Author's Note: Theme for this week was "Numbers"

Enjoy!

"Twenty-Something"

In which Vergil is overwhelmed by demon paperwork, and Ashira's asks a distracting question.

Vergil could feel Ashira's restlessness, and had for hours. But, to her credit, she was doing a spectacular job of hiding it.

It was late, even by demon standards, and the two had retired to their room mid-afternoon. That alone was unusual, as they were usually quite busy with "royal duties" (whatever those were) for days at a time, and were often forced to rest by their various attendants before they ran themselves ragged.

But this time was not for rest, as Vergil had done nothing but read since returning to this room. And it wasn't the kind of reading he enjoyed; not in the slightest. But Pythagoras had been nagging him for at least a week now, and Vergil, who had grown tired of the demon's voice, had finally agreed to go through whatever documents the demon was so desperate to share. He almost regretted it when Morpheus apologetically dumped a massive pile of scrolls, letters, and other documents on his desk. Vergil had gawked at it for about half a second until his stubbornness kicked in and he resigned himself to his fate.

For a world full of demons and magic, ruling involved an absurd amount of paperwork.

Go figure.

Halfway through his fifth document discussing some kind of proposal for something (he'd have to start over on that one), Ashira finally gave up and said, "How old do you want to be?"

Vergil paused at that, staring blankly at the paper in front of him. Eventually, he forced out a, "what?" as he glanced in her direction. Ashira was splayed out on the couch with her purple dress draped along the floor. One arm danged off the side, and the fabric hanging from her wrists was bunched up. It might have been amusing if he wasn't in such a sour mood. "Why didn't you change?" He said.

She shrugged without looking at him. "Just in case."

There was a long moment of silence, but he sensed her question rolling around in her head. Vergil sighed as he set the papers down. "How old do I want to be?"

"Yep," She said.

"What kind of question is that?"

There was a slight pause, in which she rolled off the couch into an unceremonious heap. Somehow, she navigated out of the massive amount of fabric and found her way to her feet. He might have thought her drunk, except he was fairly certain she had never partaken of anything like alcohol. This was, however, how she often acted when she was tired. "You didn't have to stay up," He said.

She waved at him dismissively before wandering to his side. "I know we mentioned it ages ago, but humans ask me all the time." Her arms draped over him as her chin rested on his shoulder. That couldn't be comfortable, but he didn't bother trying to move her. "And I never know what to say."

Vergil frowned. They hadn't been back in the human world for at least a month. "Have you been thinking about this… issue for long?"

"Like twenty minutes."

"... Why?"

"I ran out of things to read."

Vergil snorted. "You've made it through all 20 books already?"

"You've been working for almost eight hours."

"Maybe you should have restrained yourself."

He could practically feel the eye-roll. "You're avoiding the question."

"It's nonsensical."

"To you maybe," She said. "But I'm thinking ahead."

"For what, exactly."

"Just imagine," She said, one arm snapping out in dramatic fashion. "Fifty years have gone by. Just enough time that everyone we know that isn't demonic has grown old, and long enough that we would, theoretically, be dead. But, of course, neither of us has changed much, so we're wandering around like this forever."

"What are you getting at?"

"If someone asks you how old you are, what would you tell them?"

Vergil sighed. "Does it matter? The only people we care about know the truth."

Ashira frowned at that. "I suppose things will be very different in 50 years." She pulled away from him When glanced back a few moments later, she was already pacing the room. "Do you think Nero and the grandkids would live here? What about Dante? He'd probably go mad in this place. Kai might enjoy it, but Iris maybe not…"

"Shira."

"Of course, humans will always need some kind of protection. But would Dante want to stay out there that long? Surely someone would start asking questions."

"Shira."

"Would we stop going out by then? That's 100 human years… 170 years old by then…"

"Shira!"

She halted, blinking a few times before sheepishly turning to him. "Sorry," She mumbled as she crossed her arms in an attempt to hide the slight sway in her posture. The usual glow of her eyes was subdued, and her eyelids fluttered more than once.

"You should've gone to bed."

She shook her head. "Not without you."

He scowled. "You don't need me to sleep."

"I quite prefer it."

"That shouldn't…"

"And if I don't wait up," She continued. "Then you'll never sleep."

After a long moment of silence, Vergil sighed in defeat. If she were anyone else, he would have dismissed it- I don't need any rest- but she knew better than that for years. She also wouldn't argue with him over it. Between her tired state and his… present condition (he couldn't bring himself to call it exhaustion), any attempt to do so would only make them angry at each other. And if Vergil wanted to argue with anyone, he'd go track down Pythagoras.

