Disclaimer: Joss, WB, UPN et al. own Buffy. Capcom owns Devil May Cry, and DMC 2. I don't.
Title: Better the Devil You Know…
Author: Paradigm Shifter
Feedback: I guess I'm reduced to begging again, hmm? Please?
Rating: This chapter's nothing worse than PG, the rest, however, may get gory. R.
Notes: I finished DMC2 Dante disc in 2h31m, and was astounded by how I enjoyed such a short game. It was really good. I'm currently on Lucia's level 12, after 2h14m. I do not use cheats. That is no fun. And the despair embodied was a bugger of a boss. I haven't had that hard a time with a final boss for YEARS…
Crossover: Devil May Cry / Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Continuity: DMC1, not 2 (except for Blood Goats). Xander's road trip. That's pretty much it. Enjoy.
*
Xander backed into a corner of the museum as six of the ugliest things he had ever seen came lurching over the floor toward him. He whispered a prayer to anything that would listen to get him out of the corner he had worked himself into, and cried out as one took a swipe at him.
"How'd you guess that as soon as I leave Sunnydale behind, something else comes to make me wish I'd never left?" Xander spoke of his incident in Oxnard, a small town…
Town?! His mind screamed at him. Town?! That wasn't a town! It doesn't even classify as a hamlet it's so damn small!
… just outside of Sunnydale. His car had literally fallen apart, with a deciding final thump as the engine block chose to rust free of its bolts. He had spent the next month working as a barman and odd-job man at 'The Fabulous Ladies Nightclub' until fate decided that Xander Harris had not been it's scapegoat enough, and dumped him with having to fill in for one of the male strippers who phoned in sick. At least it had been a morale boost to his fragile manhood with all the money he had had shoved into whatever the hell that flimsy piece of material they supposedly called a g-string he had got…
Focus! His mind again reminded him, as one of the birds… things… goats? Took another swing at him. Shut the hell up and FOCUS!
"OK, OK…" muttered Xander.
He looked up as the stained glass ceiling of the central roof of the museum suddenly shattered. The beasts that had been tormenting him took to their wings as the roof came showering down, and all zoomed toward the large hole.
The next thing Xander knew, a white haired man in a long dark red coat came through the window head first, with no safety harness. He seemed in no rush to meet the floor however; as he calmly fired shots out of two pistols, one black, one white, taking whatever the hell those things were down with one or two shots apiece.
The monsters screamed as they fell from the air, and began to dissolve, slowly at first, but gaining in speed until there was no sign of them left.
Xander looked to where the madman should now be pancake on the floor to see that he had not yet landed, and was still falling head first, albeit at a speed that indicated he had a levitation spell or something.
As he got to within five feet of the floor, he suddenly twisted his body in mid air and the spell was broken. He handed on both feet, and bent at the knees, until his right touched the floor. He was resting his head on his left knee and his pistol barrels on the floor either side of his feet.
Xander stepped forward, to thank him, and make sure he was alright. "Uh… are you OK?" he asked tentatively.
The white haired mans head shot up, and both of his pistols were instantly pointed at Xander. "Who are you?" he asked with no pleasantries.
Xander back-pedalled rapidly, but the man followed keeping a set distance between them. "Er… Xander Harris, most recently of Oxnard, in sunny California. And you don't want to know what happened there. His mouth went into overdrive, rambling any and all things he could think of to stop from being shot.
Quirking an eyebrow, the man turned away, holstering his twin pistols as he did. "Why are you here, now?"
"I was just passing through, though this place might be interesting for a while… road trip, you know…"
"You come to a Museum of Ancient Mythology and Demonology for fun? Are you nuts?"
Xander pulled a face. "I had a… friend… who was very into this stuff, kind of got me interested."
"No. You would be interested anyway, I think." The man turned back. "I'm Dante."
Xander nodded, and extended his hand. "You already know mine; Xander."
Dante looked at Xander's hand, and shook his head. "I don't do the handshake thing."
Xander pulled his hand back uncertainly. "Oh… right."
Dante walked over to a display case. It happened to be the one that Xander was looking at just as the demons… monsters… had attacked him. "I wonder what they want this for?" he said to himself quietly.
