I don't own DMC, INSERT WITTY COMMENT HERE. Hope you enjoy, and xXxzeldaxXx rocks mah frilly jocks, TehOdd Xoox

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Vergil's General Point Of Viewing:

How on earth had this happened? Under his very nose?

Vergil Sparda was usually very low key when it came to emotions.

Sure, he was capable of feeling - small bits of happiness, and humour, want, lust, greed, need - but he was a demon, and that was to be expected. He was usually very controlled, and calm, no matter if he was fighting demons or his brother.

But this was not the time to be low key, nor controlled, nor calm. This was not the time to even contemplate the outcome of his actions, nor what his actions might very well be.

Vergil Sparda was pissed.

Emily - the Eastern Queen of Hell - had taken his Angel.

Raging, Vergil tore the picture from it's place by the floor and held it up to his face, his palms vibrating violently with the strain he had put on his muscles to stop triggering.

"Emily." he growled into the glossy paper. "Give. Her. Back."

He heard a frenzied giggle, then saw the paper tear itself in two, a dark grey smoke rising from the split. As it rose to the roof, it became more solid, until it was in the general form of a woman.

The smoke turned a deep, black tinged red, until the Queen's pale face was visible at the very top, giggling madly down her nose at him.

Vergil growled and dropped the paper, so that she was his height.

"Hullo Virgie!"

"Give. Her. Back." he snarled, going to rip her throat out, but finding his hand swiping through the smoke.

Of course, smoke wasn't able to be seized, no matter how realistic and solid the Queen of Hell chose to make it look.

"Aw, but Virgie, my wuv!" the blonde beamed at him, flashing all her pearly whites to try and allure him. "I missed you so vewy much! And I want you to shove you're little Virgie into my-!"

"Give. Her. Back!" he snarled, throwing useless punches at the smoke. He was throwing the first tantrum he'd ever thrown, and he was feeling rage and hate and regret pumping through his veins like a burning liquid.

He threw jabs, and uppercuts at the horrifyingly beautiful woman, hoping that his fist might just collide with her feral smiling face if he just swung hard enough...

Aware he was making quite a fool of himself, and getting no where by standing here swinging his fists like a complete idiot, he took a deep breath in, and curled his fingers into his hands, feeling the sharpened nails pierce his skin like paper.

"Give. Her. Back." he repeated, glaring directly into the blonde's dancing red eyes.

"But Virgie, how can I bang you if you're all hot and bothered with her around?" she asked him, her feather light arm snaking around his throat. "I just need to borrow her, just for a inside whittwle bit, just to learn what makes you wanna bang her, is all." she said chirpily.

"I. Want. Her. Back." he said between gritted teeth. He could feel each bone into his gum line cracking, bleeding, then repairing. It was a hopelessly long cycle, and it was bothering him horridly.

"You'll get her back, I promise." she said in her mock baby voice, pinching his cheek and cooing at him like he was four years old instead of a completely capable man.

He growled, and tried to push her away, succeeding only in making him the fool once more.

"Tell you what!" she said brightly, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. "I can give you a few moments with her, if you want." she said, smiling.

"I. Want. Her. Now." He repeated, feeling the crazy need to stomp his foot.

"But you have to give me something in return, Vergie-Smergy, pugin pie." she said slowly, advancing and wrapping her smokey arms around him.

"Just give me back my Angel!" he bellowed, causing her to recoil.

She looked up at him with a pout on her glossed ruby lips, and jealousy in those glowing red eyes.

"But Vergggiieee-"

He snarled and tried to lunge at her, but she was smoke, and he forgot that fact.

"Fine!" he hissed. "What must I do for these moments with her?"

"Kiss me." she said hopefully, standing up straighter. "You'll have to come down to Hell and really truly kiss me, and don't worry about Diago or Jacinta, I'll hide you." she said sweetly.

Ah yes. thought Vergil bitterly, making a face. Diago. How I hate him so.

Diago was - apart from Dante - perhaps the only person between the both worlds that had the slightest chance in killing him or overpowering him.

A very rare bred demon, who had been mostly taken out in the early thirteen hundreds. Very little were born and raised beyond ascension these days - the manuscripts and ingredients were hard to come by and the signs of said demon being raised were very noticeable.

The type of demon was named: Beiwulf (say: B-Ay-Wolf), not at all similar to it's cousin, the Beowulf.

In it's human form, it manifests and attacks as many of its host's family as it pleases. It usually attaches itself to one, and takes care of he/she like it's own offspring.

Weak. Pathetic.

He hated their kind with out the slightest hint of doubt. He had hated them from his boyhood, only beginning because his father loathed them for killing and beating as many humans as they did. But some things never changed...

"Will you kiss me to see her, Virgie?" said the blonde, snapping him from his thoughts like a broken rubber band.

"I wouldn't dare touch your filthy lips." he snarled, jabbing a finger at her in warning, though his heart was absolutely screaming for him to hurry up, take the deal and crush Angel in to his arms rid the taste of vermin from his lips.

"You sure Virgie?" she said, her voice dropping, becoming more suggestive and...pure evil is how he thought of it, though he'd never admit it aloud.

"All you have to do is lean in, breathe in my scent...Or I could just kill her." she said abruptly, sighing. "That would solve all of my proble-"

She never got to finish.

Vergil had inhaled as much of the smoke as he could on short notice, and it had started to burn his insides, not unlike the sensation of inhaling nicotine for the first time.

He coughed, then fell onto all fours, holding the base of his throat to stop the horrid, all too human noises currently choking him. His head was spinning, he saw her smile, then her grin, then nothing - he was spinning, spinning too fast to feel anything properly, and he knew that -DAMNIT! - she'd pulled him down to Hell, and he didn't care momentarily, because he was going to see Angel again...

A light in his chest flared, which hurt more than anything he's ever known, lighting up his cold heart like a thousand brightly glowing stars - and he knew he'd lost it, everything that made him, him, in essence. He knew it like he knew what Angel was to him : his kryptonite. He knew that like his father before him, he'd fallen for his human side, his emotions, and even though every part of him was screaming 'THIS IS VERY, VERY BAD!', he wanted nothing more than to sit with his Angel, curled up at his side, warming his icy demeanour until he melted, he didn't care if he melted, as long as she would hold him while he did so...