So, rising from his seat (and ignoring the annoyed hiss of his muscles), he humored her. "If we went off of looks alone, the late twenties, early thirties would be the most believable." Her eyes drifted to his, and her arms eventually uncrossed once he was close enough to support her instead. His thoughts drifted to the free time they used to have together. Silly dances in the living room when she inevitably dragged him off the couch in the middle of the night but wasn't willing to go out demon hunting. Their more serious ones in Luca's studio that they'd only showed off to others by pure accident. The numerous times that he'd been content just to hold her close and pretend nothing else existed for a blissful few minutes.

She smiled as her head rested on his chest. "Too much to do and no time to do it."

He hummed in thought as he very, very gently began to sway. If she noticed, she didn't visibly react. But he did see the tension in her shoulders dissipate. "We may be able to pass off as 40, but I doubt we should go much higher."

She chuckled as her eyes drifted closed. "I wouldn't mind being younger. My memories of that time of my life are… vague at best."

"I'm not sure pretending to be younger will replace them."

"Who knows?" She said. "Maybe in a few hundred years it won't matter."

Vergil was tempted to say it didn't matter now, but kept that thought to himself. "So twenties, then."

"21?" She said.

"Too young. 29." He countered.

"Too old. 24."

"To even. 25."

"Too boring. 27."

Both paused, before breaking into quiet laughter. "We're ridiculous." She said as she opened her eyes long enough to look at him. "Why did I even ask this question? I can't…" She stifled a yawn as her head fell back to its spot and her eyes drifted closed. "Recall."

"Distraction, I'm assuming." He lifted her carefully into his arms.

"Then it was a success," She murmured as he lay her on the bed.

"Seems so," He said as he began unhooking the excess fabric of her dress from the garment holding it all up underneath. It was a rather intensive process, but he didn't mind, as it was preferable to whatever nonsense he'd have to go through next. Eventually, he peeled the last of the layers off and retrieved her nightgown from the drawers underneath. By then, she was seconds from sleep, and could barely lift herself to help him. It didn't matter, though, as he was more than capable of moving her himself.

"I like 27," She said. "Could say 33 if we need to be taken seriously."

Vergil chuckled as he pulled the last of the blankets to her shoulders. "Sleep, Shira."

Her hand clumsily grabbed his wrist. "You too," she mumbled. "Please."

He paused, watching her. A part of him wanted to return to the paperwork, as Pythagoras was unlikely to leave him alone if it was left undone for another day. He wasn't particularly tired, and nowhere as close to her current state.

Pulling his wrist away was easy, and her hand dropped to the bed. He heard her heartbeat and breathing slow as she finally drifted to sleep. With a final glance at the mound of paperwork, Vergil tossed his coat into the chair across the room and put out the candles with a flick of his wrist. Satisfied, he slipped under the covers and pulled her close. Ashira nuzzled against his chest as Shadow appeared, crawling up to rest along Ashira's back. "About time," Griffon said as he appeared on the headboard and stared down at Vergil. "Told Princess to sleep hours ago but nooooo. Gotta wait for the Boss to grace us with his presence. It's like the world's gonna explode if she sleeps without you."

"Quiet," Vergil said. Griffon huffed as he hopped to the end of the bed and nestled somewhere at Ashira's feet, mumbling something about 'getting no respect'. But, once Vergil was certain all three of his odd family were settled, he let his eyes wander to the ceiling. "27," He muttered. "I suppose that is acceptable."

A loud and distinctly low to the ground knock brought his mood crashing right back down. "You have a visitor," Pythagoras said. "Do not keep him waiting." Vergil bit back a swear - which was becoming more common nowadays - and sighed as he heard the old demon lumber away.

"Don't worry about it," Griffon muttered. "We'll keep her cozy. You go do the royal things so she doesn't have to." Shadow purred in something akin to agreement.

After a long pause, Vergil sighed. "Forgive me," He murmured against Ashira's forehead. She didn't stir, nor did her mind respond. He slipped from her grasp and watched for a moment as Griffon hopped up to nestle near her stomach instead. Vergil swallowed a curious lump in his throat as he reached for a clean coat. "Keep watch, V. I'll be back soon."

He left without waiting for a response.