Xander stood next to him and looked down at the case. It contained a very fine sword, at least as long as he was tall. You would have to be a giant of a man just to lift it, never mind use it effectively. "What is it?" asked Xander with awe.
Dante looked at him. "I gave this sword to the museum… it has too many bad memories…"
"Great, but that doesn't answer my question."
Dante narrowed his eyes, and for a second, Xander wondered if he had overstepped the mark. Then Dante smiled slowly. "It's my sword… or my old one anyway. It also belonged to my father. I should have known not to leave it visible to the world…"
"So…" Xander began, but stopped as Dante brought his fist down on the case, and the tempered glass shattered like it was fine crystal dropped on the floor. Dante gripped the blade, and lifted it out. Xander gripped his wrist, examining his hand, frightened that he had damaged it badly.
"Are you crazy?" he asked, before looking down at Dante's hand. It was closing up, blood flowing back into the wound, flesh knitting and skin finally closing like it had never been broken. "Whoa!" Xander backed off, "what are you?"
Dante looked unconcerned. "Nothing of importance."
Xander pressed the point. "Nothing I know heals that fast except…" he paled "…a vampire." He looked suspicious. "You not a vamp, are you? 'Cause if you are, I know the Slayer!"
Dante looked amused, and shook his head. "I'm not a vampire." He looked at the sword, and swung it over his shoulder, into a scabbard on his back. "I'm something much, much more powerful… the difference is, I hunt what no one else can… I hunt my own kind…"
"So you're a demon? And a demon hunter?" Xander shook his head, "That has to suck."
Dante fixed him with a dirty look. "Please. Half demon. My mother was mortal, just like…" he trailed off.
"Just like what?" asked Xander, curiosity peaked.
"I was going to say, just like you father… well, your biological one, at any rate…"
"Hey!" exclaimed Xander, "How'd you know that!?"
Dante turned away. "Doesn't matter."
Suddenly spinning round, Dante took out his white pistol and aimed it at Xander.
"Hey! What'd I do?" he shouted, holding up his hands, and back-pedalling.
Dante looked to the side and fired. The bullet passed by Xander's ear and buried itself into the wall, after boring through another demon that was sneaking up on Xander, intent on a quick meal.
Xander turned round, and saw the corpse. "Uh… thanks?" he said weakly.
Dante spun again, and whipped out his second pistol. With arms pointing sideways in opposite directions, Dante ran forward, firing like a madman as monsters came out of the walls. They carried large scythes, and cackled maniacally.
Xander stood frozen, until one zoned in on him, at which point he started running, with a scythe swinging back and forward behind him, inches from his heels. It might have been comic if it wasn't so terrifying.
Dante turned at the shriek of terror. "Run, Xander! And don't look back!" Xander took his advice, and Dante tracked the demon floating after Xander with both pistols, bringing it down with three well-placed shots. He continued to do this until all the strange floaty things were just a memory. Xander panted to a halt when he realise that Dante had stopped firing.
"Thanks, man. What were they? All of those things for that matter?"
Dante shook his head. "The first things were Blood Goats… like to eat human flesh, they think it tastes nice. The second things were Sin Scythes… Ghosts with a real taste for cutting things up… strange… they shouldn't be together…"
Xander just looked confused, "Well, regardless, I think we'd better get out of here, yeah?"
Dante tapped his pistols against his thighs. "I suppose. Got anywhere to go?"
Xander pulled a face. "Not really… I… uh, used up my welcome at a friends…"
Dante sighed. "That's always the way, isn't it? Come on, you can come back to my detective agency…"
"You're a detective?" asked Xander. "I find that very hard to believe…"
Dante turned to look at him, but continued walking. "It's better than announcing
to the world that you're a demon hunter. You'd be locked up in a matter
of minutes, in a straight jacket. And only… special… people come to me
for help. Those who know what the score is…"
Xander nodded. "Right. Of course. How else could you get away with it?"
Dante smirked, and Xander got the distinct impression that two little horns would grow out of his head, and a tail suddenly appear. "I have my ways…"
*
Xander stepped into Dante's 'Devil Never Cry' agency, and Dante followed him in, closing the door and hanging up his coat in a hook by the door. With the coat off, Xander could see the twin thigh holsters of his pistols.
