached his desk and turned on a small lamp sitting on top of it. He then walked over to a corner of the room and hung his sword up on two large hooks that were curiously sticking out from the breasts of a pin-up on the wall. He then removed the tight black leather gloves he had been wearing and threw them on the desk along with his guns he pulled from their holsters. Dante then slid off his long red leather coat and tossed it on a near by coat rack. He stood there for a moment staring around the empty room. He ran a hand through his wind blown hair a few times from the rough ride home and stretched.

"Man, what a night," he said to no one. Not much action tonight, but who the hell was that guy dancing around with the demon? Dante then realized he was quite thirsty and headed to the kitchen.

The kitchen was small but adequate with bare necessities. A few uncleaned dishes, old take out food containers, and empty pizza boxes littered the limited counter top space. There was a tiny old stove in one corner that had not seen use for sometime and a small round table with two mismatched chairs was placed in front of a tall, skinny old window. On the side of that was a sink with a few more dirty dishes strewn around in it and an old arch top fridge sat in the furthest corner.

Dante walked up to the fridge and clicked the handle open. Light blared out of the fridge as he stared into its bowels and marveled at how little was in it. He pulled a dark bottle from the shelf and flicked the top open with his thumb. Dante then went back into the main room and plunked down in his favorite office chair. He thew his booted feet up on the desk and took a swig from the bottle letting out an 'ah' of approval over its smooth contents.

The office had little activity stirring inside it lately. Lady rarely stopped in anymore. She always seemed to be busy on her own. Over the years, she had made a good reputation for herself as a demon hunter. Now, she only bugged Dante if she had a huge job she knew she couldn't handle on her own. Which wasn't many. Dante thew back the bottle for another drink and grinned. He missed the brat. Over their years together, they had grown into a strange relationship. They became a kind of brother and sister to each other. Him, the older brother, who would relentlessly tease her about something and her, the younger sister, getting her revenge more often than not. They did have their ups and downs, but for the most part, the understanding was mutual and they had respect for each other – most of the time.

Then there was Trish. Trish had come into Dante's life just when he needed her most. Or maybe that's how he saw it. After the Mundus incident, he agreed to take her in as an assistant. Besides, now she had no where to go and she was new to this human world she had suddenly become a part of. Dante knew that he didn't need the help demon slaying – hell, he already shared that with Lady. But whether it was the maternal attraction to her because she reminded him of his mother he so missed, or the fact that she was just an attractive female, or the fact that she had risked her very life to save his, or maybe all of that, he decided to keep her around.

Trish surprisingly turned out to be what Dante really needed. Someone to look after him. Sometimes even the infamous son of Sparda needed someone to take care of him. Dante had always been a bit too irresponsible and carefree. He was always getting himself into some kind of predicament he didn't need, and was barely keeping the business from going under most of the time. He needed someone in his life as guidance, something he had been without for so long. Trish gave him anchoring and direction. She seemed to tame the devil in him – but only so much. She also managed the business well, and with her help, it grew steadily. One thing Trish could never seem to manage though, was Dante's debt. No matter how much money came in, he was always behind, owing someone something.

Whether or not it was because of those motherly characteristics of hers, Trish took care of him. They worked well together too. They also went on many missions together and had an understanding between them. They trusted each other. Soon, they became closer and realized their affection for each other ran greater than just partners. Dante and Trish had been intimately involved for quite a few years since then. But just as they started growing together, they started growing slowly apart.

Something happened. It began with the missions. Dante unknowingly became protective of her and didn't want her to go on certain missions saying they were to 'dangerous' and he'd prefer her not to be involved. Or he would manage to find some other simple task for her to take on to keep her from coming with him – knowing full well that she could more than handle herself. Being a construct of Mundus, Trish had abilities unlike a human and could withstand almost as much damage in battle as Dante could. He wouldn't admit it or maybe he didn't know it, but his love for her wouldn't let anything take her away from him. As he looked at her sometimes, he struggled with his emotions as he saw the mother he had lost and he didn't want Trish taken away like she had been. Trish tried her best to understand his concern, and even with her utmost reassurance that she would be alright, he wouldn't bend.

Slowly, Trish began to resent that which she did most for him – care. She just wanted to be a partner, an equal in his eyes, and not something of a treasure he needed to keep in a safe and lock away. She, like him, believed in fighting the demon world for the sake of this human one. It made her feel like she was part of it. She didn't want him taking that need from her.

The worst of the situation came when Trish wanted to try doing missions on her own. Dante adamantly disagreed. Now he'd be worrying about her on her own this time. Eventually with her persistence, and a little sweet talk, Dante bent and let her go on a few missions of her own, always making a big deal out of it before and after she went.

Eventually, Trish had enough. Although she still loved Dante, she couldn't take it anymore. She knew until he could get over his fear of losing her like he lost his mother, she couldn't stay. One day, not too long ago, said told him she was leaving. She wanted to try it out on her own. Dante felt his heart sink at her announcement, but he was too stubborn to accept his fear, and in turn, he didn't stop her. Before he got up that next morning, Trish had taken her stuff and left. That was almost two years ago.

They kept in touch from time to time, but the phone calls got fewer and fewer. Mostly hers. He would try to call and usually got to talk to a machine. Eventually he left it up to her to call. Now, she didn't call at all.

The quietness of the office eventually got to Dante, and he couldn't stand it. He threw his feet off his desk and walked over to the jukebox in the near corner and pushed a few buttons. There were some clicking sounds and he gave it a 'thump' on its side with his fist. Then the music started to play.

"That's what daddy likes," he said coolly to the music player.

It began churning out a fast thumping rock song as Dante bobbed his head and tapped his foot in rhythmic approval. He went back to his desk and thew himself into his previous position. He wagged his foot to the beat of the tune as he guzzled again from the bottle. Dante then eyed a magazine on his desk and remembered he hadn't gotten to it yet. He picked it up, leaned back in his chair as it creaked in disapproval and he began to read.