Ashira's awakening was akin to pulling herself out of the most frigid depths of an artic sea. It always took way too long to feel the flames under her skin. It always took a few too many minutes to figure out if it was a blanket encasing her, or ice dragging her down. Sometimes, she'd get so lost in the darkness, and memories of the days when her blindness was a curse and not something she'd come to accept, that Vergil or the familiars would have to pull her out of it.

Today, thankfully, she managed to break free herself. And when her eyes snapped open, she reached for Vergil in an instinctual panic.

Griffon squawked in fury as her fingers slammed into his head. His wings went wild, but he fell flat on his back as his talons had sunk into the sheets overnight. "What was that for, Princess?" He snapped as she sheepishly helped untangle him. Shadow purred in amusement as her tail flicked against Ashira's ankle. "Here I am making sure you're nice and safe and warm and that's how you treat me?"

"Where's Vergil?"

If a bird could scowl, he would have. "The Boss got called away after you fell asleep," Shadow growled, and Griffon's feathers ruffled in annoyance. "The kitty says he didn't want to leave, but didn't have much of a choice." Griffon glared at the panther. "Happy now?" Shadow purred again and lay her head back down.

Ashira's eye drifted to the balcony. The door was closed today, as the chill outside was starting to become uncomfortable, even for them. But the curtains were drawn back revealing a perfect view of the city they'd helped build together. She'd often wander out there in the early hours, if only to think. Today, however, her muscles were heavy. Her mind was foggy, and she wished she could just curl up and go back to sleep. But she hated the idea of leaving him to the wolves for longer than she had to. "Pythy, I'm assuming?"

"Yep," Griffon said.

Ashira sighed. "Best if I get up then." She summoned a golden feather and held it out to Griffon. "For your usual rounds." Griffon's head shot up, but it was Shadow's jaw that clamped down. The feather didn't break, but the cat took off to the balcony, shifting into the ground long enough to slip outside.

"Hey!" Griffon shouted. "Get back here!" While his escape was much more awkward, as he was left to pry open the door with his talons, he made it out quick enough that Ashira was actually impressed. "V if you wouldn't…"

A knock at the door stopped her mid-thought. It opened a second later, only for Vergil to practically slam it shut as he stormed inside. "Verg…" She squeaked in surprise as he teleported to her side, letting his coat hit the floor.

"For a Prime Chancellor," Vergil muttered as his hands fell on either side of her. "Pythy can't get anything done."

Ashira snorted. "That bad?"

Vergil huffed in annoyance before swooping down to kiss her. That too, caught her off guard, and she narrowly avoided smacking into the headboard. But she couldn't hold back her smile, especially when he wrapped his hand on her waist and pulled them both to the side. "Good morning to you too," She said as he pulled away.

"Absolutely not," He replied as he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder and pulled her close. "It's currently 4am. By human standards and our own schedule, I have another five hours before I give anyone else my time."

Ashira blinked as she tried to look at him, but gave up when he didn't move to let her. "We haven't followed that schedule in years."

His hum rumbled in her bones. "Good time to start again."

Ashira chuckled as she reached up to brush through his hair. "Well lucky for you," She whispered with a gentle and teasing nibble on his ear. He nipped at her neck in retaliation, but it wasn't particularly menacing. "I need a little more sleep myself."

"Good." He leaned away for half a second to shed his shirt then placed the blankets back around them both. This time, his return was more gentle; forehead to forehead, a hand on her hip, and another sliding beneath her. Even so, his heartbeat was erratic, and his breathing too rapid. Ashira brushed her fingers along the nape of his neck before brushing gently through his hair. He took a long, somewhat shaky breath as he rolled his muscles back and let himself sink into the mattress. A quiet 'thank you' echoed between them, and she curled up against him as she felt him drift away.

A loud knock drew her attention. "You have…"

Golden fire consumed the door. It wouldn't destroy it, but she was satisfied but the series of ancient, demonic swears from the other side. "Hilarious, firebird," Pythagoras grunted. "Truly."

"See you in the morning, Pythy."

He grunted, but didn't argue for once. And, after she heard him waddle away, Vergil's soft chuckle echoed in her head. "I suppose I should leave him to you more often, your highness."

"Oh quiet," She said. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Not without you."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at the warmth that bloomed in her chest. "Using your own words against me? That's not very creative of you."

She felt an impatient tug on her soul. "Sleep," He growled. "Before I walk out of this room."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Is that a challenge?"

She kissed him. "I love you."

He grumbled something incoherent, and she let him pull her back into a blissful, momentary sleep.