Dante followed his gaze down. "I expect you are either looking at my guns, or your checking out my crotch. If it's the second, please don't… I'm not that sort of half-demon." He struggled to keep a straight face, and only the glint in his eyes showed his humour.
Xander pulled a face. "I can't believe you said that… I was looking at your guns… why is one black and one white?"
Dante pulled both. He held the black pistol up, and spoke, "this is Ebony," he held up the second, and both he and Xander spoke simultaneously, "and Ivory…"
Dante frowned. "How did you know that?"
Xander shrugged. "Educated guess."
"Oh." Dante turned at the sound of the door opening. "Ah… yes…" he waved at the door, and the body just walking through. "Hi, Trish."
Trish was a beautiful lithe blonde woman, who seemed to have a dress sense similar to the strippers at the 'Fabulous Ladies Night Club'. In other words, leather. And not a lot of it. Her hair went down below her waist. She turned to smirk at Dante, but her expression turned to one of shock, and then horror as she looked at Xander. She recovered admirably, but too slowly, and hitched a thumb at Xander as she spoke to Dante.
"You know who, and what… he is, right?" Her voice was pitched low, and Xander saw her lips move, but heard no words. This message was meant for Dante only.
Dante nodded, and smiled. "Good to see you, Trish. What brings you to my humble abode?"
Trish looked suspicious, but shrugged it off. If Dante didn't believe him a threat, then who was she to argue? The son of Sparda at the very least should be able to identify a potential enemy. "You know me, Dante… just came by to annoy you."
Dante tilted his head to the side. "I take it this time, however, that you wont ride into my home on a motorbike, then proceed to throw it at me?"
Trish snorted. "Oh, please, once was enough! I don't have enough money to keep writing off bikes every time I visit!"
Xander looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh… should I leave?"
Dante pulled a face, and apologised. "I'm sorry, Xander. This is Trish," he indicated the blonde, "and Trish, this is Xander…"
Trish smiled, but didn't move. "Hello."
"Hi." Said Xander nervously. Usually, only Buffy affected him this much.
"Right," shouted Dante, spinning to face his desk, "now we've got the introductions out of the way, who wants to help me clean the ol' place?"
*
"Damn bloody women…" mumbled Xander as he ran a rag over the desk, "always manage to get out of the work…" he picked up a book, and walked over to the shelves to put it in a space. As soon as he had, the book next to it seemed to fly out for no apparent reason. It landed on the floor by his feet, and lay open about halfway through.
"Now the books are out to get me too…" Xander cursed silently and picked up the book. He was about to slam it shut, when he noticed the page it was on.
'Chapter XVI: Histories and Myths of the Devil-Knights'"What's this?" asked Xander, and sat at Dante's desk, beginning to read…
*
The Devil-Knights were the elite of the army of Hell.
They existed only to serve the Demon-Princes and Lords that ruled the various levels of Hell, and they did this well.
They numbered seven, one for each level of Hell: Sparda; the guardian of the First, Kerin; the destroyer of Worlds, Dewer; the assassin of Minds, Zerde; lord of Murder, Ghian; bringer of Darkness, Xepto; the only 'female' Devil-Knight, and one further, unnamed in any texts. It is said that to so much as think the name brings the Knight into the mind of the scholar, bringing ruin to the world, as the Knights Avatar is born.
Arguably, the greatest Devil-Knight was Sparda, called the Traitor. He turned on his race to protect those known as humans, and to protect their world that was about to be destroyed by the influence of a nearby Hell dimension.
Mundus, the Lord of the First Hell brought a price upon Sparda's head at his betrayal. His very soul would be flayed from his unnatural body and tormented in the deepest pits. None ever succeeded in capturing or killing him, until he finally died defending his adopted world.
However, Sparda's story does not end there, for he begat a son on a mortal woman, one with whom he had fallen is 'love'. His son was named Dante, and wields his father's powers to defend once more the world. Due to her child's unnatural parentage, Dante's mother died in childbirth; her demon spawn son killing her even as he first lived.
