Thanks to everyone so much for their reviews. I'm so happy people like this. Chapter 2 is mostly more interaction between the two, in Vergil's POV...the action and story picks up in 3, however, so bear with me. Thank you for reading!

Vergil stared at the girl before him. That was all he had been capable of doing ever since he had been foolish enough to share his blood with a human-in a pact, nonetheless. If he had not been in such a state of shock at being caught off-guard in his butchering of Arkham, perhaps he would have been able to kill the foolish girl with great enthusiasm as well.

And yet…why had he lied and told her he still needed aid in his plans? He watched the strange girl as she slowly flipped through the leather bound, dust-caked tome her father had carried only an hour before. Vergil found himself relishing the look of horrified disgust that almost comically contorted her innocent, childlike features as she skimmed the book's rather dark innards. It was almost like watching some virginal, angelic being come upon an object soiled with blood and profanity, her eyes averting from the book to suddenly-

"What?"

The huntress's almost angry tone of voice caused Vergil to scowl. If he had been more absentminded, he would have jumped at the girl's quickness in reacting to him. It was strange that she could catch him off-guard; all the humans he had ever come into contact with had pitifully slow reaction rates, realizing only a breadth of a second before his Yamato sliced into their bones that they were even being attacked, let alone approached by him. How could she do such a thing so effortlessly; did she think him a fool? His pristine orbs narrowing as he faced her, his mouth a stern line upon his face, he retorted sharply,

"What is the matter, girl?"

At his words, edged with hostility as they ricocheted across the wide hall, the human scowled in return. Her bottom lip emerged in an exaggerated pout, her scarred nose wrinkled, brows knitted above her narrowed eyes.

"I have a name, you know!"

"Really?" He replied smoothly, though slightly irked by the woman's forwardness,

"And why does it matter? You remain Mary, regardless of what I refer to you."

At once, the woman's lip curled inward, reminding him of a diseased dog about to strike. Her fists clenched beneath the gloves that held them, white and trembling, grip tightening to wrinkle the pages of the heavy tome lying dormant in her hands,

"Don't call me Mary! Call me…"

She hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly to herself, as if to confirm her alias to her contemplating thoughts,

"…Lady."

The son of Sparda watched her carefully, curiosity ebbing at any lingering aggravation he may have had. As the word had borne itself from her lips to exist in the air, it seemed almost flowing; almost sacred to her.

"Lady." His lips caressed the word as if savoring it. Profanity. Disgusting, the taste it left on his mouth.

Mary had symbolized an innocence that made her seem almost childlike, naïve; a girl trapped in the chambered nautilus of a woman's mind, merely tainted with the prospect of her lust for vengeance; a goal the only thing marring her silly human innocence; her disgusting yet intriguing mortal morals. Yet, Lady…well…that was clearly suggesting something quite the opposite.

"Tell me, Lady…" He murmured quietly , gauging her for her reaction as he did so, "What are you trying so hard to hide?"

In an instant, Lady's expression shifted from disgruntled irritation to shock, her multi-colored eyes widening to that of iridescent saucers, looking too big for her tiny featured face. Those eyes seemed to possess her in their shock; transfixed, staring at Vergil for a long time, before she finally folded her arms before her chest-a sign of defense, to be sure- and scowled at him,

" I'm not hiding anything! And besides, what does a demon like you care-for a human's secrets?"

The childlike killer's words were frozen in icy bitterness, yet for some reason they managed to sting his apathetic heart. Vergil found himself feeling unexplainably irritated; his innards tightening painfully like a violin strung too tightly, ready to snap with unexplainable, terrifying quickness-perhaps it was because he killed all who had ever spoken to him this way? (All but his idiot brother, that is-but even that would come in due time). He wasn't sure if he would spare her after her murder of Arkham (yet did he really believe she would live that long, through so many ordeals?), but he certainly wouldn't allow her brash young tongue to snap at him now…

But what was this feeling in his chest; as if her words were embodied in the form of a blade, striking toxic and deadly, straight through his gut-through his heart?

Pain.

No. Humans couldn't cause him pain; he was better than that, stronger. He was more powerful, numb to the stupidity and sickening delusions of emotion-of weakness dribbling from the mind like blood, ready to break those who willed it to flow until it became fatal. But why did her words puncture his guarded mind; reduce the strengthened fortress of his heart to a frail, withered organ?

For a moment he savored the revulsion marring Lady's face, the heaving of her chest, the smell of blood exploding in what could only be unfettered hatred; the crying of her pathetic little heart…

And yet the realization seemed to make the sting in his own body more sharpened; blades becoming axes digging deep within his soul. If she thought she could speak so rudely toward him…that she could hurt him…none spoke to Vergil in such a fashion. None who wished to live.