Dante lives to this day…*
Xander closed the book, and put it back on the shelf even as he heard Dante and Trish come back in through the front door of 'Devil Never Cry'.
Dante walked through the doorway of his study, and raised an eyebrow. "You did a good job, Xander. Want a full time job as caretaker?"
Xander looked wide-eyed in horror. "No thank you! It's not fair that I got left to do all this, while you and Trish went out."
Dante shrugged. "Well, it was that, or me do it myself, and that, I am afraid, is something I do all to often. So, since you were new, I got you to do it." He grinned. "I got some food, if you want…"
Xander's head snapped up. "Food? All is forgiven, bringer of food!"
The two walked out to where Trish was pouring tubs of what looked like noodles into bowls. Several other plates and bowls sat around, already full of several different items.
Dante looked vaguely guilty. "I don't really know what you like, so I got a bit of everything…"
Xander eyed the feast with an enthusiastic eye. "A bit?! It looks like you bought half of every takeout you stopped at!"
Dante shrugged. "Yeah, well… it's not like I can't afford it…"
Xander stared at the feast. Pizza, Chinese, Indian, Italian, Thai, and the good old favourites, McDonalds and KFC.
"Come on, Xander," said Dante as he slapped him on the back, "it wont get eaten if you don't stop drooling and help…"
They sat down, and all three stuck in. Dante went for a bit of everything, while Xander started methodically on the nearest thing to him, before moving on to the next. Trish merely picked at some Pizza, while watching with an expression close to shock as Xander demolished everything in his path…
*
"Ah…" Xander leaned back into his chair and patted his stomach. "I needed that…"
"Yes…" said Dante dryly as he surveyed the empty plates, and emptier bowls and boxes. "I can see that you did…"
Xander looked vaguely guilty. "I'm sorry, Dante, it's just… it's been nearly a month since I had anything more than a very light breakfast as the only meal in the day. And I got into the habit of eating as much as I could when I could very young…" Xander's expression darkened, and for a moment, Dante though he was going to see exactly what he didn't want to.
Trish looked at Xander with a pitying expression. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.
"No." Xander said flatly. "And you can take that look off your face. I don't want anyone's pity."
"Sorry…" Trish sounded taken aback.
Dante stood. "Well, now you two have successfully killed the atmosphere in here, I suggest we retire to the Trophy Room…"
Trish nodded, and Xander merely stood and followed the two as they walked into a room he had never been in before…
*
Two minutes later saw Xander exit in the opposite direction that he had entered the door to the 'Trophy Room'. He had a hand over his mouth, and was trying desperately not to be sick.
The 'Trophy Room' as Dante had called it was lined with the skulls of some of the demons he had killed, and in some cases, the bones themselves had enough of their demonic powers left to talk, or moan, or cackle… whatever.
It freaked him out to see a skull watching him move round the room, offering comment on the other skulls on the wall, and insults directed at Dante, Trish and Xander himself.
Dante stepped out, and laid a hand on Xander's back as he tried valiantly to control his stomach. "It always gets people that way at first, Xander. Trust me, you'll get used to it…"
"I wouldn't have been that freaked if you'd have given me a bit of warning." Said Xander accusingly.
Dante grinned. "Well, that was part of the challenge, you see, Xander. I was, and still am, I suppose, going to offer you a job…"
"A job?" asked Xander with no slight amount of suspicion.
"Yes. A job. I want you to help me… at least when I ask you to."
Xander shook his head. "Uhuh… I have a life… and I want to live it!"
Dante sighed. "You have a life, Xander, but now those demons have seen you with me, you wont have one much longer unless I teach you. You'll be a sitting duck out by yourself."
"I can run. I'm good at running."
"I expect you are…" Something in the boys stance told Dante that, indeed, he was very good at running, "you certainly seemed to be in the Museum. But those things never tire, Xander. And you will. Sooner or later, one of them will get you." Dante pulled a face. "Urg… I didn't want to do it like this…" He held out a hand to Xander. "It comes down to this, Xander Harris: will you help me; because it is the right thing to do?"
Xander closed his eyes and prayed. He finally sighed, and opened his eyes once more.
"Yes."
With that one word, Xander's life was to be changed forever…
*
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