"Don't think for an instant that there are no loopholes in our deal," Vergil found himself hissing softly, a snake whose coils had been bitten by an all-too rebellious mouse, "Just because you managed to persuade me of your pitiful plea for mercy doesn't make you any less human, Lady."

The half-demon awaited her response, fully expecting a reaction from the tight-lipped, glaring girl. An eternity seemed to pass between them, the thick air almost mirroring the tension in their fixated stares-yet to his bewilderment, there was nothing but a heavy sigh from the demon huntress. She slowly hung her head, drooping her shoulders as if an anchor had been lowered onto her body-yet Vergil could only bring himself to sneer softly, a frown adorning his alabaster face. He was not sneering at Lady-though she obviously interpreted it as such, for her eyes seemed to spew forth toxic from their pupils-yet at himself.

He should have been feeling the satisfying smugness that came with hurting any disgusting human, but a strange and curious emotion struck a hollow chord within his heart. Quickly, Vergil whipped around so that he no longer faced her, deciding the damnable girl's sadness must have been addictive, unhealthy, and reached forward to place a hand on one of the double doors before them,

"There are demons lying in wait beyond these doors. But this room…is quite…peculiar; different than any other we may encounter. I don't want to risk exhausting your little mind with such information, so why not let you see for yourself…Mary?"

Lady visibly flinched at the mention of her name, raising her head slightly to glare at Vergil, her eyes glowing embers that could scorch him if he came too close. The demon didn't know why he was so intent on upsetting her; perhaps it was simply more fun to play with a feisty pet; watch them squirm as you prodded them, always in the upper hand. Yet as his blood warmed with the satisfaction of jarring her nerves, her soft voice caused it to suddenly boil within his veins,

"That's funny. I would have thought your mind would be a little simple too, with that human blood in your veins."

The bitch.

His mind went blank; exploding with a sudden wrath, a bloody distortion of enraged emotions bubbling within him in hot venom, spewing from his body in the blind flick of his wrist towards the sheath at his side; the gleam of Yamato, white hot and winking with malice. As he tore it forward, the reflection of the girl's eyes marred its surface, something his mind hissed to replace with blood-caked satisfaction. The piercing sound of the blade as it ripped through the skin of the air; a hungry beast shrieking for blood, for flesh, for bones as he brought it down, down, down-

The reflection of her eyes in Yamato's polished surface. Her eyes, filled with fear.

He stopped.

Vergil swore beneath his breath, his pumping blood slowing in its veins; his silver hair in disarray, sweat falling in droplets down his skin-

The bladed edge of Kalina Anne flickered before him; their clashing weapons the only source of light in the otherwise dim hall. His labored breathing mimicked her own; their chests heaving, their eyes wild and overflowing with a sudden, subdued madness threatening to burst forward in the slicing of their weapons into one another's flesh. The gleaming tip of his Yamato had been so close, so damned close, poised ready to strike at the tip of her chest, straight between her collarbones-

Was it he who had stopped himself from hurting her…or was it her quick defense?

He didn't want to know.

The truth would scare him more than any trickle of emotion passing through his heart; any sliver of pain in his body. A long, labored sigh escaped his lips as he rapidly pulled his blade from its position, trapped between the holds of Kalina Anne, sinking back within the skin of its sheath with a defeated hiss. Sweat dribbling down her face, her neck in glistening droplets, the trembling Lady brought her own weapon to her side, allowing it to stand sentinel to her shuddering body-she refused to sheath it, yet it was something he found to understand.

Something he could almost respect.

With a last, frustrated growl towards Lady's direction, standing so intact and alive behind him (even when she had insulted him in such a way that had brought death to all those before her!), Vergil turned towards the twin doors coaxing him forward, brought his hands upon the cold yet inviting handles. It was better to place their frivolous encounters behind him-he couldn't let such weakness mar his goals; the glory that lay ahead of him. The beautiful vengeance.

He couldn't even wonder why he had let her live, for the infinite time this day.

As the doors obliged to his gentle touch with their resounding, heavy yawn to life, Vergil entered the darkness before him, allowed it to embrace him, clarify his mottled senses for only the goal that lay ahead. The girl's footsteps echoed in quick staccatos behind him, yet he could smell her uneasiness like defecation to the darkness. It was disgusting, followed by this little bitch, this stupid puppy at his heels-

Yet he couldn't help but see himself reflected in those multi-colored eyes.